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certifiedskywalker · 3 years

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Pomegranate Chapstick - Peter Parker

It’s Winter in New York City. Not that movie magic kind of Winter that reeks of mistletoe and Hallmark channel cliches. No, it’s no longer the Holiday Season and everyone is back to school after Winter Break. Peter Parker is happy to be back because being back means being able to see you again. Though, something is different about you but he just can’t place it.

“What is it?”

“Y/N…”

“Yeah?” Ned looked in the same direction as Peter, who, suddenly self conscious, turned his friend back around to face him. “What is it?”

“Don’t, don’t look! I just…” Peter found that his eyes trailed back over to where you talking with MJ. Your eyes were bright, hands gesturing about you as your friend shared you into a passion. Despite your movements, Peter found himself drawn back to your smile.

“Something’s different,” he finished, “but I don’t know what.”

“It’s only been like two weeks. It was Christmas literally a few days ago.” Peter glanced warily at Ned before he looked back to you. You were still smiling. The sight made his chest tighten, stole his breath directly from his lungs. “Pete?”

“You remember Homecoming,” Peter pointed out as he met Ned’s eyes, “that all happened in a week and I almost died. Twice! Anything could have happened over break.”

Peter let his eyes wander back to you. Whatever MJ was discussing with you was enthralling. You were completely consumed, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. Slightly hidden under all of the layers of Winter clothing you were wearing, you looked warm, aflamed and bright. Suddenly, you threw your head back, laughing at something MJ had said.

The sound sent a shiver down Peter’s spine that he tried to pass off as a response to the cold. He pulled the sleeves of his jacket over his chilled hands and adjusted the strap of his backpack that dug into his shoulder. Ned blinked at him a few times, too close of a friend to not notice Peter’s nervous ticks.

Eventually, Ned glanced over in your direction too. “Well, Y/N seemed alright. We had Advanced Geometry together and we talked.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Really? Did anything happen?”

“From what Y/N said, your Winter break was way more eventful, Spiderman.”

Peter knocked the back of his hand against Ned’s shoulder to hush him. Classmates continued to file out of the school, laughing and chatting about the less than glorious return to academia. Peter eyed them all as they stepped down the stairs to the streets of the city. None of his peers seemed to have picked up on Peter’s secret. Satisfied his identity was safe, Peter glanced at Ned with a warning balanced in his frown.

“Sorry,” Ned said, raising his hands.

“Gotta be more careful.” Peter glanced around at the faces of his classmates once more. Everyone was too caught up in leaving school for the day to notice the worried look on his face. All except you when Peter accidentally met your eyes. Quickly, he tore his gaze away and stared directly, wide-eyed, at Ned.

“What?”

“Y/N.” Ned glanced over in your direction.

“Headed over with MJ. Why?”

Peter’s face warmed to the point where the scarf wrapped around his jaw was pointless. “And? Does...is...do I look okay?”

Ned squinted before his lips broke into a wide grin. A laugh rattled in his chest and Peter felt a fresh wave of panic wash over his shoulders.

“What?! Do I look-”

“Hey losers,” MJ greeted, standing by your side. Peter glanced at the curly-haired girl before he saw you gently elbowed her shoulder. He met your eyes and felt his lips instinctively curl up in a lopsided smile.

“Hi,” Peter said softly as he tried to steady his breathing. Now, with you closer, he tried to study you, sleuth out what was different.

“Hey! Do you guys wanna do something? Hang out?”

Your smile was still as bright as your eyes as you asked. Maybe it was the ruddiness in your cheeks, spurred on by the cold that made you seem changed? No, that was too simple.

“Nah, I gotta work,” MJ said.

“Wow, you got a job?” Ned asked, causing Peter to glance away from your face for a moment. When he looked back to you, Peter found that you were looking at him. Though, you quickly looked to MJ, waiting for her reply.

“Yeah, over break. At the QuikMart.”

Maybe you got a haircut or, possibly, you dyed your hair and the color was fading back to it’s natural tone. Aunt May had dyed her hair a dark red one year. Peter remembered thinking there was blood in the tub when the pigment started to wash out. Though, even with his ‘Spidey-vision’, as Ned called it, Peter couldn’t detect a color.

“Awesome. Can you get me free slushies?”

“Bro, I don’t even get free slushies,” MJ replied, frowning at Ned. “I gotta go, can’t be late. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“See ya,” you said, waving off your friend as MJ walked along the snowy sidewalks. Peter swallowed hard when you looked back to him and Ned. “What about you two?”

“I told my mom I’d be back after school to help her with my lola, my grandma.” Peter’s brow furrowed and he turned his head to look at Ned. “Really? You need help?”

“No, she’s coming over to make some food,” Ned explained as he started down the steps of the school. “I’m mom’s moral support.”

“Oh…”

“Well, have fun with that,” you said, bringing Peter’s eyes back to focus on you. “Maybe next time then.”

Ned let out another laugh. It was eerily similar to the laugh he gave Peter when he asked if he looked okay. Something about the sound made Peter’s stomach twist.

“You two have fun!” Ned’s shout disappeared after him, down the sidewalk and into the city. His words left you and Peter alone. You glanced back to him with a soft smile on your lips. Peter couldn’t help but smile back at you, even though he did so nervously. His eyes flickered up to yours then back to your lips.

While your smile was unchanged, still yours and beautiful, he kept coming back to your lips. It had to be your lips that were different and Peter leaned in slightly to figure out how. Your eyes widened slightly and Peter’s face burned with realization.

“Uh, sorry,” Peter shifted back and let his gaze fall. “So, what do you wanna do?”

“I-I...to be honest, I don’t know. I just missed you over Winter break. Missed, all of you, I mean. MJ and Ned, and you.” You held Peter’s eyes for a fleeting glance before you busied yourself wiping snow off the steps with your boot.

“Yeah, I,” Peter felt his chest tightened again, “I missed you too, Y/N.”

You looked back up at him, met his brown eyes and gave him a closed-lip smile. Silence fell over the two of you but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was easy, not tension filled and heavy. Being with you was always easy for Peter but this new nervousness that bloomed over Winter break was difficult to manage. He couldn’t let his eyes linger on you too long until fear took hold.

The silence too had its limit. “We should head over to the library maybe. You have Ms. Turner for chem, right? We could study together if you want.”

Peter fought the urge to cringe as his suggestion. In his head, it sounded better, more thought through. He had missed you and wanted to spend time with you. So, naturally, he had to recommend the quiet library. Maybe he was the one that was different, more awkward.

“Sure, yeah!” You started down the steps and Peter trailed after you. “She’s new and I’m a bit nervous about how she tests.”

“I’m nervous too,” Peter agreed as he fell into step beside you. “About the test.”

Peter glanced at you from the corner of his eyes and saw that you were already looking at him. Quickly, you both looked away from the other and started to walk silently towards the library. Every so often, Peter felt your gloved hand against the skin of his bare knuckles. Each time you touched him, a new sense of curiosity struck him. This quietness was different, he wasn’t sure that he liked it, and your hidden change still gnawed at him.

Mr. Stark had given Peter many words of wisdom. Always ask questions was, seemingly, his motto when it came to his ‘internship’. Though, Peter couldn’t find the words. Everytime he did, he second guessed.

Hey, what did you get up to over break? New style? No, no, no! It had to be your smile. He was stuck on your smile, your lips.

Finally, with nerves and desperation bubbling up inside, Peter let the words come out without thinking. “Y/N, are you wearing like lipstick or something?”

You laughed, drawing the attention of those around you. The last crosswalk before the library was fast approaching and Peter needed to find out what had changed before you were both doomed to a respectable quiet.

“Lipstick? No, I am wearing tinted chapstick though.”

“Oh,” Peter’s brow furrowed, “I guess maybe that’s what’s different.”

“Different?” At your amused tone, Peter looked at you, brown eyes searching your face. There was a softness in his eyes and stole your breath away. His lips turned up slightly at the corners, the gentlest smile you had ever seen.

“You just...you look-”

A car horn, loud, alarming, and terribly frightening ripped through the air. Peter reacted to the sound, lurching forwards and wrapping his arms around your waist. Even with your bag slung halfway on your back, Peter was able to catch you as you nearly fell into the street. The car horn faded into the distance but your attention shifted from death to Peter in an instant.

“Beautiful,” he finished.

Finally, it clicked. You hadn’t changed, but the way Peter saw you had. The way he saw your lips had shifted too. More enticing than ever before.

“Peter, I…”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Peter said, quickly helping you back to your feet and out of the crosswalk. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you said with a swallow breath. Peter’s hands were still on you, thumbs gently rubbing your coat-covered, upper arm. Your eyes lingered on Peter, unable to tear them away.

His breath, and yours, came out in small clouds, chilled by the cold. Together, you made your own atmosphere and shared the same air. Adrenaline pumped through Peter’s veins, filled, not with curisoulity anymore, but want. He took a step closer.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You found yourself coaxed closer by his warmth.

“Can...can I kiss you?”

You smiled again and nodded. “Yes.”

Peter leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. His fingers dug into the material of your coat softly. One of your hands reached up, cupped his face and accidentally knocked his hat off of his brown curls. Neither of you cared and, instead, savored your shared late-Winter kiss. Peter’s hands trailed up your arms until they gently held your jaw, keeping your lips on his.

Peter’s eyes stayed closed and a smile plastered on his face when you pulled away. A chuckle passed over your lips when you saw how your tinted chapstick left a faint stain on Peter’s lips. Carefully, you used your thumb and wiped what residue you saw away. Peter’s eyes opened at the touch and his smile widened.

“Pomegranate?”

“You like it?”

Peter pulled you in for another kiss after saying, “I love it.”

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innocent-chris-evans-slut · 4 years

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Jealousy

My Masterlist ✨

Requests are open.

Chris Evans x daughter!Reader

Word Count: 1,4 k

Type: fluff

Summary: You acknowledge there’s something wrong with Dodger when, during lunch, he prefers sitting down at your feet rather than your father’s.

It was Sunday and, as any other Sunday during which you and your father -the famous Chris Evans- where in Boston, your grandmother Lisa had organized a big family reunion at her house.

Literally every member of your family was there: your grandparents Lisa and Bob -also the house-owners-, your aunts Shanna and Carly with their husbands and children: Stella and Miles, and your favorite uncle, Scott.

Or that was how he had always defined himself.

Out of his three nephews, you were the older -much older than the other two- and it gave the authority to drag you around the house. And he certainly didn’t accept a ‘no’ as an answer.

At the moment you were sitting on the couch in the living room, gossiping about the lives of his new neighbor. He hadn’t been stopping talking about him a second since you entered the front door and, according to everyone’s faces, you were the only one listening to him.

“He’s so…umph…he’s so hot” he panted and rested his head against the backrest of the couch, “Give me some advice!” he nudged at you, making you flinch, “You have a hot fucking boyfriend”.

“Yeah, don’t tell me about it” you giggled as you mocked him, “Why don’t you welcome him in the neighbor, maybe with grandma’s apple pi-“ you were suddenly interrupted by a big hairball jumping on your legs, “Hi, Bubba”, you petted his head and kept doing it while talking with your uncle.

“You’re the best” Scott kissed the crown of your head and screamed in search for his mother. Once she was in front the two of you, he told her about your plan to make his hot neighbor falling in love with him, “And then I thou-“

All of a sudden, all the attention was on me. Or better, on the dog on my legs.

“Did he just-?”

“I think he did.”

You lowered your gaze and met Dodger’s sad eyes, “Why are you crying, baby?” you asked, though you knew he would have never answered you, “What happened to you?” you kept petting him -now on his back, continuously shaken by his hiccups. Then, out of the blue, he put his muzzle in the crock of your neck.

Everybody in the room stared at you, as you tried to calm his cry. Dodger turned into an inconsolable big baby and you didn’t know what to do about it. He wouldn’t stop crying, so you wrapped both your arms around his body and tightened your grip around him.

When the men, from outside, called you saying the lunch was ready, you embraced your dog and got up -careful not to stumble over anything. Once you’d made it in the backyard, you let go of him -though he never left your side, neither when you sat down around the table. He stood there: sat on his legs at your right with his face turned towards you.

In your plate there was a steak and you knew, better than anybody else, how much Dodger loved meat -even if you dad didn’t allow you to give it to him. This is an exception, you thought, only once. So, you sliced the steak and took a tiny piece of it between your fingers, only to give it to your dog -which was more than thrilled to eat it.

The lunch went on very well. You exchanged a few words with your aunts and played with your little cousins as they were sat right in front of you. Not only hadn’t him left your side, but he also forced your grandmother to move his bowl from next to the grill to under the table. You made sure none would step on his tail while he was half-asleep.

“Has he ever detached from you today?” grandpa Bob asked you as you approached him on the porch. As usual, he had a beer in his left hand and in the right one three cards. He and grandma Lisa were playing an Italian game with cards -which the woman succeeded in teaching you.

“Not even once”, you sat down behind the woman and your dog climbed on your lap, again, “Neither when I went to the bathroom”, you had been petting him for an infinite amount of time since that morning, “I still don’t know what happened”.

You and your grandparents were trying to figure out what could have caused his odd behavior when your father jogged up to where you were, “Hey, sweetie. Hey, Bubb-“

Dodger angrily barked at him and you could barely hold him in place as he tried to rush to your father.

“Waoh- What has gotten into you?” he reached up for the back of Dodger’s ears, where his soft spot was, but quickly pulled his hand back when the dog barked again at him, “What happened?” he was now talking to you.

You saw him sitting on the armchair in front of you and answered: “I don’t know! Just before lunch he came for me and sat on me”, you put your hands over his ears -as if he would have understood your words, “He cried like a baby and never left my side since then”.

“That’s odd”, was your father’s only comment as he analyzed Dodger’s face, to see if anything was wrong with him, “Usually he doesn’t leave my side”.

“Well, thank you”, you said a little bit confused by his words, “Always a gentleman”, you commented and focused completely on petting your dog, still wandering why he was acting oddly.

“Sweetie, you know I love you more than anything.”

“I’m not so sure”, as you tried to sit up, Dodger put his paw on your knee and pulled you down. He wasn’t strong enough to do it, yet you didn’t want to hurt him, “Why are you doing this?” you whispered to his ear.

A moment after everything was cleared and you couldn’t help but burst into laughs.

Your grandma’s neighbor had recently bought a dog, same size as Dodger but with dark black hair, and she, and his owner, were there that day. You had seen your father talking with her and playing with her dog as he grilled the meat.

Chris had always helped other people with their domestic animals, he loved petting random cute dogs around the streets, though only one owned his heart. And it was Dodger. Whenever they had to be distant, he made sure his daughter would sleep with him and play with him as much as Chris did with Dodger, and whenever he was shooting near to Boston, he brought Dodger on set with him.

The fact that now the dog didn’t want his owner to come closer to him made Chris feel bad.

“You’re such a baby”, you said laughing, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, “Are you jealous of Dada?” you cupped his muzzle between your hands and kissed the top of his nose, “Yes, you are”. When you raised your eyes, you noticed three pairs of eyes already staring at you and waiting for an explanation, “He must have seen you playing with her dog-“, you pointed towards the red-haired woman leaving the place, “-and he got jealous”, then you went back paying attention to your dog, “You’re unbelievable”, you laughed.

“Why do you laugh?” your dad chuckled at you, now petting Dodger’s head, “You did quite the same thing when you were younger. Don’t dyou are to take fun of my baby boy”.

“Oh, is that so? Is he your ‘baby boy’ now?” you got up and threw your bag over your shoulder, “I’m heading home. Get you a ride home, Daddy”, you knew how pissed off he was every time you called him like that, and you took advantage of it. Every. Single. Time.

You pulled your car keys from you bag and quickly opened the car door by the driver seat.

“Wait!” Chris was running after you and so was your dog, to which you gladly opened the back hood. Then, you sat inside and locked all the doors. As your father tried to get in, you shut him down, “Oh, c’mon! Why he yes and I no?”

“’Cause he’s a baby! You’re a grown-up man who should think before talking”, you turned on the car’s engine and faked a departure, “Would you like to say anything?”

Chris groaned under his breath and closed his eyes. After a deep breath, he was back looking at you, “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. You’re my baby and Dodger is our baby”, he knew what to say to make you forgive him.

“Jump on, big man”, as he was sat next to you, you started the engine and left.

After all your father was right; you weren’t better than Dodger at being jealous of your father.

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#chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #fluff chris evans #dodger #dog #jeaulosy #family #daughter!reader #dad!chris #steve rogers #captain america #ransom drysdale

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years

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Seeing Green

When your dad forces you to come to a movie premiere with him, you get more hatred than you bargain for.

“Do I have to go?” You groaned, “can’t Grandma be your date again or something?” Your dad shook his head as he struggled to tie his tie in the mirror of his bedroom. It was the Los Angeles premiere of his newest movie, and normally he flew out one of your aunts, Scott, or your grandparents to be his date. But suddenly you were watching him try on a suit that supposedly matched a set of dresses he wanted you to wear because for some reason, he was determined to make a father-daughter date out of it.

“Nope. She didn’t want to fly out last minute since they’re watching your cousins for the weekend already. Go ahead and start getting ready and I’ll leave the dress on your door,” he instructed. You wanted him to believe that the only reason you didn’t want to go was because it was last minute, but that was a bit of an exaggeration. You didn’t want to go because you absolutely dreaded what the world would say. They already looked at you with sympathetic eyes because of who he was, and because of the situation with your lack of a mother. But lately, since you were getting older and couldn’t pull off the cute kid look anymore, things were getting harder. The press was suddenly watching you. If you gained a few pounds and your dad posted a picture of you, they were watching. If you got a bad haircut, they were watching. If you were doing anything except being Chris Evans’s perfect daughter, they were watching you. And you hated it. You just wanted a normal night in with your family, but that was obviously not happening.

“I hate you,” you joked in response. Your dad just chuckled.

“Yeah, I love you too.” You walked away and started getting ready, taking a long, hot shower before doing your hair and makeup. A blue, floor-length dress with flowers on the skirt was hanging on your doorknob by the time you were ready, and to no surprise, it fit perfectly. Your dad had people come measure you every time you grew a single inch just so that you always had clothes that fit properly.

“You look beautiful,” your dad insisted as you walked out of your room, carrying your heels so you wouldn’t have to put them on yet.

“I’m only going if you promise to buy me Fatburger after,” you responded, crossing your arms over the dress. It was pretty, but the chest area was definitely itchy. You much preferred one of your old t-shirts.

“I will buy you all the Fatburger you want,” he chuckled. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“You’re welcome. I guess it looks stupid if you’re alone.”

“I hate going to these things in general, you know that.” That was definitely a lie; he was a people person. He loved any kind of human interaction he could get. And he was fueled by all of the positivity that came out of it. That was another reason you were dreading going – you didn’t want him to know what people were saying about you, even if it took everything in you not to go cry to him about it.

You just didn’t respond – you scrolled through your phone and took a few funny pictures to send to your friends until the car got there. The entire time, your dad was coaching you like he hadn’t made you go through media training when he got you your first phone and let you get social media. You knew who not to engage with. You knew not to wander off unless you were with someone from the theater or from his management. You knew to walk a few feet behind him until he asked you to stand beside him. You knew all of that already. It didn’t stop the anxiety, though, when the car pulled up to the Dolby and you saw the massive crowd. You fiddled with your phone until it was time to put it into the small bag you brought.

“Okay, how do I look?” Your dad joked as he prepared to get out. You just gave him a thumbs-up and watched as he got out first, then came to your side and got you out of the car. You tried to ignore the cameras, sucking in your stomach, trying to stand taller, making sure your hair was on the right side of your shoulder. You watched your dad work the carpet like he was born to do it, which he was. And then he held out a hand and you walked toward him, taking his hand.

“Smile, babe, you look gorgeous,” he insisted. So you did. He walked up to the area where fans were allowed to wait and you stood beside him, watching him sign autograph after autograph.

“Who’s this?” One reporter asked Chris as he signed autographs.

“My daughter, Y/n,” Chris smiled back at her. “Y/n, babe, stand here.” He instructed you to stand closer to him as he started walking again. You could feel the anxiety building up when you saw more reporters, but your dad knew how to get you through it. You grabbed onto his hand and finally followed him into the theater. It wasn’t quiet in there, either, and you could feel yourself going into overload as you got your first social media alerts of the night.

“You okay?” Your dad asked you, squeezing your hand. You nodded. “Alright. I’m gonna go say hi to some people. Seats should be reserved in there so you can go ahead and sit down.” You nodded again and brushed past him, walking into the screening room and sitting down. You opened your phone to see a few headlines containing your handle.

