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bitsandbobsandstuff · 4 years

Text

Ink on his heart

Summary: Here’s how Bucky Barnes got a haircut and then decided it was about damn time he controlled his own destiny - starting with a bit of ink.

Star Spangled Bingo Square: “A thoughtful gift”

Characters: Bucky Barnes x TattooArtist!Reader

Words: 7,400 Warnings: Tattoo experiences, a couple stories about war. Some swearing. Mostly lots of feels and fluff.

A/N: This one has been in my head a long time, I love tattoos and I love the idea of Bucky getting them! While I desperately wish I could draw the designs in my head, hopefully you get enough of a word picture to imagine. And yes, it is kinda long (I know, I know), but I couldn’t stop myself!

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

Not that Bucky’s counting, but it’s been three days, 18 hours and 26 minutes and he can’t get over it.

In the damp, chilly hours before dawn, he sits on the floor of the tower living room, watching the marshmallows in his hot chocolate melt in white swirls. Now and then, he lifts his eyes to the windows, finds the faint edges of his reflection in the dark glass, and tilts his head. Tentative fingers scratch through close cropped hair and a slow smile appears. Even now, he expects long strands trailing through his fingers. Believes he can feel the phantom tug of a snarl.

It was just a haircut. What a simple, ordinary thing.

But Bucky Barnes has never been ordinary.

That small act triggered a startling transformation. Decades of heartbreak fell away with that dark hair, revealing the shape of a man he begins to remember, and it makes him think. About small things, about change. About simple acts making an extraordinary difference.

The last haircut Bucky remembers before the beginning of his first ending, was January 1945. The memory came back one evening, of a tent in Austria, the heavy silence of snow drifting down. He remembers Steve with a dull scissors, snipping carefully along his ear, remembers the catch of a knife gently shaving his neck. It was a ritual they shared for years. When pennies were tight and life was tough, they took care of each other.

And then? Then there was after.

After the fall, after capture, after the world went pear-shaped. Hydra wasn’t concerned with the formalities of self-care, a haircut was functional. Sharp scissors biting into his scalp, rough hands tearing his hair, a harsh slap if he considered resisting. Get it done and get it done fast. The Asset has work to do.

He despised those haircuts.

But now, here he is. No more handlers and horrors. No more running. No more hiding. No more ropes dragging him somewhere he doesn’t want to be.

Wresting back his independence was exhilarating.

When Steve had finished this haircut - because Bucky still preferred a Steve Rogers special to anything - he’d dusted off Bucky’s shoulders and waited. Sam stood behind him, and Bucky rolled his eyes, expecting a barrage of sassy comments.

But Sam just ruffled the freshly cut hair and laughed.

“Not bad old man. Still not as handsome as yours truly, but hey - maybe someday.”

Such a simple thing, a haircut.

It makes him wonder what else he might do, just for himself.

Fuzzy and disconnected, an old memory flickers to life. It buzzes in his brain, images and connections filtering through the cracks and Bucky lets out a breathless laugh.

“Yeah,” he murmurs to himself. “Okay.”

He closes his eyes and sips his hot chocolate.

*****

Steve yawns when he answers the door. Blond hair spikes in every direction and he rubs his eyes, looking for all the world like a sleepy, overgrown toddler.

“Hey, man. Everything okay?”

Bucky leans against the doorframe and chews his thumbnail while he gathers his thoughts.

“Sure, just - can I get a favor?”

Bemused, Steve ushers him inside and Bucky plops in the red bean bag chair Steve keeps tucked beside his dresser. Stretching out his legs, he waits for Steve to flop back into bed and snuggle his pillow, before he speaks.

“Remember back in ’37 when we were coming home from that shitty bar in Midtown, and we saw that sailor getting a tattoo?”

Whatever Steve expected, it wasn’t this. It takes him a moment to conjure the image, but when it comes he belts out a laugh.

“That terrified kid gettin’ a big heart on his arm? Looked ready to shit his pants?”

Bucky grins at the memory, a milk-faced kid with hair dark and shiny as an oil-slick.

“Thought he was gonna puke on the guy.”

“Yeah, and didn’t we stand outside that window arguing while you tried to convince me we both needed one? Something about good girls liking bad boys?”

“Hey, I stand by that statement!”

