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#maybe I’ll take another shovel break?
mukumukunomi · 5 months
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Not Alone. Never Alone. (part 1)
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Luffy x Fem!Reader
cw: fluff, no smut, first love, implied semi-relationship, no manga spoilers, takes place just after East Blue's arc in live action, idiots in love
wc: 1,663
a/n: This is part one of a a short and sweet two parter. I'll be uploading it soon hopefully! Still thinking of more cute one-shots I can write as well. Part two will be linked below
Part Two (Luffy)
❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦
You tell him that getting involved would result in disaster.
But Luffy is a magnet for disaster. He’s chaos incarnate. Brutally honest to a flaw with a kindness that shatters ideals and shakes the foundation of the world. It’s as rare as it is maddening.
“I'm serious. It’s better if I go alone tonight instead of tomorrow.”
The words bite through the silence. It actually forces Luffy away from shoveling the food in his mouth as he eyes you up and down. 
“Where are we going?”
You sigh. He’s not listening to you. Not really. The words are going in but not processing. Luffy always does it when he hears something he doesn’t like. He simply states what he wants instead like the universe will bend itself to his will. 
Maybe it does.
“Not ‘we’. I am going to go to the island. Me. Not you.”
Luffy frowns. You know he doesn’t doubt your strength nor your character. But it’s the subtle narrowing of his eyes and the way he slowly chews his food that gives his emotions away. He’s annoyed, you think.
“I don’t want ya’ to go alone.”
You sigh dramatically. He’s like a petulant child. His reasoning confounds you. “I’ll be careful.”
He breaks gaze with you to take another huge bite of meat. It’s impressive how he manages to scarf it down in the span of two minutes before he’s once again berating you. “But I can be stealthy!”
You wipe a crumb from his cheek. His face is twisted, eyes avoiding you. He whistles a broken tune mainly because he’s terrible at whistling. Sweat drips down his face. All the tells convincing you that your captain would be terrible poker player. “Leave the lying to Usopp. It’s not your forte. And leave the stealthiness to me. It’s my forte.”
His concern isn’t unwarranted. You're sneaking into the lair of people who once held you as a short-time captive long ago. They’re not as fearsome as some of the pirates you and the crew have encountered, but nevertheless have connections to people you’d rather avoid.
You’re wanted in more waters than the prospective King of the Pirates beside you. The ties of your family and the status they have in this world make it so you’re looking over your shoulder at all times. You’ve never known freedom until the strange being named Monkey D. Luffy stumbled into your life. 
But you know the layout of this particular place, and it has something the crew requires. Without it they can’t continue their journey forward. And you’d be damned if you were the one holding them back. 
“It’ll be quick. In and out. They’ll never even know! I spent a lot of time there as a prisoner so-.”
Luffy slams the meat bone onto the plate in front of him. He calls Sanji for more. Sanji’s disgruntled reply echoes from the kitchen to your place on the deck. You almost think the thing is settled until Luffy’s blazing eyes meet yours again.
The words are harsh. “I’m going.”
“Luffy, we don’t need to waste time on something I can handle myse-”
“That’s an order from the captain.”
His voice holds no cheerfulness. He’s never used that tone with you before. It’s the tone of finality. It means that Luffy has heard you out and he’s overruling you. You’ve seen him use it on people.  You’ve never had it used on you before. The abruptness of it makes you stand.
Hurt flares in your chest. Did he not trust you? Did he actually think you were weak? The logical part of your brain screams ‘no!’ but it’s buried in the torrent of emotions. Here was a chance to prove just how useful you could be. Prove you belonged on this crew. Why did he have to be so difficult? 
Luffy’s attention diverts again. He settles back into his mantra of consuming whatever is in front of him as Sanji places another plate of meat down. You make eye contact with the cook, who simply shrugs at the mood the captain is in. You huff in anger and decide being anywhere else is better than talking to the brick wall with a straw hat.
Habit finds you in the main meeting area of the Going Merry. Besides the currently absent presence of Sanji in the small kitchen, the crew’s swordsman is dozing lazily in the corner of the common space. You can’t tell if he’s supposed to be sharpening his sword or is sneaking the booze supply. It surprises you to see him in cohabitation with Sanji in the same room at all.
You plop next to Zoro. You draw your knees up to your chest and rest your elbows on your knees. You let out a long, dragged out keening noise of frustration.
“He shut you down, huh?”
Without looking, you smack his shoulder. Zoro simply scoffs as he tries to get more comfortable against the wall. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You eye his form. “You said he’d be stubborn. Nami suggested I wait until he was eating to try to convince him.”
Zoro shifts the Wado Ichimonji on his hip. “Yeah, Nami’s right about that. He’s pretty susceptible when food’s on offer. You can convince him to do almost anything.”
The groan that is your reply is muffled by your arms. "Apparently not everything."
He taps the hilt of the blade on your head. “Problem wasn’t the timing. It was the subject.”
Your brows scrunch together. “The subject?”
“You.”
“You’re saying that I’m the problem.”
Zoro smirks. “Yup.”
You shove his shoulder at his shit-eating grin. Luffy and you care for each other. More than friendship. Not quite romantic. You're not sure if he even knows how to be. So you both settle for a comfortable in-between where labels are irrelevant. You’re free to explore this feeling between you two and see where it leads. Despite his naivete, there’s a quiet confidence in Luffy’s chaste kisses. In lingering touches and odd looks that make your heart rate elevate. There are moments where you wonder if he truly knows the effect he has on you.
You’re in love with him. So in love with him. You don’t know how deep his love for you runs. It terrifies you.
Your indignant snort reverberates the space. “I don’t understand.”
The moss-head rolls his eyes at you and takes a swig of a bottle. “If you don’t understand then you may be an even bigger idiot than he is.”
You decide that the room is more stuffy as you feel hot embarrassment at his remark. “At least I’m an idiot that can find my way around.”
The swordsman makes an interesting coughing noise as you get up and exit back onto the deck. 
Going Merry is docked at the north end of the inlet. It shrouds your little caravel just enough that you can still see the top of the fortress that lies beyond the hill to the south. You can see that the clouds are beginning to move eastward as a warm wind blows from the storm front to the west. Luffy is no longer where he was, but you can hear the echoes of his voice from below. Sanji passes you to return to the kitchen to clean up and lock the fridge, which will hopefully keep a certain pest (captain) away. You begin descending the stairs to the main deck as Sanji and Zoro’s voices start to hurl insults at each other from behind. 
The only one who remains on deck is Nami, who’s staring at a map of the island on the flat end of an upright barrel. An oil lamp burns beside her to give light. You rest your chin on her shoulder and hum at the layout. “That’s wrong.”
You point to the secret entrance Nami’s drawn. “It’s just to the west of the hill at the base. And that forest stretches all the way to the coastline too.”
Nami frowns and marks the correction with a pen. “Damn, I’ll have to redraw again at some point.”
“You don’t have to do that.” You say, voice turning bitter. “It’s not worth that kind of effort.”
You hope to never see this island again after this.
Nami simply raises an eyebrow. “You sound upset. What did Luffy say?”
You tend to forget how perceptive the navigator is. “He ordered me to let him come. Ordered! Like a captain! Can you believe that?”
“Ah. Well he is the captain.” Nami clicks her tongue, “Serious tone and all too?”
You nod. “Any chance of still changing his mind?”
The tangerine colored strands of her hair flow gently in the breeze as Nami laughs. “Absolutely not. But maybe it’s for the best. We both know how stubborn he can be.”
She snuffs the oil lamp out and folds the map to put in her pocket. Without the warm light, the ship is suddenly shrouded in an eerie darkness. The only light left is from the pale glow of the moon. Nami shifts her attention back to you. “Heading to bed. You?”
Usopp’s snores have already begun to resound across the ship. There are heavy footsteps below you from the men’s quarters. There’s a brief moment of loud talking and heavy things being thrown before peace once again returns to the Going Merry. 
You gaze up at the stars. “In a minute. I forgot something in the kitchen.”
The navigator yawns as she walks away. You watch her disappear below. There’s a heavy feeling in your gut as you move towards the ship’s railing. You peer over it, gazing at the strip of land alongside your ship.
Luffy could be stubborn. But so could you.
The warm air turns cold as you inhale shakily. You do a double take of the surroundings again to make sure you’re alone.
“Sorry, Luffy.”
You throw the rope ladder down and descend as quietly as possible.
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munson-blurbs · 3 months
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
Day 12 of TUI-Mas
Warnings: pregnancy, allusion to smut, contractions, water breaking, labor and delivery, and Eddie wasn't there, epidural, medical emergency, lots of fluff
WC: 4.3k
A/N: I could not have written this piece without @the-unforgivenn 💚 everything accurate in this fic is because of her, and everything inaccurate is because of me. I love you, Annie. Thank you for asking my random birth-related questions at all hours.
Divider credit to @saradika
November 4, 1999
At nine months pregnant, everything hurts.
Perhaps that’s why when you wake up for work with an extra pinch in your back, you cast off any worries. Or maybe it’s because you still have over a week until you’re due, and first babies tend to take their time arriving, so there’s no possible way that today is the day.
You shrug on a sweater and your most comfortable pair of maternity jeans, your body heavy with pregnancy and fatigue. Your movements are sluggish, even more so than usual, and Eddie notices as he stands out the counter, shoveling a spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios into his mouth.
“You okay, Sweetheart?” he asks, tongue darting out to swipe a drip of milk from his lower lip.
Nodding, you massage just above your tailbone in a meager attempt to ease the pain. “Mhm,” you lie, grabbing two granola bars from the pantry. You unwrap one and take a big bite, letting the chocolate chips melt in your mouth. “Just ready to have this baby.” Another lie, or possibly a half truth; while you’re eager to have your body to yourself again, the prospect of labor and delivery terrifies you.
Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead, his palms gently rubbing your bump. “Eleven more days and then we’ll be a family of four.”
“Baby Brother is taking forever to get here,” Harris laments from his seat at the table, spearing a banana slice with his fork. He glances at your stomach with impatient eyes. “Can’t you do something to hurry him up?”
You cough as your husband’s cheeks flush pink; he rakes a ringed hand through his curls. No doubt he’s remembering last night when he’d innocently lifted your belly to relieve some of the pressure, only to find himself hard as a rock as his fingers lightly dug into your skin. I’ll go slow so I don’t send you into early labor, he’d remarked with a teasing wink. 
“Gotta be patient,” Eddie says now, seemingly having recovered from the brief flashback. He slurps the remaining milk from the bowl and stifles a belch, reaching for his jacket and keys. “Have a great day at work,” he kisses you, smiling against your lips, “and school.” He ruffles Harris’s hair, and just like that, he’s out the door. 
Harris finishes his breakfast, placing his empty plate in the sink and scampering to the door to put on his sneakers. You watch enviously as he ties them with ease; you’ve been relegated to slip-on shoes until your feet are no longer swollen. 
“Come on, Mommy,” he says, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. “I don’t wanna miss the bus.”
You silently pray that the short walk to the bus stop will ease your muscle tension, taking careful steps as you trail behind the far-too-energetic-for-8 AM little boy. 
Eleven more days. Only eleven more days, you tell yourself. The reminder has tears prickling along your lash line in a double-edged sword. You don’t think you can handle eleven more days of this discomfort, but will you truly be ready to have a newborn baby in less than two weeks? Once you give birth, you can no longer shield your baby from the world’s dangers and cruelties. Will your love be enough? Will you be enough? And how can you possibly figure it all out in just eleven days?
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Your mantra of eleven more days turns out to be just six hours. Since Will became a teacher two years ago, the two of you have made it a habit to spend time together after the students’ dismissal. You’re preparing art materials for tomorrow’s class when you feel it—a trickle of liquid sliding down your leg. 
Your eyes widen, heat crawling up your neck and into your face. I peed myself at work. It had happened once last month, but it was preceded by a sneeze, and you were already in the parking lot about to go home. When you’d told Eddie that evening, the two of you laughed so hard that you’d wet yourself again. 
But this feels…different. 
“Oh, no.” There’s another small stream, but it isn’t accompanied by any relief on your bladder. Your worried murmur gets Will’s attention, and he looks at you with concern. “I think my water broke, but I don’t know…it might just be pee…” Your voice trails off before you can speak in circles. 
Will leaps to his feet. “Okay, what do you need me to do?” The pair of scissors he’s been using to cut out paper stars clatter to the table as he rushes to your side. 
“Call Eddie,” you mumble, gripping your bump as a cramp—most likely a contraction, you realize—squeezes at your pelvis. “Tell him to—shit—to get my bag from the apartment and bring it to the hospital.” You bite your lip to stifle a groan. “I’ll call Wayne and ask him to get Harris from the bus.”  
He nods, dialing from the classroom phone as you rattle off the record store’s number. You pull your own Nokia cell phone—a purchase Eddie had insisted upon after you got pregnant, wanting to make sure you and Baby Munson stayed safe. 
“So, um,” Will hesitates after you’ve hung up with Wayne, ending the conversation with a promise to let him know as soon as the baby is born, “Eddie was in the middle of a guitar lesson, so I left a message with one of his employees—”
Please don’t say Ev, you wordlessly plead. Anyone but the stoner who can barely remember to show up to work on time. 
“Ev, I think?”
Shit. 
Will hooks his arm with yours, providing you with the stability to stand up. “Let’s get you to the hospital, all right? Maybe it’s a false alarm or something.”
You nod, but deep down, you know that this baby is on his way. Call it mother’s intuition, you muse wryly. 
After a quick stop in Principal Sinclair’s office to explain the situation, Will helps you into his Chevy Impala, grimacing along with you when another contraction hits. “Should we be timing those?”
You grit your teeth. “Shit, y-yeah. I completely forgot.” All those birthing books you’d read cover to cover to prepare for this moment, and you hadn’t even remembered to time your own damn contractions. “We need to track how long they last and the amount of time between them.”
Will remains unfazed. “We’ll just start now,” he says simply, flicking his wrist to check his watch. “It’s 2:32. Let me know when you get another one.” He turns the key in the ignition, taking your hand before putting the gear shift into drive. “It’ll be okay. Eddie’s gonna get the message, and he’ll be here soon.”
It’s as though he can read your mind, and you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. He’s right; if you are in labor, it’s still early enough that Eddie won’t miss the birth. 
You hope. 
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Your contractions are one minute long and twelve minutes apart by the time you reach Hawkins General Hospital, growing slightly stronger with each wave. Will relays the information to the receptionist, his voice wavering with nerves and excitement despite his best efforts to remain calm. 
Before you know it, you’re being wheeled into a room, a laminated bracelet with your personal details dangling from your wrist. The clock on the wall indicates that it’s just past 3 PM, which means that Eddie should be here in a few minutes. 
As if on cue, the cell phone in your purse chirps its familiar ringtone. Harris had insisted that you change it from the standard option, choosing one that sounds like birds chirping. It normally reminds you of springtime mornings; right now, you’re ready to throw it through the window. 
Will passes it to you, and you punch the answer button with an impatient, “hello?”
“Hey, Sweetheart,” Eddie’s carefree demeanor wafts through the speaker, “just wanted to check in and see if you’re feeling any better. Did you want me to pick up something from the store on my way—?”
Dammit, Ev. “Eddie, my water broke at work. Will called earlier and left a message,” you manage, maneuvering around the heart rate monitor to brace for another contraction. “I’m—ughhh, shit—I’m at the hospital.”
“What?!” You can hear his sudden shift to panic; the phone drops from his grasp and clatters on the counter before he retrieves it, uttering a slew of swear words. “Okay, I’ll be right there. Your bag’s at home, right? Oh, and Harris! Shit, let me—”
“Wayne’s on it,” you tell him, hopefully putting an end to his mile-a-minute thoughts. “I just need my bag and my husband.” 
There’s a relieved sigh on the other end of the line. “I can provide both.” His humor peeks through his fear in subtle reassurance. “Be there ay-sap. I love you so fucking much.” 
“Love you, too.” A soft click tells you that he’s on his way, probably simultaneously scrambling for his keys and shouting at his employee. 
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Nearly an hour later, there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will blots the perspiration on your forehead with a cloth; out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s watching the clock as well. “He’ll be here,” he says as though reading your mind. Or maybe he’s scared that he’ll have to stand in for Eddie throughout the entire process. “In the meantime, I’ll flag down a nurse so we can get you that epidural.” His words are even, but his smile is uneasy, both of you well-aware that he is out of his element. Though he’ll deny it vehemently, you know you owe him. Big-time.
“Why don’t you grab yourself some food from the cafeteria?” You’d heard his stomach growling just before, and he can certainly use a break. 
Will nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Do you want anything?” he asks out of habit, cheeks tinged pink as you shake your dismal cup of ice chips. “Oh, right. Sorry.” He ducks out of the room as a nurse walks in. 
“Are we considering an epidural, Mrs. Munson?” she asks. Her bright smile is one you’ll be unable to return until after the pain medication takes effect. 
“Y-Yeah, please.” You shift uncomfortably while she examines you and announces that your cervix is four centimeters dilated. Part of you is relieved that labor is progressing at a pace where Eddie should arrive in time for the delivery; another part just wants this baby out of you, now. 
The nurse makes a note on your chart. “I’ll let the anesthesiologist know.” Another unreciprocated grin and she’s gone, off to poke and prod the next patient. 
Alone for a moment, you relish the quiet, save for the soft beeps of the machines you’re connected to. With great care, you caress the swell of your stomach where your son has developed from a microscopic speck to a full-term baby. 
“Your daddy will get here soon,” you murmur to your sensor-covered belly, “hopefully before you do.” You laugh for a second until another contraction squeezes you from the inside, shifting your expression from amused to pained. 
The anesthesiologist and Will arrive at the same time, the former pausing to let your impromptu birth partner enter first. He walks with more enthusiasm now that he’s eaten, though his meal threatens to reappear when he sees the doctor pull out the comically oversized needle. 
“Just lean forward,” she says to you, “you’ll feel some pressure, but once the medication kicks in, it’ll be worth it.” She offers you a kind smile before turning to Will and explaining, “you may need to help her.”
“Mhm. Sure.” Will mumbles, avoiding looking at the needle. You clasp your hand in his so you can sit up. The cool air raises goosebumps on the sliver of flesh no longer covered by the gown, but the chill is quickly replaced by a stinging sensation that has you gripping Will’s palm. You don’t realize the strength of your grasp until you hear him mutter, “ow,” but you don’t let go until the burning ceases. 
“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, watching him shake out his hand. “About all of this. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your afternoon.”
He shakes his head and guides you back against the pillow. “Maybe not, but I’m glad I can be here for you.” Now that the threat of broken fingers has passed, he truly means it. 
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5:46 PM. 
You’ve been in the hospital for nearly three hours, and there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will’s casually flipping through a copy of People magazine that’s so outdated, Nick Nolte was just crowned the Sexiest Man Alive. He’s visibly more relaxed now that the medication has eased your pain, chattering teeth a welcome replacement for your anguished moans.