Chris Evans takes daughter Y/N on date to the Dolby!

Chris Evans’s Daughter is All Gown Up!

The first few weren’t particularly terrible. They were just pictures of you that had somehow already made it online. But then you noticed the people were actually mentioning you, and that was where it got bad.

Is he really so desperate to take her? Yikes…

Literally forgot he even had a kid...

If only she wasn’t ugly af

You could feel the tears coming to your eyes and shoved your phone back into your purse, putting it on the ground beside you. The last thing you wanted was for your dad to see any of those, and thankfully he didn’t check Twitter very often.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked as he finally took a seat next to you.

“Yeah,” you lied, “just a little overwhelming.” He put an arm on the back of your seat as you waited for the movie to start. It was a good movie, one of the best he’d been in. At least in your opinion. The role had been really hard on him and he played it so well that you could barely even believe he had been able to come home at the end of the day without it affecting him. But the entire time, your attention kept getting pulled to the messages you had seen earlier. You ended up shaking your leg so much with anxiety that your dad put his hand on it to make it stop, only removing it when you mouthed to him that everything was fine. You were just worried that they would multiply and get worse and worse and worse until it was impossible for them to ignore. You didn’t want him to be ashamed of you, but some twisted part of you thought that maybe the internet could convince him to be.

“I’ll meet you back at the car,” you said as soon as the movie ended. You stood up shakily, grabbing your purse, and only then did you realize how hasty you were being. Your dad, poor guy, was confused as hell.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I just don’t feel good,” you lied. “I’ll meet you back at the car.”

“Text me when you make it there. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” You felt like you were going to throw up as you walked out of the theater, past the cameras that wouldn’t stop taking worthless pictures of you, and one of the security guards directed you to the car that was waiting to take you and your dad back home.

Made it to the car, you texted him. He responded with a thumbs up, which meant he was too busy to text. Another alert popped up on your phone and, exactly like you were worried about, your mentions were flooded with comments. So many of them were nice – saying you looked just like your dad, saying that you were so pretty, but others were terrible. And those were the ones that got you. They got you so hard that you were sitting in the back of the Tahoe, crying all of your makeup off. You didn’t even realize you were letting it all out until you heard the door open and your dad got in, immediately noticing something was wrong.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. “Are you sick?” He extended a hand to check your forehead, and you just swatted it away.

“People are just fucking mean,” you responded, half frustrated. He must have notice because he didn’t comment on your bad language one bit.

“Give me your phone,” he ordered. You did, unlocking it for him, and he scrolled. He chewed on his lip as he did, looking from your crying figure to the phone and back again. And eventually he just shut it off and put it back on the car’s floor. You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t have to.

“You realize these are people who are just bored, right? They’re bored so they’re picking on you?” He sounded angry, but he played it off well.

“But…”

“They’re just jealous of you, that’s all. They’re being mean because they can, and you’re letting them.” You sniffled a little. His voice softened and so did his face, and he quickly took your hand and squeezed when he realized he wasn’t helping.

“Then why do I feel so bad?”

“Because. You have to stop letting these people get the better of you.”

“But…”

“No buts. Promise me you’ll just stop looking at these? Or at least taking them seriously? I don’t want you to think any of these matter because they don’t. Stop crying over people who don’t even know you.”

“Thanks, I’m cured,” you grumbled. You tried to smile, but another tear fell from your eye.

“They’re just seeing green, honey. They’re just pissed ‘cause they don’t have a cool dad like me.” You laughed this time, letting your dad pull you in for another hug. “Now. Are we still getting dinner, or are you going to let the internet convince you we shouldn’t?”

Hope the person who requested enjoys!! ❤️

#chris evans x daughter!reader #chris evans x teen!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

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YALL OK STORYTIME TACKLING WHY I’M A VERY GOOD WINGWOMAN AND HOW I GOT MY FIRST IPHONE (translated our convos tho)

— ok so my tito (uncle) is hella rich and whenever we hang out i ask him to buy me books hHABXHAJA istg majority of my books in my shelf is from him 😭✋🏻

— we go out to malls and different places sometimes with my other uncle who’s like a brother to me (5 years older) and my tito treats us both to drive-thrus and different cafes :DDD

— NOW around early feb 2020 when there was still no quarantine, me and my uncle were out and we went to the mall. He was single so he was asking for my opinion on passersby, asking me to rate them and I was all whAt nO thAts bAd but yea i think she’s a 4 (naw everyone was gorgeous i just didn’t rlly see what she looked like omg no offense but i’m dumb and i just kept saying 4)

— then we got hungry and he was like “where do you wanna eat?” and i said bon chon first, but he didn’t wanna eat there (THANK GOD HE DIDN’T BECAUSE IF HE DID NONE OF THE FOLLOWING WOULD HAVE HAPPENED)

— so we went to KFC and while we were in line he was like “what about her?” and i asked him where and he gestured at the girl at the front of the other line and i didn’t really see clearly but i had to say something else other than 4 so i was like “six” and he’s like “huh just six? she’s pretty.” JSBDJEIWJW I COULDN’T SEE HER OK SO I WAS LIKE “eight” and he was all “just eight???”

— so yeah we ate first and when we left kfc (already in a diff building in the mall but not too far), he was like “eiah, get her number for me”

— JSBDJEIWOAM!/!/&/& and i asked him what i’d get in return and he said one book, so i was all jUST ONE BOOK??? Make it five 😤

— so we went back and he waited far away as i made my way back to kfc and the girl was sitting just beside the window eating with her grandma omfg she was gorgeous and in my mind i was like oh damn she’s a ten

— so i deadass just approached her and said “hi, um, are you single???” i was wearing my uniform and i looked like a sweet school girl getting high grades so no doubt i looked trustworthy

— she was a bit shy but nodded nonetheless omfg she looked so sweet and kind aaaaa jznxjekw and i told her my tito thought she was (i trailed off) and asked her if i could have her number. SHE DID AND DEEP INSIDE I WAS LIKE HECK YES FIVE BOOKS

— so when i got back to my tito i was all 😚🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻 PLS HE THOUGHT I WOULDN’T DO IT WHEN I SHOWED HIM THE NUMBER ON MY PHONE’S NOTES AHXHDHWJAJ

— “if this is a joke and it’s just your number, i’m gonna kill you.” 😭✋🏻 I TOLD HIM THE ENTIRE THING ON THE WAY HOME and i was like “since i did that, i should get five books and your iphone xs”

— he was like “fine, but only if this is real.”

— he sent me pics of him messaging her on messenger omg

— fastforward to a few weeks or so we went out again cos he was gonna buy workout and training equipment (agh that was low key hell i carried a 20kg bag cos the shop didn’t allow carts outside and the car was parked out shdjwiw)

— i asked him how things went and he was all “pfft nothing, she didn’t answer”

— ohoho but she did hHAHSHSHA he asked me to take a cool picture of him even 😭 so he eventually admitted

— then we went out again to get my ✨books✨ i ended up buying the selection series and book 2 to cobab and when i got home i saw he updated his instagram

— HE NEVER USED INSTAGRAM OK NEVEERRRRR JSNDHEJAKA BUT THEN IT WAS SUDDENLY FILLED W HIS BEST PHOTOS LMAO DORK

— and i stalked her facebook and instagram and omg she gorgeouuuss

— then i found out they were dating and he even took her to my aunt’s house (kinda like a farm lot but not rlly) kajdieiw he never takes any girl there omfgjfisiJSKEK!!!! he even introduced her to grandma already <333

— i’m so happy for them omg he was single for a long time 😩 i love them both, she’s very nice i’m glad they’re a thing now

— then they took me with them to this asylum horror house which was low key embarrassing cos i cussed a hell lot like a LOT. my tito didn’t expect me getting scared cos i liked scary shit but the cusses were too crispy-

— but he had to go back to sea so he was gone for months entire quarantine but when he got back boi they spent a lot lot lot lot lottttsss of time together omg i love them 🥺

— OH AND DECEMBER LAST YEAR HE GAVE ME HIS IPHONE YAY!/!/8.8 mind u my oppo f5 sucked ass i will literally never go back to oppo if i were to change phones again no offense

#vesuvia’s dump #vesuvia rants #vesuvia tells stories #meet cute #AGH PLS IM SUCH A GOOD WINGWOMAN #she do be living the y/n life tho 😩#long post

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

Burn; Current!Roger Taylor x reader

*Author’s note*

In light of Hamilton coming out on Disney+ today (watched it earlier this afternoon and WAS BLOWN AWAY!!!!!) I wanted to post this for awhile but never had the time nor did I think I was going to but I then thought screw it I'll post it in light of Hamilton. So this fanfic goes around "That would be enough" (If you haven't read that story GO READ THAT CAUSE SPOILERS!!!) but this time it's in YOUR POV. Plus this song had some heavy inspiration for a sequel-ish part of that fic. So I hope you all enjoy it and have a safe and happy 4th of July to my fellow American readers :)

You can read pt.1 here -------> READ ME

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@platawnic

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@geek-and-proud

@kairosfreddie

@queendeakyy

_____________________________________________________________

I sat there in the pub trying to enjoy our victory at the Grammy’s with my Hamilton fam, but what Roger had told me just clouded my mind and it was all I could think about. He was my dad. All this time I really did have a father, a freakin Rockstar legend no doubt. The man I had come to idolize out of all the four members of my favorite rock band was none other than my dad.

What if he was lying? Maybe he know about this all along? Maybe he kicked my mother aside as soon as she told him? So many questions were buzzing through my mind. So many what if’s and maybes that I almost was about to just start bawling right there in the club.

“(Y/n)? You okay?” I felt a hand at my shoulder and when I turned around there stood Lin. His brown eyes filled with concern.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You sure? You looked really out of it for a second there.” Said Renée.

“I’ll bet she’s still just star struck from having to sing alongside her favorite rock group. Am I right?” Daveed teased as he wrapped an arm around me and poked my cheek teasingly.

“Yeah how did it feel to be up there with Queen themselves (n/n)? You’ve always raved on about how you wished to perform alongside them.” Leslie said.

“Oh it was—amazing.” I trailed off. “Excuse me.” I removed Daveed’s arm from my shoulders and walked out ot eh club to try and get some air.

Once outside I was automatically hit with the cool winter LA air. I took a left to the side of the club and leaned up against the wall trying to compose myself. Of course I wasn’t gonna tell the guys what Roger just told me, no. This was my mess and they don’t deserve this gossip, but I’ve got to see whether Roger Taylor was either playing me for a fool or if in fact he really is my—father.

In the weeks that went by after the award season was done, I called up my mom’s brother and sister, my uncle Bobby and aunt Jodie to finally see just what the truth was. I first arrived at my aunt Jodie’s home down in Sioux Falls and knocked on the door. The door opened after about five seconds and there stood my aunt Jodie, sheriff of the Sioux Falls police force.

“Hey, there’s my Tony award winning niece.”

“Aunt Jodie you know I didn’t win the award.”

“I don’t care you were denied that award. I’ve heard the album and I saw the show the day it came to Broadway and you were sensational!” I smiled and thanked her with a hug. “Come in, I was just making some coffee before I headed out to start my shift.”

“Oh well if you’re too busy we can talk later.” I said as I was gestured inside.

“Nonsense, besides I’m the sheriff I can come in whenever I want.” She bragged. I shook my head playfully at her as she went into the kitchen and got the coffee poured out. “So, you said over the phone that you wanted to talk about your mom, right?”

“In a way.” I said as I took one of the coffee mugs she soon came in with. She and I sat down in the dining room and she said.

“Okay. What’s going on?”

“Look I’m just gonna cut to the chase. Is Roger Taylor my father?” her eyes widened and she gulped noticeably.

“Wow. That is cutting to the chase.”

“Aunt Jodie please. I’ve—been literally freaking out about this ever since he told me after the Grammy’s……”

“Wait, wait, whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on. You mean you actually met him?”

“Is it true?!” I demanded. Aunt Jodie set her mug down and sighed heavily.

“God (m/n) you should’ve told her the truth.” She muttered into her hands as she buried her face into them.

“So it is true? Roger Taylor really is my dad?” she turned to me with solemn eyes and took my hand in hers.

“Your mom and Roger were a couple. And they seemed really happy with each other, even from being across the world from each other most days until one day she did move to London with him. God I could’ve sworn they would’ve been married by the end of the year. But you mom showed up at my apartment one night, drenched in the storm that was here that night with a heartbroken expression.”

“So—did he…..dump her? Break her heart?” I snapped lowly.

“Truth be told, your mom left him.” I looked at her in shock. “Yeah. It was also when she told me that she was pregnant. With you. Roger’s child.” She said as she stroked my cheek. I turned away from her and I said as I stared at my mug of coffee.

“Why the hell would she lie to me all these years?”

“Believe me sweetie. Your uncle Bobby and I tried to convince your mom to tell you the truth. Especially once you heard your first Queen song. And—” But before she could finish her statement, her phone rang. She picked it up and answered in a firm tone, “Sheriff Jodie……yeah. Okay. Alright I’ll be there soon.” She hung up and sighed heavily. “Sorry sweetie, the team needs me to do a press interview and it can’t wait any longer.”

“I understand.” I said solemnly.

“Here.” She spoke after a moment of silence. She went over to the living room where she kept all her books and reached the very top of it and pulled out a scrapbook. “Take this.” She handed it to me.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Your mom got into scrapbooking while she was up there. It—has all the pictures of her and Roger together. She told me to hide this shortly after you were born, but I think now since you know the truth, you should take it.” She held it out to me and I took it. “You know, if you don’t wanna wait for me. You can see your uncle Bobby. He might have some things to tell you.”

“Wait, uncle Bobby knows about this too?!” I said aghast. “Did the entire family know about this too? Did grandma and grandpa know about this too?”

“No. Just Bobby and I as her siblings. In fact your grandfather tried to keep your mom away from Roger when they started seeing each other. Said that he was no good for her.” With that she forced herself to leave the house so that she could meet for that press interview.

“Mom—why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?” I sighed as I left aunt Jodie’s place and headed 30 miles north to meet my uncle Bobby over at his place.

I arrived at his home/garage shop and we were both sitting down in the kitchen. He was currently eating a steak and potatoes and he even asked if I wanted anything but I told him I didn’t have the appetite to eat. I then explained to him everything that I had found out and it was then he gently lowered his fork filled with mashed potatoes and he said grimly.

“So you met your old man?”

“Got to perform with him actually. I know you really don’t do award shows except for the CMA’s but yeah. I performed alongside Queen and Adam Lambert at the Grammys back in February.”

“And he told you that he was your father?”

“Yeah. Aunt Jodie gave me mom’s scrapbook. Would’ve told me more but she had to do a press junket or something like that.”

“Always busy that little sister of mine.” He sighed solemnly. “Listen sweetheart; when your mom first started seeing Roger I knew a bit of his playboy rep. Then again what rockstar back then didn’t have one? I just told her to be careful. Sure I wasn’t all that thrilled with her dating a Brit but I couldn’t stop her. But when Jodie called and told me that she had come back home pregnant with you, I wanted to drag her ass back there and have her tell Roger what had happened.”

“So she left—because of me?”

“Of course not sweetie. Her reason was because of the fact that Queen was finally rising to the heights they had dreamed of. She—she was honestly scared of what Roger would say if she told him. Jodie and I tried to convince her but you know your mama. Stubborn as an ox. Much like yourself.”

He stood up and went to open a drawer and pulled out a small rusted box. He set it down before me and he told me.

“While your mom could never physically tell you the truth, she tried to see if she could write you a letter. She wrote one every year on your birthday, but could never find the heart to give them to you. She also even wrote some letters to Roger.”

“Let me guess, and she entrusted you with this like she did with aunt Jodie for the scrapbook.”

“There’s also this.” He left and grabbed an envelope from the kitchen cabinet where he would usually keep bills at. “This…..was the letter she wrote on her deathbed. She entrusted me to give this to you when you were ready. Well, guess now’s a good time as any.” He handed me the envelope and I held that along with touching the lid of the box to reveal hundreds maybe thousands of letters.

I tried to keep the tears at bay from the hurt I was feeling in my chest. Uncle Bobby was silence for a moment before he said to me.

“Take your time when you read these letters.”

After a couple of months of finally going through all the letter my mum tried to write to both Roger and myself throughout the years, and finally able to see every single picture of her and Roger together I was numb.

I was the only one left up on stage since everyone decided to go out to eat for their lunch break before tomorrow tonight’s performance which would in fact be Lin’s last performance with us on stage. I took out one specific letter that was actually written just a few days before my mom finally died of cancer, the letter that she was actually able to finish completely with supposedly the right words she needed to tell me.

I had read this letter so many times that I could recite it almost as easy as my lines and the songs from Hamilton. I sat down at the edge of the stage and looked down at it before taking out my phone and went through my rehearsal track and found the instrumental version of Burn.

Much like I had done once before when I was betrayed by my ex-fiancé at the time I was to star in the show when it first came to Broadway, I sung Burn aloud to myself filling each verse with as much emotion and betrayal I was feeling inside.

However unlike before, I couldn’t help myself but mix up some words to what I would normally sing on stage.

Play video

*Me*

I saved every letter you wrote to us From the moment I read them I knew you were his He said you were his Which makes me his

Do you know what aunt Jodie said, When we saw your first record arrive? You said, be careful with that one, love He will do what it takes to survive

You and your words flooded my senses Your sentences left me defenseless You built me palaces out of paragraphs You built cathedrals

I'm re-reading the letters you wrote to me I'm searching and scanning for answers in every line For some kind of sign And when you were mine The world seemed to burn. Burn.

You published your works to the world You told me of How you brought my mom into your bed In clearing your name You have ruined my life

Do you know what uncle Bobby said When he heard what you'd done? He said, she’s partnered with an Icarus He has flown too close to the sun

You and your words obsessed with your legacy Your sentences border on senseless And you are paranoid in every paragraph How they perceive you You, you, you!

I'm erasing you both from the narrative Let everyone wonder how (Y/n) reacted When you both broke her heart You have torn it all apart I'm watching it burn Watching it burn

The world has no right to my heart The world has no place in your bed They don't get to know what I said I'm burning the memories Burning the letters that

Might have redeemed you both

You forfeit all rights to my heart You forfeit the place in his bed You'll sleep in your office instead With only the memories of when you were mine

I hope you both

Burn

“I haven’t heard you sing that song with that much emotion since your ex fiancé cheated on you.” I turned around and there stood Lin. He took off his newsies hat and said. “You sure you don’t wanna tell me what’s going on? We’re all worried about you.”

“Just—some personal family drama Lin. You wouldn’t understand.” I said as I sat back down at the edge of the stage.

“I may not get it. But I am willing to lend an ear, if you’d like.” He said as he came up and sat down close to me. His shoulder brushing against mine as his legs mimicked the same way mine were swinging.

“Why do you always have to make me succumb to your charms Lin Manuel Miranda?” he shrugged while giving me the puppy dog eyes. I looked down at my letter before handing it over to him. “You can read it out loud if you’d like.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s better than just you reading in silence. My thoughts will just attack me if there’s silence.” He took the letter from my hand and proceeded to read it.

“‘My darling (y/n). I’ve written this letter over a thousand times in both versions. I could never find the right words to say but with my time coming to an end, you deserve to know the truth. You know how you’ve always loved the songs from Queen? Well, it would seem fate has decided to let you hear them for you see your father is known other than the drummer of Queen.’ Whaaaat?”

“I know. In fact Roger Taylor himself told me he was my father right after the Grammy’s. That’s why I was late to celebration. I didn’t want to believe him, thinking he was a senile old man trying to mess with me. But—hehe turns out he wasn’t. I’ve got pictures from my mom’s scrapbook that she made while she was in London of her and Roger together. All domestic like or her being in the studio with them. And then my uncle shows me some of the many letters she’s tried to write not only to me but to Roger himself about this whole shitshow. So yeah Roger Taylor’s my long lost baby daddy. Surprise!”

“My god.” Lin said after a long pause. “No wonder you’ve been out of sorts lately. I can’t blame you.”

“I’m so confused Lin.”

“About what exactly?”

“Everything. My mom lied to me for so long. Not only to me but apparently to Roger as well cause my aunt Jodie said he never knew. But then again I feel this—utter hatred for Roger because he could’ve told me sooner the moment he found out. Or maybe it would’ve been better had he never told me at all. I mean—I never knew I had a dad. I always believe he never cared about me or my mom, or died of a drug overdose or whatever. It feels like—my whole life has been nothing but one big lie. My entire family knew this secret and yet I find out now almost 30 years later that my father is Roger Fucking Taylor. My idol and favorite member of my most favorite rock band!”