“Oh fuck off, you know exactly what your Ma would’ve said if we’d come home with tattoos.”

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckles. “God, she’d a skinned me alive.”

“Damn straight,” Steve agrees and they fall quiet, momentarily lost in shared memories of a woman with a voice of steel and a heart of gold.

Bucky leans forward and rests his chin on his knee.

“You know, all these years and I’ve never really - done anything like that,” he admits wistfully. “Gotten something done to me, I mean. Something I decided on my own. If that makes sense?”

Controlling his own destiny, choosing to do something by himself, instead of always accepting things done to him - the idea is intoxicating. He remembers the pained grimace on that sailor’s face and he relishes the prospect.

Pain you choose to feel holds a different meaning, than the torture he knows.

“S’never too late, Buck,” Steve says drowsily. “You can do anything you want.”

Bucky contemplates Steve’s words. He can do anything he wants. Heart beating fast, he takes a deep breath.

“So listen, I was thinking -”

*****

For two straight weeks, Steve works on ideas.

The floor of his bedroom is littered with sketches and concepts, crumpled sheets of paper dappled with flowing lines. Finally, after midnight on a dreary Thursday, he knocks on Bucky’s door. The moment it opens, he shoves his tattered leather portfolio in Bucky’s hands.

“So, I guess, uh - here.”

Steve crosses his arms, his toe tapping nervously, and Bucky chokes down a laugh. Some things about Steve Rogers remain comfortingly unchanged. No matter how incredible his work, all confidence seems to evaporate the moment Bucky lays eyes on anything.

—

“Give it back asshole!”

“God dammit Steve, YOU’RE the one who asked me to look!”

“Yeah well, I changed my mind, now give it back!”

—

Bucky remembers laughing while Steve chased him around their apartment. He remembers the neighbors banging on the wall, shouting at them to shut up, and he remembers the smell of their forgotten scrambled eggs burning. But most of all, he remembers that drawing - he tucked that portrait of his mother in his rucksack the day he shipped out and it stayed there, a good luck charm all through the war.

Steve had cried when Bucky told him.

Because Bucky’s opinion was always the one that mattered. Seventy years changes nothing.

Tonight, he opens the leather case, revealing three separate drawings. Outlines of black ink and a rainbow of colors paint over the curves and breaks of a human form and he pores over each page. Each drawing is utterly unique, telling the story of Bucky Barnes in metaphors and moments.

There are no words.

His throat feels suddenly thick, cotton lodged in his windpipe.

“I can redo them,” Steve blurts out. He snatches at the paper, but Bucky spins sideways, blocking the reach.

“The fuck you will. You ain’t touching these,” his voice cracks. Blinking back the flood of emotion, he looks up. “This is - they’re perfect, Steve. Thank you.”

Steve blushes petal pink and coughs to hide his delight. He fails miserably, of course, but that’s one more reason Bucky loves the little punk.

*****

One week later, Bucky stands before a demure brick storefront on a slow Brooklyn side street, the portfolio housing Steve’s three precious drawings clutched tight in a sweaty hand. Glancing at the address in his hand, he looks up to find stenciled letters curving across a glass window.

BROOKLYN INK ESTABLISHED 1973

“Here we go,” he mutters. Before he can lose his nerve, he shoves forward.

Three steps inside the tattoo parlor, he pulls up short.

Wow.

Black iron chandeliers hang from the ceiling, splashing sparkles across plush velvet chairs, rich violet and bright turquoise. The floor is an eclectic mix of reclaimed barn board, full of knots and whorls in every shade of brown. Artwork in black and white frames line the brick wall, tattoo designs, letters and fonts, photos of finished work. The entire space overflows with warmth, and Bucky feels instantly at ease.

The front desk is empty, but he hears someone rattling around back, so he takes a seat. Piled high on an end table are bundles of photo albums, full of work; he sinks into the cushions and starts flipping through.

Immersed in the images, he misses the sound of quiet footsteps.

“Are you James?”

The voice startles him and in one swift move, he manages to throw the album on the floor and tumble from the chair. Pages of photographs spill everywhere and he crawls over, hastily scooping them up and babbling one inappropriate apology after another.

“Shit! Sorry, I’m sorry! Shit, I mean I’m sorry for saying shit. Fuck, I didn’t - oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m not usually so - ”

Soft laughter greets him and he looks up in panic, a more refined apology on his lips, but the words evaporate.