Your concern that Eddie will miss the baby’s birth has hardened into pure fear that something has happened to him. What if he lost focus while driving and got into an accident? The weather was overcast when you’d arrived at Hawkins General; it could have started raining since then and created slippery roads, perfect for hydroplaning. The thought of him hurt while you’re unable to help him has your insides churning, and for the first time, you’re grateful for an empty stomach.
Maybe you should call Wayne and find out if he had heard from his nephew. But if he hadn’t, then both of you would be stuck worrying and answerless; even worse, if he had and didn’t want to relay bad news while you’re in such a vulnerable state–
“I’m here!” 
Relief surges through your veins, Eddie’s panting voice music to your ears. You roll from your side onto your back to see your husband standing by your bedside. Sweat drips down his temples and pools under his arms with the pungency of someone who’d just completed a marathon. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, a jacket haphazardly tossed over his shoulder and your bag clutched in his hand.
He swoops down and places his lips on yours in a series of frantic kisses, his free palm cupping your cheek as though ensuring that the moment is real. He only pulls back when you do, getting a glimpse of your face.
“Where were you?” Not an accusation, but a question threaded with genuine care. 
His nose nudges yours as he sneaks in another peck. “Did you know that Chief Hopper retired?” Your brows furrow in confusion at his non-answer to your question. “Well, he did, and the sheriff’s department decided to throw him a parade. Today. Closed off a bunch of the side streets and backed up traffic on the main ones.” He coughs out a terse laugh. “Glad I quit smoking, or my lungs would’ve given up before I hit a half-mile.”
You mull over his response for a moment before it finally clicks. “Wait…did you run here?”
He tugs at his shirt fabric in an attempt to create a breeze that will cool him down. “It was more like a walk-run combo, but…yeah.” He shrugs, no big deal. “Parked my car in a random lot and just…booked it.” His shoulder gently sag as the adrenaline from his adventure wears away. “I gotta sit.”
It’s then that he notices Will, rising from the chair and placing the gossip rag on the table beside him. “Byers, holy shit,” Eddie looks at him incredulously, “have you been here with her the whole time?”
“He has,” you answer for him, managing a grateful smile in your friend’s direction. “And I can’t thank him enough.” Will returns the gesture and pulls Eddie in for a hug, wishing you both luck before slipping out the door.
Eddie brings his full attention back to you, lacing his fingers with yours. His thumb brushes the side of your hand, bringing small but strong comfort with each gentle touch. “Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry–”
“Eds,” you interrupt before he can continue his apology, “you’re here now.”
“Yeah.” Soft, distracted, overthinking. You can practically see the gears in head spinning, His second child and the second time he’d nearly missed the birth. He clears his throat and shakes away the thought with a toss of his hair, swiping his tongue over his lower lip. “How are you feeling?” He takes in the sight of you, his wife, the most beautiful being his cynical eyes have ever seen. “You look pretty damn good for someone about to have a baby.”
You laugh. “That epidural is a miracle from above.” You’ll gladly take the chattering teeth and the itchiness over the sensation of your pelvis imploding. Eddie doesn’t share in your amusement, still focused on his own shortcomings. “Hey,” you say quietly, pulling him out of his mind with just one word. “Don’t think about the missed message or the traffic. We’re having our baby today.” You bring his hand to the apex of your stomach in the final few hours that it houses the life you two created together.
“I love you.” 
His eyes shine with emotion. He’s here, not only in this moment, but throughout the entire pregnancy. He didn’t bury himself in music or booze or other arbitrary distractions. He’d read What to Expect When You’re Expecting cover to cover, had gone to all of the doctor’s appointments, made sure to keep the kitchen stocked with your cravings and free of your aversions. He’d picked up the household chores (and delegated some to Harris) to ease your workload and wiped your tears when you’d cried while watching two squirrels play in a tree. 
You never asked him to do any of it; you never needed to. 
“I love you, too.”
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It all happened so quickly. 
One minute, Eddie’s watching the monitor spike with a contraction, utterly bewildered by the power of pain medication. 
“You really can’t feel that?”
“Just some pressure, but nothing like earlier. I told you; it’s a godsend.”
After hours of strategic breathing, a plethora of ice chips, and a steady outpouring of love between you two, you’re about to tell him that you feel the urge to push. 
And then a nurse rushes in. 
“Mr. and Mrs. Munson,” he begins, urgency evident even through his calm exterior, “your baby is experiencing late heart rate deceleration. We need to begin delivery immediately.” He glances at Eddie, then at you. “I’m going to check your dilation to see if we’ll try a vaginal delivery or prepare for a cesarean birth.”
 The blood drains from Eddie’s face as he processes the information, the lighthearted energy completely zapped from the room. “Is…is she…are they…”
The nurse finishes the examination, removing his rubber glove. “Ten centimeters,” he announces. “I’ll page the doctor.”
It’s a whirlwind, with almost no time for panic to set in. The doctor and the other nurses arrive immediately, and when Eddie takes your hand, you can feel him trembling. 
He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be strong for you. Your face says it all: you’re terrified, and you need him to be your rock.
“You’ve got this, Sweetheart,” he whispers fiercely, pushing past the lump in his throat. “You’re the strongest fucking person I know, and I’m so lucky that you’re having my baby.” He kisses your forehead; out of the corner of his eye, he sees the medical staff preparing for delivery. His heart skips a beat, and the realization hits that he’s about to be a father of two.
You’re exhausted, a salty mixture of sweat and tears decorating your face. Gritting your teeth, you push while Eddie coaches you, reminding you to breathe and allowing you to swear at him without even batting an eyelash. It’s mostly a blur, with all of your energy concentrated on getting this baby out, but you vaguely recall telling him that he’s not allowed to even think about touching you again.
“Almost there,” he cheers, flashing an awestruck smile so wide that his cheeks ache. “C’mon, you can do it! Oh, my god, you’re a goddamn superhero.” 
Three giant pushes later, you hear the telltale newborn wail as a nurse coos, “Happy birthday, little man! Here’s your mama!” She gently places your tiny baby on your chest, quickly wiping off the vernix covering his body. 
“He’s here!” you manage through simultaneous laughter and cries. You carefully hold him against you, kissing the wisps of curls on his scalp. “Hi, baby boy!” Turning to Eddie, you blink away the mist coating your eyes. “We have another son,” you choke out.
He just nods, relishing in the wonder of becoming a father again. His pointer finger grazes the baby’s little half-closed fist, only looking away when the nurse asks him if he’d like to cut the umbilical cord. “Y-Yeah. Please,” he awkwardly adds, doing exactly as he’s instructed. 
As the baby is lifted from your torso to be assessed and measured, Eddie kisses you with a passion you’ve never felt before, even from him. You can see that he’s crying, too, and he wipes his cheeks haphazardly.  
“I’m so proud of you,” he says, punctuating the statement with another kiss. “I couldn’t have asked for a better mother for my kids.” His nose rubs yours tenderly. 
You smile at him. “Do you want to call Wayne? I won’t be up for visitors until the morning,” you add, “but I just want to let him know that the baby’s here, happy and healthy.”
“In a bit,” he murmurs, watching the nurse carefully swaddle his newborn son in a hospital blanket. “I just wanna hold him first.”
Eddie takes your baby from the nurse, shifting to support his head. “Hey, buddy. I’m your dad.” His body slowly sways as he rocks back and forth. “You gave us quite the scare just now. I see you’re following in your big brother’s mischievous footsteps.” He swears his heart melts when the infant opens his mouth to yawn. “Yeah, you’ve had a busy day. Same here. But it was worth it, huh?”
He wears fatherhood so naturally, so perfectly. You wish you could capture this feeling in a jar and save it forever. For now, you settle for watching him fawn over his newest son, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Eddie murmuring, “and let me tell you: you have the best mommy a kid could ever ask for.”
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Morning arrives after a restless sleep. You know the nurses are just following protocol when they examine you every hour, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy about it. 
But the next knock on the door is one that you welcome willingly. Harris and Wayne stand there, waiting for permission to enter. You smile when you notice Harris shuffling his feet and shaking his hands in an attempt to expel some excess energy. 
“Come on in,” Eddie whispers, beaming, “there’s someone very special we’d like to introduce you to.”
Harris rushes to your bedside, peering at the bundle in your arms. “My baby brother!” he squeals, jumping up and down. 
Eddie puts a finger to his lips. “He’s sleeping, so we have to be quiet, okay?” He ruffles Harris’s hair as the boy nods. “Do you wanna hold him?”
“Yeah! I mean, yeah,” Harris lowers his voice, sitting down on the bed. You scoot over, careful not to move too quickly, and he melds into your side. He’s always been small to you, but compared to his baby brother, he seems so grown up. 
“Okay, hold out your arms like this,” Eddie instructs, demonstrating the correct position, “and you’re gonna make sure to keep his head nice and safe, because he can’t hold it up on his own yet.”
Harris sports a look of concentration as you and Eddie work in tandem to place the baby in his arms. “He’s got the teeniest nose I’ve ever seen.”
Wayne laughs at this, watching his older grandson snuggle his youngest. “Does this little fella have a name yet?”
“Oh, right.” Eddie chuckles. “Gentlemen, this is Hendrix William Munson. ‘Hendrix’ after one of the most talented guitarists to grace this planet, and ‘William’ after an amazing friend and substitute birth partner.”
“Hendrix,” Harris repeats incredulously, never taking his eyes off of his brother. “I’m Harris. I talked to you when you were in Mommy’s tummy, remember?” Hendrix lets out a long exhale, like he’s acknowledging the question. “I know you’re still too little right now, but when you get big, we’re gonna play together all the time. Except when I’m at school.” He looks over at you expectantly. “Can I bring him to school with me? Like for show and tell?”
“Maybe when he’s older,” you say, lacking the bandwidth to point out the logistics of his request. 
Harris wrinkles his nose, but his expression quickly softens. “Yeah, you’re right. He can’t even do any tricks yet.”
It’s quiet for a moment, everyone focused on the two Munson boys. Surprisingly, Wayne is the one who breaks the silence. 
“You two have one beautiful family,” he muses, an arthritic finger grazing Hendrix’s blanket. “Y’should be proud of yourselves.”
Eddie gives his uncle’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Couldn’t have done it without ya, Old Man.”
Wayne knows this, accepting the compliment with a bashful grin but saying nothing further. 
Peacefulness surrounds the five of you, soft conversation seamlessly weaving its way into the calm. You can’t kid yourself; most days will be pure chaos, balancing spit-up and school plays, field trips and feeding schedules. And once Hendrix starts walking—and running—you’ll need all cylinders firing. 
But today, right now, you soak in the serenity. Just you and your boys. Your family. 
--
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seph-ic · 1 year
Text
Underrated pjo dynamic? Will and Clarisse as a parallel to Nico and Reyna
It makes sense though
Both of them are daughters of a war goddess who spontaneously decided to take on a big sister role to the local traumatized queer child.
They are very gentle and caring with both of them and see a lot of themselves in the boys
Clarisse also coaches Will through being a head councilor and gives him a ton of tips on how to get his siblings to listen to him
When will confesses to her that his powers make him feel useless somtimes she reminds him that he is the reason half her cabin is alive to fight
She also offers to give him some combat training if that will help him feel a better, which he takes her up on
Will also helps Clarisse manage her anger.
Like if she’s having a really bad day she’ll just head over to the infirmary and hang out with him
Will also likes having her there to move heavy boxes
When Reyna is feeling stressed and overworked she asks Nico to teach her how to play mythomagic which he does
I like to think that the the four of them had a friendly rivalry post boo
Like they would sparr together or compete against one another in capture the flag
It nearly ended in many fatalities but Reyna did in fact win
But later Clarisse beat her at an arm wrestle to square off
After this they have a sort of best freinds sort of rivals thing going on
Like no one can tell if they like or hate one another
Not even them
Instead of Nico and/or will getting the shovel talk the girls give it to one another
Like ‘if you’re brother hurts my brother I will end you’ ‘I if Nico breaks his heart I’ll break your arm”
Despite this they are very aware of the mutual crushing and play wingman a lot
Reyna will intentionally throw Nico around in training for the sole purpose of getting him sent to the infirmary
Like not enough to cause any actual harm, but enough to have Will spend an afternoon with him
Clarisse is not much better.
She’ll make medical calls when she’s out doing training and Nico is in the vicinity
“Will! Come quick one of my campers just got hurt!” “…is Nico with you?” “….maybe…”
They also absolutely rally for them in any councilor meetings.
Like one time Will suggests that they have more basic first aid training for all campers and everyone is like ‘ehhhh idk’ but Clarisse is just standing behind him staring daggers at everyone and they switch up real fast.
Once Nico and Will are actually dating they give the worst relationship advice
Cause they are just as bad at it as the boys are
“Reyna I’m freaking out what if he tries to hold my hand?” “Tell him you want to have his babies”
“Are flowers too much for a first date?” “Not enough, I got Chris a bloody spear, think big solace.”
Homophobia is becomes basically a death penalty at both camps
Like if they’re is so much as a whisper of anything or anyone being homophobic they are the officially enemy #1 of the Ares cabin and like, the entire legion.
By the gods they will find a way to make your life a living hell.
Also Will makes Clarisse friendship bracelets
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artiststarme · 1 year
Text
Just Another Miscommunication
Based on a prompt given by @i-less-than-three-you! I hope it met your expectations! I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!
~*~*~*~
Steve had never been so hurt and offended in his life. After several months of dating Eddie in secret from the rest of the Party, they’d decided to tell them. Things were starting to get serious and they knew it would only be a matter of time before someone found out and spilled the beans to the rest of the group. 
Eddie had been a little nervous to come out, this was his first serious relationship in the middle of Nowhere, Indiana, he had a right to be worried. But Steve knew that everyone would take it well, they’d dealt with literal monsters so being gay in comparison had to be a smaller deal than that. 
What Steve hadn’t anticipated was how many shovel talks he would receive. He expected the one from Wayne (although that one still hadn’t come), maybe even one from Dustin. However, the rest of them had been a bitter surprise. 
His first shovel talk came from Robin. They’d been in the middle of a slow shift at Family Video when she decided to break the comfortable silence. 
“Hey Dingus, you know that you have to be careful with Eddie, right?”
“Robin, he’s a great guy. He’s not going to hurt me or whatever else you’re afraid of-”
“No, no, no. I’m saying you have to be gentle with him. This is his first relationship so you have to be gentle with him. You have experience from dating half of the girls in Hawkins, he doesn’t have that. Just, be careful not to break his heart, okay?” She looked at him imploringly until he nodded. 
“I’m not going to hurt him, Robin. We’ve been dating for months and we’ve never had a problem before. I’m not going to hurt him.”
“Okay, I just… wanted to make sure. Now, go rewind the tapes. We just got some more returns.” He groaned for good measure but moved along regardless. 
The next one later that day was Hopper. He was leaning against the Beemer in the staff parking lot behind Family Video waiting for Steve to get off work. 
Steve smiled at him and pranced over to give him a quick hug that wouldn’t impact either of their street creds. “Hey Hop, what’re you doing over here? Did I forget plans we had?”
“Nah kid, I'm just checking in. The kids said that you were seeing Munson now?” He cleared his throat and continued in a whisper. “You know, romantically?”
“Yeah, we’ve been dating for a few months. Why do you have a problem with that?” Steve glared at him while he waited for his answer. 
“Of course not! I just wanted to check in with you. And uh, I wanted to remind you that the Munson kid has been through a lot. Just, just don’t hurt him, okay?”
Steve sighed and shook his head. “You’re the second person to tell me that today. I’m not going to hurt him, alright? I love him.”
“Yeah but things change, kid. You feel like that now but you might end up hurting him later. Just be careful, alright?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“Good. Do you want to come over to the house for dinner tonight? I know El and Will would love to see you.” Hopper smiled and nudged his arm. 
With his mood thoroughly dimmed, Steve shook his head. “Nah, I have to run some errands and then I’m just going to run home. I’ll see you around though.”
He said his goodbyes to Hopper and ran over to Melvald’s to pick up a prescription and a couple of snacks for his place. While he was there, he saw Joyce and decided to make some friendly conversation. 
“Hey Mrs. Byers, how’s Will doing? Is he glad to be back in Hawkins? I know the kids like having him here to DM their nerd game.”
Joyce gave him a tight smile as she rang up his items. “Hi Steve. Yeah he likes it, I think he missed the boys, you know? Him and El weren’t big fans of California.”
“Yeah, I get that. Max always says it’s a lot hotter so I can’t even imagine. How’re you doing?”
“I’m doing well, thanks,” she said while scanning his various chips and snacks. “What’re all of these for?”
“Eddie. He can never choose just one flavor to munch on so I just keep a bunch on hand for him to choose from,” Steve answered, smiling at the thought of his boyfriend. 
“You know, I've been meaning to talk to you about that,” she said, glancing around the empty store. 
“Have you?” Steve asked apprehensively. He and Joyce didn’t get along super well so he was a little nervous for her to judge his relationship.
“Yeah. I want you to know that I support you guys and you both always have a safe space with me. But I just wanted to make sure that you took it easy with Eddie. That boy’s been through a lot and I know you didn’t always feel… accepting of queer relationships. Eddie is sensitive and you could really hurt him. So just, be gentle with him or I’ll have to send Hopper over to get your head on straight. Are we clear?”
Honestly, Steve was kind of lost but he nodded in spite of that. “Yep, crystal. I’m not going to hurt him, Mrs. Byers. Have a good day!”
Jesus Christ, did everyone think he was going to hurt Eddie? He knew that he made some questionable choices in the past as King Steve but he’d been trying to be better. Why couldn’t anyone see that? 
When he got home, he saw various bikes laying all over his front lawn. Now, the kids could just want a pool day to get out of this disgustingly warm summer weather. However, if they were looking to give him yet another shovel talk, Steve might just lose it. 
As expected, all of the kids were situated on his couch and turned to look at him when he walked in. They looked like they were staging an intervention for him. 
“Okay look, I’m really not in the mood for this. If you want to use the pool, fine. But if this is yet another shovel talk to warn me not to hurt Eddie, you can leave.” Steve crossed his arms as he looked at them and only Max was brave enough to go against him. 
“If you hurt Eddie, we’re going to have El open another gate to the Upside Down and feed you to a demogorgon,” she said in a deadpan voice with a blank face. 
El snapped her head to look at her then back to Steve. “Steve, I will not. Max, Steve is like my brother. I will not feed him to a demogorgon.” 
“What they mean to say is that we don’t want to see Eddie get hurt. If you hurt him, we’ll have to take matters into our own hands,” Dustin continued diplomatically. Both Lucas and Mike nodded but Will just shook his head in panicked confusion. 
“Dustin, I thought we were coming here to congratulate him and tell him we supported him! Why are we threatening him? Steve won’t hurt him!”
The other kids argued that he definitely could and actions needed to be taken to prevent that. Will and El just kept trying to jump in and defend Steve. 