“That is seriously a lot to take in. I mean—if I were in your place I’d be reacting the same way. Lost, betrayed, confused, heartbroken.”

“I just—why would she lie to me? I thought we told each other everything, and she goes and hides for all my life of who my real father was.” I sighed heavily. “You know; I used to always come up with the worst scenarios of why I never had a father. It’s all ranged from the basic ‘you get rid of the baby or I’m leaving you’ scenario. To overdosing or whatever. Or just dying of cancer or some shit like that. But no he’s been living his life as a Rock god. I mean—I should hate him but……he never knew. But then he did, how?”

“Well from what I can tell, and from the pictures you’ve shown me of your mom, you both look similar in a way. But your actions is what really makes you like your mom. I’ve seen all the plays she’s been in as a dancer or ensemble and you have that same fire as she did on the stage. It’s like—you both were made for it.”

“But I guess I get it from both of them.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Still I—I feel so angry with her for lying to me.”

“And it’s okay to be angry. And like you said, Roger didn’t know either. He was kept in the dark about it just as much as you were. But maybe when you got to know them along with Adam it might’ve brought some memories back.” He scooted closer to me and allowed me to rest my head on his shoulder.

“What do I do now?” I asked defeated.

“Well there is one option, but you’re not gonna like it.” We looked at each other and I said.

“You’re right I don’t.”

“But you’ve got to. (Y/n). you can be angry about this but don’t stay mad about it forever. Remember he didn’t know either. It’s not like he packed up and took off. Just tell him how you really feel. I’m not saying you have to accept him and call him dad as soon as you see him. Just—tell him you want to take things slow. Maybe go out for coffee or well tea since he’s British.” I softly laughed at that last remark. “Now there’s that fabulous smile my Eliza is known for.”

“Nice touch calling me my character’s name.”

“I know my Eliza like I know myself.” He shrugged.

“You know that’s Renée’s line right?”

“Yeah I know. Remember I wrote the script.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. C’mon Alexander, I’m hungry and we’ve got an until rehearsal.”

“Sure thing, let us spread our wings and fly away.”

“Okay now you’re just showing off.” I playfully shoved him as we left the theatre and went to go get lunch.

After another couple months, which made it four months since Roger Taylor told me the truth, I found myself in London to where I had told Roger and discussed with him with what I was feeling. He said he was willing to go at whatever speed I needed in order to process this whole thing.

One day after seeing them perform at MSG, Roger and I were sitting together at Central Park right by the Balto statue having a cup of coffee together.

“So what’s new with you my dear?”

“Well…..I’ve been giving this some thought. And—I think it’s time I announced my leaving of Broadway’s Hamilton. Maybe even leaving Broadway all together.”

“Really? What made you decide that?”

“Well. Truthfully I’ve been thinking about……moving to London.” He turned to look at me and I turned to face him. “Now before you say anything I know I should be thinking about this but I have. My aunt and uncle don’t even live remotely close to me so there’s nothing really tying me to New York. And also, I was—hoping that now that Queen’s done with touring for now, maybe you and I could……spend more time together.”

“I would like that very much.” He said with a warm smile. “I just hope you aren’t doing all this just for my sake. Like I told you before, I’m willing to go at your own pace.”

“And I thank you for that Roger. Truly I do. But…..I gotta stop giving into this anger that’s been festering up inside of me. After all you didn’t know about my mom being pregnant when she left you. And—I guess I just need some time away from home.”

“If you need a place to stay until you get on your feet. Or for even longer than that I will not say no to it. You can stay with Sarina and I. We’ve got more than enough rooms.”

“Thanks……..dad.” he looked at me surprised and he said.

“You—you actually called me…..”

“I figured it was about time I did so. I—hope I didn’t make things….”

“No, no, no, no, no not at all love.” He hesitantly reached up towards my face before he finally placed it up against my cheek. I closed my eyes and leaned into his palm. “God. You’re—the perfect mixture of both your mother and myself.”

“You know, Daveed always teased me about just how much I looked like you when you were in drag for the I want to break free music video.” He laughed.

“Oh god that was a fun day on set. Probably one of my favorite videos to shoot.” I smiled softly at him and leaned up against his shoulder and said.

“Do you think they would’ve liked me? John and Freddie I mean.” I felt Roger sigh heavily and he said as I felt his arms wrap around me.

“There’s no doubt in my mind Freddie would’ve tried to spoil you. And John, I’d bet he’d be trying to turn you against me.” I softly chuckled and embraced my dad and nuzzled my head into his shoulder.

The two of us hugging each other finally sitting together as a real father and daughter.

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k-writer1998 · 3 years

Text

Who Said Love Was Easy (9/12)

There are many different kinds of people who come and go from your life. Some will stay constant and sturdy like a river, growing alongside you, others will come like a whirlwind who wreaks havoc and leaves just as quickly, then there is everything in between. In this twisted maze of connections, that is where our story begins. A steadfast boy, a girl with a past, a little bit of alcohol, mistakes, and some love. Where can you go wrong with that?

angsty fluff

w.c: 1.5k

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

“I don’t know. I mean it's a good thing that my grandma is actually caring about me now right? But why do I have a bad feeling about it?”

“She’s an old woman who lost her only son. You learn things after someone dies, one of them is who was truly genuine and who had ulterior motives. From what I know she was the nicer few of the bunch to begin with, what’s wrong with her finally treating you like her own? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Well yeah but that was when my dad was still alive and my life wasn’t such a mess. I feel like this is just some calm for yet another storm to hit me.”

“Hey now, your life hasn’t been that bad.”

“Changbin. I was practically kicked out and for the first six months I was mooching off of you until Aunt Hyorin found me an affordable place. I couldn’t live off of the money I was left forever so I had to start working on top of going to school. My life has been living by solving one problem after the next. Now I’m set for university with my scholarships AND my estranged grandmother wants to love me? Too many “good” things are happening lately, something is bound to go wrong.”

“Stop being such a pessimist. Is it wrong to finally get what you deserve, a good life?”

“Optimism doesn’t keep you alive my friend. Pessimism is what allows me to still be sane even after all of that.”

“And this is why I’m taking you out drinking. You need to loosen up and unwind. Life doesn’t ever follow a set path so why worry when it hasn’t happened yet, especially when you have so many back up plans for this unknown inevitable,” he joked as pushed me yet another drink once he noticed mine had finished.

“Well last I checked, when I tried last time you got mad at me.”

“Those are two completely different things. I said loosen up not go wild. You were challenging people to drinking contests and the loser paid for the drinks. I had to literally guard you from guys trying to cop a feel at your drunk ass and don’t get me started on what happened when I took you home and accidentally put your code in at your neighbor’s door.”

“Okay the whole thing with Jaehyung-oppa was completely your fault. I’ve lived there for how long? And you still mistook his apartment for mine?”

“Well I’m sorry I was tired after having to drag your drunk self around as you whined and tried to fight me to let you stay out longer.”

“But hey, I never lost.”

“Half the guys let you win cause every time you did you would jump around and hug them before rubbing it in their face,” he rolled his eyes.

“Fine, yet here you are taking me to drink once again so why are you questioning me?”

“This time isn’t one of your patterns though so we’re safe. Last time was pattern two because your brother-”

“Ah- we are not speaking about that or I will go back into pattern two just to spite you,” I warned. “Now if you’ll excuse me I need to use the restroom.”

I know Changbin is trying, he’s watched me fall apart after my brother who I thought was my only ally in that family iced me out like the rest of them. He was also beside me as I forced myself back up but I knew he could tell I wasn’t completely myself. All my motivation has since been drained and I’ve just simply been… living. Not like I didn’t have goals, it's just, I can see it within reach yet my feet refuse to move towards it as if they’ve rooted themselves to the ground beneath me. As I came back, Changbin was nowhere to be found and the bartender let me know he had stepped out to take a call. With a sigh I slumped back into my seat at the bar as I ordered a new drink. It felt like time ticked slowly as I waited for Changbin to come back. My eyes scanned the room, taking note of a few interesting characters until I noticed someone approaching. From the look in his eye and the sleazy smile on his face, his intentions were very clear. I immediately stood and made my way over to the first person at the bar that I saw alone and called out immediately.

“OMG is that you?! I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“I’ve never met you before though?” the boy mumbled.

“I’m sorry but please work with me. That guy over there is making me uncomfortable,” I dropped my voice so only he can hear, “you can just continue to mumble to yourself, don’t mind me. ”

“ By myself? But my friends were just-”

He moved his head around as if he had just noticed his friends were no longer there. Well the place was crowded and he wasn’t there earlier so my guess is that they got separated by accident and no offense but thank god for that. Casting a glance I could tell the guy wasn’t buying it so I turned to talk to the boy in front of me yet again.

“So what’s up with you that your friends took you out and let you get this wasted?”

“It’s nothing big, I just can’t get over a girl…”

“What was it? Break up? Rejection?”

“Neither, I can’t even tell her I like her to begin with but now I can’t because she has a boyfriend. Not like she would consider me anyways.”

“Well you seem like a decent person so I don’t see why she shouldn’t but tell me about her. I’ll give you a girl’s perspective. ”

I wasn’t planning to be so invested in our conversation but there was something about him that had me so captivated. I mean yeah he was my type but then there was how his features softened, and there was this sparkle in his eyes when he spoke about this girl… In the midst of it all I got a text from Changbin, teasing me for “going after a guy” while he was away and told me he’ll be waiting back at our seats. On the other hand, the boy had poured out his history with this girl, from their odd meeting to his inevitable downfall into love. There were ghosts of facts about himself as well but never enough to build a full picture of his character. Although his main focus this whole conversation was this mystery girl… above all reason, I started to have a crush on this boy. Dumb, I know. My heart literally chose to play the fool in this story. It’s just… There is something about how he talked and the starry look and the gentle smile and then my brain just kinda went “I wish he looked at me like that” and then I hated myself for doing this to myself. Luckily not long after my brain had realized, his friend had found him and apologized before dragging him back to his group, leaving me to go back to Changbin.

“Wait so you knew all that when you met me again? That’s fraud you said you could just tell.”

“I can just tell. That night you weren’t really descriptive when you talked about her, you were a little too into the “woe is me” thing so all you really said was that she was pretty,” I rolled my eyes. “So when your eyes practically followed her every move during your shift, I was able to connect the dots.”

“And after knowing that you still chose to have a… crush… on me?”

It felt foreign to hear it from him himself. I’m usually the one bringing it up, it’s weird to see him acknowledge it for once. Seeing how careful he is about bringing it up, can I say that we’re close enough that he cares about my feelings? Wait no. Okay y/n let’s not be pathetic now. You are better than that. No need to grasp at crumbs.

“It wasn’t really a choice. I think you can agree with me on this, it was more like a virus. You just kinda plagued my mind that night and you never left after that.”

“I literally just talked about Gahyeon though, you didn’t hear anything about me unless you’re not telling me something. ”

“I told you everything but there is something called reading between the lines, you wouldn’t get it,” I answered. He doesn’t need to know that the love in his eyes sparked me back to life because I wanted to feel like that about something or someone again. I smiled at him and jokingly added, “But I will say I liked you from that night but after getting to know you I really~ like you now. ”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids au #skz #skz imagines #skz au #yang jeongin #jeongin imagines #jeongin au #server! jeongin x regular! y/n #my writing #wslwe?

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littlerockerao3 · 4 years

Note

Rock-a-roo! Plot bunny! Throbb where they’re married with a kid who’s technically heir to both the north and the islands, conflict ensues!

You’re seriously gonna end up making me change my username into that (that is, if you’re the same anon) lol. Anyway, i love this, thank you, I had to write something out of it, hope you like it! (I have no idea how to write conflict though, so this is basically following half of the plot bunny but let’s just... yeah i don’t know)

Disclaimer: I don’t think somebody in Westeros could ever come up with the idea of a surrogate mum, so let’s just leave how Robb and Theon had their kids up to whatever theory you prefer, since this just implies they have kids, not how they got them.

“House Mormont?” Robb stared at his daughter as she chewed on her applecake, her brown eyes looking uncertain and somehow guilty.

Robb snorted - he was about to reproach her, when his husband rolled his eyes, as he dragged their youngest baby into his lap, and spoke up: “Oh come on, even I know the answer to that!”

Aris scoffed, and rolled her eyes as well: she looked so much like her father it almost hurt.

“My lesson with the Maester is in a few hours, I don’t need you to quiz me,” she said.

“And I know what’s their sigil, it’s... a bear?” well, that definitely sounded more like a question than an answer, but at least she got it right. Although...

“Your aunt and uncle are lady and lord of Bear Island, how could you not know that?” Robb poured himself a glass of wine: it was early in the morning but sometimes his kids exhausted him, especially his twelve year old daughter, since she resembled way too much of her other father’s antics.

“I do know that!” Aris exclaimed, violently sticking another piece of applecake with her fork.

“But it’s not like it would have been a big deal if I didn’t, I mean, I’m not the heir of The North,” she mumbled.

“The North and the Iron Island darling, do not forget that,” Theon added, pointing a finger at her. Aris literally stabbed her applecake with the fork, staring at her father as if to say ‘not you too’, which was understandable: Theon never really cared less about his kids (nor himself) learning house sigils and mottos. Though this time, his native lands were involved, and he had to point that out, he had to remind his kids (and himself, most of all) how he managed to get to rule the Islands, no matter what his father had always thought of him.

Rowan, their youngest, a little redhead who barely turned one, laughed at his sister’s face and clapped his hands. Aris just grunted, and turned around the moment she heard the echoes of footsteps coming into the hall, her black braids flying around like a whip.

“There he is, our heir! Dad, why don’t you ask him what’s House Tyrell’s motto?” she exclaimed, welcoming her older brother with a wide sarcastic smile on her face.

Robb could swear he could read his fifteen year old son’s thoughts, only by the expression on his face: he would have gladly thrown a sausage at his sister’s head but he was quite aware that if he dared doing so, his dads would have grounded his ass until the day he would have had to sit on the throne.

“It’s ‘Growing Strong’, sweet sister” he said simply, sitting down next to her.

“And who knows, maybe I’ll die young and you’ll have to take my place,”

Robb risked choking on his wine at that. He started coughing and his face turned as red as his hair. Still trying to go back to breathing in a normal way, he stared at his husband, silently asking him for help.

Theon just rolled his eyes, and stared at his firstborn in exasperation: “You’re not going to die young, Arrow, do not say that: your father might have a heart attack and you’ll have to sit on your beloved throne sooner than you’d wish” he replied.

Arrow just shrugged, a few lock of his black curls falling on his forehead, right above his blue eyes: “Well, you never know, someone might want to try and kill the heir to the North and the Iron Islands and...”

“They’ll have to go through me, first,” Robb claimed, his voice still a little raspy, as he poured himself a glass of water, leaving the wine aside, no matter how much he would have wanted to drink another glass (or a whole bottle): the thought of someone trying to hurt his kids got him mad, most of the times. He would have gone through the Seven Hells and back as long as he could keep his children safe and pretty much everyone in his kingdom knew that: that was why they better think twice before trying to kill his son.

“And me,” Aris said, folding her arms. Theon stared at her in adoration, as he did most of the times. Rowan clapped his tiny chubby hands once again. Arrow just rubbed his index fingers over his temples: “First thing I’m doing as a King will be abdicating and making Aris my heir”

Theon chuckled: “It’s not that easy, sweet thing: otherwise we would have been under Queen Sansa’s reign by now”

“Well, she’s still your Hand” Aris pointed out.

Arrow smirked: “Plus, we all know dad accepted to be King so that he could come up with a law that allowed you both to get married.”

Theon raised his index finger, but it took him a moment before he started talking: “Fair point. But we could have just asked Sansa and she would have made that law for us,”

Robb smiled lightly: his decision to allow any kind of wedding had been delightefully appreciated by most of their people: Robb had no idea there were so many other people like he and Theon, people who had fallen in love with the ‘wrong’ person. That rule had made their kingdom happier, stronger, surrounded by peace and harmony. Robb was sure his son would have made sure it stayed that way. Being a King, especially at a young age, wasn’t easy, and the gods only knew how much Robb was aware of that. But with Arrow it would have been different: Robb would have taught him all he had learnt during all those years, he wanted to make sure his kid never found himself ruling a kigndom all of sudden, with no idea what to do, as it had happened to him.

He went back focusing his attention on his son’s words: “Please, we all know you wanted to brag about you and dad being the first King & King in history,” he said.

“But guess what, I couldn’t care less about being King, just let Aris be the heir already”

Aris stomped her foot behind the table: “I do not want to be Queen, I want to be captain of the guard like aunt Arya or master of ships like aunt Asha!” she cried out.

Arrow rolled his blue eyes, the same shade as Robb’s, and filled his plate with sausages: “Yeah of course. It’s easy for you. You’re not the firstborn, and you’re still too young to understand what it’s like. Wait until the Maester starts bothering the hell out of you about marriage,”

That word made the young girl blush violently. The shade of red on her cheeks was so bright her tanned skin looked pale, compared to it. She dropped her fork, it landed on the plate, above the applecake, and tiny little pieces of apple spread all around. Aris stood up from her chair, not even bothering to ask to be excused (these are all Theon’s genes, mother would have skinned me if I dared acting like that, Robb thought).

“I think I’ll go... to the godswood. Yeah, I think I’ll go praying” she said.

Arrow’s lips turned into a smirk that could have easily competed with Theon’s: “Yeah sure, or are you gonna go meet the stableman’s son? You two seem to be good friends”

Robb thought his kid got to be kidding, but when Aris’ blush deepened, he frowned so hard he almost hurt himself: “Wait what?” he snapped, staring at his kids in shock.

“As I said” Aris mumbled, avoiding looking into her parents’ eyes. “The godswood. I’m going. Bye, see you later,”

Theon’s laughter echoed all over the room. Robb would have gladly smacked his head on the table, but he still had to calm down from the shock knowing his little girl could already have a love interest caused him.

“Grandma’s probably praying by the godswood right now, I wouldn’t go there, if you don’t want her to ask you about houses’ mottos too,” Theon told their daugther, loud enough for her to hear him even from the other side of the room. Aris didn’t turn to answer, but she gestured nervously: “Yeah, I’ll just go training then”

Robb saw Theon’s face lighting up and one second later, little Rowan was sitting on his lap.

“Wait for me, I can help you, you still don’t know how to hold the bow the right way!” Theon got up with such urge he almost flipped his chair and stumbled three times in a row.

Aris gasped dramatically: “How dare you!” she yelled.

Robb and Arrow exchanged an exasperated look, as they both shook their heads. They were alone now. Well, Rowan was there too, his curly little red head turning around, his eyes staring curiously at everything and his tiny little body staying still only thanks to Robb’s firm hand wrapped around his chubby hips. But he was still far too young to understand what they were saying.

Robb extended a hand over the table for his oldest kid to hold. Once he did, he squeezed it lovingly: “You’re gonna be a good king,” he told him.

Arrow smirked sadly: “Do I really have to be the King, though?”

Robb sighed, and squeezed his hand a little harder: “You won’t have to worry about sitting on the throne for a long time, sweet child of mine. Just take it easy, okay? When the moment comes, it’s going to be up to you to decide what to do. But until then, I’ll teach you all I’ve learnt.”

Arrow’s muscles relaxed a bit, his smile softened, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness.

Robb smiled as well. He stood up, carrying little Rowan on his hips, and walked to the other side of the table, so that he could reach out and squeeze his son’s shoulder: “Make sure you finish your breakfast soon: uncle Jon is coming in a few, and he wants to train you with the sword.”

Arrow snorted, and covered his face between his hands: “Damn, he’s gonna kick my ass”

Robb laughed heartedly, and ruffled his oldest son’s hair. Yes, Jon would have definitely kicked his ass. And he would have attended the whole show, Rowan still in his arms, Satin standing next to him, as he filled him in on how his and Jon’s lives were going, while Theon and Aris would have practiced with bow and arrows nearby, the young girl screaming happily at every time she hit the target, and Robbb’s huband’s laughter spreading all around their kingdom.