Crouching beside him, graceful hands gather up the mess of photos, slipping them back into the album. Dropping it carelessly on the end table, she bounces back to her feet and offers him a hand.

“No worries,” she says with a breathtaking smile. “I shouldn’t have startled you.”

Although he has no need for the support, Bucky reaches mutely for her outstretched fingers because he can’t help but take them. When she tugs, he allows her to pull him up.

“I’m, um - Bucky. Please, call me Bucky.”

“Hello Bucky,” she says. She shares her name and he repeats it slowly. Clearing his throat, he takes a deep breath.

“Thanks for meeting me so late, I know it’s after hours.”

“Sure,” she says lightly. “So, what can I do for you?”

This is the tricky part.

“On the website, it mentioned you had experience with - with tattooing around scars,” he begins carefully. “Scar tissue I mean. Is that right?”

With his question, her expressions turns serious. She observes him for a long moment.

“Yes, I do. Can I ask how long you served?” she asks delicately and Bucky acknowledges her perception with a short nod. He toys with the zipper on Steve’s portfolio, debating his response.

“Seemed like forever,” he finally says, and it’s the most honest answer he has.

Nodding silently, she motions him behind the counter.

“Come on back, let’s see what you had in mind.”

Hugging the pictures to his chest, Bucky follows, eyes saucer wide as they weave through the work area to her space. The shop smells like the woodsy smoke from the candles sitting along her table, mixed with ink and latex and an odd sterile tang. He inhales and discovers he likes it, the strange scent lighting him up.

Dropping to her stool, she gestures for him to have a seat. Bucky sits gingerly, wide eyes still staring. When she catches his eye, he flushes.

“Sorry. First time I’ve been in a shop.”

“That’s okay, there’s lots to see,” she says easily. Looking at the portfolio still clutched against his chest, she grins. “Did you have some ideas already?”

He thrusts the portfolio at her. Propping it on her knees, she flips it open and he beams when he hears her astonished gasp.

“I like the colors there, if you think they’re possible?”

“Sure, might take some extra time, but I can do it,” she murmurs, pinching her lip. Turning the page sideways, she examines every minute detail, shaking her head in disbelief. “This is exquisite.”

“I’ll tell my artist. He’s a real diva sometimes.”

“I’d say he’s earned that right,” she laughs, tracing the paper with a light finger. She flips to the second picture and tilts her head. “The grays and silvers might look nice with midnight blue for contrast?”

Bucky nods eagerly. “Yeah, I love that idea.”

She looks again, examining the intricate design.

“Can you tell me about your pain tolerance? The designs are beautiful, but they’re complex. Each will take multiple sessions to finish.”

Bucky drops his eyes. He heaves a sigh at the obligatory question.

“It’s high,” he mutters. “Very - high.”

Silence follows his admission. When he dares to look up again, he feels a twinge in his chest at the compassion he finds. He offers a rueful smile and she slowly returns it.

“Would you like to come after hours? It can get noisy during the day, if you prefer things quieter. Most soldiers like that better.”

There is a sweep of relief at her casual acknowledgement. He huffs out a shaky breath.

“That would be great. If you don’t mind, I mean.”

“Not at all. I’m a night owl anyway.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says quietly. “Me too.”

She looks back to the portfolio, carefully shuffling the pages.

The third picture appears.

And Bucky sees it, that precise moment when realization sinks in. When she realizes exactly who is sitting in her chair tonight. There is no doubt the drawing gives that fact away. Heart pounding, he flinches, steeling himself for the inevitable.

But nothing happens.

She meets his nervous gaze head on and yet - that gentle smile remains.

“Bucky,” she repeats and this time she understands. “Oh. It’s nice to meet you, Bucky Barnes. Come back tomorrow night, 9pm. Don’t be late.”

He leaves the tattoo shop feeling lighter than he has in years.

*****

TATTOO 1: FOREARM

“Show me a man with a tattoo and I’ll show you a man with an interesting past.” - Jack London

*****

Perpetually early for everything, Bucky arrives at 8:45pm the next night.

The bell over the door tinkles when he enters, and she looks up from the front desk and waves. His stomach unexpectedly leaps and he thinks it must be nerves.