And Steve just stared at them. “Okay, thanks so much for the threats. Everyone besides Will and El can leave. You can come back when you stop planning different ways to murder me when I hypothetically hurt Eddie.”
Steve gave all of the kids, besides Will and El, one last glare before he walked into the kitchen to make himself a coffee. Maybe that would ward off his approaching headache. He could hear muffled arguing from the living room where Will and El, his new favorite kids, were no doubt defending him. But alas a few moments later, he heard the noise stop and saw El pop her head into the kitchen. 
“I am sorry Steve, Will and I thought that we were coming to congratulate you on dating Eddie. We did not know that they would threaten you. Friends do not threaten to kill other friends.”
“It’s alright El, it’s called a shovel talk. Usually a family member gives one to the boyfriend so they know not to hurt them. I got a lot of them today so I’m annoyed,” he explained to her gently. 
“But, you will not hurt Eddie. You love him so why do people keep telling you not to hurt him?” She asked him in confusion.
“They care more about Eddie and they think I’ll hurt him,” his words visibly angered him so he backtracked a little bit. “It’s fine El, really. I’ll get over it.”
She moved towards him and pulled him into a hug. “I love you Steve and I do not think you will hurt him. Even if you do by accident, I will not feed you to a demogorgon.”
He barked out a quick laugh in surprise, “thanks El, are you and Will going swimming?”
“No, we are going home to paint miniatures for Will’s new DnD game. Would you like to come with us?” She pulled back from the hug enough to look up at him. 
“Nah, I’m just going to relax here but thanks for the offer. Have fun, okay?”
“Okay Steve, thank you!”
Then, Steve was alone. He was emotionally exhausted and hurt. How could everyone, besides Will and El, believe he’d hurt Eddie? He’d changed so much over the years and now he felt like he was right back where he started. How could they have such little faith in him? 
~*~*~*~
Eddie was expecting to spend a nice night with his boyfriend after a few long days without seeing him. Between work, spending time with the kids, and practicing with the band, it felt like forever since he’d gotten to spend any quality time with Steve. But when he walked through the ajar door of the Harrington home, he didn’t find a boyfriend that was happy to see him. Instead, he found Steve sitting on the kitchen counter with a troubled look on his face.
“Stevie, you alright? I hope it’s okay that I came in, the door was open,” he stepped closer to Steve and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “What’s going on?”
“Has anyone given you the shovel talk about dating me?” Steve asked him, his eyes staring into his eyes desperately. 
“Um no, why? Should they have?” Eddie asked, confused. 
“I don’t know, I guess not. Nearly everyone in the Party has given me one. Robin, Hopper, Joyce, the kids. Why haven’t any of them told you not to hurt me?”
“You want me to get threatened?” Eddie didn’t understand why Steve was so upset. Did he think that he was going to hurt him?
“No! I just- why does everyone automatically assume you’ll be the one to get hurt? Why won’t they tell you not to hurt me? That’s just as much of a possibility as me hurting you!”
“You think I’m going to hurt you? And you’re mad that no one else thinks so?” So Steve expected him to fuck this up?
“Yes!” Steve nodded at him. 
“I would never hurt you Stevie and I’m upset that you think I would. Why would I do anything to ruin this? You’re so perfect Steve that I would never do anything to mess this up.”
“Ed-”
“No! What’s the point of dating at all if you’re just waiting around for me to break your heart? That’s all I do though, right? Eddie the Freak, destroyer of all things good. Is that it?” All of the happy feelings that Eddie felt when he first walked through the door were long gone now. What, Steve was just waiting for Eddie to ruin everything like he always did? What the hell.
“Eddie, that’s not what I meant!”
“Whatever Steve, I’m sorry that you’ve seen this coming the entire time and I’m sorry you were right. I should’ve known that I would fuck this up too.” With that, Eddie marched out of Steve’s house and directly to his van. Admittedly, he shouldn’t have left. He should’ve stayed and worked this out with Steve. 
However, he didn’t want Steve to see the angry tears that streamed down his face on his drive home. He knew deep down that this was all a misunderstanding but Eddie couldn’t get over the fact that Steve was just another person that saw the worst in him. 
~*~*~*~
Wayne walked into the trailer to find it completely dark and silent, both unusual for Eddie. His nephew constantly left all of the lights on regardless of whether he was in the room or not, a quirk that took a toll on both Wayne’s annoyance and the electricity bill. And silence was not a commodity often associated with Eddie. The boy was loud in all senses of the word so for the trailer to be quiet, devoid of guitar riffs or excited rambling, was worrying. With a peek out the door, Wayne saw that Eddie’s van was out there which meant that he was home. 
When he looked into Eddie’s room, he saw a pathetic lump hidden under the covers with only an unruly mop of curls poking out. The covers twitched slightly as the lump sniffled. “Eds? Y’alright?”
“No,” he muttered, hiding his face deeper into his pillow. 
Wayne sighed and kissed all thoughts of coffee and a nap goodbye. Nonetheless, he sat at the edge of the bed and pulled at Eddie’s shoulder until he turned over. His eyes were red and irritated and his skin was flushed. “What the hell happened to you? I thought you were spending the evening with Steve? He do something?”
Eddie’s face screwed up in sadness as more tears welled up in his eyes. “Why do you automatically assume Steve did something? I’m the one who always fucks everything up, Uncle Wayne. Me! Why is everyone threatening Steve not to hurt me?”
Wayne looked at him in bemusement for a moment. “So you did something?”
Eddie made a muffled noise of outrage and pulled the covers back over his face.
“Boy, I can’t help ya if ya don’t use yer words. Tell me what happened and we’ll fix it,” Wayne tried to reassure him.
“Everybody has been giving Steve the shovel talk and telling him not to hurt me. But no one has given me the shovel talk to tell me not to hurt him. So Steve was upset and told me that I would be the one to hurt him and he was offended that no one else thought so. And then he said that I would be the one to hurt him!”
Wayne just looked at him for a long moment before lightly smacking the side of his head. 
“Hey, what the hell!” Eddie yelled in surprised anger as he yanked the covers off of himself. 
“Don’t be a dumbass then! Steve was trying to tell ya that he was hurt and ya turned it around on him! The kid’s not saying that yer gonna hurt him, he’s saying he wants people to stop assumin’ he’ll be the one to hurt you when he feels so much for ya.”
“So he’s not saying that I’m going to fuck everything up?” Eddie asked quietly.
“I think he’s sad that everyone else is taking your side and assumin’ that he’s going to be the one that ruins things. He just needed ya to listen.”
“What have I done?! How do I fix this? Uncle Wayne, help me!” Eddie jumped out of bed and started pacing in front of him. 
Wayne sighed again, he didn’t ask to be roped into these situations. “Look Eds, go to him and say that you’re sorry and you took it the wrong way. Then tell him that I gave you a shovel talk cause if you hurt that kid again, I’m gonna do more than smack ya upside the head, ya hear me? Now get goin’. Ya best stay over there so I can get some rest, alright?”
Eddie laughed and jumped off the bed, “thanks Uncle Wayne! You’re the best! I’ll go fix it and then tell you about it over carry-out later! Love you!”
Wayne shook his head as he watched Eddie run out the door, “love you too, kid.”
Both boys came back to the trailer a few hours later with takeout in tow. Eddie’s smile was beaming once again and Steve looked relieved. He gave Wayne a quick hug and a whispered thank you over the burgers and Wayne knew that they’d fixed things. There would be many miscommunications between the boys in the years to come but as long as they had Wayne to play interference, they’d be alright.
Permanent tag list: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1
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nightghoul381 · 5 months
Text
Nokto 3rd Anniversary Event
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A Beast's Dream Realized by Beauty
Chapter 1
This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Prince. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Premium End | Epilogue
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There’s been something I’ve been wondering about lately.
Clavis: “You work too much.”
Luke: “You work too much.”
Emma: “I knew it”
Chevalier: “…”
When I visited the foreign affairs faction, it was unusual to see all of the princes other than Nokto.
I’m face to face with two of them, Chevalier silently handling documents at his desk.
The central figure of today’s conversation is King Nokto.
Nokto is often absent form the court these days.
He seems to have many diplomatic appointments in quick succession, sometimes returning to the castle just before dawn.
(I heard you were busy with the social season, but…)
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Clavis: “At that rate, one day he’ll collapse from overwork. Let the love-nursing chapter begin, eh?”
Emma: “I don’t want to start.”
Luke: “Thanks to him working so much, I have free time.”
Emma: “If you ask Prince Chevalier, I’m sure there are plenty of jobs.”
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Luke: “No.”
Clavis: “Haha, somehow Nokto is the hardest working person in the foreign affairs faction.”
Clavis: “But, humans have limits. Unless you’re a super-human like Chevalier, you will die.”
Emma: “…I-I have to do whatever it takes to get him to rest.”
Clavis: “Do you have a shovel?”
Emma: “I don’t need one.”
Luke: “What about honey?”
Emma: “Don’t you want it?”
(The only way to get a busy Nokto to rest is to use my trump card, not a shovel or honey.)
--Nokto’s room—
Emma: “Nokto, welcome back!”
Nokto: “I’m home, I told you to go to sleep.”
Nokto came back late at night today. I greeted him while hugging him.
I missed his signature smell of the night.
Nokto: “…Are you up to something?”
Emma: “Why?”
Nokto: “Your body is stiff.”
His fingertips traced the lines of my body and I unintentionally reacted.
(As expected of Nokto, He’s tired but still sharp.)
Nokto: “Is it something dirty?”
Emma: “It’s not like that.”
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Nokto: “That’s unfortunate. Then what is it?”
Emma: “…It’s…”
Emma: “Recently, I’ve been feeling lonely.”
Nokto: “…”
Emma: “I’m missing my Nokto, so I feel like I want to take you somewhere far away and go on vacation with you.”
Nokto: “A vacation…”
(Nokto never takes a rest, even if I say ‘rest’.)
(But he’s sweet to me… If I approach it like this, he should definitely take a break.)
It takes some rough treatment to get the busy, hard-working Nokto to realize that he needs a break.
Emma: “Are you too busy?”
Nokto: “What do you mean? I can at least take a few days.”
Emma: “Really?!”
Nokto: “However—”
I was honestly very happy and Nokto grinned at me.
Nokto: “It’s in exchange for your dirty face, right?”
Emma: “I don’t know what face you’re talking about.”
Nokto: “Then I’ll tell you.”
Nokto’s finger caresses my lips and taps them.
(Do you want me to open my mouth?)
When I obediently obliged, he slipped his finger inside and tickled my tongue.
Unable to close my mouth, his obscene hands play with my tongue.
(What should I do… I’m starting to feel weird.)
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Nokto licked the moisture that was about to fall from the corner of my mouth.
Heat flooded through my body, pooling in the pit of my stomach.
Nokto: “See, you’re already looking nasty. It’s easy isn’t it?”
Finally, he removed his fingers and I was freed from his lewd play.
Emma: “…Nokto.”
Nokto: “Yes, yes I will accompany you on vacation.”
Nokto: “…Thanks, love.”
(Ah… he noticed.)
The soft way he said those last words turned the heat in my body to another emotion.
(Maybe that was just Nokto’s way of hiding his embarrassment.)
When I hugged Nokto again as he turned his back to change, our laughter echoed throughout the room.
A few days later, the talented Nokto immediately made time for me—
Old Lady: “Welcome, thank you for coming all this way.”
Old man: “Prince Nokto, it’s been a while. You’ve grown up…”
Nokto: “Yes, thanks to you. Thank you for taking me up on my request on such short notice.”
(Um…what do you mean?)
I offered to make the preparations for the vacation but Nokto insisted that he had an idea.
In that case, I decided to take his word for it and as a result, we visited the neighboring country of Benitoite.
When we arrived at the mansion in a prime location in Benitoite, we were greeted by a refined old couple.
I had already memorized most of the faces I’d seen in the social world, including in Benitoite.
I had never seen this couple.
(I heard that they would be hosting us in this mansion for a few days, but…)
Old lady: “There’s a rumor about that woman…”
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Nokto: “Yes, this is my fiancée.”
Emma: “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I hid my confusion behind a smile and bowed.
My fiance’s eyes lit up at the sight of me.
Old Lady: “Well, well… that Prince Nokto who kept us on our toes with his many infamous affairs, is really…”
Nokto: “I am now a single-minded person. Everyday I’m fascinated by the flowers that show no signs of wilting.”
Nokto hugs my shoulders and puts a beautiful, diplomatic smile on his lips.
The old couple seemed really touched, and we even received a small round of applause.
Emma: “Umm… I’m sorry for my lack of knowledge, what is your relationship with King Nokto?”
Nokto: “Relative.”
Emma: “Eh?”
Nokto: “They settled in Benitoite, but they have a distant connection with the royal lineage of Rhodolite.”
Old lady: “Now, I’m just a lowly Benitoite merchant.”
Old man: “Nokto once studied in Benitoite for a short period of time.”
Old man: “At that time, according the wishes of His Majesty the previous king and Sariel, we welcomed Nokto into our home.”
(What story is this, I’ve never heard of it!?)
Nokto smiled wryly as if my surprise had been obvious.
Nokto: “It’s nothing to hide, but I don’t think it’s worth talking about.”
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Nokto: “Speaking of studying abroad, I spent more time in the Acroite boarding school than in Benitoite.”
(Boarding school? This is the first time I’ve heard of it.)
It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to know Nokto, but it seems there are still many things I don’t know.
(But it’s weird, Nokto’s expression is somewhat awkward.)
Nokto: “By the way, there seems to be more luggage in the hall than the last time I visited.”
Old lady: “I’m sorry. Actually, I have plans to open a stall at the antique market that will be held in a few days.”
Old lady: “When I was sorting out my things, I found a lot of useless antiques. I wanted to sell them.”
Nokto: “Hmm… are there any books on display at the antique market?”
Old lady: “Yes. Not among the items we sell, but we do see stalls specializing in books every year.”
(Antique books!)
Nokto: “Then, shall we also take a peek at the market on that day?”
Emma: “…Did it show on my face?”
Nokto: “Extremely.”
(oops… even though it’s in front of the couple.)
I felt my ears burning and when I looked down, Nokto burst out laughing as if he couldn’t take it any more.
Nokto: “I don’t mind. You’re cute when you’re honest aren’t you?”
Emma: “Nokto…!”
Old lady: “Well, that Nokto sure has grown to laugh so much…”
Old man: “… I feel like I’m going to end up crying at my age.”
Old lady: “Me too… the old Nokto was a child who didn’t smile, as if he had forgotten his emotions somewhere else.”
Old lady: “It’s nice to see you smile with emotion.”
Nokto: “When are you talking about?”
Nokto’s expression became laced with bitterness.
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(Nokto… a child who doesn’t smile?)
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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year
Note
https://youtu.be/-KDS_NuXYHI
This is how I’d imagine Andy and jr ngl
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Summary: Don't ever ask Andy about his business...
Warnings: Fluff, Girl!Dad Andy, Shady A.J., Cursing, Shenanigans, Brief Talk of Murder, Minors DNI
A/N: Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own.
___
You're heading into the kitchen in search of an afternoon snack when you almost collide with your son, A.J. At thirteen-years-old, he's already a good head taller than your 5"2 frame. The boy was growing like a weed – with no signs of slowing down. At this rate he was going to be taller than Andy by the time he hit sixteen. 
“Woah!” He , grabbing your arm in an attempt to steady you. “You really gotta start watching how you take those corners, Mom. I really thought you were about to run me over.”
“Sorry, honey. I was on a mission – need something yummy to tide me over until dinner. Preferably something crunchy.” You tell him before shaking off his hold so that you can wrap an arm around his shoulders. “We got anything good in here?”
“Probably not. RoRo ate the last of the potato chips last night.” He answers as he follows you back into the kitchen towards the pantry.
Well, that was disappointing. You’d kind of had your heart set on some salt and vinegar kettle chips. “That’s alright.” Sighing, you begin to rifle through the cupboards. 
Maybe you’d munch on a few sourdough pretzel bites instead. 
“Looking for the pretzels?” 
“Uh huh.” You turn to stare at him over your shoulder. “Why? Don’t tell me those are gone too?”
“Yep.” He confirms. “Dad and KitCat polished ‘em off a couple days ago.”
“Seriously?” You grunt. “But everyone knows that the ones with the honey mustard seasonings are my favorite! And they still ate them?” 
Wasn’t family supposed to love you enough not to eat your shit? Wasn’t that, like, a cardinal rule or something?
“Mom…I really hate to break it to you, but…” A.J. leans over to rest his forearms on the island, his expressive hazel eyes dancing with mischief. “We’re living with a bunch of heathens. And at this point, I really think they’re beyond help. They’re way too far gone.”
Now that makes you laugh.
“You’re probably just saying that because they didn’t offer you any.” You’re still chuckling as you decide to try your luck with some hummus and carrots you’d stashed in the back of the fridge.
“They were incredibly rude. Katrina flat out told me that hoped she offended my “delicate sensibilities”.” He grumbles with a snort. “And then she got mad when I asked her how many cats she planned on living with when she moved out after college.”
“Bet she didn’t like that one very much.” You mutter as you decide against the carrots in favor of some garlic pita bread. 
“She didn’t. Even called me a few choice names that I’d rather not repeat. Mostly because I can’t pronounce them. And I refuse to look them up.” He sniffs, turning up his nose in mock outrage. “I told her that if she wants to insult her baby brother, then she needs to do it like a normal person.” 
“Right…I’ll, uh, ask your sister to stop using the dictionary to insult you the next time I see her.” You dip a chunk of pita into your hummus before popping it in your mouth. Shit was good.
“Thank you! She’s worse than BiBi now.” 
A.J. tries to steal a piece of your snack, only to pout when you slap his hand away. You boy was seriously starting to resemble Andy more and more these days, from their facial expressions to their shared mannerisms. Sometimes it was downright scary.
“You’re welcome, darling.” You’re about to shovel another bite of food into your mouth when a thought strikes you. “Mm! Speaking of Bianca, I thought she said her boyfriend was gonna stop by."
"He did." He grunts with a shrug.
That’s…odd. You think. You hadn’t heard the door while you were upstairs. And even though you’d been laying down, it wasn’t like you’d been sleeping or anything.  
"What? When?" You cough as you choke down a piece of bread. 
“Eh, probably about thirty minutes ago.” Comes your son’s noncommittal response. “I caught him before he could ring the bell."
And now you were doubly confused. Because A.J. never really seemed to care about the boys his sisters brought around. In fact, he mostly ignored them unless they brought food or wanted to talk about video games. Otherwise, he just stared at them without blinking until his foe got too uncomfortable.
"Good thing you were by the door, I guess.” You motion for him to hand you a bottle of water sitting on the edge of the counter so that you can wash down your snack. “But where is he now?"
Another shrug. And then he looks off in the direction of the yard. 