#throbb #theon x robb #the tiniest hint of lyckon and jonsatin #both robb and theon are king in the north and the islands #mr & mr greyjoy-stark are happy married and with three kids #i was sooooo looking forward writing about my headcanon throbb kids!#ask #anon #plot bunnies #though this time i actually wrote something!#hope you enjoy #i accidentally wrote ‘maester luwin’ lol sorry maester but you’d have to be immortal to be alive when throbb’s kid is fifteen #edit: i fixed that #this won’t show in the throbb tag uuuuuuuuugh #parents throbb

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zukofenty · 4 years

Text

always be my maybe

➜ Summary: The one where Zuko and Katara could never quite get their timing right. Especially when the universe throws a lost condom, thousands of miles, and a baby in their way.

“I will literally french braid my pubic hairs and never open my pussy to anyone ever again if this condom doesn’t kill me. Please don’t let it kill me.”

➜ Genre: Modern!AU, Celebrity Chef!Katara, Doctor!Zuko, Love, Rosie!AU

AO3 @zutaraweek

“Go a couple rounds, leave Zuko’s dick up in a casket!” Toph screams into the microphone, undeterred by the various guests who stare up at her, mouth open and half-chewed, dry-as-fuck chicken spilling out. It wasn’t her fault, really! As soon as Zuko handed the mic off to her, he basically gave her free reign to spit a Megan Thee Stallion verse in his honor. “Sing with me, bitches! Look up the lyrics on Genius.com, Cheryl!”

“Sit down !” Katara squeezes out from clenched teeth, ripping the device out from the girl’s grip.

“I didn’t even get to the chorus, you fucking whore .” A bridesmaid nervously plucks the mic from their table and avoids eye contact with both of them. “What’s going on with you, bitch?” Toph asks quietly. She could tell Katara’s been doing her fake smile for the last twenty minutes. The girl was practically going to break her face open with how hard she was grinding her teeth.

“Just thinking.” Katara wants to smack herself in the face, pinch a nipple and bring herself to reality. Everything felt too real, and Toph could sense it. She’s the type to somehow sense when Katara shifts in her seat a certain way to covertly satisfy a cooch itch, and then buys her Monistat the same day.

She hates that she could never hide any emotion from her. Toph could always figure out the puzzle pieces that were Katara. One of the few to know the real her, besides Zuko.

Sometimes Katara thinks the younger girl knows her better than him. At least now. Especially now.

“About?” Toph takes an experimental sip from the wine glass, and gags. The juice tasted like Gatorade and cum. “Why the fuck would anyone want a dry wedding? Weddings are the only time you get to see your alcoholic uncle vomit all over the bride’s shoes, and then your closeted aunt has to wipe up the puke and her reputation from the floor while thinking of her secret girlfriend at home watching Tiger King .”

“That example was extremely specific and extremely unnecessary.” Katara brushes a crunchy curl, doused in hairspray, from her eyes.

“Sorry, I got distracted. I had dick on the brain, or whatever Rihanna said,” Toph mumbles, risking a bite of the chicken.

Katara turns to see him at the couple’s table in the center of the extravagant wedding, and sighs. “And for your information, I was just thinking when will he penetrate my esophagus? You know, just girly things.”

Toph has the gall to slap the girl on the cheek.

Katara holds her stinging face, eyes narrowed in an unspoken threat for fucking up the parts of her face she didn’t set with powder (she was going for a dewy look, sue her). “Not fair! You were the one who called my throat the baby chute earlier today!”

“Ok, throat goat. One, he’s getting married. Two, you’re sick.”

“My therapist will most likely cosign that,” Katara sighs. Toph holds Katara’s hand and leans her head on her shoulder as they watch Zuko mingle with guests.

This is the happiest day of his life.

Her best friend of twenty odd years was getting married. He looked so handsome, so happy. A suit that looked like it would cost someone’s rent and a half casually hugging his muscular frame. A blinding smile on his face, cheeks flushed from champagne and excitement.

When he turns her way, his smile grows impossibly wider. Toph clinks on a champagne glass with a fork, breaking it a la Princess Diaries , and Katara could feel the stares of nearly everyone in the room, ready for her speech.

It should be the happiest day of my life, too.

Right?

Katara thinks she wants to cry.

Now, how come none of those Judy Blume, coming-of-age books have a chapter on how to write a Best Woman speech for your best friend getting married to another woman, even when you were struggling with the fact that you might have been in love with him for the past two decades?

Bitch, what the fuck do you even start that Google Doc with?

Does she start at 4 years old? When Katara thinks Zuko is an annoying piece of shit?

But, you know, he’s her piece of shit.

Guys have hepatitis, or cooties, or whatever Sokka said, she couldn’t exactly remember. All she remembered was Zuko sucked. He stole her crayons and made fun of her Hello Kitty backpack on the first day of school. He was the stupid one, not Hello Kitty . Never Hello Kitty . She’d shoved his face into the playground’s wood chips, threatened to cut off his peepee for breathing down her neck with his retainer breath, and even stuck his head in between two slices of white bread and lovingly referring to him as an ‘idiot sandwich’ (Sokka let her watch too many Gordon Ramsey hosted shows while their dad was working late).

Zuko and Katara were practically inseparable ever since.

Or 10, when you were asking for trouble if you fucked with Zuko.

He was a tiny kid, glasses too big for his head. Hair shaggy, clothes too oversized for him (just the way he liked it). His dad had tried beating it into him that it showed weakness by not making waves, not being loud and proud. But, he was quiet by nature. For him, it was just easier.

Not stirring the pot, being the observer, looking in from the outside. He was just Zuko , he liked Wonder Woman comics and figuring out what other words besides BOOBIES he could spell with his calculator instead of actually doing his math homework, because he was bad at math. Bad at everything, really. Everything but band class. Even if he did hate that stupid fucking tsungi horn.

His mom would hide his report cards from his dad, especially the ones noting how shy he was (Mrs. Kim had used the exact words ‘very antisocial, very easy to bully’). Even when Ursa would ask him to try, try to make friends outside of Katara, he was always a stubborn little thing. Something you got from your father , she would say, the smile slipping off her face just the slightest.

It was just more fun being by himself, the only exception he made was Katara. He spent his recess scribbling down a plot for a Love Amongst the Dragons Fanfiction and listening to Katara’s iPod he’d steal from her, just because he could , after she snuck it out from her backpack for the 10 minute break they had. It was the iPod she spent the last two Christmases saving up with Sokka for. Zuko insisted he could master Ludacris’s rap in Usher’s “Yeah!” and practiced the Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays she had custody of the device.

Some days, Katara would sit beside him in her signature puffy blue jacket, struggling to fold herself to fit on the blacktop beside Zuko. The patented jacket her grandmother forced her to wear every single day obstructing her abilities. He snickers, but keeps quiet, content with plotting out a story that he would hopefully get to type out on the school library’s computers if his mom picked him up late again. She usually did, much to the dismay of the ladies at the front office. They typically hissed at him (which made him cry, to which they would have to offer him a cherry Otter pop so they wouldn’t face a lawsuit) and called his mom words he couldn’t repeat without getting in trouble (“Whore”).

Katara would babble on about her day, sometimes thinking of ways for his characters to die a painful death, or cooking up Fanfic plots for Beyoncé and Britney Spears to find love among the chaos of a zombie infestation. She always insisted she brought the creative range to their friendship. Some days though, Katara forgets all about him and plays handball with all the most popular girls in school.

Zuko’s jealous.

(Sometimes.)

She’s my best friend! He wants to scream in their faces. At the end of the day, he thinks he’s going to lose her. The day she realized she was too good, too cool for the likes of him.

“Chan, stop it!” Zuko squeaked, his notebook snatched from underneath his nose. The boy was always picking a fight. Your dad buys you a Motorola flip phone and suddenly you think you’re the shit.

The boy sneers at Zuko, flipping through the pages. “What do we have here? Are you drawing Shrek with boobies? You’re gonna jack off to that later, freak?”

Before Zuko could get a word in and defend his honor, Chan’s entire body was shoved to the ground, a dainty foot cased in a light up, white Skechers sneaker pressing into his face. Zuko couldn’t help his glee as Katara could barely be peeled off and stopped from repeatedly slamming Chan’s face into the hopscotch chalk court. “It’s all ogre now, bitch!”

She made sure to pin her detention slip to her Bratz backpack with pride. Zuko buys two treats that day from the student store before he walks her home.

“You’re my best friend, forever and ever,” Katara declares, head held up high. Zuko saw through it, though. He knows she’s scared of what Hakoda has to say, what Gran Gran has to say. So, he holds her hand tight, trying to relay his gratitude in the touch.

He licks at his Spongebob popsicle. The eyes had melted off and looked more like someone’s worst nightmare than an icy treat. Katara had wanted his cherry Otter pop, and he happily handed it over. “Pinky promise?” He holds out his finger.

Katara hooks her finger around his, dwarfing his tiny digit. Her outstretched smile stained orange. “I’ll break yours if you ever forget.”

At 15, Katara came to the realization that men have the emotional intelligence of a Souplantation crouton (may Souplantation rest in peace).

Growing up, with their dad and grandma always at work at their store, Katara was always in charge of cooking. No matter how many times she’d try to get Sokka to do it, he always insisted he was far too busy with taking out the trash, killing bugs, hating women. So, she was stuck with it, and honest-to-Rihanna, really liked it. Not that she’d ever let Sokka ever get the satisfaction of knowing it. It was her time to be alone, gave her the space to pop in a Cheetah Girls CD and pretend she won Masterchef with the struggle meal straight out of a Spam can she had to pound on a few times to get it to squeeze out from its gelatinous casing, or a whitewashed recipe she tried replicating whenever she catches a Rachael Ray rerun.

Though, Katara’s favorite time was chopping up the green onions under Ursa’s careful eyes, a hand always just there in realign the knife just in case she’d carelessly cut the green onions too big to garnish. Then, Ursa would then take out scissors because nobody had time for that. When his dad wasn’t home, Zuko’s mom opened up their doors across the street to the siblings, rambling about the next big painting she was planning as they scarfed down a home cooked meal.

Zuko was similar to his mom in that regard. They were the type of people who managed to make everyday moments larger-than-life, made it infectious, too. When it’s nighttime and he’s snuck into and snug in Katara’s room, he’d tell her dreams too big for anyone’s comprehension. Sometimes he dreamed he had tits that would leak chunky chicken noodle soup. Sometimes he’d ramble until her eyes are flitting shut and he’s left talking to himself and measuring his hand with hers, securing the leg she instantly throws over his waist. He’d like to think he was her only exception in the Souplantation crouton narrative.

Her bed is starting to smell like him, too. His favorite Costco brand shampoo and conditioner that he leaves in her bathroom, permeating her nostrils when she pulled him close. She even let him put up a Drake poster right next to her plethora of Rihanna ones, but only after he let her draw a penis on both his and Drake’s face. What he didn’t account for was her using a permanent marker, or the fact he couldn’t scrub it away from his cheeks for the next two days.

It was easy like this, just the two of them.

He’s there for all the birthdays and Halloweens and Christmases that left her not quite feeling whole. When things were hard, when things fucking sucked, when she wanted nothing more but to die. He was there, (stupidly) holding out his hand and willing to be the eye to her hurricane.

At 15, Zuko decides Katara feels home.

At 18, Zuko had already been Katara’s many firsts.

He was her first buffet partner, and brought back his Justin Bieber haircut just to pretend he was 12 so they could qualify for children's rates and a complimentary Oreo cheesecake because they were always celebrating his “birthday.”

Her first clubbing partner the second she turned 18, rubbing her back when any Beyoncé song with a Jay-Z feature came on because the second he cheated on Beyoncé, he cheated on everyone in the Beyhive. The first one to have to hold her as she hurled on his shoes, the first one to have to take her to get her stomach pumped.

The first person she tried to roll a joint with.

“I don’t need to learn that.”

Katara purses her lips. “And why not?”

He gestures to his face. “I’m too pretty. Only ugly bitches know how to do that . ”

Sokka thinks he needs to intervene when he hears Zuko’s tsungi horn case being chucked across the room .

The first person she (almost) fucked.

His family life was, for lack of a better word, fucked up. Katara had been witness to the drinking, the drugs, the crying. The nights where she sometimes didn’t know if the person standing in front of her was Zuko. She just wanted one night away from it all, just one night out on the town.

“That was kind of terrible,” Katara admits easily, wincing because she was sure he spilled Papa John’s garlic dipping sauce in his shitty Corolla’s air filter last Tuesday. He tried positioning his arm naturally underneath her head while their half naked bodies were pressed together, but he ended up smacking off her glasses. He even had the audacity to contently sigh as though he accomplished something, rather than just tangle her hair and give her a tension headache.

She felt lied to! Cheated! Bamboozled! Hoodwinked! All the Shrek and Y/N stories on FF.net could not prepare her for the fact that there weren’t any tongues fighting for dominance, or any mouths that tasted like cinnamon or musk or shit like that. It was just retainer to retainer and smelled distinctly of her awkward friend (cheese). It was sweaty and a lot of weird humping and felt like a visit to the gyno.

“Hey! I thought it was pleasantly average.” He clears his throat. “You know, besides the fact you farted mid-insertion and I started crying after 20 seconds.”

“You mean right after you came, right?” She says matter-of-factly.

He glared. “Is it my fault you have a gorilla grip pussy? Is it?”

“Zuko, you’re so fucking — ”

“What happens when you put a hot dog in the microwave for 2 minutes?” He crosses his hands and folds them over his lap like a professor waiting for a volunteer to answer the equation on the board.

“So in this metaphor, are you calling my pussy a microwave?”

But in true Zuko and Katara fashion, it was clumsy and a mess and could be erased with an emergency Burger King outing where they ate in silence and pinky promised never to speak of it again.

She wonders if Zuko should’ve been her first date to prom, too.

She wants to stop feeling so bothered . She couldn’t quite pin it, but lately everything he did frustrated the shit out of her. How he was taller than her now. How he didn’t need her to fight his battles because he goes to the gym now and wears a fake Gucci belt because he’s just so cool (brooding Asian guy is the trend, and Zuko thinks he’s the blueprint). How he said yes to going to prom with Mai, the prettiest girl in their grade.

“Don’t look in there!” Katara yelps, a blush creeping on her cheeks.

“Why?” Zuko questions, taken aback. He was entirely too comfortable in her room.

“Um. Maybe I don’t want a freak going through my dirty underwear pile!” Her eyebrows are halfway done, and she only has one eyelash glued on. She was stressed, scared her dress might not fit with how many of Sokka’s cookies she stress-ate because she just wanted the night to be perfect .

“Relax, what are a few discharge stains going to do to me, huh? If anything, it gives your pussy some much-needed personality.” Zuko wasn’t going to stop until he found his fake Gucci belt in Katara’s closet.

“Zuko!” Katara screams at the top of her lungs.

“Do I have to remind you about the time you broke our friendship bracelet while masturbating and I dug the bead out of your vagina like the good friend I am?”

She shoves him back from the closet, crowding in his space. That belt was going to remain in its rightful place. “Oh, fuck you! I took the fall for you when you opened your laptop in history class and forgot to exit from your “VIBRATING PANTIES” porn tab!” She pushes him before plopping on her bed.

Katara buries her face in her pillow at that point, too entirely embarrassed and body too hot to continue to look at his nonchalant face. He doesn’t quite remember when exactly Katara became so cute .

Pretty? Definitely. Fearless? For sure.

But blushing Katara, embarrassed Katara, cute Katara?

He thinks it’s because they rarely saw each other now, despite his patented place in her bed. His band, Hello Zuko, was aiming for at least a few dive bar performances to build a reputation, especially with their new title track “Tennis Ball.” Katara was a familiar face at their town’s soup kitchens.

“Where are you going?” he would sleepily mumble as he tried taking his midday nap before late night performances.

Katara’s hands are full with ingredients, swaying side to side and eyes red and drowsy. “Trying to temper chocolate. Why? What’s up?”

She never misses a performance, though. Comes to them with a sparkly poster doused in glitter, and t-shirts with his face on them and everything. He never misses a fundraising event, making sure to bring a steaming thermos filled with tea because Katara was never the type to remember to take care of herself, and always buys out her fundraising goodies (even her overbaked brownies.)

He pulls her up by her ponytail, cupping her face in between his hands.

“You look cute.”

“You look like the human equivalent of toeless socks,” Katara mumbles, face squished in between Zuko’s hands. “Why are you giving my clit piercing a kiss kiss right now? What do you want?”

Zuko shakes her head in between his hands. “Pinky promise me you’ll drop all penises to dance with me if they play any Usher song?” It was like he was in fifth grade all over again. “Call me a Nissan because I just want you Altima-self.”

She lets out a cackle, the sound nearly deafening. “Don’t worry, the DJ will get us falling in love again in no time.”

“Do you have to go with Jet?” He asks, pouting. He lays his head in her lap, too entirely preoccupied with picking at her pilling sweatpants to look at her questioning eyes. They promised they were going to be each others’ dates at the beginning of the school year. It was more fun going to dances with Katara. She knew how to do the worm and every lyric to every Rihanna song out there (but she refuses to sing any with Chris Brown parts).

“What? You know I like my men stupid.” She runs her hands through his locks, undoing the crunchy gel job that Iroh had painstakingly spent time on. Zuko didn’t have the heart to tell him it made him look like a youth pastor.

“You do like your communal meat thermometers.” He wants to keep the hurt out of his voice.

She shoves him off her, getting up to put on the dress hanging off her closet’s door handle. “You’re going with Mai, remember?” She yells through the closed closet door.

“But the thing is, I’m not planning to fuck her afterwards at the shitty hotel like it’s some type of CW show with some old bitches playing teenagers!”

“Just say XOXO, Gossip Girl .”

He still resents her for getting him invested in Blair Waldorf’s headband collection. “It’s not my fault Jet looks old. He looks like he’s at least 27 for fuck’s sake!” His face grows more distressed as he spits out each word. He only said yes to going with Mai after finding out Jet asked Katara using some shitty poster that said “my heart is always running when I see you” with a box of Nike outlet sneakers after English class.

“I think you’re just jealous that I emptied my intestines for someone who is about to be in it within the next three hours. When have I ever done that for you?”

Zuko’s about to retort something until Katara slams open the door, flooding his eyes with a dusty blue, curve hugging dress that did weird things to him. Like make his heart beat out of his chest, and his throat all dry when he’s searching for the words to say. Looking for the right words that say he thinks it’s impossible someone’s smile could make sunsets brighter, make the stars twinkle even more, make the unthinkable just a fingertip’s grasp away.

“Can you see the outline of my underwear and/or desperation from the back?” Her spin has him bumbling like an idiot.

He wishes it was Katara that night. Letting him shyly press his sweaty fingers into her waist as Katy Perry’s “E.T.” pierced their eardrums. He knows she would have pinched his nipples as punishment, all things considered. But the fluorescent lights of the disco ball would’ve highlighted how her pretty flush would dust her cheeks, and he would hold her close to his beating heart despite her complaining her foundation would stain his Target dress shirt, and everything would make sense.

“Did you cum?” Jet was absolutely pretty with an oh-so fat horse cock. Too bad he was like the Justin Timberlakes of the world, and always spoke unprovoked.

Katara scoffs. “Yeah, I came to my senses.” She flicked his forehead. “How would I do that? Tell me. How the fuck would a few thrusts and you panting your Sweet and Sour sauce breath in my ear get me off?” She shoves the sweating boy off her. “Can I say jk and will it make me a virgin again?” The hotel room had scratchy sheets and smelled like a waterpark bathroom.

He groaned. “I’m sorry .” He’s completely unremorseful. “Your tits smell like Cinnabon’s cinnamon rolls and I couldn’t help myself!” Katara is about to cut his dick off for breathing in the same vicinity as her, before a gasp stops her entire world.

“Zuko!” she screeches, opening the hotel door with the same devastation as when Britney Spears discovered Ryan Seacrest wasn’t gay painting her features.

“You know what they say.” Zuko’s smirking, entirely ignoring Katara fuming. “Chlamydia is the powerhouse of the cell.”

“You’re. A. Dick!” She says in between smacks to his head. Jet makes a speedy exit, still pantsless and clutching his suit to his chest, while Zuko mouths a ‘ call me’ to Mai, who amusedly waves goodbye to Katara.

“Oh god, this is exactly like the bead incident all over again.”

“ You’re not helping! ”

“Maybe we’ll find Atlantis up there too,” Zuko murmurs, concentrating on positioning the hotel’s mirror under her legs.

“Please, Rihanna. Have mercy on me.” Katara’s hands are in prayer mode as Zuko turns on his phone’s flashlight. “I will literally french braid my pubic hairs and never open my pussy to anyone ever again if this condom doesn’t kill me. Please don’t let it kill me. All those times I took an extra gummy vitamin were a joke . I never wanted to die, I just wanted to feel a little thrill in my life. Please—”

Zuko screams when the squelch of the condom splatters onto the mirror.