“Hey, Bucky,” her voice is soft.

“Evening,” he says shyly.

“You ready to do this?”

“Could hardly sleep last night,” he confesses with a grin.

Sliding timidly into her black leather chair, he watches her arrange tools on a shiny silver tray. An arm rest is attached to his right side, and he dries his sweaty palm on his jeans before easing his arm onto the cushion, palm up. When she drops onto her stool at his side, he offers a weak smile.

“You got the email I sent with all the information, right? Did you have any questions?”

He scrunches his nose, recalling the long, detailed summary she shared. For each of the three tattoos he requested, she gave him a detailed analysis of the process for creating each design; broke down how long each session would take; gave explicit instructions on the healing and care process; confirmed each individual color and how it would be applied; clarified the tools that would be used, including their brand names and how each one worked; she even provided floor plans of her shop - outlining entries and exits and bathrooms and locations of fire extinguishers.

It was a novel of information that must’ve taken her hours, and he was inexplicably grateful for the time she spent just to make him comfortable.

“No questions, I just, uh - thanks. For putting all that together. It was helpful to have all the information. Helps me keep my head on straight.”

“Of course,” she says. “So this first design should take probably 5-6 hours. Since you’re new, we’ll start with short blocks and see how it goes.”

Bucky gives a jerky nod and she pauses, pressing her fingertips against the smooth skin of his forearm.

“Here are the rules. You’re in charge, okay? We can go as fast or as slow as you need. This is not a race, and I have nowhere to be but here. Any time you want to stop, you say the word and I stop. We can take a breather, grab a cup of coffee and start again - or we can call it a night. This is your experience, Bucky. You’re in control. Understand?”

There is a fierce surge of gratitude at her words. Gratitude for her kindness, for her acceptance. Gratitude for her.

“Got it,” he whispers.

And with that, they begin.

Bucky follows each step, while she measures his arm, while she considers the contours and angles of his muscle, while she cleans and preps his skin. When she finally applies a stencil, his heart is hammering so hard his teeth are chattering.

The low buzz of the tattoo machine fills his ears with a click.

When the needles touch his skin, sweat instantly beads his neck. Adrenaline drenches his tongue and for one wild moment, Bucky panics. Wonders if this was a terrible idea, because what idiot asks for pain, seriously Barnes, what the hell is wrong with you, why’re you so stupid all the -

And then - oh.

Huh.

Interesting.

Wide-eyed, Bucky follows her careful strokes, black lines appearing on his skin.

It does hurt - sort of. Obviously nothing he can’t handle; in the grand scheme of his life, this would register as a minor inconvenience, but there is a pinch.

But that spark of pain vanishes, when the raw symbolism behind Steve’s design hits him full force.

Holy shit.

How many times through the decades did Bucky Barnes die? And how many times did he rise, born again from the frozen ash of oblivion? It was simply what the Soldier did. But it was a shadow-life, nothing more. Bucky never knew how close he was to giving up, until that day above the Potomac, Steve’s bloody face beneath his furious fists. He was so far gone, so lost and forgotten, until those memories cracked the Soldier’s fierce veneer.

And suddenly he was Bucky again. Awake and alive. For the first time in 70 years he felt fire in his soul. For the first time in 70 years he could breathe.

Tears inexplicably fill his eyes.

“All okay?”

Through a tunnel, Bucky hears her voice. Hypnotized by the metaphor inking itself into his skin, his head feels waterlogged when blinks up at her.

“Sorry?”

She scans his face, her thumb rubbing the pulse thrumming at his wrist.

“Everything okay?” She asks again and Bucky feels a potent rush of euphoria.

“Yes,” he says slowly. The excitement bubbles over and he lets out an ecstatic laugh. “Yes! This is incredible. This is - fucking hell, this is amazing.”

Chuckling to herself, she bends back to her task.

“So I guess we’ll keep going?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Yeah, let’s keep going.”

Two hours later, the outline of the Phoenix is inked into his skin, crisp black lines like fresh paint. Long tail feathers are curled around his wrist, the lush feathered body splashed over his forearm, her wings spread open and curving around his arm, her head reaching toward the sky.

Born from ash. Alive again.

Bucky hates to cover it up, but she insists.

“Follow the cleaning instructions and it should be fine. We need to wait between the sessions, give you time to heal.”