“Dad took him out back. Might’ve said something about wanting to show him the new shed."
“But A.J., sweetheart, we’ve had that shed for over a year now.” Okay, you were officially confused. What wasn’t he telling you? And where was BiBi’s boyfriend?
“It’s new to Eddie.” He looks back at you with unrepentant eyes before striding over to the refrigerator to grab himself a couple of black cherry sodas.  
“Could’ve sworn his name was Everett, but –” You force yourself to stop and think about what your son just said. “Wait a minute! Why the hell did your father take him back there?” You quickly reach for a paper towel to wipe your hands. 
This was not good. 
“Honestly, mom…” A.J. pauses to crack open his drink. “It's best if you don't know. Dad says plausible deniability is always the way to go in these kinds of situations.” He takes a deep pull from the can before letting out a small burp. “Sorry.”
Your feelings of concern were slowly morphing into panic. 
"W-what situation? What happened with your Dad and Everett?" You look and sound as if you’re prepared to shake somebody, which prompts him to take several steps away from you. Your son was smart enough to know to keep himself out of snatching distance. 
“A word to the wise, mother. Never ask us about our business." With that, he spins on his heel prepared to walk away. “This conversation never happened."
Of course Andy picks that particular moment to join both you and your boy in the kitchen, draping a heavy arm atop his shoulder. By all appearances, he looks like he’s been busy toiling in the yard. And he’s rocking the dirty smudges to prove it.  
“Andrew – what is going on?" Your wide eyes flit back and forth between your husband and son, waiting for one of them to break. “And where is Everett?” 
“I tried to tell her, Dad.” Your son murmurs. Without missing a beat, A.J. hands his father the other unopened can of soda, which he graciously accepts. 
“I know, son. And it’s nothing, sweetheart. BiBi’s friend, Elliott, just stopped by to tell us that he’s gonna have to miss our barbecue on the seventeenth. Something about choosing to study abroad in Russia. Nice kid. Sent him along with well wishes to his family and prayers for a safe flight.” He offers you a one armed shrug coupled with an all-too innocent grin, letting you know that he’s over this entire conversation.
“But why would you –?” Shit. “I thought he was gonna spend the summer working for his Uncle in Salem? What did you do to him?” 
Just how much damage control were you going to have to do here?
Andy clears his throat as he sips his soda. “Listen to the boy.” He gives A.J.’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “And please, my love, don’t ever ask us about our business.”
“But I thought…” You look away for a second, squinting at your sock covered feet while you collect your thoughts and puzzle this out. “Why would you –?” 
You turn back to them, only to discover that they’re long gone. Groaning, you fetch some tylenol from a nearby cabinet and toss it back. And then you go off to find your shoes. 
Time to check the backyard. 
As long as that poor young man wasn’t somewhere buried in your garden, you’d leave your Barber Boys to their freaking business. But until then, well…
Your family might as well start calling you Nancy fucking Drew.
END
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nothing new - oneshot
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Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader
Rating: M
Summary: After helping him with yet another breakup, your already fragile friendship with Dieter Bravo nearly reaches its breaking point.
Word count: 5,164
Notes: I’m back a little bit early! This idea came to me the other day and I wanted to write it ASAP. There is angst in this and Dieter’s a shitty friend, but he makes up for it. In this version he’s not an actor but a trust fund baby, but is still a mess. 
This fic is cross-posted to AO3 under the same name and my taglist can be found linked in my bio as well as my masterlist which is linked below.
Warnings: Loneliness, angst, friends to lovers, food mention, alcohol mention, jealousy, swearing, bad friendships, arguments, kissing, reference to sex, reference to drugs
masterlist (main) || masterlist (dieter bravo)
“Why would she break up with me, though?” Dieter asks, shoveling a massive bite of ice cream into his mouth. It’s four in the morning. You’ve been in crisis mode for the past six hours. It seems like your job is saving Dieter from crisis and not his best friend most days. After four years it’s getting a bit tiresome. But you do it all the same. Even if he never does the same for you. It’s not about that. 
You know exactly why Anika Novik, his girlfriend of the past–you rack your brain–six months (Dieter’s personal record since college, where his longest relationship had been a whopping ten months), broke up with him. It’s the same reason all of his girlfriends and boyfriends break up with him, or he with them. You’re not going to tell him why, not wanting to rock the boat. “Did she say why?” you ask instead. 
Dieter shakes his head and grabs a Kit-Kat from his pocket. Breaking it, he puts them in his bowl of ice cream. Well, there are other, more self-destructive ways that Dieter can and has dealt with breakups. Lord knows you’ve seen all of them. You should be grateful that he’s eating his feelings and not snorting them or fucking them away like he has in the past. “She said I needed to be more sensitive. Whatever the fuck that means.” 
You hold your tongue, knowing exactly what Anika means. Dieter’s not known for being the most… tactful of people. Especially when it comes to his partners. You know he’s just looking for a connection, that you maybe shouldn’t be this hard on him, even mentally. But sometimes he’s even been not so sensitive towards you. 
It’s been an odd friendship that you and Dieter have. You’re always willing to drop everything for him because he’s usually a good friend when he puts in the effort. Usually. 
You look at the time and sigh internally. “I’d love to stay up and chat more and figure out the mystery that is women’s minds, but I have to be at the courthouse in like four hours.” 
Dieter rolls his eyes. “Of course you do. You and work.” 
You have no idea what the fuck that means. “Yes, Dieter. Not all of us are trust fund babies.” 
Dieter pushes himself off his chair. “Okay, you go sleep or do whatever it is you need to do. I’ll take care of everything here and head out.” 
You narrow your eyes. He’s never taken care of anything in his life. But you’re too tired to make that argument. Shuffling off to bed, you know it’s not going to be easy getting to sleep. It never is when Dieter decides to show up. You can go days, full weeks even, when he doesn’t contact you. At first, he’d been on you all the time. Claiming to be best friends and everything. But as time’s passed, you’re beginning to realize more and more that you’re the backup friend. The failsafe in case no one else wants to deal with his ass. 
For all the liveliness Dieter Bravo has, he sure has a knack for making you feel lonely when you’re with him. 
It’s an endless cycle with him, a revolving door of being ignored or looked over for extended periods of time and thinking that you need to drop his ass like so many of your other friends have suggested. But when he does remember, when he does deign to talk to you and hang out with you, he makes you feel like the greatest person in the world. Most of the time.
You don’t know what to do. But this has been your life for six years. Since senior year of college. Always the life of the party, even then. The two of you have been in each others’ lives ever since; he even helped pay for your law school degree. And it wasn’t long before you noticed his revolving door of partners. You don’t know if it’s because you planted yourself firmly in the friendzone and made him perfectly aware, but he never once has hit on you or suggested that you try the whole dating thing with him. And then he would disappear or only interact with you when he felt like it. When he didn’t have anyone else to talk to. 
And you’re a giver. You have been since you were a little girl. Having a need to please everyone. You give and give and give and give until you have nothing left. And Dieter is a taker. 
You hear the door shut as Dieter leaves. 
When you get up a few hours later, the kitchen is as exactly as you left it.
- - - - 
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury –” 
Buzz. Buzz. 
You attempt to continue in your closing statement. “My client, Tara Potts –” 
Buzz. Buzz. 
You glance at the Assistant District Attorney, who is also your friend and can clearly hear your phone. She shakes her head. Keep going, Jen mouths, giving you a thumbs up. 
The buzzing in your pocket stops. And then it starts again. Sighing internally, you just hope that no one else can hear it. And that it doesn’t try to jump out of your skirt’s pocket. 
Once the jury has been sent to deliberation, you pull out your phone. You have twelve new texts and three missed calls from Dieter. Jesus Christ. 
“Heyyyy,” he says when you call him back. 
You’re not in the mood. “You know not to call me when I’m in court,” you snap. It’s the one rule that you have that’s hard and fast. You’re still the most junior attorney in the firm, you need to prove yourself. You’re glad that Jen, the ADA and partner in the firm, is also a long-time friend. 
“Cool your jets, ace attorney,” Dieter chuckles. “Was just going to see if you wanted to go to that new bar that opened up tonight. We can be each others’ hype man. I’m ready to go on the prowl again.” 
You hold back your sigh. It’s been over a week since you last saw Dieter. You try not to miss him when he’s too busy to talk to you. “Isn’t it a bit too—?”
“Too soon?” he interrupts. “Anika didn’t love me. And I didn’t love her. I thought I did. But maybe that’s why she ended things. It wasn’t meant to be.”
You refrain from reminding him that he’s said that about his last seven partners. “I guess. It’ll have to do with the case.” 
You also don’t know if you can stand being Dieter’s hype-woman. He never hypes you up in the way that you want or need him to. Never talks you up the way you talk him up. It always ends the same. Maybe tonight will be different though.
You almost believe it. 
“That’s a yes, right?” 
You exhale. “Fine.”
Boundaries are something that come easy to you when it’s other people. You’re able to establish them well, firmly setting them in place. Once upon a time, it had been the same with Dieter. But he’s not a person who’s been told many times in his life. And then there’s the other thing. 
You’ve been in love with him for the past year. And you know if you move out of your self-imposed friendzone, it’s only a matter of time before he drops you. 
Jen would tell you to dump his ass regardless. She and Nikki, the paralegal for the firm, have both made their opinions of your ersatz friendship with him very clear. “He’s using you, babe,” Nikki had told you over cocktails last week when you had vented to them at happy hour. “You’re like his own personal emotional support toy.” She frowns. “I don’t know where I was going with that. You know what I’m trying to say.”  
You had frowned. “It’s not like that,” you argued. Your argument was weak, even to your ears. 
“Yes! You won’t regret it.” You already do a little bit. Because he won’t even consider you. You know that’s partially your fault. But even if he does, it’s only a matter of time until your novelty will wear off as a prospective partner. 
You spot Jen across the foyer. “Hey, are you busy tonight?” you ask, falling into step next to her. 
“Family thing with my cousin, why?” 
Playing cool, you shrug. “No reason. Just wondering.” 
Her eyes narrow at you. “You have that look. The ‘I just talked to the dumbass and he got me to do something for him’ look.” 
She’s too smart for her own good. “He’s not a dumbass,” you say. 
“No. Just an asshole who’s using you. What is it this time? No, don’t tell me. I need to go into this vacation calm and collected.” 
Can’t say you blame her. “It might be different this time,” you say. 
Jen gives you the look she reserves for the very dumb witnesses and defendants taking the stand. “Girl. You’ve been saying that for the past year. Possibly more.” Changing tacks, she says, “Listen. It sucks. He sucks. Friends are supposed to build each other up not make you feel like shit. You’re amazing at defending the innocent. You’re so good with putting others first. But it isn’t selfish to put yourself first every now and again.” 
You absorb her words. “Have a good weekend with your cousin,” you say. 
- - - - 
Your uber pulls up at the club at eight-fifteen. As always, you’re here first. Dieter will either be right behind you or be hours late or forget entirely. You snag a table and order a whiskey sour. Something tells you you’re going to need it. 
Nursing your drink, you take in the crowd. It’s probably too early to get a definitive vibe of the crowd. Most folks probably won’t come until later. 
Jen’s words from earlier stick in your brain. It wouldn’t hurt to re-establish some boundaries. You can tell him how you feel. How lonely you feel in his presence. How you feel like the failsafe, the backup. The afterthought. And if he doesn’t like it, well then too bad.
Easier said than done. 
As you’re ruminating, you feel a pair of eyes on you. Glancing across the room, you see a man at the bar. He’s cute. Tall, dark hair, the beginnings of a beard. He catches you watching him watch you and he raises his glass to you. You return the gesture and he makes his way over to your table. 
“No woman as pretty as you should be drinking alone,” he starts.
Your face warms. “I’m not alone,” you counter, gesturing at him. “But also I’m waiting for my friend.” 
The man frowns at your pinched expression at the mention of your friend but he doesn’t know you. “Well, I’ll keep you company until he shows up. Unless I’m way out of line here. You’re well within your rights to tell me to fuck off.” 
You laugh. “I am a lawyer so I’d do it in legal jargon.” 
“Cute and smart. You got a name, or should I just call you Ally McBeal?” 
You laugh and tell him your name, and he’s about to tell you yours when Dieter arrives. “Hey,” he says, his voice hard. 
“Oh, hey, Deet. This is…” you gesture to the man sitting in what’s supposed to be Dieter’s seat. 
He looks between you, sensing something off. But he’s not going to say anything to this woman he just met. “Matt. You must be the friend.”
“Yeah. I’m the friend.” 
What’s got him in a mood tonight? 
“Well, Ally, it was nice to meet you. You, too, dude.” The man gets up from his seat, pushing a napkin towards you. 
Dieter takes no time in taking the seat that Matt just vacated. You pick up the napkin and fold it over and over again. “What’s wrong with you?” you ask. 
“That guy is a perv.” 
You scoff. “Dieter, I’m a lawyer. I think I would have picked up on that if that were the case. He was just keeping me company while I was waiting for you.” 
“Yeah, guess you don’t need my help hyping you up,” he mutters. And it stings. 
Dieter’s needy. Always has been. You could be the peacekeeper, the placater, but you remember Jen’s words. “That’s why we came here, right? So you could go on the prowl. Never said anything about me not going on the prowl either. Also, I need to talk to you about something.” 
A waiter comes to the table to take Dieter’s order. “A double whiskey. Neat.” 
You remember Dieter when he was a good friend. And you miss that time in your life. “Dieter.” 
His eyes land back on you. “Yeah?” The waiter comes back with Dieter’s drink and his eyes wander around the room again, landing on a girl sitting in the corner with a group of friends. “Holy shit.” 
“What? What is it?” Fearing the worst. 
Dieter turns his attention back to you for the briefest of moments. “That’s Kate Grimley. She’s the perfect girl for me,” he proclaims. “Could you imagine her and I as a power couple? Her showing up on my arm at events?” His eyes glaze over at the image he’s presented. And for a second, you’re glad that you and he don’t have a chance. 
“I don’t think that’s the best reason to ask someone out. I hardly think she’d want to be a trophy.” 
Dieter waves you off and takes a drink of his whiskey. “Yeah, right. She’s the perfect girl for me. What did you wanna talk to me about?” 
You’re not going to sweep it under the rug, not going to bottle it up. “Never mind. It’s nothing. Why don’t you go talk to her?” 
Goddammit. 
He nods and, taking his whiskey with him, goes over to the girl’s table. Leaving you alone. Again. He seems to hit it off with her pretty quick. He doesn’t need you to be his wingwoman. Ordering an uber, you close your tab and look down at the napkin in your hands. It has writing on it you notice. A phone number.  
You put it in your purse and slink out of the club without so much as another glance in Dieter’s direction. 
On the ride home, Dieter’s text tone goes off. Where’d you go? :( 
For the first time in your friendship, you leave it on read.
- - - - 
 Over the next few weeks, you only answer Dieter’s texts here and there. You keep avoiding his requests to hang out, claiming to be busy with a case. It isn’t a complete lie. It’s Jen’s case, but you’re pitching in as well. And in your down time, you hang out with Jen and Nikki and begin to prioritize yourself. 
One day when you’re cleaning your apartment, something you’ve put off for a while, there’s a knock on the door. Turning off your audiobook, you go to the door, looking through the peephole. It’s Dieter, holding two Starbucks cups. 
You sigh and open the door. The vacuum had been on just a second ago so he knows you’re here. “Hey.” 
“Did I do something?” he asks. “You barely talk to me anymore.” 
Opening and closing your mouth several times in quick succession, you flounder for an answer. “I’ve been busy with work, you know that.” 
“No, don’t give me that bullshit. I miss my best friend and we hardly hang out anymore. We used to all the time.” 
A lump forms in your throat. You thought this version of Dieter had been gone. The version that cared about his friends beyond just using them. “I’m sorry,” you say and then immediately curse yourself. You have nothing to apologize for. 
“It’s all good. I know you’re busy with becoming the best attorney LA’s ever seen. Doesn’t mean we can’t chill in the down low.” He holds up a cup. “Brought you your favourite.” 
He sits on the couch with you, and you chat about things that aren’t deep. “How are things going with Kate?” you ask. 
Dieter grumbles something and swirls the coffee around in his cup. “She’s too busy to date at the moment. She’s going to let me know when something in her schedule clears up, though.” He takes a sip and says, “I don’t think she realizes what she’s missing out on. She’s giving me the run-around.” 
You rub your eyes in annoyance. “Try giving her the benefit of the doubt. She didn’t say no. She said not just now.” 
“Yeah. Maybe you’re right. It’s only been a few weeks. And she’s still responding to my texts and everything.” 
He leaves shortly after that, having to go to a board meeting. As you return to your cleaning, you find the napkin that has Matt’s number on it. Fuck it. 
Hey, I know it’s been a while. It’s “Ally McBeal.” 
The three dots pop up almost immediately. 
A week later and some more strong communication with Dieter, you find yourself at a cafe with Matt. You didn’t tell Dieter about this. He doesn’t need to know. Jen knows all about it though. 
Dieter presses the call button, strolling down the sidewalk, eager to tell you his news. 
The ringing of your phone interrupts your story. “Sorry, I’m just going to see who it is.” You pull the phone from your purse. It’s Dieter. “Not important. They can leave a message.” 
A minute later, your phone rings again. It’s Dieter again. 
“If you have to answer it, that’s okay. Don’t let me keep you from anything,” offers Matt.
You shake your head. “It’s fine.” You press the decline call button and put it on do not disturb as well. “What were you saying?” you ask
Dieter frowns as the call is suddenly dropped. He’s just about to try again when he sees you in the window of a coffee shop. You’re smiling at something, someone. God, your smile. He doesn’t deserve you, he really doesn’t. He doesn’t know how you put up with all his bullshit. Maybe that’s why he’s felt you pulling away some in recent weeks. It isn’t jealousy, he knows that. Perhaps the inevitable has finally come. You’re tired of his shit. But he still wants to tell you his good news, so he walks into the cafe. 
And sees you sitting with the perv from the bar. He doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like the way that this dude is looking at you like you’re something to eat.
“Hey.” He makes himself known. 
Reluctantly, you turn in your chair. “Dieter. What are you doing here?” You lace your voice with enough for him to intuit that you don’t want him here right now. 
“I…” Dieter stalls, thinking of something to say. “I need you to come with me right now.” 
You balk. “I’m kind of busy right now. Can it wait?” 
Dieter shakes his head. “It’s urgent.” 
Matt, ever the gentleman, steps in. He knows exactly where your friend fits into all this. Knows what neither of you want to admit to each other or yourselves. “It’s cool. I have to get back to the office soon, anyway.” 
Before you can say anything, Matt stands, leaves a twenty on the table and offers you a tight smile. Silence falls between you and Dieter for a full thirty seconds. 
“What the fuck, Dieter?” you ask. “What was so important that you needed to interrupt my date?” 
Dieter knows he fucked up. It was a low thing to do. But he doesn’t know what came over him. It’s a new sensation, one he can’t describe. 