“You’re wearing underwear under there right?” He likes the look of his blazer draping over her, buttoned to look like a chic, oversized dress and not because it was the easiest thing to throw over Katara to run and grab Plan B.

“No, because I would obviously let my fat cooter out, cute and bare and vulnerable in a Walmart.”

“A simple yes would have sufficed.”

She’s reaching for the box and wincing at the price when she feels a gentle nudge on her arm. “Ma’am, your entire pussy is out in a Walmart,” the employee breathes out pathetically.

“I am well aware.” She ekes out.

The employee eyes her up and down with a gaze that practically calls her a whore . “Please put her away.” Zuko’s face grows beet red as he tries holding back a laugh.

It was always easy like this. When the world was just Zuko and Katara, holding hands in her driveway while they watched the sun rise in his shitty Corolla. She’s still wrapped up in his blazer, he’s since loosened his cheap tie and his hair is sticking every which way. She likes his smile, especially now that it comes so easy.

He’s smiling a lot more now that his father is gone. Ozai essentially told Azula and Zuko to fuck off , and ran off to some big city to steer a hospital with too many controversies and too many white guys at the helm. Iroh came back from his meditation sabbatical, enthusiastic to take care of the siblings. Zuko seems a lot happier with Iroh around, and even spends nights sleeping in his actual bed. (Katara’s a little hurt, but keeps that to herself).

She wishes she could bottle up these moments with Zuko up and just hold them in her hands. Moments when they were still young and curious and still had time to wait for life to figure itself out. She wants to find a way to make these a permanent fixture, instead of memories that would fade with age. “Let’s get out of here,” he offers up, eyes starry.

“Yeah?” She folds her knees up to her chest, and he taps her under her chin to level their gazes.

“ Republic City . We can make something out of lives. Medical school, culinary school. Get out of this shithole. Get away from our past.” His smile is contagious. “Best friends, forever and ever, right?”

She’s so pretty, her wide eyes sparkling as they take in the rays of sun. She returns his smile. “Best friends, forever and ever.”

Katara remembers how Ursa would say Zuko always dreamt too big, his heart always wanting so, so much .

“It’s a blessing, but more of a curse,” she would note, with the wisdom only mothers are capable of possessing. Sometimes, Katara selfishly thinks the day Ursa left hurt her more than it hurt Zuko. They were impossibly close, to the point where Zuko even had to intervene when Ursa started siding with Katara during their arguments (he knows in his heart his Mother’s Day macaroni portrait of her was better).

She would wonder how the world could let her live like this, dangling something she’s always wanted right in front of her face, only to snatch it away. Wonder if it was easier to die, than live with a hole in her heart that seemingly doubled in size overnight.

“Zuko, please look at me.”

He’s mad, she could tell. With his pout and the way he was forcibly trying to squeeze his eyes in a glare. He’s been sitting in the same spot in her bed, eyes trained on tutorials on how to convincingly persuade your doctor to give you an adderall prescription and “who bit Beyonce” conspiracy videos.

“Well, what if I just wanted you to respect my privacy! For the first time in 15 years! Maybe I needed space!” She yelps after twenty minutes of the silent treatment.

Zuko sends her a look that has her freezing up on the spot. “Katara, you had a whole baby .”

She felt thoroughly scolded, but she was stubborn. “And? What about it?”

“You had an entire one, and didn’t even bother to tell the godfather? When was I supposed to find out?”

Katara didn’t think that one through, to be honest. It was easy to forget, in between diapers that smelled like a fish sauce and an expired Vagisil smoothie, and balancing work. She lays down beside him, thoroughly exhausted after putting her little girl, Yue, down for a nap. “One, who made you the godfather? And two, I guess we’re just not close like that.”

“Look, I literally have your social security number memorized, and have practically given you a Pap smear. You really want to say ‘ we’re not close like that ?” He sends her a look that has her resolve faltering the slightest. “You did your pregnancy announcement like a Sailor Moon transformation sequence with before and after pictures of you being pregnant, and you didn’t think to fucking tell me?”

Katara gasps. “I had you blocked !”

“Azula’s a snitch!” He also got a glimpse of the photo of Katara in her hoe time dress that barely fit over her belly with the caption: how the mighty have fallen . He pauses, sucking in a breath of air for strength. The hurt flashes in his eyes and the only thing she could think to do was wrap him up in a familiar embrace.

At 19, Katara is so incredibly lost, and just wants her best friend by her side.

He’s busy, the summer before everything Republic City. Everytime she tries their house, Azula answers, rolling her eyes while clad in a Harry Styles shirt, because it’s a girl’s rite of passage to go through a One Direction phase and wear badly made merchandise from Hot Topic. He’s usually busy packing, or fucking Mai until she sounds like a car alarm during Fourth of July fireworks.

“Azula, no . You cannot kidnap Mai’s younger brother and trade him in for concert tickets to send a message.”

“Not even for floor ones?” Katara’s glare summed up her answer. “I used to look up to you,” Azula retorts, returning to her stan Twitter.

She waits, waits, waits. The moans keep coming and she just rolls her eyes. Her stomach churns, mainly because she thinks Mai called Zuko’s dick The Pussy Penetrator every time he hit her g spot (you know what, good for her). But also because her scholarship to the university was less than she expected, and Hakoda didn’t want to cosign on a loan. She just wanted her best friend to be there for her.

She feels sick, sick enough to vomit in one of Iroh’s plants, while Azula rubs small circles into her back.

“You should’ve swallowed,” Toph reminds, bundling Katara’s thick hair into a ponytail as the girl hurled up her California roll. She’s so exhausted, she even leans her head against the Walmart toilet bowl, five positive pregnancy tests tossed carelessly beside her.

“Think it’s too late for that,” Katara grits out. “What are you doing?”

The last thing she expected was Toph’s hands gathering together in prayer formation. “Praying to Rihanna your period comes.”

Like many people her age, having a mental breakdown during a pregnancy scare and praying for a miracle in a public restroom was normal. But for the first time in her life, besides the time Rihanna willingly twerked on Drake at the 2011 Grammys, Ms. Robyn Fenty herself failed her.

“Fetus deletus that bitch! Fuck them kids !” She brings herself eye-level to Katara’s stomach. “Read the womb, bitch!”

“Did you just call my unborn baby a bitch?” Katara’s eyes are bleary from the smell of vomit and her future going down the drain.

“You should’ve kept that bitch-baby in the drafts,” Toph sweeps the stray hairs from Katara’s watery eyes. “My cousin saved up for her abortion by running a pyramid scheme. I can get you her number.”

Katara wanted to die. “I think I’m just going to crawl in this toilet and die. Call my brother if I don’t get flushed down all the way.”

“Again, I’m just a Walmart employee,” Toph snickers, helping the girl up. She’s rarely left her side since then. Their friendship just works, a pair of fuckups. The girl with the accident baby, and the Walmart security guard trying to figure out her own shit after running away from home.

“I should’ve been there!” Zuko reminds, tone heavy with betrayal.

Katara remembered the few moments before he boarded the plane to Republic City. She wanted to be selfish. She wanted to tell him to not get on the flight, to keep holding her like he did at the entrance of the gate. She had a kiss ready on her lips that he wasn’t ready to give, backing away when their faces were too close, when she was too close. He just couldn’t bear the thought of leaving with regrets.

“I should’ve been there holding your hand, letting you call me names, and fighting nurses if they breathed too close to this precious angel,” Yue holds his pinky with her little fingers, almost as though it was a natural reaction. His heart simply seizes up at the gesture, and he holds her tighter to his body. She was wailing after waking from her nap, colic crackling her throat for the last three months and causing her middle of the night wakeups to be painful and frequent. But with Zuko, she’s all calm and perfect and polite and beautiful and angelic.

“Didn’t know you liked kids this much,” Katara shrugs. She leans in, and Zuko throws his free arm around her.

“I’ll have you know I am the resident expert in telling children’s stories,” Zuko insists.

“Like?” Katara quirks up her brow.

“Like Rumpleforeskin, the mythical man who can weave majestic golden fleece from the ends of his pubic hair.”

She smacks him upside the head. “You’re disgusting .” She curls in deeper into his embrace. He had that twinkle in his eye that could mean he was going to masturbate to this moment in the shower later, or he was in love. It renders her breathless every time

She hopes when he looks at her he doesn’t see the eye bags, or the titty milk leaking everywhere, or the permanent crease in her brow. She hopes he could still see her, underneath it all. When she was just Katara .

“I guess, not telling you was just my way of keeping our dream alive.” She pauses, stroking Yue’s barely there hair. “I keep thinking that one day I could find the time to go to Republic City, and I don’t know. Get a chance to just be me .”

“Do you regret it?” Zuko’s rubbing circles into her back until she gets sleepy and her heart feels too full.

“I don’t know.” She tries, quiet, almost ashamed. “I don’t know.”

At 21, Katara feels like she’s at the top of the world.

Not only did she get promoted from girl wearing a dumpling costume outside handing out 15% off coupons that only worked if you left a Yelp review, to a server in a shitty dim sum restaurant, she was also accepted in the culinary program at the local university. It wasn’t Republic City per say, but Yue could attend the nearby preschool and go to the university-run childcare program afterwards while Katara was working.

She even got a hold of Jet, who refused to disclose his location or job. But judging by the copious child support mandated by some judge who hated men as much as Katara did, he was doing well. He sometimes Venmos Katara a few extra dollars on Yue’s birthdays.

Sokka and Hakoda, while hesitant to the little girl’s presence early on, spoil her absolutely rotten. When they think Katara’s passed out after her 14 hour days, they’re red in the face, screaming at Zuko over the phone about who was going to get Yue the Peppa Pig Playhouse (complete with flashing lights) she always talks about.

Hakoda even tries at therapy, wanting to be there for the apple of his eye. Sometimes, Katara’s hurt he never tried for her, tried in her childhood. She’s happy for him, nonetheless.

(Mostly) everything was working out.

“How are both my girls doing?” Zuko would always sing-song during his nightly Facetime calls. Yue would scream and snatch the phone from Katara’s hands, delighted at the sound of her one and only Uncle Zuzu. He’s an extravagant gift giver, regularly sending Yue glittery Hello Kitty and Wonder Woman backpacks. He even buys her a whole iPad for her fourth birthday, already coming with child safe settings on and YouTube loaded with her favorites (namely, Barbie: Fairytopia ). He’s guilty he couldn’t come home, but then again, he rarely ever did. Too consumed with work, grad school applications.

Katara can’t help but feel her heart pulse the slightest bit faster during those calls, even if she shuts it down as quickly as it comes.

He’s so good to her .

She used to cherish those moments he used to tell her secrets, dreams, everything in those hours early in the morning before high school would start. With approximately 3,209 miles between the two of them, she wakes up to texts instead.

Zuko: I dreamed that I was being held at gunpoint by one of those thicc caterpillars from A Bug’s Life , and if I didn’t finish the MCAT in approximately 20 minutes, they would shoot me in the face. The dump truck ass of those ants were the bullets

Katara: Please block my number

Zuko: No. <3

He’s all gentle smiles and eyes squeezing into little half moons just like Yue’s after he plays a game of Facetime patty cake and messes up on the beat just to hear the little girl laugh.

The next month, Zuko had decided enough was enough . He missed his girl.

His hospital, for the first time in a year, was letting him have the weekend off. So he books Katara a ticket straight away, because he thinks he’s going to die if he has to be around people who don’t know who Megan Thee Stallion is.

“Boys only speak two languages. English and emotional manipulation,” Toph reprimands, hugging Katara so tight she could barely get in a word. “Please remember that.”

It was her first time leaving her hometown in her life, her first time on an airplane for God’s sake. She’s jittery though, the cushioned seats Toph somehow upgraded her ticket to (after covertly whispering with the gate attendant) doing nothing to alleviate her nerves.

When she jumps in his arms in baggage claim, he breathes in deep. Her hugs have always warmed his insides, and he didn’t realize how much he craved it until he was greedy, pressing into her and refusing to let go despite her many protests.

“Come here often?” he mumbles, smiling into her shoulder.

Her cheeks grew hot at his touch. “Occasionally.” She whispers back.

He decided there and then in front of Gate 3 they needed to make up for lost time as quickly as possible.

The college party is entirely too sticky, entirely too messy for a proper (extremely) late 21st birthday celebration. Her crop top and big earrings and glittery eyeshadow and endless curves has Zuko wondering how much he’s missed in the last few years. When she hugs him close to her and screams out Nicki Minaj lyrics, he doesn’t remember her being so soft and even prettier. Beautiful. Breathtaking, knocking the wind out his lungs if she as so much blinked.

She looks like any 21 year old, without a care in the world, just figuring out their life. He wonders what this version of Zuko and Katara was.

Maybe they got to go to Republic City together. Maybe they work in the same building, and are just letting steam off from work. Maybe they loved each other. It was dangerous though. He feels as though she’s caging him in, that grip on his heart sparking up again without his permission. Her fake lashes he saw her glue on in the airport bathroom flutter about, hands coming up to accentuate her words every time she tries to scream something in his ear over the pulsating music. He just grips her waist harder between his hands, holding her tight.

In a perfect world, all she saw was him. She wishes it was him. She sometimes thinks she sees Zuko’s eyes in Yue. She sees his smile. She sees his heart.

While they’d spent the entire night stumbling through the city, his girlfriend was home. Barefoot, pregnant. Looking like the cover of some women’s lifestyle magazine, stray curls escaping her bun to frame her face in all its angelic glory. Glowy and flawless and every bit beautiful. Different from the girl Katara caught crying in the kitchen. “You can hate me all you want, you can talk shit about me all you want. But I love him,” Jin insists. “I’m his girlfriend , for fuck’s sake.

Katara has to stop herself from recoiling. She had a specific vision of their future. One that included doing taxes together and matching sweaters and teaching him her new macaroon recipe and Yue balanced on his lap.

But one look at Jin, and it becomes glaringly obvious how little she fit in with his new life.

“I don’t hate you, Jin.” It’s every bit sincere, but the girl doesn’t look convinced.

Jin rolls her eyes. A pointed look freezing Katara in her place.

“Ok, I might’ve complained once or twice about your VSCO filter choice.”

“Yeah, Zuko sent a screenshot of your texts to me instead of you by accident.”

“God, you know he always fucking does that? To be fair though, M05 is too orange and is not a good look on anyone. You can do better, I know you can.” The two girls laugh. It was devoid of any genuine emotion, just meant as an attempt to fill the empty space between them. “If I had known. Fuck, if I had just known, I’m sorry, Jin.” She had no idea Zuko had a kid on the way, that they were still living together and determined to co-parent while their relationship was in a weird limbo. If she was Jin, she would’ve kicked someone’s pussy and made a scene and set something on fire. But Jin wasn’t that type of girl. Jin was soft and pretty and looked like she smelled like an interior designer's perfectly bleached asshole.

“Do you love him?” Jin seemed to shrink into herself, small enough Katara might miss her in a blink of an eye.

Katara couldn’t quite decipher the meaning behind the question. She thinks she’s too scared to.

Katara doesn’t know how to respond. She didn’t trust herself to speak. This Zuko wasn’t the Zuko she knew. She loved the Zuko who would steal people’s Netflix passwords off of 4chan, and cosplay as Todoroki at Anime Con to make a few bucks. Not the one who can afford sky rises in the big city.

He didn’t even tell her that his big internship in the city was for his father’s hospital, and he was next in line to running it. “You’re a lawyer with health insurance and your own Netflix account! You’re good for him, Jin.” Katara falters the slightest. “I just want to see Zuko happy.”

“Me too.” Jin says quietly.

“Whatever, fuck Zuko !” She tries at extending the olive branch. “I can’t believe you’re preggers!” She puts a gentle hand on Jin's belly, and her vagina immediately winces. “You know, your vag will never look the same, and you might grow a third boob in your armpit.”

“You’re lying .”

“Yeah, a lump of breast milk can form there, too!” Katara is about to scroll to the photo in her phone when Jin laughter breaks through the night.

“I hope your dick gets bitten off mid-blowjob!” She whisper-screams, struggling with her suitcase until it smacks all at nearly every corner and edge. She was just making noise for the sake of making noise, but it made her feel better.

He didn’t expect waking up to a charge on his card for a flight booked in the last ten minutes, or Katara shoving his good mixer in her suitcase.

“You hate it don’t you?” He always loved it when Katara went into Hulk mode anytime a bully dared test her protective nature. While it was never entirely directed at him, he now understands exactly why Chan peed his pants. Katara was terrifying .

“What?” Zuko’s confused, rubbing an eye booger away.

“You loved it when I’m crying over Jet, crying over something, fucking something up in my life. Being mad at the world. You hate that I’m better, and making something of myself now!” She’s angry and grasping at straws.

Zuko furrows his brows, not sure where to progress from here. “Ok, run that by me again?”

The air vanishes when her stare cools over to absolutely icy. “There’s nothing else I can give. So what the fuck do you want from me?”

He laughs, all hollow and almost mocking . “You know, I was afraid of you coming here.” He lies.

She stops in her tracks. “What the hell do you mean?”

“I thought...I thought you wouldn’t get this new me, because it’s different!” He protests. “See, this is exactly the reason why! You’re mad I can afford real Gucci !”

Katara recoils, looking embarrassed for him. God, were men so fucking stupid, and so proud of it, too. “Are you fucking serious.”

Zuko’s frustrated, running his hands through his hair. “What the fuck are we doing, Katara?”

“You tell me!” She demands. “I’m not that kind of girl, Zuko! I’m not that kind of girl that is going to break up a fucking engagement, or whatever the fuck you weirdos are doing!”

He throws up his hands. “I’m not happy! We’re not happy.”

“What? You think now that you’ve sold your soul to your piece of shit dad and you can buy jewelry that won’t turn your fingers green that I’m going to fuck you?”

“No! I’m not saying that—”

Katara scoffs. “Then what the fuck are you saying? Grow up, Zuko. Grow the fuck up and just leave me the fuck alone .”

“You’re still Katara.” He throws his hands up in the air, trying to stop her. Even if he felt like his entire world was falling apart, there was one thing he would always be certain about. “I’m still Zuko. The same Zuko who loves you .”

Katara turns her head, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset. “The thing is, this isn’t you, Zuko.” Katara says with finality. “It isn’t you .”

When she gets home, she spots it right away. On their dining table, white paper folded neatly, Yue was the type of little girl who looked to both sides of the street before crossing, repeating it two more times to be safe. She always took extra care to make everything even, never a wrinkle in sight on her homework.

The Crayola family portrait that brought to life everything she’d imagined and more. Katara doesn’t have the heart to look for longer than a second.

At 27, Katara’s pretending that it’s the happiest day of her life.

She didn’t think he would listen to her, you know, men rarely did anything right. Zuko, though, heeds her warning and only calls exactly two hours before Yue’s bedtime like clockwork. There weren’t any surprise texts to wake up to anymore, no more evidence of Zuko in her life. She doesn’t even find out about Jin’s affair with one of those Axe commercial guys until months later.

When she goes to unblock his number and text him, to try and talk to him, she gasps. She sees those grey iMessage bubbles, and she’s ashamed her heart splutters, awakening a feeling she thought she’s dampened. She puts her phone down for milliseconds, before checking it again and again and again. She finally threw the damn thing across the room when a week passed.

She thinks it’s for the better, especially when she was sure she finally got things right with Jet.

“ We’ll make this shit work together.” Jet reassures, gathering her close to him she could see every little detail of him. “Like Kanye said, ‘you’re a MILF, and I’m a mother-fucker.”

She covers her ears, pushing him into the restaurant’s glass door. “No thank you. No more non consensual reciting of Kanye verses.”

“Yeezy, breezy, beautiful, baby. Get into it.” Jet winks, and Katara feels herself gagging again.

Then again, Katara always had a thing for stupid. And for three easy payments of $Penis.99, he had an all access experience to her pussy and her trauma.

“And he bought me those carrot cake cupcakes I always look at when we go to the supermarket but I never want to chance it because it could have raisins instead of nuts and I think I hate raisins more than I hate white men named Nathaniel.”

Toph jabs Katara in the forehead. “Wow, he spared $5 on some dry pastries, and your pussy was suddenly screaming pick me, pick me !”

“They were gluten free, too,” she points out. “Plus, my pussy doesn’t scream!”

“Oh right, my bad! It whispers!”

“ Toph !”

“Last night I heard it go wash me! Wash me!”