At that comment, he fidgets.

“Actually, I heal pretty - fast.”

“I assumed you might. Usually I say 2-3 weeks between sessions, so how about you come back in 1 week and we can see. Let’s just make sure. Does that work?”

Bucky glances at the crisp white bandage on his arm.

“Okay, that works,” he says.

She squeezes his hand and he meets her eyes.

“You did great,” she tells him.

Bucky smiles in return. And he doesn’t stop for the next six days.

*****

When he walks into the shop for his next session, he carries a large coffee for himself and an extra large iced peach green tea for her. When he gets to the front desk, he thrusts the cup at her.

“Evening. Um, here. Saw you had one last time, so - anyway.”

“Bucky, thank you. I’ve been craving one all day.” She gives the straw an experimental bite, before taking a long drink and for some reason, the silly quirk makes his heart bounce.

After a quick check on how he’s healed, she declares him perfect and they get started, settling into a comfortable silence. After an hour of buzzing, Bucky clears his throat.

“Is it okay to talk while you work?”

“It is,” she affirms, dabbing at the ink. Glancing up, she sees hesitant blue eyes. “I’m good at listening too. Sometimes it’s nice just to listen.”

Bucky figures that’s a fair statement. He fiddles with a stray thread on his shirt.

“Do you read much?” He asks hopefully, picturing the teetering stack of books beside his bed. She perks at the question.

“I love to read. Have a pile of books on my nightstand waiting for me to find time. What about you? Are you reading anything good now? Any favorites I should know?”

Bucky swallows the happy surprise. If he could, he’d be content to spend the rest of his years with a comfortable chair, a cup of coffee, and an unending supply of stories. He could talk about books for days, he just normally keeps quiet, because most people aren’t interested in that facet of Bucky Barnes.

So he begins to talk.

He tells her how Natasha lent him all her Russian copies of Pushkin and Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, insisting that reading in the original language was infinitely better. He describes how he found a copy of Rumi’s poetry at a yard sale, and what an incredible treasure it was. He flusters recounting how much he cried reading ‘A Fault in our Stars’ and says he was scared shitless to even see a clown for a full year after reading Stephen King.

He talks and talks and talks, and when he finally stops to breathe, she glances up.

“It’s nice to hear a man who’s so well read,” she says and Bucky preens at the compliment. “Do you have an all time favorite? Something you never get tired of?”

A favorite? No question.

“Yeah, I do. Something I read during the war and kinda fell in love. It’s about here, I guess. About Brooklyn.”

At the description, her mouth quirks, but she keeps working.

“Did you ever think about a book quote for a tattoo?”

Now there’s an idea. He makes a mental note to think of a quote he could add as another tattoo. Or maybe another couple tattoos. Hell, one session in and he’s already addicted.

The comment tumbles free before he realizes he’s spoken out loud. He blushes at her laughter.

“It can be addicting,” she agrees. Bucky understands completely, seeing the vibrant crimson ink soak into his skin, painting the bird’s feathers. And then she pauses, meeting his eyes with a peculiar expression. “The right words can make you feel invincible.”

Setting the tattoo machine down, she rolls her chair back a bit and sits up straight. Lifting the hem of her shirt, Bucky sees a line of gold text inked below her ribs, his eyes following the flowing cursive.

“She was all of these things and of something more,” he reads aloud.

“‘A Tree Grows in Brooklyn’ is my favorite book too,” she says quietly. There is a long, unbroken moment where they stare into each others eyes. He should say something, he thinks. Something intelligent or witty or anything, but instead he just thinks about the fact that he found a woman in Brooklyn to permanently carve pictures into his skin and she has the same favorite book as him.

Bucky always was a sucker for fate.

“That’s - that’s really - I love that,” he finally says instead.

*****

A week later, Bucky arrives with a bundle of folders and an exasperated expression.

“This is really annoying, but do you mind if I finish some reports while you work? Got behind, someone’s gonna have my ass.” Bucky raises the papers apologetically.

“No problem,” she says easily. “Let’s keep your ass safe.”

Bending back to her task, Bucky snorts a laugh. They’re just a handful of mission reports, normally he types them soon as he returns, but lately he’s been slacking, because lately he has other things he finds more interesting.

Like the scene in front of him.