“Well? It better be a damn good reason,” you prompt looking expectantly at him. 
Dieter’s mouth goes dry. You’ve never dressed like this for him before. “I… uh… Kate finally got back to me. We’re going out on Saturday night.” 
You blink slowly. “You mean to tell me that you broke up my date, with a perfectly nice guy, to tell me that you got a date with a girl you just want as arm candy?” 
Dieter blanches at your cold, seething fury. He fucked up all right. “Well, uh, when you put it like that…” 
You scoff, grab your purse and walk out of the cafe, into the park where you hope you can evade him. He’s quick on your heels. 
“Will you just hear me out?” he asks. 
The laugh that escapes you is bordering on manic. “What is there to hear out?” you ask. 
“That guy is bad news.” 
You shake your head. “You just don’t want to admit that you’re jealous. You’re jealous that your failsafe is paying attention to someone else and you don’t like it when all the attention isn’t on you.” You’re so right, Dieter realizes. And so wrong at the same time. He doesn’t know what you mean when you say that you’re a failsafe. But he is jealous. Of what, he doesn’t know. But he doesn’t have time to explain himself. “You’re a dick, David.” 
In all the years you’ve known him, you’ve never once used his government name when addressing him. If you’re using his real name, you must be livid. 
You turn on your heel and walk away from him. Leaving him behind. 
- - - - 
Dieter calls and texts and sends emails and messages and every sort of modern method of communication. You don’t respond to any of them. He knows he fucked up with you. On more than one count. But he can’t figure out what it is that you’re so mad about. Sure he broke up the date, but he had a bad feeling about Matt. Something he still can’t put his finger on. The jealousy, too. 
Still, he can’t focus on it for too long because he has a date to get to. 
He meets Kate at an up-and-coming restaurant. She’s dressed in a nice black dress, her makeup done and her hair down in waves. She’s pretty, but she’s not on your level of pretty. 
Over appetizers, Dieter struggles to find something to talk about. It’s always so easy to talk to you. Or at least it was. 
It hits him like a ton of bricks as Kate talks about something he has no interest in. It’s you. He wants you. He likes you. 
“...hear a thing I just said?” Kate asks. 
Dieter blinks. “What? Sorry. Um. I’m going to be honest with you, Kate. You’re really nice and you’re hot as fuck but I don’t think this is going to work out. I’m sorry.” 
Kate frowns. “Hang on. This whole thing was what you wanted. You kept asking me and asking me to go out with you. And now you don’t want to?” 
“Something like that, yeah. It’s not you, I promise.” 
She scoffs. “Whatever.” 
Dieter waves down the server. “We’re done here,” he says, handing over his black card. Leaving a hefty tip, he says to Kate, “I promise, it isn’t anything to do with you.” 
Kate rolls her eyes and says nothing. 
Hailing the nearest cab, he tells the driver the address of your apartment. He needs to see you. Needs to make things right. Tell you everything. 
The knock on the door comes just after eight-thirty. You ignore it. The knock comes louder. 
Going to the door, you see that it’s Dieter. “Go away!” 
He’s not giving up that easily. “Please just let me explain everything.” 
Against your better judgment, you open the door. “Fine. Come in. And I reserve the right to kick you out at any time.” 
Dieter follows you into the living room, sitting on the couch. You look at him, half-expectantly half-annoyed. “I’ve been an asshole,” he starts.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” you grumble.
Licking his lips he continues. “I was on my date with Kate earlier tonight and I realized something. The entire time, I wanted it to be you. You were right. I am jealous of Matt. I’m jealous that you were spending time with him and not me… on a date.” 
You can’t be hearing this right. “Dieter, what are you saying?” you ask, managing to keep your voice level. 
“It’s you. It’s always been you. And I know that… you don’t want to go down that route, you just want to be friends, but—”
“I’m in love with you, you idiot,” you interrupt him. You don’t sound happy about it, though.
Dieter’s heart jumps into his throat. “Then why—why were you on a date with that guy?” 
You scoff, your eyes hard and shiny with unshed tears. “Because I’m trying to move on from you. You have such a revolving door of partners. As soon as you’re bored with someone, you drop them or make them drop you so that you can move on to the next shiny, new toy. Dieter, I don’t think I could handle it if you did that to me. You already treat me like a failsafe.” 
There’s that word again. “What do you mean by that, exactly?” he asks, dreading the answer. 
“You…” Your voice cracks and you try again, all the things you’ve kept bottled up inside of you spilling out. “You only call me up when you need or want something and everyone else is busy. I’m the failsafe. And sometimes you’re such a terrible fucking friend to me. You take and you take and you take and you take. You never give, you’re always taking advantage of my giving nature. The only time you give is when you want something in return. You’re an asshole.” 
Dieter doesn’t defend himself, doesn’t try to deny what you accuse him of. He just listens and takes it. Because you’re right. Of course you’re right. Taking a deep breath, he says, “I know. You’re right. And I’m so, so sorry I treated you that way. I’m sorry you had to deal with that for so long. I’m sorry for how I’ve dealt with my feelings and how you’ve had to witness and be at the receiving end of those.” His own voice is trembling. He’s lucky that you even have allowed him in and haven’t kicked him to the curb long ago. It’s a sign of your kindness, he thinks.
You sigh. “Thank you.” It isn’t forgiveness. It’s too soon for that. “I’ve been in love with you for a while and I’ve kept my distance because I know you’re just going to get bored with me. I’m nothing new, nothing exciting.” 
Dieter shakes his head. “That couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s true that I’ve dropped people like hot potatoes when a relationship has run its course. I’m not denying that. But I like you. I’ve never gotten jealous of anyone else before. I’ve never… yearned for someone’s company like I yearn for yours. I just don’t want to come across as overbearing.” 
You swallow. “Then why do you go weeks without contacting me?”
“Because… I don’t want you to realize that I’m not good. But you figured that out already. Please tell me what I can do to make it up to you. I know it’s a mountain to climb, I know that, but I want to be a better man. I want to be with you.” 
You consider it for a long minute. “I forgive you,” you say to his immense relief. “But you need to work to show me you mean it and I’ll decide if I can trust to be with you. But it can’t be an empty promise or a meaningless gesture.” 
Dieter nods. It’s the least he can do. And he’s going to do that and more. “Yeah, okay,” he murmurs. A beat passes. “Can I… can I kiss you? Or is that asking too much?” 
You sigh. “All right.” Getting up, you cross the short distance to the couch. Cupping his bearded cheek with your palm, you lean in and press your lips to his. 
It’s chaste but with a modicum of heat. Dieter breathes your name and looks utterly wrecked by the little kiss. 
“I mean it, David. If you mess this up, you’re gone,” you say. 
He smiles. “Understood. You’re stuck with me, I promise.”
- - - - 
Eighteen months later 
True to his word, Dieter is stuck with you. It took a lot of effort and work on his part to prove that he was serious about you and serious about changing. He’s made it clear that he hasn’t changed just for you. 
Six months after you had your discussion, Dieter had still continued to hold up his end of the bargain. He wasn’t doing it out of obligation. He was doing it because he wanted to become a better man. To be with you and to make amends. His first order of business was to start attending therapy to figure out why he behaved the way he did. He’s made some real improvements with himself. 
And now, a year later, you and he are still going strong. Your relationship is new and exciting everyday. He isn’t even remotely bored with you. Dieter loves waking up with you and spending his time with you and experiencing new things with you. He can’t believe it took what it did to get here. That it took being on the brink of ruining everything to realize what it was he truly wanted, who he truly wanted. The first time you came together was like the first time all over again. Magical and right and everything he’s ever imagined it being. And it’s like that every time. Regardless of how many times (and it’s been many, many times). 
You’re on even, solid ground now. More equal in your give and take with him. And it didn’t take long for you to remember how considerate and kind he is.  
He wants to spend the rest of his life with you. He never once has thought of you as a prize to be won. Not some trophy. You’re his best friend. The person he loves most and would do anything for. It dawned on him not long after your discussion why none of his relationships ever worked. He was waiting for the right person. He’s had the right person right in front of him the entire time and he’s so glad that he realized it before it was too late. He’s never once taken you for granted ever again. Sure you have little fights and squabbles here and there, but it’s always the two of you against the issue you’re facing and you’re always able to overcome it. When you’re together with him, it’s like you can overcome anything. 
You had been afraid that you would be nothing new to Dieter, that he would quickly toss you aside, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. You’re exciting and fun and completely you. Everything he’s always wanted. And you never doubt it for a second.
The End.
 --- taglist in reblog
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breeofbree · 9 months
Text
You’re on
Temari x f!reader
Summary: friendly competition turns in to fluff.
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She glared at me, eyes unblinking as her chopsticks scrape the bottom of her bowl of rice. I refuse to drop her gaze, quickly shoveling one last piece of meat and some rice in to my mouth as my eyebrows knit together. Temari only breaks our connection to lift the bowl unceremoniously to her face, allowing me to do the same.
“Done!” We shout in perfect unison as the bowls slam down against the table. Shikamaru groans, face against the table in boredom as Choji laughs,” it’s another tie. You guys are going to be at this all night.”
“My bowl hit the table first, you seen it… right Shikamaru?” Temari stammers out, slapping her hands against the table as she stands.
“Why are you asking me? I’m not even watching… such a drag.” Shikamaru huffs out, sliding his chair in place with his foot and quickly making his way to the exit of the barbecue restaurant.
“Choji is right, it was another perfect tie. Can we settle this with something other than food? This bill is starting to look like a house payment, and I can think of several places I’d rather be.” Ino mumbles out, scanning the receipt the waitress slipped at the end of the table. Mouth still full, I grab it to see the damage. I choke at the final price,” yeah. You’re right, I’ll grab the bill.”
“Please. It was my challenge so I’m paying.” Temari quips back, snatching it from my hands before her eyes bulge upon seeing the price.
“Temari, it’s fine. Just let me pay it since it was my stupid idea.” I answer, quickly pulling out cash from my side pouch. She rolls her eyes in reply, sliding the receipt back over before standing,” fine. But I choose the next challenge.”
“You’re only here for another night, why don’t you just relax and enjoy the hot springs or something?” Ino offers, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder while opening the door.
“Why don’t you join us Ino?” I pipe up, catching up to them on the street with Choji in tow.
“Honestly? No thanks. I don’t want to think of how you two will make it in to a challenge.” Ino chuckles out, already breaking from the group in front of the flower store before continuing,” besides, we have a wedding order we have to prepare for and looks like the shipment just came in.”
I look at the remaining two behind me after Ino quickly runs off in to the shop and locks the door,” Choji?”
“I wouldn’t be much company unless you care to talk across a wall the whole time we’re there. I’ll go see where Shikamaru is hiding.” Choji dryly excuses himself as he’s already walking away. As my eyes meet Temari’s, she quickly looks to the ground and takes a second to regain her cocky composure,” well don’t just stand there. Are you waiting for me to ask if we should race there or something?”
“No, maybe we should just enjoy it. I have a mission tomorrow anyway, and you have a long trek back to the sand.” I shyly huff out, scratching at the back of my head and awkwardly adjusting my headband. She nods stiffly, robotically shuffling towards the springs. The short walk was silent, casually stealing glances and looking for a sign of competition. After checking in and getting in to towels, I let the evening air welcome me as the door slides open to the outside. Heavy steam floats lazily over the springs as the lights illuminate from underneath. The sun tinges orange as the night time hum of crickets settles in to replace bird song. I breathe deep, closing my eyes and tilting my head to take in the serenity that’s quickly interrupted.
“It’s peaceful.” Temari whispers sidling your beside me, motioning with her head to reveal the springs were empty except us. I nod back, sitting against the rock ledge to dip my legs in the hot water,” yeah. I guess that’s rare when the two of us are together. She giggles back and joins me on the ledge,” I guess so. But I enjoy us together- the competition part… friendly rivalry and all.”
Temari clears her throat as her face turns red before biting her lip. I could’ve mistook her blush for the rising heat of the springs, but we weren’t even fully in.
“Yeah, I enjoy us together too… I enjoy having a reasonable competitor I mean.” I stammer out, adjusting my hand and accidentally bumping hers. We awkwardly laugh together as our hands fly away at the touch,”s-sorry! I’m just- tired?”
She smiles, dropping her hand back between us and leaning towards me,” I’m not even close to tired. Guess that means I might be more of a challenge than you think.”
I instinctively lean closer towards her, replacing my own hand on top of hers,” it’s easier when I let you win all the time. I just enjoy the look of happiness when you win.”
She sucks in her breath, gasping slightly,” y-yeah right. You’re just trying to catch me off guard is all. But it won’t work on me.”
Temaris hand quickly slides from beneath mine, inching closer towards my waist line as her eyes narrow. It was my turn to blush as her finger darts up to trace the hem of my towel as she continues,” or maybe you do have an infatuation with me like you claim…”
I quickly grip her hand with both of mine to stop her motion, setting both our hands in my lap as my heads drops,” listen. I like you… a lot. But if you’re just going to use that as an advantage I can’t lie when I say it would honestly break my heart, Temari. That’s why I hide it, I like how we are.”
Tamari’s voice catches in her throat as her body stills,” I’m not one to play on someone’s emotions unless it was for the good of my village or my allies. I seen what it does first hand with Gaara.”
“So then, what are we even doing right now, Temari?” I utter out, squeezing her hand slightly.
She takes several moments of silence before replying,” enjoying a peaceful moment… together.”
Temari drops her head softly on my shoulder, sighing deeply before a soft chuckle vibrates against me,” I have to admit, you hide your emotions very well, Y/N. I thought you truly hated me and you were out to prove you were better than me.”
I slowly rest my head on top of hers, catching soft notes of lavender and a sweet scent from fresh cactus,” I could never begin to hate you.”
A yawn quickly escapes me as my eyes droop and Temari is quick to follow,” Y/N, I like you. Maybe more than I should with how far apart we are.”
“Listen, distance is nothing. I can apply for more aid missions in the sand village or whatever. If that’s truly all you’re worried about… it’s nothing.” I sigh, snaking a hand around her back and up to stroke the top of her head, admiring how her hair looked down. She hums in content,” or you could just transfer to the sand village completely… or I could come here.”
“Gaara needs you, he is Kazekage and he needs your support. Let’s take our time, okay? We don’t have to rush things.” I reply, wondering if distance would truly be our demise. Temari’s hand curls around my waist as she nuzzles closer and giggles,” so you are smart sometimes.”
“Hey! That’s a low blow. Plus it’s not easy for me, you can’t exactly just leave the ANBU.” I remind her, half of me hoping she isn’t upset, and the other half excited I only had three missions left.
“You don’t have many missions left, what will you do afterwards?” She asks, yawning again.
“Probably what most do, become a sensei to the Genin so I still have income and pester you when I can.” I giggle back as her head tilts.
I watch her face contort from argumentative, to a heavenly sight. Her eye’s drooped peacefully, blonde hair clinging to her misted face and pink tinged cheeks. Lips plump, almost begging to be kissed. They beckoned harshly, and I couldn’t resist. Quickly leaning down to break the distance and feeling as her body stills before leaning fully in to mine, coincidentally sending us both in to the springs. A yelp sounds from Temari as we both sink below the surface. I break through, gasping for air and wiping the steaming water from my eyes and laughing. Temari is quick to follow, slowly fishing our completely soaked towels from below.
“Well… there goes our modesty on the way in.” She laughs, tossing them against the edge with a loud smacking noise. I huff a laugh and splash a handful of water against her,” please, you of all people worried about your modesty? You dragged me under on purpose!”
“How else am I supposed to watch you walk out in front of me naked without asking bluntly?” She quips back. I shrug my shoulders as she splashed me back,” all you have to do is ask.”
As I wipe the fresh water once again from my eyes, my lips are quickly met with hers once again. She lingers for several seconds, taking in all my senses as her hands trace random patterns against my back,” well next time I’ll make sure to just steal your clothes from your locker so I can see you in my clothes.”
“Is that a promise?” I fire back, pushing her down in to the water. We splash each other a few times, quickly interrupted by a dramatic groan,” I knew you two would make this in to a competition.”
“Ino!” We both scream in unison, quickly covering ourselves.
“Please, it’s a hot spring. No need for modesty you weirdos.” Ino scoffs, dropping her towel above our soaked ones without noticing. Temari groans, quickly followed by myself,” and now all three of us will have to walk back naked.”
Ino looks to her now drenched towel, quickly grimacing,” what did you two idiots even do?”
I circle my arm around Temari and pull her close, receiving an eyebrow raise from Ino,” it’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.” She feigns a yawn of boredom, examining her nails and pointing her sight to a now beet red Temari. Her eyes widen in realization,” I knew it! Oh no! Did I interrupt a love confession?”
“No, no. That parts already over. You missed it.” I laugh while quickly being pulled in to Temari’s body, one hand behind me and the other clamping over my mouth,” alright you two! Enough gossip for tonight. Don’t go running your mouth to anyone just yet, Ino.”
Temari throws a threatening glance as Ino just shrugs,” who do you expect me to tell anyways, Sakura? No thanks. Shikamaru and Choji are deaf ears regardless unless it’s about Shogi or food. It’s our little secret… for now.”
“So a more pressing matter… who wants to walk naked inside to grab more towels?” I giggle out, breaking the tense air Temari is giving off. Ino rises, letting the shifting water lap against her before she turns to us,” you two worry about covering your bodies but don’t bat an eye while making absolute fools of yourselves in the middle of the village… I just don’t get it.”
As she saunters inside, stark naked and hiding nothing, I turn to Temari and smile mischievously,” one last kiss before we part ways?”
She pecks my lips quickly, smiling back,” one for now, one for when I wake up in the morning next to you.”
Fighting for love was one thing, but a love for fighting is what drove us crazy for each other, and I loved the thought of fighting with her for years to come… playfully of course.
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astralisbelle · 1 year
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Dead Man's Hand 13 - It's Never Enough
Dead Man's Hand Masterlist tags: engineer!reader, gambler!reader, loose canon timeline, eventual smut, fluff, action, casino aesthetics, touch starved reader, touch starved din, reader and din get on each other’s nerves, also they’re idiots, defrosting ice king din, cinderella vibes, everybody loves grogu
chapter summary: They have a talk and she's determined to keep going. Unfortunately, there are other obstacles in their way.
notes: we've reached 1000 likes, 100 reblogs, and over 50 followers omg thank you all SO SO much. I love writing Mando content so I'm already thinking about what I can write next once this series wraps up. feel free to drops suggestions or requests in my ask box :) thank you again!
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Grogu’s eyes regain focus and he smacks his lips, blinking away the rest of his tiredness. He makes a little squeak as he stretches his arms out, rubbing his eyes.
He hoists himself out of his pram and surveys the room, lit by the late morning sun. His big ears twitch when he hears the stream of the shower in the bathroom. Must be his father, seeing as how his armor is still laid out on the table. Speaking of table, he sees a tray two plates, one missing food and the other still covered. Did his dad order breakfast? Is there anything for him?