It felt good with him, though. It felt good to see him help Yue with math homework, making dinner in their little kitchen, pressing kisses to her in the morning despite her breath smelling like Khloe Kardashian’s earring backing pussy. Someone to come home to.

“Piece of shit, I’ll fucking kill you!” She was punching him over and over again until her knuckles were ripped raw, sitting straight on his throat. Beating him stupid in the middle of her shift. He thought he could get away with it. With Katara now stuck in the kitchen as one of the head cooks, and the fact he had a reservation in one of the private rooms for him and his secretary to go over...numbers, he didn’t think much of it.

Too bad Toph was too invested, and had a friends-to-lovers storyline to live vicariously through.

“Scram, fuglies!” Toph screamed to other customers who had already started chanting “WorldStar!”

Katara lost her job, lost her mans, lost a section of her eyebrow because Toph accidentally tried helping and swung the wrong direction.

“Catch me outside, how ‘bout that!” She yelps triumphantly, despite the fact Katara was cradling her own bloodied face.

And here she was, about to lose her best friend, too.

She accidentally Facetimed his old number, and spent the last hour mulling over her feelings with an executive of a porn studio who picked up mid-shoot. “Just tell him you love him!” The balding man is exhausted.

“What do I even say? Do I tell him, ‘I think I’ve always loved you?’ Is that too cheesy? You know that feeling when your heart just—Oh my fucking god! Is that Sandy Cheeks from Spongebob ?!” She screams, slamming her hands over her eyes. The squirrel’s melons-for-tits would never be erased from her memory.

He only has fear in his eyes when he looks at her. “You didn’t see anything.” Robert bites out, promptly hanging up.

In her post-Jet purge, she realized she wasn’t the type of ex dead set on destroying his things. After all, she was selling his light-up keyboard to pay for Toph’s birthday boob job. Her residual anger was instead, spent hacking away at the drawer he always kept locked. Until she found it.

A letter from him.

“ I’ve always been afraid that our friendship would’ve spilled over until all I could do is categorize it with four simple letters .” Katara whispers, eyes frantically scanning the paper. “And I’m done being afraid .”

“The four letters he’s talking about is D-U-M-B B-I-C-T-H . Dumb bitch. The ‘bitch’ is silent.” Toph insists. “I can’t believe you let a balding bum, whose credit score tanked because he invested his entire savings in Shake Weight Milkshake making machines, knock you up instead of Zuko.”

“It was innovative at the time,” she whispers.

“Fill the void in your heart, not your pussy.”

She's whipping out her shitty MacBook Air, and praying his email still worked. But when she calls all she sees is her.

“You told me to come to Republic City and find him!” Mai exclaims, holding up her hand where a big ring blinding the fuck out of her.

She feels her heart crumble at the same time she crushes the letter in her hand.

“I did do that, didn’t I?” Katara winces. The time the model stopped by in their hometown, Katara was still happy and getting her pussy pounded regularly and let that shit get to her head. She thought it would be a blessing in disguise, and wanted to help Zuko out, too.

"Fuck."

Their wedding looked ripped out of a 2014 Basic Bitch Pinterest board, and she’s definitely sure she couldn’t be happier.

“Why is her name spelled like ‘Mai’ and pronounced ‘May?’ Like, shouldn’t it be spelled like ‘Mei?’”

“Katara, you’re just being a bitch,” Toph reminds while Katara stares at the sign with their wedding hashtag in front of the photobooth with all the ‘YOLO’ signs and 2013 mustaches.

“I am well aware!” She asserts, chin jutting out.

Mai’s New York Fashion Week ready body was gorgeous, perfect in Zuko’s hold.

Katara wished life was like a rom-com. Where she could burst through the doors, declare her love, piss on him in her ugly, big bridesmaid dress and mark her territory once and for all.

But life wasn’t a movie. Life was just this shitty piece of dumpster fire shit and was always fucking her over like the Target self-checkout line camera.

What could she do? Deliver some long-winded speech about how she would go to realign the stars in the heavens if it meant a chance to rewrite their fate? That she hoped she visits his dreams before his mind could settle into reality, the same way he visited hers and overstayed his welcome every single time? Make everyone uncomfortable and wonder if they boned?

Then again, she was never going to be the one to block her best friend’s blessings. Not on the happiest day of his life.

“I think this is the happiest day of my life.” Katara says seamlessly.

Zuko sees it though, sees right through her and has to stop himself from reaching out to her.

“It wasn’t ever easy being Zuko’s best friend. I mean look at him now, getting married to someone perfect . He’s not even in the same ballpark, league, or hell, stadium porta potty as her!”

Zuko ducks his head with a brief pout that breaks Katara’s heart. Everyone laughs in spite of him, until he joins in, too. “You know, it’s easy to pretend that finding love is easy. You could find love in all the little things in your life. All the people, all the details. It’s easy to say you always, completely, truly love someone. Because that’s what we want love to be, right? At the surface, sure.” She folds the flimsy paper she had on hand, nothing was written on it anyways. “You want it to be perfect.”

“But the love everyone works so hard to get, is the love that’s hard . It’s the love that isn’t safe. The love that challenges, excites you, the love that will never have limits. The love that’s messy and beautiful all at the same time.” She looks at him, truly looks at him for the first time in years and all she could do was smile.

“It’s easy to find love, but it’s near impossible to find a soulmate.” She raises her glass. “Join me in a toast to the bride and groom. I wish you a lifetime of happiness.”

And while everyone is gathered out on the dance floor, she’s sobbing pathetically and smearing the winged eyeliner she worked so hard to perfect on the car ride there. Trying to stop any of the pain from consuming her.

She’s out on the rooftop of the venue, the cold air whipping her face as she tries lighting up a blunt.

“Are you getting high at my wedding !” Zuko is incredulous, and shocks Katara enough to drop the joint off the roof.

“On all things Fenty Beauty, bitch what the fuck?” Katara wipes the tears from the corner of her eyes.

“The flower girl wanted to see her mommy.” But Katara sees right through Yue’s little act. Pretending to sleep so she could be held by Zuko (me too, girl. Me too).

It felt dangerous, the way she could toy with his heart, his own personal defibrillator shocking it back to life. She’s pretty even with red-rimmed eyes, with the fake smiles he knew was trying to appease him to leave her alone. If anything, all it does is make him want to kiss her until her troubles are gone.

He wanted to do a lot of things at that moment. He wanted to feel the warmth of her skin, tell her that above all else, he missed his girl the most. But, he had everything on his plate and then some.

“The chicken was dry as fuck.” He blurts, wiping the sweat from his face. Only Katara could send him back a few decades. “I wish you could’ve catered it.”

“Yeah?” She laughs and wants to call him out for stalking her company’s Facebook page. “Remember you tried my new recipe and you vomited all over the front row at your fourth ever Hello Zuko performance?” She misses his messy hair, when he didn’t look so clean cut and rich bitchy.

“I didn’t know you weren’t done cooking it!”

She shoves his head, and he joins her, dangling his feet precariously off the roof.

When she’s here with him, when he has her in his hold for the first time in years, he sees his whole life with just a glimpse in her eyes. And all he wants to do is build a machine and reverse all the time that’s passed them by.

“I made a mistake.” Zuko breathes out, eyes nervously darting around.

As sure as he was that Nicki Minaj deserved a Grammy, he was sure he loved her.

“W-What?” Katara blinks at him.

“I made a mistake, Katara.” He laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck, carding his hand through his hair. Looking every bit devastatingly handsome. “I realized something. After the speech, after just, everything.”

“I realized I just can’t have my cake and eat it, too.”

Just like that, just with the way he built her up, it comes tumbling down.

“So what are you saying?” Her heart was on the verge of cracking in half and he didn’t even know it. Because all he could pin her with a look she couldn’t read, and she thinks if he was a smarter man he would’ve at least pretended that it hurt him to hurt her.

But it did.

It broke him, ripped him in half to see her face turn to steel right before his eyes.

“What I’m saying is, after all these years.” He doesn’t have it in him to face her. “I think I have to finally let you go, Katara.”

#Zutara #Zuko #Katara #Zutara Week #atla #zutara fanfiction #avatar the last airbender #zutara week 2020

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lauras-collection · 5 years

Text

More Than I Know [Part 7]

Tom Holland x female reader

Masterlist

Summary: You finally tell Tom what happened with Joe, your sister get’s married and dancing with Tom turns out to be more than just dancing.

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: fluff, reader talking about somewhat of a toxic relationship? nothing else I think (let me know if there is anything in there that I should add)

A/N: Remember when I said that I was going to split the wedding into two parts? Yeah, those turned into three :D Was the story of Joe inspired by real-life events that happened to me? Maybe (read: yes)

I’ve never been to a wedding so I kinda guessed the whole thing. I hope you like it anyways!

I hope you enjoy!

The wedding was taking place in the so-called Great Room of the castle which was beautifully decorated for the occasion, much like the dining room from last night, everything in white and gold. As you walked down the stairs towards the entrance to the Great Room you saw that Tom was waiting for you next to the door. He looked dashing in his black suit, his curls swept back nicely. When he noticed you, his eyes widened a bit, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something but no words came out. You walked over to him and he reached out his hand for you to take.

“Wow, Y/N... You look absolutely stunning.” You blushed at his words as you took his hand.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” He smiled at you and pulled you closer by your hand, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“Shall we go in?” He asked nodding his head in the direction of the door. You nodded, so Tom linked his arm with yours and led you inside the Great Room.

Your seats were in the front of the room right beside where your parents were going to sit once they arrived. Daniel was standing on the other side of the aisle talking to his parents. He was shifting his weight from one leg to the other his eyes moving towards the door every so often even though he knew it would be a while until Kate would arrive. Tom kept holding your hand as you sat down and you nervously played with his fingers. He eyed you with a small smile.

“Nervous?”

“Yeah... Is that weird? I’m not the one getting married, yet I’m nervous.”

“I don’t think it’s weird.” He shrugged his shoulders squeezing your hand reassuringly. ”This is a big step for your sister so it’s a big step for you as well. But for what it’s worth, I think the ceremony will go smoothly and everything’s going to go according to plan. Your grandma told me how much planning went into this, I think it’s impossible for something to go wrong.” He chuckled and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh as well.

“You’re right. This is probably the most meticulously planned wedding of the year.”

Throwing one arm over your shoulder Tom pulled you closer and placed a kiss on your temple. “I’m glad I can be a part of it. Thank you for inviting me.”

“No, thank you.” You whispered afraid someone could overhear you. “For agreeing to accompany a complete stranger to a wedding.” You couldn’t believe that only weeks ago Tom was a mere stranger in a coffee shop. It felt like you’d known him for months, if not years. It’s crazy how much things can change in such a short amount of time.

“You never told me what happened with that Joe guy.” Tom said after he saw Joe enter the room, subconsciously pulling you a little closer.

“Huh, you’re right...” You raised your eyebrows. You had almost forgotten about Joe. When you first saw him yesterday you were afraid that you’d be thinking about him the whole time, even if it was just because you wanted to avoid him. But the thoughts of Joe had been completely erased by Tom. “Well, we met when I was fourteen and I was immediately smitten with him. He was always nice and kept hinting that he had feelings for me, too. He lives a few hours north from London so every time I asked him about his feelings for me he said ‘yeah there’s undoubtedly something between us but I just can’t commit to a long-distance relationship.’”You mocked Joe’s voice making Tom chuckle. “But instead of keeping his distance from me whenever we did see each other he kept my hopes up. Whether I wanted to or not, I always hoped that one day we’d be together. Until I tried to take the initiative once. I asked him if I could visit him, you know, to talk. Told him to give me a weekend where he had time. I looked up trains for the dates he gave me. And let me tell you those tickets weren’t cheap. But I was willing to pay that and travel several hours to see him.

“In the end, he told me he had other obligations that weekend but he could probably fit in a couple of hours to chat. That’s when I suddenly realised that he never cared as much about me as I cared about him.” You shrugged your shoulders. “Long story short, he led me on for a long long time.” You pursed your lips as you looked at Tom. He looked down at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher.

“Phew. Well, that’s definitely his loss. But how come he’s here now?” He turned around to look at Joe again who was talking to one of Daniel’s friends.

“He’s a family friend. But I really expected Kate to tell me that he’s coming.”

“But you’re good now? No lingering feelings or anything?”

“Nah. I didn’t even think about him until you brought him up just now.” You gave Tom a proud smile.

“That’s great, love.” He rubbed your shoulder and before either of you could say more your mother sat down next to you talking about how excited she was.

The ceremony was beautiful. Seeing your sister getting married had you more emotional than you had expected. You teared up quite a few times while your mother was quietly sobbing next to you. Tom squeezed your hand every once in a while with a small smile.

***

The reception was being held in the dining room that you had already seen yesterday but this time the decorations were even lusher, which you didn’t think was possible. But it still looked beautiful. Everyone congratulated the newlyweds, pictures were taken and you really enjoyed yourself.

Kate insisted on throwing her bouquet and even though you tried to stand as far back as possible, the beautifully arranged flowers landed right in your hands. Perfect. Your mum clapped her hands and pushed Tom in your direction waving the photographer over.

“We need a picture! C’mon Y/N, show us who caught the bouquet!” She stood next to the photographer with the biggest smile and you rolled your eyes.

“Me!” You said with fake enthusiasm and clenched teeth. Tom laughed as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Don’t sound too excited, love.” You looked up at Tom, putting biggest smile you could muster on your face. He looked down at you, a similar expression on his face. “That’s more like it.”

After that, the wedding breakfast was on the agenda. And to be honest you were really hungry. Because of your late morning, you hadn’t really had the time to eat actual breakfast. So the wedding breakfast would literally be your breakfast. You and Tom were seated close to the head table. You were sharing a table with Joanna, her husband and Lottie as well as Joanna’s mother, your aunt Mathilde. She was your mother’s oldest sister and just as enthusiastic about weddings.

After everyone was finished with their food, speeches were held which ended up being just as emotional as the ceremony itself. You had also prepared a little speech and your hands were shaking with nerves as you stood up. You had the sheet of paper lying in front of you in case you lost your place. You wrung your clammy hands as you looked around the room introducing yourself.

“When Kate introduced Daniel to us for the first time, I immediately knew that he’d be the one for Kate. Every other guy Kate brought home before him was bound to be kicked out by her eventually. And there were a lot.” You chuckled and so did everyone else who knew of Kate’s dating history. “No one ever had the strong-mindedness that matched Kate’s. It’s not a secret that she can be a handful sometimes. But Daniel is the perfect counterpart to that.” You turned to look at Kate and Daniel sitting at the head table. “You complement each other in the best possible way, and every time you guys look each other you can see that true love really exists. Kate, I’m so happy for you.” You had tears in your eyes again and so did your sister. You laughed at your emotional state. “Look at me, I’m crying again.” You wipe away your tears before continuing. “Daniel, you’re the best husband I could ever wish for for my sister. Welcome to the family.” You raised your glass with a smile and Daniel mimicked your motion sending you a wink, mouthing ‘thank you.’ Everyone else raised their glasses as well and cheered. You finally sat down again, having to wipe some more tears away.

After Kate and Daniel had danced the first dance as husband and wife the dance floor was quickly filled with people. You were talking to Lottie when you felt Tom’s hand on your thigh. You turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

“D’you wanna dance?” He asked with a sheepish smile and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.

“Of course I’d like to dance.” You nodded and turned towards Lottie. “Will you be alright while I dance with Tom?” She only nodded too engrossed in a colouring book to give you a verbal answer. Her tongue was slightly poking out between her lips while she tried to stay within the lines. You reached for Tom’s outstretched hand and he pulled you to your feet before leading you to the dance floor that was in the middle of the room. The DJ was playing a somewhat upbeat song so Tom and you started duelling yourself with the most awkward dance moves you both knew. While you did the robot, Tom showed off his best boyband moves, making you burst out laughing. Tom grabbed your hands and twirled you around until you were dizzy and out of breath from laughing. He pulled you close so you lightly collided with his chest his arms wrapping around you. The current song faded out and the DJ’s voice was heard over the speakers.

“Let’s get romantic with a little bit of Ed Sheeran.” You heard Kate squeal, she was a huge fan, and run to grab Daniel to dance with him. The first chords of Kiss Me were heard and you automatically wrapped your arms around Tom’s neck with a blush on your cheeks. He slowly swayed you from left to right, his hands on your waist. Tom was looking at you with a cheeky smirk as his hands moved towards your back, inching lower towards your butt.

“Ah ah.” You grabbed his wrists. “Your hands stay right there” you moved his hands back to your waist. “around my family.” You playfully glared at him.

“Around your family, huh?” He pulled you closer so your chest was pressed against his. “So if we were alone, you’d let me?” He raised an eyebrow, that stupidly attractive smirk still on his face. Yes, you’d let him. But you won’t tell him that.

“You’ll have to find that out for yourself.” you shrugged and gave him a smirk of your own. Tom’s cheeks lifted into a genuine smile as he continued to sway you on the dance floor.

After a few moments of looking into your eyes, he moved his face a bit closer as if to tell you a secret. “Did you known I met Ed Sheeran at the premiere of his concert film?”

“Is that supposed to impress me, movie star?” You made an unimpressed expression, even though you were indeed a little impressed.

With a barely noticeable shake of his head Tom let out a soft laugh, one of his hands moved to your cheek. He softly pulled you closer until his lips touched yours. You were surprised by the feeling of his soft lips against yours for a moment. But then you allowed yourself to close your eyes. This was most likely one of the last times you got to kiss Tom, might as well enjoy it. Your hands moved into his hair pulling him even closer as your mouth opened, your tongue meeting Tom’s. You melted into his touch, forgetting everything around you as you kept kissing Tom. His thumb softly caressed your cheekbone as you tilted your head to the side, urging your lips against his.

You were slightly out of breath when your lips eventually separated from his. The song was over and the DJ had decided on something upbeat again. But you didn’t even really notice. Tom’s forehead was against yours, his nose brushing against your own and you could feel his breath on your lips. Tom pulled you closer by your waist.

“Y/N I...” he paused and swallowed thickly as if he needed to pluck up the courage to say what’s on his mind.

“You..?”

He moved his head back a bit so he could look into your eyes and you knew that what he was going to say was important.

“I don’t-“ You were suddenly grabbed by the shoulder and pulled into the forming conga line by Dave who laughed at the face you pulled. He couldn’t have picked a worse time to do that.

Part 8

Thank you for reading 💕

Let me know what you think! :)

Taglist

@jackiehollanderr // @alicethestral // @snowxbarryxendgame // @van-horn-dashner // @sltwins // @yeahimcrying // @ohhhotstan // @heathera101x // @xxnomercy // @bbyxk // @infamousmany // @zabdisamor // @starsholland // @kthemarsian // @jillanaholland // @lamesister // @madon566 // @prettylittlevampire1864 //@llamazarecoolaf // @ultrunning // @rachaeldonnaspiteri1 // @ilmondodiennie // @poorlittlesuperstar // @averyfosterthoughts // @crazyfreaker // @tbh–idk29 // @oh-mymendes

Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the taglist! (make sure your blog is visibile in search, otherwise I won’t be able to tag you)

#tom holland au #tom holland fic #tom holland series #fake dating au #tom holland x reader #more than I know

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highkey-lowkey-as-hell · 4 years

Note

if you want to write it, a meet the parents fic but it’s kateva and angst to hurt comfort because i like my heart broken -cotmlc

THANK YOU, CO-PRESIDENT, FOR RELIEVING MY HORRIBLE, TERRIBLE, SOUL-CRUSHING BOREDOM

Also, seeing as this is angst, I’m switching the prompt up just a little. My headcanon is that Eva’s mom is the Best Mom and Kate’s parents are Trying (And Failing A Little But Overall Doing Their Best), so we’re getting Kate’s more-homophobic-grandparents instead for the Angst Factor.

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

Okay, yes, Kate was nervous.

Like, super nervous.

Eva had sworn up and down that she loved Kate no matter what, and while that did help her fear of losing her, she was still scared this afternoon was going to make Eva run away. Even if she didn’t, though, Kate was still expecting hell.

Her maternal grandparents were thoroughly convinced that Kate’s sarcastic, cynical, girls-and-flannel-loving personality was Just A Phase and she’d grow out of it and start wearing pink and giggling and liking guys any moment now. Obviously, that wasn’t happening. When she’d joined the cheer squad, they’d been so excited, Kate almost felt bad about disappointing them.

Almost. She didn’t actually feel bad about it.