Together they work, each with their own pen. Bucky writes, she colors, and the clock on the wall ticks along. After awhile, she takes a break to stretch. Rolling her shoulders, she observes him.

“Are you left-handed?” she asks curiously and it takes Bucky a moment to think.

“Oh. Uh, not really,” he says. “But I can switch. Never been a problem.”

At the confession, she raises her eyebrows.

“That’s impressive. I wish I had a talent like that.”

He ducks his head at the praise. And he keeps writing, of course. Maybe adds a bit more flair. After all, the old Bucky Barnes did like to swagger.

*****

“Well, I think that’s it.”

It takes a beat before Bucky understands what she means. Confused, he peers up at her with a dopey expression and she gestures at his arm.

He feels his heart lurch.

It flames to life along his arm, painted in vibrant ruby red and rich crimson and deep plum, highlights edged in shining gold. Mesmerized, Bucky stares down at the lines of ink and he flexes, the tendons of his arm shifting, and the bird moves. For one wild moment, he believes if he stays still, it could leap from his skin and take flight.

It leaves him breathless.

“God, this is better - fuck, it’s so much better - than I ever imagined. How did you - wow. I don’t know how you did it, but - thank you. Thank you so much.”

Unanticipated emotion makes his voice tremble. Because this is the first time Bucky Barnes chose something permanent for himself. Serums and metal arms and bullets and blades, those were always forced upon him, his pleading refusals met with violence and sneering indifference.

But this?

This.

This is all his.

*****

TATTOO 2: BACK

“Wear your heart on your sleeve in this life.” - Sylvia Plath

*****

“So, uh, how exactly does this work?”

Standing beside the leather chair while she organizes her inks, Bucky wrinkles his nose. She looks up and motions for him to turn, straddling the chair with his chest pressed against the back.

“Are you comfortable completely removing your shirt? Or would you prefer to leave it part way on? I’ll just need it out of the way for the right side of your back.”

Bucky grimaces. Eventually she’s going to see his shoulder - he knows that - but he’s not in the mood to rip that band-aid off yet.

“Uh - let’s do part of the way if that’s okay?”

“That’s okay,” she confirms and he awkwardly tugs his right arm free, baring the broad expanse of his back. Tucking his arms in front of him, he slings a leg over the chair and rests his chin carefully on the headrest.

He says nothing, simply stays still while she absorbs the sight. Littered up and down his back are a litany of scars, puckers from the occasional bullet, thin lines from errant blades, and a few other marks he prefers not to define. His voice is muffled when he warily asks.

“Are you able to - work with it?“

“Absolutely,” she answers firmly and Bucky warms at the decisiveness in her tone. Her confidence makes him feel infinitely more positive.

This is the largest of his three tattoos, stretching from the tip of his shoulder blade and flowing down to his waist. It will also take the longest, but Bucky assures her he has no issue sitting perfectly still for hours.

It’ll be worth it. He can’t wait to show Sam - he’ll get a kick out of this one.

Once she applies the stencil over his skin, she goes to work, dropping into that headspace of deep focus. She works so quietly for so long, he falls into a trance, lulled by the melodic buzz.

When she speaks, it startles him.

“What made you decide you wanted a tattoo?”

He lays his cheek along the edge of the chair so he can see her from the corner of his eye when he answers.

“S’random, but back in ’37, me and Steve were out and I remember walking by this old tattoo shop over in Midtown. They had one of those big glass windows with the chair in front, so people could stand and watch. Anyway, we walk by and there was this kid sitting in the chair, and no fuckin’ joke, he was getting a big heart on his arm with ‘MOM’ written in the middle.”

“Ah yes, the ever popular ‘mom’ tribute. I’ve done a few of those,” she says and Bucky grins.

“Well anyway, I always kinda wanted something, you know? Thought about getting one before I shipped out, but I didn’t, and then it was - “ he pauses for a moment, but she encourages him with a questioning hmmm? and Bucky bravely pushes forward. “I had lots of years where I didn’t get to make my own decisions. And there was so much - bad shit that happened to me. Anyway, I guess I thought if someone’s gonna do something to me, I wanted it to be on my own terms. You know?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “I think that makes perfect sense.”

Bucky sits quietly, contemplating. The question has been rattling around his brain for awhile and it spills free before he can stop himself.