Oh, but he doesn’t want to eat alone. He waddles towards the bedroom door, wanting to go wake her up. Maybe she’ll let him take another bath with her too. Once the door opens, he climbs onto the bed and babbles towards her. She sleeps on her stomach, blanket covering her shoulders. Grogu walks towards her head and pats on her cheek. He coos, hoping the sound of his voice will wake her up.
“Mmgh…” She moans a little, stirring. A yawn escapes her as her eyes flutter open. “Mm… Grogu?” She pushes herself to sit up, the blanket slipping off her shoulders. It’s only now that she remembers she’s naked and quickly covers her chest. “Grogu!”
The child just tilts his head, confused at her reaction.
Memories flood back into her mind. It all happened in complete darkness, but each sound, each touch, each sensation was clear. So that… that really happened. Din and I… Her face reddens and she clamps her hand over her mouth to muffle a yelp. She looks over her shoulder… no Din. Oh Stars, he didn’t leave, did he? Wait, of course not, Grogu is still here. “Where’s…”
Grogu makes a noise and points towards the bathroom. Now that she strains her ear, she hears the shower turn off. Her heart immediately races. Grogu nudges her again, babbling and pointing towards the door. “Okay, okay. I’m coming.” She gulps and slips off the bed, wrapping the bed sheet around her torso. As she does, she winces and mouths a quiet “ow.” Why am I so sore — right…
Grogu leads the way, more interested in the food waiting for them. She lifts a brow. Food? Did… Din order this? She notices one plate is already finished. Sitting down, she uncovers the other plate, steam escaping and revealing a hearty plate of breakfast. Grogu jumps onto her lap, reaching for the small bites that he can shovel into his mouth. “You go ahead, kid,” she says, listening to the sounds behind the bathroom door. “I don’t think I can eat yet…”
She isn’t sure how this is going to go, but she doubts it’ll end in anything other than the Mandalorian telling her to forget about it, that it never happened. And will never happen again. She was, after all, just being selfish. Maybe he hates her for it. Her stomach feels too tight to accept any food, so she just waits in agony.
The door opens. She lifts her head and he steps out, helmet blocking any indication of his emotion. He’s fully dressed, apart from the beskar he needs to put back on. His heavy gait towards them makes her heart race and her mouth dry. Without a word, he sits down across from them, reaching for his armor and putting it on, piece by piece.
Nothing? He’s going to say nothing? She grits her teeth. “Okay, fine.” She breaks the silence. “I’ll make this easy for you, Mando.”
The use of the nickname stops his hands. He faces her. “What?”
“Let’s just forget about it,” she says, her eyes darting to the side, her voice wavering. “Pretend it never happened. I’m sorry. I… I shouldn’t have…”
Din’s chest heavies. Grogu is too busy eating to listen in on the conversation, but where he sits doesn’t go unnoticed. He even offers her a piece of fruit that she politely declines. “...Why?” Din asks.
“’Why?’ I…” She sighs, her hand running through her head. “Isn’t this… what you want?”
“When did I say that?”
She blinks in surprise. “You… don’t want that?”
“I…” Now it’s his turn to avert his gaze, even though he knows she can’t see his eyes. He rubs the back of his neck. “Oh boy…” He sounds stressed. “You… don’t regret it?”
“I-I don’t!” She shakes her head. “I th-thought you would regret it. I thought… I was being selfish. That I forced you into it and-and that you didn’t want to and—”
“Hey, hey, slow down.” He lifts a hand. “It’s okay. You weren’t being selfish. If anything, it was me.” He looks at Grogu, knowing it wouldn’t be the first time.
“Oh…” She cracks a smile, relief written in her visage. “S-So… what does that mean? If we’re… both selfish?”
“Well… the kid and I know a thing or two about that.” Grogu looks up with a gleam in his eye. It was selfish for Din to go back for him in the first place. It was selfish to endanger others just to rescue him from Moff Gideon. It was selfish for Grogu to leave Luke to return to him. At some point, it stops being selfish and becomes something else entirely. “So it wasn’t… bad?”
“Bad? Are you kidding me? It was...” She stops herself from sounding too giddy, considering the fact that Grogu is still present. And Din knows that he understands more than he lets on. “It was wonderful, Din.”
He grins. “G...Good…” Now that that’s taken care of: “Pack your things,” he says to her. “We’re going to leave.”
Her smiles drops. “Leave? Why? The tournament isn’t over.”
“I know.” He secures his vambrace. “But I’m not putting you in any more danger.”
“Hey! Wait just a minute!” She almost stands up, but Grogu is planted firmly on her lap. “You got rid of the danger, didn’t you? There’s just me and the Twi’lek now. I’m so close!”
“You were almost killed.” He stands. “You wanna walk around with a target on your back?”
“Oh, like you don’t?”
“That’s different. I��m a Mandalorian, I’m a bounty hunter. I know how to fend for myself.”
She huffs in frustration. “So I’m just supposed to give up now?”
“There’s other beskar in the galaxy. I’ll figure it out.”
Now she stands, carrying Grogu in her arms. “You listen to me, Din… I don’t know your last name—”
“Djarin.”
She blinks. “Really?” How pretty — not now! “You listen to me, Din Djarin!” Grogu giggles. “I didn’t come all the way here, get hit on, felt up, threatened, a blaster on my face, all to just give up right when I’m so close to the finish line!”
Din takes a step back. Felt up? “Wait… when did you get…?” His blood starts to boil.
She waves her hand. “It was Besporos, the trust fund kid. Said he’d give me some beskar if I went on a date, but we all see how that turned out. Anyway, I didn’t go through all of that for you to tell me to forget about it.” She takes a step forward. “I need to win this… for me. Don’t you get that?”
He resigns himself, lowering his head. “Of course I can.”
“Then it’s settled.” Another step forward. “But…” She lifts her hand, cupping the side of his helmet. “I do think it’s sweet that you care.” Din tenses out of instinct, but he breathes out and dares to lean into the touch. How he wishes he could feel it on his skin again… The best he can do is hold her hand, thumb brushing against her wrist. The bed sheet drapes around her makes her look like a work of art, like a statue that only he can admire.
He fantasizes about the curtain of night being drawn and carrying her back, their clothes on the floor leaving no barriers. Din never imagined he could feel so close to another person like that.
Grogu coos, tilting his head and giving him a look. Din knows the kid can’t talk yet, but he says enough with his expressions: what’s happening between you and her?
“Urm.” Din clears his throat loudly, pulling away.
She walks back to the table, setting Grogu down on it so he can continue eating. “I’m going to freshen up.” He nods, watching her walk towards the bathroom door. “The door’ll be unlocked, okay?” She winks, clicking her tongue before she walks in. Din’s throat tightens and he clenches his jaw. Din sinks into the couch and tries to shoo away those thoughts while Grogu eats.
He recalls how he once mused to himself that Grogu would be the death of him. Now he thinks the same thing of her, but for entirely different reasons.
---
Her bath that afternoon is long. She savors it knowing that it’ll be the last time she gets to experience such luxury before leaving Canto Bight. Kriff, she hasn’t even decided where she wants to go after this… It doesn’t have to be Tatooine, that much she knows. What if she stays here? Or maybe goes somewhere else fancy, like Coruscant? A whole galaxy is at her disposal. So, instead of being alone on Tatooine, you wanna be alone somewhere else?
She sinks into the tub.
Of course, her heart knows exactly where she wants to go. Could she do it? Travel the galaxy, hop from one place to the next, not knowing what the next day would bring? Hell, that sounds amazing. And it wouldn’t matter where she went, as long as she had them.
Slow down. Maybe… maybe focus on winning the tournament first.
She finishes her bath and walks to the bedroom to pick her outfit for that night. As she goes through the many dresses that stylist left her, she notices that the hotel staff had put her Tatooine clothes on a hanger, its dull brown colors looking even muddier next to the vibrant ones. Taking it off the rack, she notices that it’s been scrubbed clean of dirt and sweat, even smelling nice.
The corner of her lips curls up. It was fun dressing up like a rich noble the past few days, but something about wearing her normal clothes seems right for tonight.
“Okay,” she says, stepping out of the bedroom. “I’m ready.”
Din looks up, a little surprised that she came out in her regular clothes. The last time he had seen her in those, they were bickering and biting each other’s heads off. Yet, he knows she’s still the girl from last night, the one that pulled him into her arms and accepted him entirely. She’s still just as beautiful. “Then let’s go.”
Walking across the casino is like wading through tar. Hundreds of people watch them, congest the walkways as they stare and whisper. She meets their gazes with a firm look, her hand clutching his wrist. As they near the room of the tournament, they hear arguing from inside.
“Oh boy,” she says. “This could get ugly.”
Inside, Dastiv shouts at his bodyguards while the Twi’lek and the other competitors watch, occasionally joining in. As soon as the casino owner sees the three of them walk in, his face reddens with rage and he points towards them. “You!” he shouts. “I want you out of my casino! Out!”
“Tournament’s not over,” she says, hiding the rising rage in her voice.
“Oh, yes it is.” Dastiv hisses. “I’ve already made the decision.”
“What?” She glares.
“You — or rather, your friend — murdered Bras Luum, another competitor! You are disqualified!”
The crowd around them gasps. “What?! That’s not fair!” she shouts. “He tried to murder me first! And you!” She points at him, her finger right in his face. “You helped him!”
“I’d watch your tone, scum. You’re lucky I’m not calling for your arrest.” Din is ready to step between them before she puts a hand on his arm, stopping him.
“Afraid the New Republic’s gonna investigate into your friend? Yeah, that might not look good.” She seethes with fury. “I don’t want to be here a second longer, but you’ll let me finish this tournament if you know what’s good for you.”
“No can do.” He takes a step back. “I’ve already called it. Your winnings have been added to the final pot. And since there are no more competitors, I shall declare Hadira Vossall the winner of this tournament!” The Twi’lek woman narrows her eyes at Dastiv, not appearing the least bit excited about this development. “She will receive the entire pot and the beskar.”
She pales, feeling her heart break in two. “So it’s decided…”
“Yes.” Dastiv smiles smugly. “Glad you understand.”
Her hand twitches. “Yeah… means I won’t feel bad about doing this.” She takes her fist and swings with all her might, punching him right in the face, the crowd gasping in response while Grogu giggles. “That’s for drugging me, you bastard!” Din sees that her fist is cocked for another cross and he catches her hands, pulling her back.
“That’s enough. He’s not worth it.”
Dastiv holds his cheek, spitting out some blood onto his hand. “My tooth! She broke my tooth!”
Din glares at him. “You’re lucky she didn’t break more. C’mon.”
She wishes she could delight in the sight more, but the heartbreak was too much. Not only did she lose the beskar, but all of her winnings… Everything that she worked for was gone. She bites down on her lip as Din leads her away, holding back the tears. “I’ve had enough of this city,” she tells him as they reach the casino’s exit. “Let’s get out of here.”
Just as the doors slide open, they hear a feminine voice call “wait!” The trio looks back, seeing a young, green Twi’lek girl run up to them. “Miss. I come on behalf of my mistress, Lady Vossall. She would very much like to extend a formal invitation for you and your friends.”
She blinks, exchanging a look of confusion with the Mandalorian. “That’s… generous, I suppose. What for?”
“She did not say. She told me only to make sure you did not leave. If you are interested, please come to the penthouse in one hour.” She tells them how to find it, then she bows and leaves them be.
Din looks to her. “It’s up to you,” he says. “We can leave right now if you want.”
She takes the time to think. Why would Hadira want to see her? Maybe they could negotiate for the beskar so far. If they could get it, then she wouldn’t care about the money loss. It’s worth a shot. “You think it’s a trap?”
“She just won the tournament. I doubt it, but then again… I don’t trust anyone.”
“If it is, then at least we’ll escape it together. What do you think, Grogu?” He coos in affirmation.
---
Hadira Vossall’s penthouse sits on the top floor, overlooking the rest of Canto Bight. The first thing they notice is how warm it is, like a steam bath almost. If Din’s helmet weren’t specialized, it would have fogged up his visor. There are luscious green plants and flowers lining the hallways, alongside works of art and various artifacts. A servant leads them further into a spacious yet quiet room with a grand table in the center and a fountain on the back wall. At the head of the table, Hadira rises from her chair to greet them, stating the girl’s full name.
“That’s me,” she says. “Thank you for inviting us. You have…” she scans around. “A really lovely home.”
“Thank you.” Hadira walks around the table, servants following her. She walks like a queen… “I don’t know what transpired between you and Bras,” she says, folding her hands together. “And frankly, I don’t care.” She stops in front of them, a calm expression on her face. “Allow me to explain something to you. I don’t need to gamble for money. I do it because I love it, because I’m good at it. And I love winning… but you know what I don’t love?” She frowns. “Winning by default.”
She nods. “I… see.”
“I could tell that Dastiv had already made up his mind, but he cannot control what I do in my own residence. So, I ask you.” She once again uses her full name. “Would you kindly indulge in a game of sabacc with me?”
She blinks in surprise. “Wh-what?” Her heart swells in elation. “Really?”
“Indeed. I will gladly give you your earnings. However.” She holds up a hand. “Now that the beskar is in my hands, I ask that you provide something equal in value for the buy-in.”
At that, her face turns pensive. “I… I don’t have anything like that…”
Hadira grins. “Perhaps you don’t. But the Mandalorian does.” She turns to Din. “For five ingots of beskar, I believe his full set of armor serves an equal value.”
“No!” She shakes her head. “I-I can’t ask D– Mando to do that for me. It’s–”
Din says her name. He puts a firm hand on her shoulder and leans in so his voice through the modulator only reaches her ears. “Can you win?”
“I-I don’t know,” she stutters out. “She’s really good and… no, no, I can’t gamble with your armor—”
“Can you win?” he asks again, firmer. She closes her eyes, focusing on his voice, on his hand. “When you woke up this morning, did you think that you could win.”
“...Yes.”
“Is it any different now?”
“It’s your armor, Din.” She presses her temple against his. “I could never lose that.”
“...Then don’t.” He gives her shoulder a squeeze. “Go ahead. Play.”
She opens her eyes and gives him a look of pure determination, her brows fixed, her eyes brimming. A firm nod is all he needs to pull away. She faces Hadira.
“Let’s play.”
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shearlin · 25 days
Text
Word count: 2395
Chapter 6: Wind
First || << Previous || Next >>
A day late but it's here!
This is a silly chapter, a tiny break from having angst in the first section :) I really like it. It inverts the formula of the previous chapters but I think it turned out okay.
A bit of a behind the scene update: I... might have scrapped 5k words of the 9th chapter because I didn't like how it was turning out. I've planned out and locked a new outline for it, but yeah I am really slow to write something new (that's the reason I've prewritten this fic before posting it excluding that last chapter, because 9 weeks is plenty of time, right?) and I hope I will be able to finish it on time, but... yeah :/
Anyway, Wind chapter is here! Enjoy :D
Barely a day has passed and Legend was already fed up. Worst part? He only had himself to blame.
He was justified as far as he was concerned. Not only was Ravio clearly going through his stuff and renting his adventure gear - again - they also only had a half an hour or so to spare to make a detour to his house and allow Legend to swap his gear and for all of them to restock potions and arrows at Ravio’s shop. They were in the middle of pursuit of a group of monsters. Who knew, what would the horde do if they let them get too far ahead or if the chain would be able to go back to his house once they finish the job.
The standard argument he had with Ravio almost every time he returned home after the merchant decided to move in, about whether the rental of his old gear was a good idea or not took him… more than they realised. 
So he kind of… shoved everything in sight into his bags and stormed off.
Well, not everything everything. He had a very good and clear reason to pack every single item he did and to leave those he didn’t behind.
If he could just remember what those reasons were now, that would be great.
If he could just remember what those reasons were now, that would be great.
So here he was. In another Hyrule, a day later, in the middle of the clearing where they made a camp to rest in for a day or two after the hard battle, trying to sort through the haphazardly grabbed items and somehow make his bag manageable again. He swore to every deity he knew the name of, if he would reach for one thing only to take out something completely different that was in its spot one more time- he was going to lose it.
“Need a hand with that, vet?” Four asked, keeping his distance outside of the circle of chaos around the other hero, doing impressively well to hide his amusement at the situation.
Four, among the others, tried to appeal to his reason when he was stuffing six-adventures-worth of items into his pouches. Only the fear of possible retaliation from the man with an entire arsenal in his back pocket stopped the ‘I told you so’s from spilling out.
“Do not touch my stuff,” he growled in response, putting all his seeds with the slingshot and the seed shooter - I never use scent seeds. Why do I still keep them with the rest? - and fishing out yet another shovel from the pile on the left, from between the different rods and canes. He knew he wanted to bring a backup to avoid the awkward situation from a week ago, when they were lacking in the equipment department but by Din this was an overkill.
Maybe they had a point. Maybe talking with Ravio distracted him too much after all…
“Why do you even have this many shovels? And why did you brin-? The question died on smithy’s lips at the murderous gaze Legend sent his way. “I’ll umm… I’ll be over there if you change your mind.”
With that, Four retreated to Sky and Hyrule on the other side of the camp, the three of them watching the whole ordeal from a safe distance.It didn’t mean he was left alone. Oh no. Far from that.
Read the rest on Ao3!
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mxnkeydo · 8 months
Text
so scarlet (it was maroon) ✧ sokeefe
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✧ ship: Sophie x Keefe
✧ what to expect: it all went down went a book went soaring across the classroom but sophie never expects it to end the way it does. acrylic smeared on cheeks, pigment-stained clothes, and a whole keefe sencen later, maybe she never despised him as much as she thought she did.
✧ genre: romance, fluff, humor, sarcasm - enemies to lovers trope, human au, and a love triangle to torment you guys 😈
✧ word count: 848
✧ warnings: BIG MOMENT IN THIS CHAPTER WHERE KEEFE IS HIT WITH THE TRUTH ->
✧ link to masterlist
✧ link to chapter four
✧ link to chapter five
✧ A/N: hello peeps! here's a mini chapter of what happened at dinner. hope this was okay!
***
CHAPTER 4.5
Keefe walked down the staircase behind Sophie, chewing on his bottom lip. He was pretty sure he vaguely remembered Edaline saying Sophie’s father wasn’t exactly fond of having boys over. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to go very well.
As they approached the dining table, he noticed him. A big, strong guy with blonde hair like his own–except it was straight and combed neatly; very different from Keefe’s unruly, curly locks. Keefe figured he’d come straight from work because he was dressed in a suit, his blue tie loose around his neck.
“Don’t worry,” Sophie said, reading his thoughts. “He might look intimidating but he’s a real softie.” She made her way over and hugged his neck. “Hey Dad!”
Her father immediately smiled at her. He squeezed her back, enveloping her in a bear hug. “Hey kiddo, how’s my girl?”