Actually, her grandparents were one of the only things that told Kate her mom really and truly supported her sexuality. Sure, she was insecure about it, and had once asked her if she thought it was “just a phase,” but she always defended Kate whenever her grandparents asked if she was interested in anyone and she answered with “Bridget” or “Emily” or “Jennifer.”

Her mom’s mediocre support aside, Kate had been postponing this meeting for as long as she could. She and Eva had officially been together since February, and now it was July. She’d met Eva’s mother, uncle, and siblings, and Eva had met her parents and brothers. She knew for a fact that Eva had Chess’s letter tucked safely in a dresser drawer and that she reread it often. They even regularly said “I love you” now. And yet, her grandparents had only recently even learned Eva existed.

Just like always, Kate and her parents were hosting the Dalton family’s annual 4th of July party. Typically, Kate would be forced to greet everyone and then would run up to her room to read or play on her phone, or - before Derrick and Jack had left for college and gotten so distant - she and her brothers would be in the basement, playing video games Kate probably shouldn’t have been playing when she was ten. Today, though, was going to be a bit different.

Kate’s grandmother had recently joined Facebook without her knowledge, which proved to be problematic at the end of the year. Kate’s mom had made her usual post, congratulating Derrick on finishing his first year of grad school, Jack on his sophomore year of college, and Kate on her junior year of high school. The picture of Kate she had chosen to post was one Eva had posted to Instagram (and one she’d asked permission to use, which Kate and Eva both appreciated) (the caption was very sweet, irrelevant to this story, and was “GCHS cheer fucking sucks but at least I’ve got you, I love you so much”), which was a photo of the two of them after their last cheer competition. In the photo, Eva had her arm around Kate and was kissing her cheek, and it was very obvious that they were a couple.

Kate’s grandmother saw the photo.

Kate’s first reaction when her mom told her was to freeze and think fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck SHIT fuck fuck fuck - which she thought was a very logical first reaction. Her second reaction was freak the fuck out.

One thing had led to another, and now Eva had been invited to join the Dalton family Independence Day celebrations.

She showed up a little bit before everyone else, just because that’s how Eva was, and Kate dragged her down into the basement so she could rant about how scared she was.

“My cousins are just like Lily and they’ll love you and my aunts and uncles are great and Dad’s parents are pretty cool but Mom’s parents are going to hate you,” she ranted, pacing back and forth while Eva watched from the couch. “This might have been a really bad idea.”

“It’ll be fine, Katie,” Eva tried to sooth. “You’ve literally survived a stab wound, they can’t be much worse.”

“My grandparents meeting my girlfriend? Yeah, I think I’d rather get stabbed again.”

“I think you’re overreacting.”

“You won’t think that when they show up.” Kate stopped pacing and hugged herself, trying to calm her anxiety. “Promise you’ll stay?”

“I promise.” Eva stood up and hugged her, and Kate finally managed to breathe. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Kate wanted Eva to hold her like that for the rest of the day, but the doorbell rang and Jack shouted for them to come upstairs and it was time to face the music.

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

Her paternal grandparents showed up first and, like Kate predicted, immediately adored Eva. They’d asked her at least four dozen questions before Kate’s aunt showed up a few minutes later, and as her relatives trickled in, Kate began to suspect that this was turning into less of a “family Independence Day!” party and more of a “Kate’s actually gay and has a girlfriend now, wow, time to overwhelm her” party. She’d made a deal with Jack and Derrick beforehand, having predicted what would happen, and invoked it now, leaving them to entertain their relatives while Kate pulled Eva into the backyard and onto the porch swing, where it would take several minutes for questions to reach them and they had an excuse to be as close as possible.

Kate was hoping her mom’s parents might not show up when her grandfather appeared in the doorway and her stomach sank into her beat-up shoes. He zeroed in on Kate and Eva right away and walked toward them, taking up way more space than he needed to like always.

“Kate, it’s been a while,” he boomed, and Kate winced.

“Hey, Grandpa,” she said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. “This is Eva.” Eva awkwardly waved, then put her hand down.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, and Kate felt really bad about dragging her into this.

“You must be Kate’s friend,” he nearly yelled (why the fuck did he have to be so loud?) and Kate nearly straight-up attacked him.

I’m basically in her lap right now! What the fuck do you mean, my “friend”?

Jack caught her eye from across the porch and gave her a sympathetic look before looking back at their elderly great-grandmother.

“Girlfriend, actually,” Kate corrected. “We’re dating. We’re a couple. Definitely not friends.”

“Right, of course.” Her grandfather winked at her, and she nearly screamed.

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

The day did not get much better.

When her grandmother came out, she was about as subtle as her husband had been about how she didn’t actually believe Kate and Eva were in love (maybe? In love felt a little bit strong, but it also seemed to be the best term for it and Kate didn’t have time to think of a better way to put it) and thought they were just good friends. Then, when she stood up to go and get her phone so she could show her aunt a picture of their cheer squad and Eva’s hand wasn’t covering her scar anymore, her aunt screamed and brought three people running, pinning all the attention on Kate in a really bad way.

After a few hours, Kate whispered something in Eva’s ear and stepped away, into the garage, trying to catch her breath and calm down. The door opened, and rather than being Eva or one of her brothers like she’d hoped, she opened her eyes to see her grandmother.

“I saw you leave and wanted to make sure you were okay, honey.”

“I’m fine, Grandma. Just needed a moment.” She clenched her teeth and prayed her grandmother would leave. She didn’t.

“Eva seems nice,” she continued.

“She is.” Kate almost started to hope that maybe, maybe, her grandmother would start to take her relationship seriously. “I’m lucky to have her.”

“You seem like really good friends.” Fuck, there it was.

“Okay, you know what? Knock it off!” Kate didn’t mean to blow up, but she couldn’t help it now. “It doesn’t matter how much you deny it, it’s not going to change the fact that I’m not the granddaughter you have in your head! I love Eva, okay? I love someone who’s name is Eva and not Evan. I love her and I’m a lesbian and I’m so tired of you not taking me and my relationships seriously like you do Jack and Derrick!” Then she stormed past her and up to her room, her eyes stinging with tears.

After about twenty minutes, there was a gentle knock on the door.

“Go away,” she mumbled.

“Katie?”

“Oh. You can come in.”

Eva opened the door and then closed it behind herself. “Are you okay? Your grandmother says you totally lost your shit at her.”

“I kinda did.”

“I’m not surprised.” Eva sat next to her, and Kate sat up and crawled into her arms. “They’ve been assholes to us all day.”

“I just really love you, Eva, and I want them to understand that.” Kate’s voice was muffled by Eva’s shirt. “I want them to take you seriously as my girlfriend and stop trying to deny it. I-I want them to accept that I’m not the perfect granddaughter they wanted. I’m not perfect.”

“And thank God. If you were perfect, how would I make fun of you for how atrocious you are at skateboarding? How would I keep you from fighting some people and watch you fight others?” Eva pulled her a little bit tighter and laid down, Kate still curled up in her arms. “I hate your grandparents, but I love you more.”

“Promise you’ll stay?”

“Promise.”

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

Everyone has that one relative who denies your sexuality, right? I’m not out to my family as lesbian, just as ace, and I still think they don’t quite get it. But hey, everyone’s got someone who has their back, right? I hope this was angsty enough!!!!!!

13 notes · View notes

alilpunkrock · 4 years

Text

Home for the holidays

Ryan Sitkowski x reader

Not requested

A/n: wow I am hella late for a Christmas fic but honestly, who cares? I’m definitely making a part 2 with smut so don’t you worry. I hope you enjoy!! This is my last fic of 2019. Happy New Years! 🖤

Tag list: @chriscrosscerulli @myanaconda-will-consider1t @thisplace-ishaunted @ryansitkowskiswifey @musicsexandpizza69 @whyisgmora

••••••••••

“Ryan, please! I need you to do this for me!” I pleaded. He was standing on the other side of the counter with his arms crossed.

“Why? You can easily go out and find an actual boyfriend, why do I have to be your fake one?” He asked. I sighed in frustration.

“Because I don’t want an actual boyfriend! I just need you to pretend so my mom will get off my back! I swear her and my aunt think I’m going to die a spinster.” I leaned against the counter and put my head in my hands. There was silence for a moment before Ryan sighed.

“Okay, fine. I’ll do it. But,” Ryan started, my head shot up. “You have to clean my apartment, spotless. And cook me dinner for a whole week.” Ryan listed his conditions.

I squealed in excitement and relief.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I ran around the counter and wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him, jumping up and down. “Seriously, I’ll literally do whatever you want! Okay! I got to go, I’ll be over tomorrow to let you know what’s going to happen.” I put my sweatshirt on and grabbed my keys and purse running out the door.

Ryan shook his head and wondered what he had gotten himself into.

The next day I arrived at Ryan’s apartment earlier than I knew he’d appreciate. He opened the door at 9am in his underwear and a t shirt.

“Why so early?” He asked, moving to the side and letting me in. Snow covered the ground outside and Ryan shivered at the thought of being outside right now.

“Sorry, I forgot you like to sleep till the evening.” Ryan rolled his eyes.

“I’m going to put pants on, please make a pot of coffee.” He said walking down the hallway to his room. I took my shoes off by the couch and made my way into the kitchen. I started Ryan’s Keurig, pulling two coffee mugs from the cupboard above my head. Ryan came back in wearing sweats and a sweatshirt.

He looked cozy. And warm. And like you wanted to cuddle him.

Wait, what? No. Fake boyfriend. Remember Y/N?

I cleared your throat and put Ryan’s cup under the spout to pour the coffee, mine next. I turned and handed Ryan his cup.

“Creamer?” I asked walking to his fridge. He shook his head and took a drink of the black coffee in his cup. I grabbed the vanilla creamer for mine.

“So, what’s happening?” Ryan asked, clearly in a better mood after a few drinks of coffee. I took a drink of my own.

“Well, in order to miss the crazy holiday rush, my mom bought us tickets to fly out next Friday. We’ll get there Friday night and will be there till the 30th. I told her it’s a little long, but if you need to fly back before then that’s totally fine.” I explained. He nodded.

“The 30th should be fine. The guys and I don’t start tour until a few weeks into January.” He agreed. I nodded and it got quiet.

“I really can’t thank you enough Ry. You’re seriously the best person ever.” He chuckled and shook his head.

“What are friends for. Are you doing anything else today?” Ryan asked me.

“Hmm no, it’s Sunday so I’m off of work. I have an early day tomorrow so I was going to stop by the store after I got off work. Why?” I asked sipping from my cup.

“Because I’m not doing anything either and there’s a stack of Christmas movies next to my tv that, now, need to be watched before next week. And, since you said you’d do whatever I wanted, you’re stuck watching them with me.” I rolled my eyes, smiling.

“Ugh if you’re forcing me.”

We walked in to the living room, I immediately sat on the couch, pulling my legs underneath me. Ryan was picking through movies trying to find one to watch. I admired Ryan a lot. He’s very talented at everything he does. When he gets passionate about something he gives it his all. He’s taught me a lot about myself over the 6 years I’ve known him. He’s seen me through terrible break ups, he’s taken care of me through some of the worst sicknesses I’ve ever had. He’s a genuinely good guy. The girl who ends up with him better know how lucky she is.

“Y/N?” Ryan’s voice broke my train of thought.

“Huh?” He smirked.

“See something you like?” He asked making me roll my eyes.

“You wish, what do you want?”

“Elf?” He asked putting it in the DVD player. I nodded.

We settled on the couch for the rest of the night watching movies.

—————

By the end of the week, Ryan and I were packed for the next couple weeks. I had to remind Ryan not to pack all his Blackcraft shirts and give my grandma a heart attack.

“Okay so do you remember what I told you about our backstory?” I asked in the car in the way to the airport.

“Yes, Y/N. It’s the same as always we’re just a couple now. I’m a great actor I promise we can sell it. Now, what should we avoid doing to make sure it’s not awkward when we get home?” He asked me. I hadn’t thought of that.

“Kissing maybe, like cheeks are fine, forehead yes, but avoid lips. That’s too intimate.” I said. “We might be sharing a room too, so if you’d like I’ll sleep on the floor and you can have the bed.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous. We’ve shared a twin sized bed before, I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Ryan assured me.

The flight to my home town felt like it was over too soon. I huffed when I saw the seatbelt light come on.

“You okay?” Ryan asked. “You’re not backing out now are you?” I shook my head.

“I just dread coming home every year. My family always has something to say about how I live my life. Not to mention how guilty my mom makes me feel about moving so far away.” I word vomited before I could stop myself. “Sorry, didn’t mean to lay that on you.” I sighed.

“Hey,” Ryan grabbed my hand. “You got me this time. I will rant and rave about you the whole time if I have to if that’s what it takes to get your family off your back.”

I smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. His eyes were wide when I pulled back.

“Just practicing.”

—————

“Y/N!!” I heard my name being called across the airport.

“Oh god, they’re all here.” I said looking up at Ryan. He chuckled and grabbed my hand his back pack on his back and duffle in the other. I had my rolling suitcase and small duffle sitting on top in my free hand.

“Oh you’re so skinny! Do you ever eat?” My mom all but yelled in my ear as she hugged me. Her, my two aunts, my sister and my cousin were gathered around Ryan and I.

“Hello to you too mom.” I said hugging her back. She pulled away and looked at Ryan.

“Hello! You must be Ryan! Y/N talks about you all the time!” She hugged him.

“Mom!” My face burned up. Ryan chuckled and hugged my mom.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He said.

“Well we got a full house of people who are dying to see you!”

The drive to my childhood home was almost the same as torture. Everyone was bombarding Ryan with questions and, bless his heart, he answered them all in stride. Arriving at my moms house, Ryan and I were again attacked by more family. After the over all introductions, Ryan and I were sitting on the couch in the family room with everyone else, my legs across his lap and his thumb drawing shapes on my knee.

“So, when did you and Ryan happen?” My sister asked. All attention turned to Ryan and I.

“Uh-“ I started. “I asked Y/N out a couple months ago. We’ve been friends forever and I just decided to go for it.” Ryan took over. Everyone seemed to buy it. I smiled and nodded.

“Well you’re certainly adorable! I can’t wait for grand babies!” My mother clapped.

“Oh my god mom! That’s not even on the table!” I exclaimed. Ryan laughed beside me. He honestly has the best laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Y/n. Cmon, it’s late. Let’s get you to bed.” Ryan said to me after he had to shake me awake.

We were still in the living room, tv playing a Christmas movie and the tree was lit up. No one else was down here though. I removed my legs from where they were still on his lap and rubbed my eyes. The clock next to the tv said it was after midnight. Ryan stood up and grabbed the remote turning everything off, I followed behind his half asleep.

“Lead the way,” Ryan motioned for me to walk up the stairs first. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall down the stairs, zombie.”

My room was the last door down the hall as soon as you got to the stairs, as soon as we got outside I stopped.

“Look, I don’t really remember how I left this room when I moved to Pennsylvania, so don’t make fun of me for the rest of my life if there’s anything embarrassing I here.” I warned Ryan. He smiled sweetly at me

“Sweetheart, I’m going to make fun of you for the rest of your life no matter what.” My face fell as I turned and opened the door.

I honestly didn’t remember how I left it. As I looked around I was instantly transported to high school. I left home at 18 and haven’t been home in four years. All my band posters were still up on the wall and pictures of old friends still taped to my mirror. I was almost overwhelmed by the emotion that came over me. I turned and saw Ryan looking around as well, he seemed to be focused on something specific though.

“You were a fan before we met?” Ryan asked. I walked over to were he was at and saw a small tour poster from them Motionless in White first started out. Oh.

“Uh yeah, I saw a few shows when you guys were in town a long time ago.” I said awkwardly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He looked down at me. It was then that I realized how close we were standing. I moved to sit on my bed, taking my hair down from the bun I had it in.

“Because it’d be weird. After I met Bryce and Jaime and then became friends with you guys and the crew I didn’t want to be that weird fan that became a friend.” I shrugged. He nodded.

“Well, I’m glad I have something to tell the guys when we go back home.” I rolled my eyes and got the bed ready.

Ryan moved around the other side and looked between the bed and the floor.

“I can sleep on the floor if you’d like?” He offered.

“Don’t worry about it just get in bed and sleep. I’m exhausted.” I yawned and laid down in bed.

“Okay.”

We laid in silence for a few minutes before I rolled over and spoke.

“Thank you for helping me. I feel bad for lying to my family though.” He rolled over and faced me.

“Hey, it’ll all be fine. I promise I’ll be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.” He made me laugh.

“Well if it’s any consolation, so far you’re better than actual boyfriends I’ve had.”

“Good night.” He chuckled.

“Night.” I said rolling over to my other side.

~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up the next morning to an empty bed. There was noise downstairs which led be to believe Ryan was probably part of that. I groaned and rubbed my eyes as I sat up and slowly got out of bed. When I got downstairs the smell of pancakes and bacon filled my nose. In the kitchen, my mom was making coffee for everyone and Ryan was making bacon while my dad was flipping pancakes. Without thinking, I walked over to Ryan at the stove.

“Morning sunshine!” Ryan said leaning down and kissing the top of my head.

“Morning,” I mumbled. “Smells good.”

“Good morning sweetheart!” My mom said cheerfully. “How’d you two sleep?” She asked.

“Uh, fine?” I said confused. She smirked at me a little. Did my mom think Ryan and I had sex in my childhood bedroom? Gross! Well, not gross because just look at him but still, no! But then again my mom doesn’t know we’re not actually together so... moving on.

“So are you guys not big on PDA?” My sister asked as I sat down next to Ryan at the table.

“What do you mean?” I asked grabbing a piece of toast from the plate.

“Well, none of us have seen you kiss, or do anything remotely couply the whole time you’ve been here.” She was starting to get suspicious.

“Um,” I looked at Ryan asking him to save me and instead of saying anything he leaned in and kissed my cheek, like half a millimeter away from my lips. That’s the first time we’ve ever kissed.

“I just didn’t want to be disrespectful in your mothers home.” Ryan came back. I smiled and tried to hide my shock from everyone around the table.

“Well that’s very sweet Ryan, but it’s the holidays and that means mistletoe!” My mom squealed before dangling the plant above Ryan and I’s heads.

I froze in my place making eye contact with the hazel eyes in front of me. The look Ryan gave me was almost asking for permission, I gave him a silent okay before I saw him lean in slowly. Holy shit this is happening. I braced myself, closing my eyes as I felt his lips brush mine. I closed the gap, feeling Ryan’s hand rest on my cheek. I don’t know how long the kiss lasted. All I know is I heard my sister clear her throat and Ryan and pulled away. I made brief eye contact with everyone at the table, my face turning bright red.

Well, that was awkward. Looking at Ryan out of the corner of my eye, I saw him blushing as well and avoiding looking at my mom. Thank god my dad wasn’t here right now.

“Well, you two certainly like each other.” My mom smirked taking a bite of her breakfast.

“Excuse me.” I saw pushing away from the table and leaving the dining room. I ran back up the stairs to my room and decided to get dressed.

“Y/n are you-.” I was only in jeans and a bra when Ryan opened the door. I jumped and grabbed my sweater, quickly putting it on. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- I didn’t.” Ryan stuttered.

“It’s fine. What’s up?” I asked slightly irritated that he followed me.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. That kiss wasn’t too much was it?” He asked, concerned.

It wasn’t enough.

“Um, no not too much. They bought it.” I forced a chuckle.

“Yeah they definitely bought it.” He scratched the back of his head.

God, I wanna do it again.

“Ya know, we should maybe practice for next time. Maybe it won’t seem so awkward.” He suggested. I froze.

What?

“What?”

“Yeah, why not? Ya know.” Silence.

“Uh, practicing might help.” I said, playing with the hem of my sweater.

Ryan smiled and walked closer to me; making me look up at him because of the height difference. His hands found home on my waist as they squeezed my hips pulling me against his body. My eyes were closed before I even felt his lips on mine, but as soon as we connected, it was like we needed each other’s lips to survive. His tongue glided along my lower lip until I granted him entrance, he dominated the kiss quite easily. My hand found themselves threading into his longer that usual hair and tugging slightly. He walked me backwards until my knees hit the bed and slowly lowered me onto my back. Was I going to let him take it this far? I might honestly. Just as I was about to wrap my legs around his waist and pull his hips flush to mine, a knock at my door startled us.

“Y/n, Ryan, we’re heading out to the square to watch the Christmas parade. Mom wants you to join!” My sister yelled.

I looked at Ryan, biting my lip. “Okay! We’ll be there in a second.” I yelled back.

“Damn it.” Ryan huffed, resting his head on my shoulder. I pat the top of his telling him to get up.

I walked over to my mirror to readjust my self before turning to Ryan.

“Ready?” He asked. I nodded, following him downstairs.

God, I’m so screwed.

#miw imagines #ryan sitkowski fic #ryan sitkowski x reader #ryan sitkowski #motionless in white imagines #motionless in white #ryan sitkowski imagine

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kariachi · 4 years

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Okay, I was already blaming @petrosapian for this Gwengit run but I am definitely blaming her for this fic because I am not taking the fall for this.

Sweet and relatively soft Gwengit fluff.

The day is Valentines, the first one where Argit and Gwen were maybe kind’ve sorta an item rather than just sharing the one beautiful disaster, and they had agreed to attempt to do it properly. As properly as they could. Which probably wasn’t much, honestly. Of course there have been the presents for Kevin (flowers from both ends, now that Gwen has finally given up on giving their boyfriend anything else to spite Argit and his advice), but for each other had been…

Well.

She’d never admit it, but the generic and cheap gold-tone earrings spoke a lot to Gwen’s struggle to find a proper present. And Argit couldn’t even give her a properly excessive amount of shit about it because not only did they agree to try to tone it down for the holiday, but also he’d straight forgotten it was coming up until Kevin’s flowers arrived, having been ordered exactly one year in advance specifically because Argit couldn’t track dates if his life was on the line. He had nothing- nothing- ready.

Thankfully, he had not- with Kevin’s thoroughly amused help- bluffed his way through several years of gift giving occasions for nothing. Gwen could not be allowed to learn of this weakness, he would never survive. No, he’d sent messages, called in minor favors, to make his first idea work and work fast.

Sat with her arms and legs crossed, having been not-so-patiently waiting on him, Gwen raised an eyebrow as Argit dropped a spare piece of scrap metal dotted with various colors of body paint on the coffee table.

“I swear if this is some sort’ve kink thing,” she said, though her tone was more curios than anything. Still, Argit flopped down on the couch beside her more forcefully than was exactly needed, snapping his jaws in her direction.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Red,” he replied, “it’s-” And he wasn’t really sure how to finish that thought. Kevin was easy, hopelessly romantic at heart with flowers sitting in the sweet spot where receiving them both made him feel loved instead of just setting off those overactive warning bells, but Gwen… Things were new with Gwen, and while he knew the things she liked as gifts the problem was that he tended to give those just, at random. Whenever he found them. She expected more for a holiday, though, and when it came down to it all he’d been able to think of under the time crunch was this. “It’s an Erinaen thing.” It wasn’t a lie.

“Okay,” she asked, looking at him like she didn’t fully believe him, “where do we start then?”

“You start by relaxing for once in your damn life,” Argit said, pushing her shoulder into the couch for emphasis, “so I can work.” She glowered at him, but did as requested. Only once she was relaxed back in her seat, arms and legs uncrossed, did he turn to the paint. She wore blues, mostly, and greens seemed to be popular among humans with her colors, so he would start with those. He gathered up a bold blue on his finger and thought back to his only point of reference for all this, trying to figure out what to do.

“Well,” Gwen asked after a moment and Argit sighed through his nose. His Pa’s, definitely. Both his parents had been horrible, but he would gnaw off an arm before Gwen shared anything with his Ma, even just a painted design. He took her chin in his hand, slowly, and shifted her head so he could get a better look at her face. The look would have to be adjusted to accommodate for the lack of a long muzzle but, he could make do.

“Hold still.” She didn’t, face twitching when the paint touched it. “What did I say?”

“Cut me some slack, I hardly even wear makeup.”

“Well maybe you should start.” She stuck her tongue out at him and he snapped his teeth again, more gently, before going to work. He started above one corner of her mouth, carefully painting a thick blue line around her nose and up over her eyebrow before bringing it back down to curve beneath her ear. Then, he repeated the process on the other side of her face and paused, for just a moment. “Take off your shirt?”

“What?” She gave him another suspicious look. He rolled his eyes.

“I can get the design right either way, but it’ll be easier and work better if I can see your back,” Argit explained, and though Gwen clearly didn’t entirely trust his honesty she again listened, turning her back to him as she stripped off her top. “Thank you.” The bra was still in his way, but that was much easier to work around than a whole shirt.

“So,” she asked as he continued the first line from before, skirting around her hair as he took it down the back of her neck, across the shoulder blade, and down the outer length of the arm, “this is an Erinaen thing?”

“Yeah. Fur makes tattoos unpopular, and makeup too, so you dye it in temporary patterns.” Her foot began tapping with pent-up energy as he reached her hand, running a line down to each finger and spiraling it around them. He couldn’t blame her, and was happy to take his time with the other side so she couldn’t see his tail twitching. This was intimate behavior, a form of mutual grooming, reserved for family, partners.

It was a spur of the moment plan, but that didn’t make it not a big deal.

“Family got hold of some dye once, back in the Null Void,” he continued as she leaned to the side, trying to avoid getting paint on the couch, “parents painted each other up all pretty. Got pissed later when us kittens got into it.” The memory was one of the few good ones from back then, before freedom and Kevin. The youngest litter still in the pouch, he and the rest of his siblings painting each other as best they could with literally no prior experience. He couldn’t help smiling at it, and it showed in his tone. “I was rainbow for a week.”

Gwen laughed at the image, and Argit was forced to join her when all she could say was “Argicorn.”

“Better than Niu, their fur was darker, they looked like an oil slick.” Her snickering got worse and he took the time to wipe the blue paint from his hand with one of Kevin’s handkerchiefs, replacing it with green.

“Reminds me of when I was little,” she said as he began working on her wrists, two alternating, broken lines of green wrapping around each one, “me and one of my cousins once got into grandma’s makeup. Aunt Abigail actually screamed when she saw the mess we made of ourselves, but I’m pretty sure grandma still has the pictures.”

“Kittens,” Argit snickered, “you take your eyes off them for five minutes…” Wrists done, time for some simple circles around the junction where shoulder met arm, and then “Turn around again, and move the bra some, I need collarbone access.”

“’Take off your shirt, Red’,” she griped as she scooted away from the back of the couch and did as asked, ‘move your bra, Red’, I swear if this is a kink for you-”

“Then I wouldn’t just sneak it on you and you know it.”

“I’m going to have to trash this bra anyway, you know.”

“You poor, tortured soul.” The collarbone portion was pretty simple, actually, just one line. Down one collarbone, up the side of the neck, along the jaw, then down the other side to the end of the opposite collarbone. For good measure, he traced out the bottom edge of her nose, around the nostrils and tip.

“So, your parents did this for each other,” Gwen asked as he cleaned off the green and began mixing red and orange to get the accent shade that’d settled in his mind. He mrrped an affirmative. “That’s…” Her foot tapped harder. “It’s sweet. I think the most romantic thing I ever saw my parents do was cuddle on New Years. It’s nice they were so openly in love.” Argit wasn’t entirely sure how much love there ever really was between them, though he certainly wasn’t going to say it. Besides, after eighteen children and how long in the Null Void, who knew.

“Just remember, they made me,” he said instead, taking up some red-orange and quickly painting the webbing between her fingers, connecting her collarbones with a line that swept down between her breast and back up.

“They managed at least one semi-decent thing then,” she replied. Argit started, then hid his brief surprise with a toothy smirk.

“I knew the earrings were a decoy gift.” She mimed swatting at him with a smile of her own, a fitting distraction from her face having gone pink- probably from the strain of sort’ve complimenting him. He just turned to the last order of business, a trail of red-orange dots running up either side of her nose, as far up as he could get them, and

And

Well.

He’d been moving around on the couch, but that was when Argit finally got up from it entirely, backing away so he could get a good view. The lines served to emphasize her movement, especially at the hands, and lengthened her throat, her face, her nose. His head tilted to one side, ears twitching.

“You’re, kinda pretty, Red.” She looked about as surprised as he felt, or maybe that was the paint making every confused twist catch the eye. It was certainly a new concept for him. Sexual attraction he had felt towards humans before- though never Gwen, despite his fondness for her- but aesthetic attraction… Kevin hit some points with his piercings, universally wonderful smile, and exotically dark brown eyes, but Gwen at that moment was a whole different basket of grubs. He couldn’t have told you if it was the familiarity of the design, the way the colors worked together on her, or some deep-seated need for something Erinaen in his life latching on, but Argit quickly found himself crossing the space again, pressing his nose against her throat.

He hated her perfume, was pretty sure that was why she kept buying it, but at that moment it was kind’ve worth putting up with.

“I oughta doll you up more often.” One of her hands fiddled with his mane and he felt a tinge of annoyance knowing his work was getting smudged already.

“My mom would throw a fit.” The smirk came back to his muzzle.

“So you agree with me.” She tugged gently at one of his ears, pulling him away. The shoddy attempt at a frown and glower couldn’t hide the fondness emanating off her, at a level they two of them generally didn’t show to each other’s faces. A level Argit knew perfectly well he was matching.

“Don’t flatter yourself, rat.”

#fanfic #1800 words of actual romantic shit i don't even know how or why #blame papa i am just a vessel #through which her madness manifests fic

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yungimmortals · 3 years

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phone numbers | jaime (ft. risa)

date: december 26, 2020

summary: a long-overdue phone call, a heavy dose of salt in an old wound, and a very low battery

An unknown number flashed across his screen. Never one to pick up the phone unless he absolutely had to (and definitely not one to pick up when he didn’t recognize the caller), Jaime let it go to voicemail, tossing his phone onto his bed.

Swiveling in his desk chair, he spin in a full circle before returning his focus to the project he had been working on since getting back to his apartment earlier that evening. Christmas with Katie’s family had been fun; now it was time for Jaime to recharge. Restoring a vintage typewriter -- Jaime’s Christmas present to himself -- was the perfect thing to do. In the last hour, he had polished it, ridding the typewriter of years of rust and grime. All the type-levers were in place, all the knobs and buttons in working condition. Now it was time to work on the carriage lever and the platen, time to get the machine ready for writing.

Dismantling his typewriter was a delicate process, interrupted again by the ringing of his phone. “Where is it?” He mumbled, turning is his chair and taking a dive at the bed when he spotted his phone. Snatching it up, he recognized the same number that had called earlier but was saved the trouble of a debate as to whether or not he should answer it when his screen went dark once more. A moment later, a voicemail notification flashed across his screen.

Curiosity piqued, Jaime unlocked his phone, raising it to his ear to listen to the voicemail. The last voice he expected to hear drifted out of the phone’s speakers and he dropped it in surprise.

Jaime, it’s me. I need to talk to you. I hope this is still your number.

Without hesitation, he returned the call. There was one ring, then two, then three. Jaime bounced his leg up and down before spinning around in his desk chair, his stomach a pit of nerves. As the line continued to ring, he was almost positive he had imagined the voicemail. But then there was an audible click, followed by the sound of his sister’s voice.

“So this is your number. Rowan’s handwriting is absolute shit, I couldn’t tell if that last number was a seven or a four. Can’t believe she wants to go to art school with that chicken scratch.”

“Risa?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Well, I, er. That is-”

His sister’s laughter sounded tinny, far away. “Jaime, relax. Oh, and Merry Christmas. Did you get our card?”

Jaime switched the call to speaker phone and placed his phone on his desk. He stared at it blankly before scrubbing his face with his hands. “Card?”

“Yeah, Ro made you a Christmas card in her risography workshop. She’s building her portfolio for college but I’m sure she told you that since you talk, like, all the time.” Risa sounded bitter as she spoke, changing the subject quickly. “Anyway, I need to talk to you about something. Is this a good time?”

In eight years, his middle sister had never once called of her own volition. Even convincing her to be a part of Jaime and Rowan’s ‘family phone calls’, had taken a few years of their littlest sister badgering her. Now Risa was calling and it sounded important and Jaime couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He must have been silent for too long, he realized, hearing his sister clear her throat.

“Jay, if you’re busy, just tell me. I’ll find another time,” she said, though from her tone, Jaime could tell that if they didn’t talk about what was on her mind now, they likely never would.

“No! I mean, no, I’m not busy. I was just-- yeah, no, I’m here. What-- what’s up?” Jaime pushed his typewriter to the side before rummaging through his desk drawer for a notebook and pen (just in case he needed to take notes). He chuckled as Risa told him to buckle up, already welcoming the familiarity with which she was speaking to him, no matter how strange it felt.

“This isn’t what I’m calling about but I might as well tell you while we’re here. Dad’s sick. He said you cursed him or some shit, but it’s all bull. He went off the deep end a few years ago. Totally cuckoo. I figured you didn’t know, since you and Ro have your stupid agreement to never mention Charles to each other. Says he’s seeing things. Monsters and shit. Which I would call bull, but I remember that creepy guy. You know, the one waiter at the Dog & Pony that would always stare at you and Mom when we all went for dinner? He only had one eye. I don’t mean like an eyepatch. I mean one freaking eye, right in the center of his head. Don’t know if you ever noticed that, but I did.” Now that Risa had started talking, it seemed she couldn’t stop. “And that’s not the last time I saw something or someone weird like that. There’s a girl who works at the nature center in the park and I swear, Jay. I freaking swear that she melts into the trees. She’s a dryad right? I got lunch with your aunt last week and she filled me in on some stuff. I don’t know how she got in touch with us. Said something about your dad, I don’t remember. But, anyway, we got lu-”

“My aunt?” Jaime interrupted, feeling guilty for doing so, but not seeing where he could get a word in edgewise if he waited for her to pause.

“Oh, shit. Wait, there’s a picture, did I mention a picture? Before I forget. It’s with your card. I was digging through some of Mom’s trail crew stuff in the attic a while back, looking for her old boots, and I found it. It says ‘David’ with a heart next to it on the back. That was his name, right? Your dad?”

Jaime blinked, surprised at both the abrupt subject change and the mention of his father. He didn’t want the subject of his aunt to drop but the photograph won his curiosity. “Yeah, that’s him.”

“Okay, so you’ll see it, but, like, it’s totally weird. There’s a lens flare on it but it’s, like, just across your dad. Kinda ruins the whole picture, you can’t see him at all. It’s like when you try to take a photo of the sun. Mom looks beautiful though, but she always did. I think they were at Otter Cove, and I know that was one of your favorite trails.”

Like trying to photograph the sun. Jaime almost laughed. Risa had no idea how close to the truth she was. Which reminded him, “You had lunch with my aunt?”

“Dude, yeah. And she’s, like, so cool. If you’re related to so many cool people -- myself and Ro included, obviously -- how did you turn out like this?”

He could hear Risa laugh on the other line and just rolled his eyes. He glanced down at his notebook where he’d written a collection of words: cursed, Cyclops, dryads in Acadia? The latter was underlined several times, whether from surprise or excitement, Jaime couldn’t remember. He realized his sister had started speaking again. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“I was saying, if you were paying attention, that we went to Geddy’s -- that veg place on Main? -- for lunch and she was telling me about some fancy neo-classical city? New Athens or some shit like that, I think. In New York. Is that where you live? Ro told me you were like, weirdly into Greek mythology one time. But honestly, that tracks with some of the stuff I’ve seen. Hey, how come your aunt was looking for me, not you? She said something about mist but it was. like, not even a foggy day. We could see out over the harbor. Crystal clear.”

“The Mist,” Jaime correctly automatically, then pinched the bridge of his nose. The list in his notebook grew longer as their call stretched on. “I don’t know,” he admitted, in response to Risa’s question about his aunt. “Did she tell you her name?”

“Artemis? Which I was like hello, weird, since I was literally just thinking about you and your Greek mythology phase. I asked if she was David’s sister and she said ‘if that’s what he’s calling himself now’. Do estranged siblings run in your side of the family or something?”

At that, Jaime made a choking sound, staring at his phone. The resulting crow of laughter from his sister made it clear that she’d been expecting, no, hoping for that reaction.

“Just messing with you, Jay. Relax. Anyway. She’s got this, like, wild grrl gang of hikers that travel the country? Gave me a pamphlet, told me to consider it. She said I could tell Rowan too, but when I did, Ro didn’t seem to care at all. She’s just got art school on the brain, I think. Your aunt had told me that would happen, said that the Mist was thicker around our sweet baby sister. But, uh, do you know what the Mist is? I’m, like, pretty sure you do since you corrected me a minute ago.”

“I-”

“Yeah that’s what I thought. So anyway, Aunt Artemis said you’re a demigod. Guess your dad’s name isn’t really David, huh? Last I checked, there’s no Greek god of boring dad names. Care to fill me in? Is that why I’ve seen some weird, like, mythological creatures around the harbor when we were growing up? Oh and Grandma Hana says hi.”

A distressed sound escaped Jaime’s lips. He had forgotten his sister’s habit of bouncing from subject to subject and here it was, smacking him in the face with more new information than he could handle at the moment. Christmas wishes had been exchanged with his grandmother the day before, so he didn’t have to worry about acknowledging that topic, thankfully. His brain was working in overdrive and he could practically feel Risa’s impatience, the longer he was silent.

“Jaime,” she prompted.

He sighed, massaging his temples as he stared down at his phone. “His name isn’t David, it’s Apollo. Artemis’ brother. They aren’t named after the Greek gods, they are the Greek gods. So yes, that makes me a demigod. And it sounds like...you can probably see through the Mist. At least a little more than most mortals.”

“Holy shit. And you never thought ‘hey maybe I should tell my sister this super freaking weird but also totally cool thing about me’? What the shit, Jaime!”

He opened his mouth to tell her that he hadn’t known until after he left, until after he read the letter their mother had left for him, but Risa was steamrolling ahead.

“Wait...wait, so that was the Artemis? Your aunt is the Artemis? And she- and she invited me to join her immortal Hunt?” He heard a muffled shriek, like she had covered the receiver with her hand. A small smile spread across his face. “Well, I’m saying yes...obviously.”

“Okay, hold on a second there. That’s a big decision, don’t you think you shou-”

“Oh no, no. I’m going to stop you right there. You don’t get to play the big brother card here, Jay. You don’t get to keep secrets for years and then tell me I need to think about accepting an offer from a goddess. And don’t say some shit about me looking after Rowan. She doesn’t need anyone to look after her. You’d know that if you were here. Honestly, she does a better job looking after me than I do her. Shit, wait. Does that mean Dad’s not crazy? Did you really make all those people sick all the time? Did you...make Mom sick? Isn’t Apollo the god of healing?”

“I wasn’t playing the big brother card!” He protested weakly. As she continued, Jaime blanched. Several times. First at the mention of his absence, then at the mention of Charles’ theories, and again at the mention of their mother. “I’m sorry,” he started, hoping Risa understood that he was apologizing for leaving. They would have more time to unpack that later, he figured.

"Charles is definitely still crazy. I didn’t make all those people sick. Mom either. I, uh, I only did it once. Made someone sick, I mean. It was a boy that bullied me at school during the years Mom was sick and Charles wouldn’t listen to me about it. One day the kid was beating me up and hitting me and, and I, I don’t know what happened. I pushed him and pushed? I don’t know, energy? At him, and I gave him the chicken pox or something, at least I think that’s what the school said. Chicken pox,” he scoffed, ducking his head, despite the fact that Risa couldn’t see him. “He’s the god of many things. Music, the arts, the sun. Healing, yeah, but plague and illness is the flip side of that.”

“Like the plague arrows he shot at the Greeks. Before you say anything, yes, I’ve read the Iliad. And The Song of Achilles, which, if you haven’t read it, you have to.” As if realized she’d gotten off track, Risa was quiet for a moment. Jaime was thankful she didn’t push him on the subject of his powers; he wasn’t sure what he would have said if she had. When his sister spoke again, she sounded farther away, her voice detached. “Artemis told me there are other children of Apollo. You have other family.”

It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation -- that was clear. When Jaime answered, he sounded tired. “I do, yeah.” Though his sister couldn’t see it, his expression was one of regret. “But it’s, it’s not like that, Ris.”

“I didn’t ask what it was like,” she snapped. After a moment of tense silence, he could hear her sigh. “I’m going to contact Artemis. Learn as much about your world as she’ll tell me. And then I’m going to join the Hunt.”

With a click, the line went dead.

Jaime stared at his phone in silence until the screen darkened, battery dead as well. He heaved a sigh, detangling himself from his desk chair to plug his phone into the cord on his nightstand to charge. So much for recharging, he thought to himself, knowing his own battery was dangerously low. Exhaling a groan, Jaime sunk onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling once more. To the constellations on his ceiling, he murmured, “That went about as well as it could have, all thing considered.”

#m: jaime #npc: risa #self para

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