“Great.” She turned and gestured to me. “Dad, this is my art tutor. His name’s Keefe Sencen.��
He looked at me up and down. “Sencen? Are you Cassius’s kid?”
I gulped. “Yes sir.”
Sophie’s parents looked at each other, an unspoken agreement made. Clearing his throat, he said, “Call me Grady. Welcome, Keefe, have a seat.” I slid into the chair next to Sophie’s, keeping my eyes down on the white plate. 
“Let’s say Grace,” Edaline said. She reached for her husband's hand, taking Sophie’s across the table. Grady took my hand with his rough one. And Sophie slid her hand into mine under the table, her gaze making my heart pick up speed as she smiled, no doubt remembering that moment at Walmart. I let out a shaky breath as I closed my eyes.
“Dear Lord, thank you for the food on our table, and blessed the hands that prepared it. And let us welcome our guest, Keefe.” With a collective ‘Amen’, they opened their eyes and dug in. 
“So, Keefe,” Grady started as he swallowed a chunk of mashed potatoes. “How did you end up as my daughter’s tutor?”
“Oh, Sophie–”
“Our teacher assigned it to him,” Sophie cut in, shooting Keefe a death glare from the corner of her eye. Grady looked to him for confirmation.
“Yep. That’s what happened.” Was all Keefe added. Grady narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but Edaline changed the subject fast; by the meaningful expression on her face, Sophie must’ve told her already.
“So! How’s dinner, Keefe?”
Keefe shoveled a fork full of spaghetti into his mouth, nodding enthusiastically.  “It’s great, Edaline. Thanks for the invite.”
“Not a problem, honey. Sophie’s friends are always welcome at the table.” She emphasized the word ‘friends’, almost making Sophie choke on her food with laughter.
The rest of dinner was silent except for the sound of their utensils clinking and their chewing. Afterward, Keefe was just getting ready to leave when Grady pulled him aside.
“Okay, kid. Here’s the deal: you date my daughter–”
“It’s– it’s not like that, sir,” Keefe stuttered.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, I can see the way you look at her. It’s obvious. If you two start dating, you better not break her heart or you won’t live to see another day.”
Keefe nodded stiffly.
“And,” Grady continued. “No kissing, no holding hands, and–”
“Keefe!” Sophie called. “C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”
“Got it, sir,” Keefe mumbled, zooming out of the room as fast as he could. The embarrassment was too much to bear. During the car ride home, he pretended to be sleeping so he’d be left alone to his own thoughts.
Grady said it was obvious. Was it really? Did he really look at Sophie that way, or was her dad overreacting? Could people see it at school too, when he joked around with her in art class?
But this wasn’t about whether other people could see it. It was about whether he had a…a crush on Sophie or not.
Did he? It had only been a week or so since they met. Could he have developed feelings for her already? He figured anyone would after spending time with her. How could they not? She had that gorgeous smile, those pretty eyes. Who said brown eyes weren’t to die for? Brown was the color of honey, of amber and onyx. They were just as beautiful as any other.
Don’t even get him started on her laugh, the one that would echo out into the sky and lift his lips up into a smile against his will. It was like magic, a magic he hated and loved at the same time. He hated the power she held over him without knowing it. He hated the way she’d always have the upper hand and smirk at him when she did, leaving him blushing like an idiot.
But most of all, Keefe hated the fact that his heart would race every time she looked his way.
It was time he faced it. He had a crush. A tiny crush, but a crush nevertheless.
“Keefe, it’s your stop.” Sophie shook his shoulder gently, peering at him through her lashes. Keefe rubbed his eyes.
“Thanks,” he muttered, getting out of the car and scurrying to the door.
“See you Monday?” 
Keefe felt his lips turning up. Damn you Foster, and that sweet voice of yours. 
“Yeah. See you on Monday, Foster.”
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Note
thomas tmr x reader
two bestfriends pinning over eachother
<3
Hi! Thanks for requesting, it really means a lot! <3
here it is!
Nothing (Everything)
Thomas Tmr x reader
summary: A day spent with Thomas is a day well spent
Warnings: Afab!reader, semi nude?? like swimming, blood (a little)
1.4k
masterlist
Thomas is my best friend.
This isn’t the first time you’ve thought it, but it’s definitely the first you’ve thought it to prove that he can’t be anything more. 
Thomas is in fact, your best friend. He’s the one you find yourself gravitating towards, there’s just a certain magnetism about him that makes him completely comfortable to be around. He’s whip smart and loyal almost to a fault, something that you admire. 
You know him, and he knows you the same way. He knows your favorite star in the sky, that you absolutely hate sitting still, and that you, unlike all the other shanks in the Glade, will take a break when you’re down. In turn, you know that he’s content with sitting together atop the watchtower, looking out on the glade, and that when he’s tired, the only thing that brightens his face is you - or a bucket of ice water, but that’s hard to come by, nowadays.
Sometimes, you’ll spend nights in the meadow, shoulder to shoulder, sometimes laying on his chest, because that’s what friends do. 
Friends.
So what if you and Minho have a bet going that Thomas is in love with you.
(“Tell you what, Minho.”
“What, sweetheart?” Minho, another one of your close friends, crosses his arms and gives you a look that says, I can’t wait to hear this.
“If Thomas confesses his love to me in the next two months, I’ll give you my dessert for a week.”
“No, Tommy wouldn’t do that.”
“Fine. A kiss. But don’t expect me to tell you if you’re not there. I need me my Frypan desserts!”)
Thomas is strictly your best friend, and he’s never seen you other than that. 
He’s my best friend.
It’s the runners’ off day, so Thomas is sort of drifting around the glade, doing odd jobs for you in the medjacks building. He’s been acting a little weird, almost saying something and then pausing, turning away a little too quickly.
Quiet, which isn’t something you normally get from Thomas, especially on days when it’s just the two of you hanging out. 
His bronze eyes flick away from you as you turn around to tell him that you’re finally done organizing the tools for Clint, and that now you two can go out into the glade.
“Honestly, Thomas, I don’t see why you don’t just go bother Newt. He’s your friend, too.”
Thomas gives you that adorable puppy face. 
“Maybe I like you better than Newt.”
“That’s reasonable, I am better.”
He laughs at that, a little harder than you would’ve thought your stupid joke would have merited. You grin.
His laugh is the best.
You could probably listen to it on repeat for a week and not get tired of his laugh. 
“C’mon, Tommy. Let’s get some vitamin d.”
He follows you out into the sunny Glade. Newt waves at you from the gardens, and, shielding your eyes, you wave back. Deciding to go see what he’s up to, you and Thomas jog over to the gardens, where Newt tosses you a shovel. You miss it, and i smacks thomas right in the face.
***
“Y/n, I’m fine, really.” Thomas pushes against your grip, trying to sit up. You push him right back down onto the cot, still patching up the bloody stripe the shovel cut on his cheekbone. 
“Thomas, you took a shovel to the face. You’re fine when I say you’re fine.”
He smiles that perfect smile, then grimaces, clenching his jaw. You pause, momentarily distracted by his chiseled jaw and cheekbones, before stringing up a needle.
“I’m going to stitch it, then you’ll be done, okay?” 
Thomas rolls his eyes, but complies, only flinching slightly as you begin to suture the wound.
Poor Newt, who was so guilty for cutting Thomas with a rogue shovel that he followed the two of you here, Thomas shaking with laughter, and you biting your lip to keep your face straight. You’d had to kick him out because of his fussing over Thomas.
You tie off the stitch and admire your handiwork, meeting Thomas’s eyes. He raises his eyebrows and you sigh, letting him sit up.
“Thanks, Y/n. Really.”
“Couldn’t have you running around with that gash on your face, could I? That’s what friend are for.”
Is your mind playing tricks on you, or do you see a flicker of disappointment on Thomas’s face?
He’s my best friend.
“Except Newt,” He says, after a beat of strangely awkward silence. “The only thing he’s good for his hitting you in the face with a shovel.”
You snort.
“Yep, Newts my right hand man solely because he beats the sexist greenies with his shovels.”
“Hey, those things could be lethal.”
***
It’s a hot day, so you’ve finally got a reason to put the pool to work. 
It’s not actually a pool, but a blocked off part of the stream at the edge of the glade, more like a water hole, but It’s a great cool off for the days when the suns beating down on you. Because you and Thomas technically have a free day today, You and him go and change into swim clothes- you into shorts and one of your sports bras, him into his athletic shorts. 
He strips his shirt off and jumps in from the ledge off of a bank. 
The water hole is half open to the sun, and half shrouded by trees. A couple years back, someone decided to put up a rope on one of the lower hanging trees to be able to swing in. Newt, ever the cautious one, led a seminar on how to swing into the water hole without breaking your neck, to which about none of the boys listened to, competing between each other who could get the highest jump, or the most flips.
You swing in off the rope, vaulting over the water and landing with a splash in the cool water. You dunk your head so your hair falls back behind your back. You glance around, looking for Thomas, thinking he might have climbed out to swing in the rope. 
A soft wave of movement around your feet has you looking down, just in time to be hoisted into the air by the boy you’d been looking for. You yelp and squirm in his grasp, laughing loudly  before being tossed in the air and landing with another splash.
When you resurface, Thomas is crouched so that you can only see his shoulders, lazily carding his hands through the water. You’re behind him, and he doesn’t bother to turn, so you get a great view of his spectacular back and arm muscles.
“Whose idea was the water hole?” He asks, finally turning to you. God, his chest and shoulders are even better to look at than his back. “I’m thinking Minho, but something tells me Gally has a fun side hidden behind that grouchy façade.”
You giggle. 
“You did not just say grouchy.”
“so what if I did?” he crosses his arms. “Whatcha gonna do about it, princess?”
He’s called you princess before, but this time feels different. Today feels different.
“Nothing, It’s just funny.”
You smile, but he doesn’t say anything, just staring at you.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Something stirs in your stomach, a fluttery feeling, not something you’ve felt before. Thomas is still staring at you. Any other guy, even Newt or Alby, or even Minho, would make you uncomfortable, staring at you this long. But Thomas… he makes you feel seen.
He’s my best friend, you remind yourself.
You walk towards him, poking him in the side. He scoots away.
“What, Tommy? And don’t say nothing, because we both know that that’s a lie.” Thomas finally breaks his stare and looks past you, contemplating. 
God, he’s gorgeous.
He’s my best friend.
“Thomas?”
He meets your eyes.
“Nothing.” His voice is strained. 
Your heart sinks.
 “Nothing, except that every time I look at you my head goes fuzzy. Nothing, except lately, all you’ve done is drive me absolutely insane. Nothing, except that I shucking convinced you that cuddling annd sharing clothes was normal best friend behavior, and that I almost quit the runners because I wanted to spend more time with you, and I have to tell you because if I don’t I swear it’ll kill me.”
… and fills with helium and you’re soaring in he clouds.
And you’re on him and you’re kissing him. His lips are soft and perfect and surprised at first, but they respond to yours, fervently kissing you back.
He breaks from you, eyes wide.
“Y/n.”
You kiss him again.
Because he’s your best friend.
Because he’s so much more.
bonus:
“Yeah! Woohoo!”
Minho’s cheers echo through the glade.
“Oh, Shuck off, Mean hoe!” you scream back, still wrapped in Thomas’s arms.
“I win, Bitch!”
Minho sticks his tongue out, on his merry way to go get your sweets from Fry.
39 notes · View notes
carousellights · 1 year
Text
The Boy With The Headset | Part 4
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Synopsis: The world was always so loud. Moving so fast without any care for the people who might get left behind.
All the commotion of college seems to put Y/n’s life on autopilot. Her only safe haven being the almost absolute quiet of her dorm room.
Jisung can’t seem to handle the constant sounds of life preferring to drown himself in music instead.
The boy with the headphones who sits next to Y/n seems to blend their noises into a perfect melody.
Word count: 3.1K
Pairing: music major! han x student! reader
Genre: friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn, mutual pining
Masterlist
Previous / Next
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Y/n sits at a small wishing well on the campus waiting. She looks over at the snacks and drinks that Jisung got her and smiles to herself. Maybe they could hang out here once it starts getting warmer again. Does Jisung like the cold weather? Would he be willing to sit out here and enjoy the trees as their branches crack in the wind? Picking herself up she continues to her dorm. Maybe she’ll ask him to study here one day. Yet again who is Y/n kidding, the work wouldn’t have any of her attention. The small flakes of snow dusting his hair and eyelashes would have all her attention. She could barely even pay attention to what Jisung was saying earlier with his breath manifesting in the air.
As the wind slowly becomes harsher Y/n speeds up her steps to get into her building. While she walks inside the warm air envelops her. Getting on the elevator she presses her floor. Pulling out her phone she opens the messages for Jisung. Just as she starts to type out a message the elevator dings. Setting down her things at the door she takes the things Jisung gave her and walks to her room. Looking down at her phone again she begins typing
Y/n: I made it home! make sure to dress warmly it started snowing slightly as I was walking
-
Looking at his phone his face breaks into a smile. He sets it down not wanting to reply too fast. While Jisung spins in his chair Chan sighs reaching over and stopping the chair. “Jisung just respond to her so we can record your track.” Jisung suddenly turns to face him, “how did you know that she texted me?” Chan gives Jisung the side eye and Jisung grabs his phone.
Jisung: I’m glad you made it home. I’ll make sure to take your advice but the same goes for you too yeah?
Giggling Jisung sets his phone down and walks into the recording area. “Let’s do this so Jisung can set up his date.” Jisung adjusts the mic glaring at the boys.
After finishing Jisung steps outside. The snow is falling a little harder and slightly sticking to the ground. Pulling out his phone he lets Y/n know that he’s done with the studio. Walking back to the dorms he keeps glancing at his phone every few steps.
Stepping into the dorm he sits at the dining table. Looking down at the phone again Y/n still hasn’t responded. Biting his lip he types out a second message hoping she’ll reply.
Jisung: I just made it home :p
He sets down his phone and stares at it hoping that she’ll see his message. After a few minutes, he hears a click behind him followed by the sound of bags rubbing together. “Hi, chan and bin what did you guys pick up?” He still stares at the phone wanting any indication of Y/n reading his message. “We got some stuff from the diner around the corner.” They all sit down and spread the food around. Chan turns to Jisung and gives Changbin a look. “Why are you guys doing that.” Jisung raises his head and starts to eat his food without waiting for the other two boys to respond.
As Jisung begins shoveling another portion of hash browns into his mouth suddenly his phone buzzes on the table. Leaning forward his screen is illuminated by her name. Saying a quick excuse he answers the phone and mumbles, “hi Y/n” quickly closing his mouth and chewing quickly trying to finish his bite. “Oh I’m sorry were you eating?” While closing his door he says “No I wasn’t eating.” Pausing for a second he speaks again, “that was a lie, I was eating but it’s ok.”
“Wow, Jisung you’re a liar!” Jisung panicked and sits down frantically trying to explain himself. Y/n laughs while saying, “I’m joking Jisung. I just wanted to know when you wanted to study and where?” Spinning in his chair Jisung takes in a deep breath “do you have any roommates?” Jisung mumbles, “I live with chan and changbin so if you don’t have any then it might be better at your place.”
Y/n’s voice comes over the phone almost immediately after Jisung finishes “no I don’t live with anyone so we can do it here.” There’s a pause for a few seconds before Y/n decides to break the silence, “so when did you want to come over?” Jisung’s head snaps up like he had forgotten that she was on the phone. “I can come by after our class is done. As long as you don’t need to clean up before then”
-
Y/n shifts in her seat, “as if. I’m a very clean person you know.” As Jisung’s laugh comes across the phone he replies “yeah I’m sure you are.” As they go back and forth about how clean or not clean Y/n’s house is they end the call with short goodbyes.
As soon as the small sound of the call ending reaches Y/n’s ears she takes a look around her. The numerous amounts of empty water bottles flood her site. Suddenly she becomes aware of every small tear of paper on the floor, every dish that was sitting in the sink, maybe Jisung was right. She grabs her phone and turns on her music me taking preparing herself.
Y/n grabs her broom and duster and cleans up the living room. Ensuring that all the mess from the week was gone. She moves into her room she grabs the vacuum cleaner. After finishing the floor she wipes down all her furniture to get rid of the dust that had built up. Going back to the main area she heads to the kitchen. Letting out a sigh she starts on the dishes until they’re all done. Looking over at her phone she lays down on the sofa and turns up her music to be even louder than it was.
The sound of buzzing on the bales wakes Y/n up. Glancing over and picking up her phone it reads 10:00 AM. Looking around herself she sees that she fell asleep on the sofa; getting up and rubbing her aching mussels she gets up and starts getting ready for the day. When did she fall asleep?
Y/n grabs some headphones and heads outside. The cold weather bites at her skin. She crosses her arms and pushes her jacket closer to her body. Looking down she starts to pick up the pace of her steps to get to her building faster.
Walking into the building she checks the time, 10:55 AM. As the warmth of the corridor sinks in she continues on her way to her class. Opening the door the room is fuller than normal. Was there a presentation today? She makes her way to her seat and pulls out her notes. As the professor stands he announces, “Today we have a pop quiz you have 15 to look over your notes.” No way.
Stepping out of the class Y/n frantically dials Jisung. The phone rings even after the door closes behind her; after a little while it goes to voicemail. Calling again it takes five rings before he answers, “Y/n why are you calling so early? Did you miss me that much?” She could practically hear the smirk on his face. Rolling her eyes she replies, “the professor just said there’s a pop quiz get over here fast.” Jisung groans and the bed creaks as he shifts, “you’re funny. You can just say you wanted to hear my voice I don’t mind.”
Y/n sighs for once she’s glad Jisung can’t see her. There’s no doubt in her mind he would point out how flustered she is. “I’m not joking Jisung get over here. Or fail.” Jisung’s voice turns less groggy as he talks this time, “when does the test start?” Holding back a laugh she responds “in about 12 minutes” The phone goes dead and Y/n goes back to her seat.
Y/n takes out her notes but her mind seems to drift to Jisung. How is he going to make it in time? The boy's dorms are about a seven-minute walk away from the building. Y/n starts to fidget worried that he won’t make it. That only gives Jisung five minutes to get ready. Pulling out her computer she sees the time 11:13 AM. Since when did time pass so fast? Jisung only had two minutes to walk into the class before the test starts. Taking her phone she sends him a text.
Y/n: Jisung hurry you’re gonna be late!
While Y/n is putting away her phone the professor starts giving instructions on how the quiz works. It was a paper quiz. A small feeling of relief washed over Y/n; at least Jisung won’t have to deal with computer issues. As the test starts getting passed out a loud creak draws Y/n’s attention. He’s here. Jisung made it!
As Jisung walks to his seat Y/n feels at peace. She won’t have to blame herself for Jisung missing the quiz. While he sits down he shoots a small smile at her. The papers in front of them were almost long forgotten in her mind. All the information she tried to look at was suddenly replaced with questions about how he managed to get here on time.
After the professor announced the time was up and everyone turned in the quiz Y/n pulled out her computer again and Jisung followed. While logging in she hears a loud slam of the computer next to her. Turning to face him his face flushes before he explains, “my computer is dead.” While giving him a questioning look Y/n pulls out her charger and hands it to him. “No that won’t work on my computer”
Before Y/n could question him she notices that Jisung’s hair is different. Instead of being styled and smoothed out it’s big and looks soft. “I really like your hair Jisung,” she says while still looking at his hair. Jisung puts his hands in his hair and pushes it down, “I didn’t have time to style it ok? Don’t make fun of me.” Y/n’s eyes widen and she explains that she does like it, “it looks great in fact I like this better than when it’s all flat like normal.” Jisung puts his hands down and gives her a sid-eye.
After Y/n wrote down the due dates for assignments Jisung spoke up again, “I’m blaming you for the pop quiz” while packing her bag she laughs out a response “how is it my fault that there was a pop quiz?” Jisung stands up and holds his computer, “you spoke it into existence! My schedule was perfect until you decided to talk about a pop quiz” Y/n rolls her eyes and pokes at his shoulder, “you should be thankful that I even told you we had a pop quiz.” Jisung fights back a smile.
As they start walking towards the exit Jisung stops at the door before opening it, “I need to stop by my dorm before I head to yours so I can clean up.” Y/n frowns as they step outside, “please don’t style your hair!” Jisung starts parting from Y/n while he starts walking away he calls out to her again “I’m gonna style my hair so get used to it” Y/n frowns and watches as he walks off until she can’t anymore
-
Entering the apartment Jisung goes straight to the bathroom and puts on deodorant and a heavy amount of cologne. Looking at his hair in the mirror he smiles and decides to just brush it out again. While walking out of the bathroom Chan stares at him, “why did you spray the whole bottle of cologne on yourself?” Jisung sits down on the sofa and looks at the other two boys.
After sighing Jisung starts to complain, “you guys embarrassed me and you guys weren’t even there.” Changbin pauses the tv and finally turns to Jisung “what did we do?” Jisung grabs his computer and sets it down on the coffee table opening it up. The screen opens to Y/n’s social media. “You guys thought it would be smart to look for her accounts last night.” Chan reaches over and scrolls down her page as changbin chimes in, “you agreed to it. You wanted to find out if she had a boyfriend and this was my way to find out.” Chan shows Jisung a post from February
Y/n: Happy Valentine’s Day to myself
Jisung feels a smile growing on his face. Before he gets carried away he closes the tab and grabs his computer standing up to leave, “you guys are so nosy.” As Jisung opens the door and leaves chan turns to changbin and says, “do you remember her username?” Changbin turns back on the tv and says, “of course I do.”
While standing at the base of the apartment Jisung opened his messages and checked which apartment is Y/n’s. As he walks to the door he checks a few more times before finally knocking. While waiting he finds himself checking the number over and over again. “Hey sorry I was putting some stuff away” he nods and walks in the door.
Jisung follows Y/n as she walks to the sofa. As they sit Jisung steals glances at her and thinks of what to say. Have they been silent too long that it’s weird to talk now? “I’m glad you didn’t style your hair.” Looking to the side Y/n is already looking at him a small smile on her face. “Sorry, this is so awkward.” She laughs and leans over to Jisung; he does the same.
As the laughter dies down Jisung looks over at the tv and says, “wanna put something on before we study?” Y/n nods and turns on the tv letting Jisung pick something. As the opening credits play Jisung looks over to find Y/n grabbing some snacks.
About halfway through the movie, Jisung finds himself leaning over with his head resting near Y/n. He feels a weight on his hair, and without moving too much he glances up and notices that it’s her hand in his hair. Occasionally her hand bumps against his headphones and switches to the front of his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. He hears a faint sound of beeping but brushes it off.
As the movie ends Y/n shows Jisung to her room and tells him to set up there while she cleans up. Jisung hears the beep again and pulls out his phone. Going to the app connected to his headphones he sees that they’re almost dead. He looks in his small bag and pulls out his computer looking for a charger. Damn it. The headphones beep one last time before they fill with noise.
To Jisung’s surprise all that floods in is Y/n’s soft footsteps outside and minimal mumbling from outside the apartment. A louder noise draws his attention; the blink of the door opening and closing draws all his attention. Y/n sits down with a small puff and pulls out her notebooks. The papers shift and his eyes follow the noise. “Are you ok?” Y/n tilts her head and waits for him to respond.
Jisung’s eyes widen. Her voice is so sweet. It demands his attention and he can't seem to put his mind somewhere else. He sits and waits for her to speak again, “are you sick?” There it is! He leans scoots closer and waits again, “Jisung?” His name has never sounded so sweet. With every word, she spoke it felt like sugar soaked into him. He pulled down his headphones to hear her better and finally gathered the courage to speak, “It’s so quiet here” Y/n’s eyes widen as Jisung sets the headphones on the desk.“oh I normally have music but you know I don’t know what you like” Jisung holds his breath as she’s speaks not wanting to muffle her voice at all. He speaks again when he’s sure she’s finished “how’d you get the ac quiet?” Y/n laughs a little at the sudden change of topic, “the extra noise drove me insane so I had a friend in the engineering program fix it.” Jisung nods his head and changes the topic again, “we should study now.” Y/n nods and turns on some quiet music to fill the silence. Jisung turns to his computer and focuses on Y/n’s faint scribbles to calm him.
“Are you hungry?” Her voice breaks through his focus. Jisung glances at the time 7:30 PM. When did it get so late? Jisung nods and pulls out his phone again before speaking, “I’ll order since you offered your place. Why can of food do you like?” After some protest from her, she finally caved and tells Jisung what good to get her.
They both find their way to the living room as they wait for the food. The comfortable silence gets interrupted as Y/n’s phone goes off.
Hyune
Y/n picks up the phone and says excuses herself then greets the guy. “You’re at the art studio right?” She pauses while the boy responds. “You’re all the way on the opposite side of the campus from the dorms” she laughs then continues, “just head to the library then keep going straight and you should reach the dorms” they start to say their goodbyes and she heads back to sit down with Jisung.
As the food arrives Jisung passes it out. After a few minutes, he decides to ask, “so was that your boyfriend?” Y/n laughs and looks at Jisung, “no he’s my friend. He just transferred her so he still gets lost.” As she explains Jisung feels a weight lift off his shoulders. “You don’t have to explain everything I was just curious.” Jisung continues eating his food as Y/n responds, “I know I just want to let you know.” He feels his face heat up and eats a bit faster.
As they finish their food Jisung looks at the time 9:30 PM. “I should probably head back to my dorm. Thank you for letting me study here.” They stand at the door and Y/n laughs as she says, “I should be thanking you. I wouldn’t have gotten any work down without you.” Jisung leans down a little before saying “let’s do this again sometime then?” As he gets to the campus again he calls Chan and Changbin.
“Guys my headset died while I was over there and I think the universe just blessed me.” He walks faster as the boys ask about what happened.
Taglist 🏷️ @autumn-lv @burningchaosdeer @hipsdofangirl @shakalakaboomboo (send an ask to be added/removed)
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ladygoofball · 27 days
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Adults need to stay out of self indulgent fan spaces. Is this reactionary content for adults? Or do we want them to keep playing the soundtrack of our pains and misery for clicks and laughs.
This is Nobody’s problem Consider it a gesture of good PR when it smacks you in the face.
It should not have to be my problem right now. I am tired.
But riddle me this:
If you saw thought that Keith Harring would have put his entire fucking ass on the line to make sure Aaron Bushnell’s name did not get forgotten?
You’re not alone. I am always being told I am too inexperienced. I need to shovel someone else’s mess for no money. My cats are dying and I don’t have time.
Consider this a healing word:
I have people who are in film school right now? Who can’t fathom a world where the people in front of them can’t fucking conceptualize having the wind knocked out of you with just the power of their words. But a Director comes to fans saying they are tired. The industry is collapsing. I’ll make a whole god damned new one do not TEMPT me with magnum opus status. They do not understand the definition of the word.
That…can’t be right? Is it? You’re all letting the industry standard of VIDEO GAMES whore out your art? Your craft?
For elon fucking MUSK!!
I have had to endure THAT? For weeks. In my self indulgent spaces. Fan run shit and Corporate shit need to be separated. Grooming on the internet moves too quickly. We need to stop allowing grown ass adults to fall into grooming algorithms because Elon FUCKING Musk bought them all. The way that this video game is communicating to us sonatically without REST?!! like we can’t get the POINT?!
It’s always too late.
I have been afraid of going near a good idea for too long but my ideas? KEEP GETTING FLIRTED WITH IN CHAT ROOMS. But everyone is too tired to take my words anywhere.
Nobody gives a damn now BITCH.
Over seven excruciating fucking years i’ve had my ideas flirted with and gone nowhere. That is how groomers speak on the internet now. They never wanted me to know. I can’t say who. I was in film school. They told me I was not smart enough with my degree to redefine the word comic book. I keep having my ideas flirted with and having nothing done about it around VALENTINE’s DAy which was actually supposed to be my birthday. I was born on the 10th of February though.
I cannot put my family’s names out there in a military regime. My money? Is being used to kill kids. Already.
Algorithms are smarter than me? No, i tell THEM how THEY work. With my words.
But NOBODY cares
Tumblr was the first fucking space I had where groomers would make me fucking react to them and keep me on the line for suicide watch. You don’t think I know what crazy sounds like? When your psyche is fractured?
When they want you to have read books you can’t understand out loud and laugh in your face when you try? You need to plug in to the internet
That can’t be your only media diet. It can’t be! I have to change that.
Do you think you are going crazy right now?
That is. An algorithm at work. Bought and paid for, cheap, commercial bullshit. I promise a good idea can sound just as good on a dead platform as it can on a groomers fucking paradise. They won’t publish Jeffery Epstein list.
Nobody will.
Maybe that’s a good thing? Maybe that is intentional. I cannot fucking believe that I have to debase myself using TUMBLR to act like a fan in order for people to start getting more literary with demanding combat training and rest from your video games. I need oaths sworn on camera that I can take that team to combat training and get their fucking winds sailing. No one else seems to want to do it anymore, and I really can’t afford to wait another minute. My cats are dying i’m in tracy chapmans fast car. My cat yowls whenever I get activated now, I can’t stop hearing the day care that I worked for but I was told I was not qualified to work in. I need a FUCKIng BREAK from creating for god damned NOBODY.
I have been telling Elliot for 7 years. That it will be okay. I don’t have hopes left, I’m going to lose them because I don’t have a job.
I am tracy chapmans fast car.
I have a list of video games that you would love, if your self indulgent spaces are getting too full of Marketing getting cheap reactions out of someone for LAUGHS. They think they can take screenshots of my words to pass along and make themselves feel better without sharing?
Who the hell do you think I am? I invented overthinking on the internet motherfucker.
They think you forgot the definition of the word. They did that to you on purpose.
Please tell me you are alright. Because this word doesn’t sound right in your head it’s concerning it’s alarming. It’s going faster than I can type.
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gnappart · 2 years
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Since I still haven’t be able to finish the new age of the bkdk Persephone&Hades AU (stuck in a cycle of have energy/no time or viceversa çvç), here a little fic that I wrote weeks ago at 2AM (I have a brilliant sleep schedule, thank you).
ANOTHER KIND OF SHOVEL TALK
Izuku got his quirk a week after his fourth birthday. He was watching TV with Katsuki when he sneezed. The little boy covered nose and mouth – like his parents taught him – and suddenly he was holding a fireball.
“Deku!”
“Kacchan!”
“You’ve got your quirk!”
“I’ve got my quirk!”
Jumping up and down on the sofa, they celebrated.
-
Katsuki’s fifth birthday came around and he still had to manifest his quirk. He was impatient, but his parents explained to him that quirks may take time to show themselves. So, Katsuki convinced himself that his quirk was taking its time because it was the most powerful one ever and he had to properly train his body to contain it.
He would look at Izuku’s pretty fireballs – he was getting better at making and controlling them – and thought that it would’ve been nice if he had a fire related quirk too, maybe explosions. It would’ve been awesome. Katsuki kept on dreaming and hoping.
-
However, as his sixth birthday was approaching, the other kids started turning sceptical and talked among them.
“Did you hear? Kacchan still hasn’t got his quirk.”
“That’s strange, right?”
“My mom said he’s probably it.”
“Ah, I know, quirkless.”
Quirkless. No, it couldn’t be. Those were lies of stupid extras who understood nothing!
“Soon. Soon I’ll get my quirk and I’ll become a hero with Deku, and I’ll show them!”
-
He turned seven, then eight, and still nothing. His classmates and “friends” wouldn’t try to hide their gazes and comments anymore. Some even tried to “put him in his place” but Katsuki punched back until they ran away.
When Deku found out, he had the strangest expression ever, so dark… Then he bursted out crying. Silly nerd.
Izuku clung to his friend’s arm all the way to the infirmary. Since the nurse wasn’t there, Katsuki had to do with Izuku’s clumsy help. Between sniffs and applying band-aids, Izuku kept repeating how amazing Katsuki had been to win against a whole group. Normally, the blond boy would’ve preened under the compliments. However, during the last year they started grating on him: Deku was lying to make him feel better. But he didn’t, he felt worse. That was the day the presence of Izuku started feeling sour.
-
Things repeated themselves until Katsuki couldn’t take it anymore; there’s so much the body of an eight years old can repress.
“Kacchan’s amazing, Kacchan’s amazing” he mocked, “Stop it! I know you’re lying! You just think I’m a useless quirkless! I can see your eyes… you think I’m pathetic, just like everyone else!” his voice raised until he was shouting, but he didn’t notice until he found himself panting.
Clenching his fists, he watched Izuku defiantly, challenging him to try to deny his words.
He was met with watering eyes and he felt his heart split: half of him was heartbroken for hurting his only friend, the other half was irked to no end.
“... Is this what you think, Kacchan?”
“Are you deaf, Deku?!”
Izuku flinched: Katsuki had never spoken the nickname with such venom. The blond boy scoffed.
“Right, that’s wrong. Because I am the deku, am I not?!”
Wet trails glinted on his heated cheeks. He was so angry, and so sad, so lost…
Tiny, a bit chubby arms enveloped his shoulders, hugging tight. Katsuku whined and tried to break free but just halfheartedly, as the more he wiggled the more his protests turned into hiccups and, soon after, full sobs. His hands found Izuku’s T-shirt and gripped hard.
“You’ve always been amazing, and just because you don’t have a quirk, you’re not less amazing. For me, Kacchan is and always will be the best, my number one Hero.”
It was like someone slapped his brain. Did he hear that right?
Without loosening his grip, Katsuki distanced himself enough to see Izuku’s face. They were both a horrible mess of tears and snot.
“... Not All Might?”
His friend quickly shook his head, so energetically that his green curls bounced comically.
“I like All Might, a lot! But I like Kacchan better! And, and! A quirk is just a tool! Like… a shovel!”
A chuckle escaped Katsuki’s lips.
“A shovel?”
“Yeah! And it may be useful, or difficult to control, or just pretty. But even without a shovel, you still have your hands!” and as he said the last words, Izuku took Katsuki’s hands in his, holding them like they were the most precious things in the world.
“Will it be more difficult to dig? Of course. Still, you can do it and it will be an amazing hole nonetheless!”
The shovel analogy was getting a bit out of hand, Katsuki thought, but he understood what his friend meant to convey.
His precious, kind friend, who still cried like a baby when he got hurt so that Katsuki would coddle him (in his own gremlin way) or that would go absolutely feral whenever someone even just thought of disrespecting his best friend.
Izuku, who despite receiving the cold shoulder and cutting words once too many, still looked at Katsuki like he hung the moon. And how could the blond boy not have his self-esteem back with those eyes watching him?
“Let’s be heroes, Deku.”
“Yeah!”
His arms were already open, ready to receive the hug Izuku charged with at him despite their closeness.
“And if you need a shovel, just say the word: I’ll be your shovel!”
“Enough with the shovels!”
And Katsuki hugged his friend tighter, so as to not make him see the redness creeping on his cheeks and ears.
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pastelwitchling · 2 years
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Chapter 3 of my malex au Carry You teaser.
***
               Alex checked his phone. Put it away. Checked it again. Had some lunch, trying not to think about his phone as he chewed, then checked anyway.
               “Where are you?” he murmured.
               “I’m right here,” Kyle said, snapping his fingers in front of Alex’s face. “Where’ve you been?”
               Alex swatted his hand away, trying and failing to be annoyed. Where was Michael?
               Kyle watched him, thoughtlessly shoveling his mashed potatoes. “Guerin still ghosting you?”
               “He wouldn’t ghost me,” Alex’s instinctive reply came, even as he kept his eyes on his texts with Michael. He was a little embarrassed to look at them now, but he’d sent Michael four messages, several minutes apart, that had gone unanswered. That had been yesterday, and Alex had regretted each one more than the last.
               He didn’t want to seem clingy, and the absolute last thing he wanted to do was bother Michael, especially if he was having a tough time. Alex thought about the last time he’d sat with him, in front of his airstream. He’d only gone to check on him because he’d been worried about him being sick. He’d never been allowed to check before. Had he just annoyed him? Had he burdened him by staying?
               Then a quiet, ugly voice whispered, Maybe he’d purposely stayed home because he didn’t want another date with you at all.
               Alex shook that thought immediately from his head. Michael had told him he hadn’t ditched. He’d clearly just had a lot on his mind.
               Kyle, on the other hand, was looking at Alex like he could hear what he was thinking and was trying to figure out how to break some seriously bad news.
               He was just messing with you. I’ll kill him for it, but I need to know you’ll be okay first.
               “I don’t want it to be over yet,” Alex defended, confessed. He looked down at his phone, his cheeks burning, his eyes starting to sting. Michael wouldn’t just ghost him. He must have a reason. Besides, Alex hadn’t had enough yet. He wanted him a little longer, just a little longer. If Michael got sick of him later, he’d . . . he’d deal with it. He just wanted a few more memories.
               Kyle was looking over at Isobel and Max’s table, where Michael was not, and tapped a finger on his tray. He, like Alex, must’ve noticed how unwilling Isobel had been to talk about Michael at all in the last few days.
               “I really don’t think it’s any of my business,” she would say, and if her staying out of other people’s relationships wasn’t enough of a bad sign, the fact that she wouldn’t even chance a glance at Alex cemented it. But Alex wasn’t giving up. Not yet.
               “You wait till that asshole gets back,” Kyle muttered to himself, everything in his stance to his voice downright murderous.
               “He’s probably still in class,” Alex said, standing. “He’s been taking a lot of extra credit lately.”
               “Where are you going?” Kyle asked like he already knew.
               “To see him,” he said, but didn’t finish what he was thinking. He wasn’t letting this end in silence. He was going to figure out what was going on. Michael wouldn’t let him down, he was sure.
               He hoped.
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