“The whole process, it feels sort of - intimate, doesn’t it?”

He flushes at the insinuation, but intimate is the best way to describe it, he thinks, this practice of someone permanently carving their art into your skin.

“It is intimate,” she says softly, leaning closer. “It’s almost like you’re - leaving a piece of your soul under someone’s skin? I don’t know if that makes sense, but that’s what it’s always felt like.”

Bucky nods, watching her capable, artistic, beautiful hands as they move, slowly transferring bits and pieces of herself to him.

What a gift. He holds on tight.

*****

It was bound to happen at one of the sessions.

It’s been dark and rainy for days, buckets dumped from the heavens, the perpetual grumble of thunder always near. When Bucky comes through the front door, he feels like a wet dog. He shakes out his jacket, stomps his boots. He feels off base tonight, the result of bad sleep, bad dreams, and one particularly bad mission. He’s frustrated with himself for bringing it with him, thinks maybe he should’ve cancelled, but the thought of skipping his session - both the ink and her - was too depressing.

So instead of holing up in his room and moping under the covers, he braved the storm.

The one inside and out.

Searching for calm, he licks chapped lips.

“Hey,” he says, cringing when his voice cracks.

“Hey, Buck,” she turns cheerfully, but when she sees him squinting at her through the droplets cascading down his face, his shoulders hunched and tense, she stops. Looks him up and down and her expression softens. Beckoning him back, she digs up a towel and a dry t-shirt with ‘BROOKLYN INK’ stamped across the front, ushering him to the bathroom.

“Take all the time you need. No rush.”

Bucky mumbles his thanks and shuts the door. Gripping the sink, he glares at the mirror, at the smudge of dark beneath his eyes, at the clench of his jaw. Closing his eyes, he breathes slow and deep.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.”

He repeats the mantra, determined to settle. He’s been eager for this session all week, he’s sure as hell not ruining it because he can’t get his idiot brain to stop spinning.

When he finally emerges, he finds her arranging her work space. Halting in front of her, he keeps trembling hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes downcast.

“I’m afraid I’m poor company tonight,” he admits quietly.

“That’s okay. We can reschedule, Bucky,” she says softly and Bucky feels the disconcerting sting of tears. He rubs the heel of his hand against watery eyes.

“If it’s okay, I’d - I’d rather go ahead. Been looking forward to seeing you - uh, seeing you work, all week. It was just - “ he pauses and fights the temptation to spill his guts. No, he snarls internally, she doesn’t need to hear all your shit.

He clamps his mouth shut and shrugs instead.

She says nothing, but when she gives his hand a comforting squeeze, Bucky feels that familiar surge of gratitude. She guides him carefully toward the chair and he slumps into the seat, automatically tugging up his new shirt.

“Just close your eyes and breath. You’re okay.”

Bucky rests his chin on the edge of the chair. Troubled eyes flutter shut, and the comforting buzz of the tattoo machine fills his ears, muting the sound of the storm raging outside. When he feels the prick of the needles, he lets out a weary breath. And when he feels the easy pressure of her fingers, he begins to relax.

For hours, she works. Firm strokes, painting the story across his skin.

The dark night begins to fade before she finally sets her tools aside. When he climbs to his feet, she pulls him into a gentle hug.

Bucky sinks into her arms.

That morning, the sun begins to shine.

*****

Bucky’s been sitting for a couple hours now, eyeing the brick wall behind the chair. A question pops into his head and he feels like a jerk for not asking sooner.

“Hey - all these hours together, and I never asked you - what made you want to draw on people for a living?”

She hums at the question, and he can hear the happiness in her reply.

“Well, I always wanted to be an artist. For my eleventh birthday, my best friend Mike gave me this set of gel pens, there were a million colors. When I told him I wanted to be a tattoo artist, he let me draw pictures all over him for practice. He insisted on being the first person I inked, once I got my license. Would always tell people he was the ‘original canvas’ for my brilliance.”

When she laughs, Bucky chuckles with her; it reminds him of Steve.

“Sounds like a good man,” he says.

“Yeah, he is - he was,” she quietly corrects herself. “He was an EOD specialist in Afghanistan. Right before he left for his last tour, I drew up plans for the arm sleeve he always wanted; he planned to get it when he finished. A month later, he was in a convoy that was moving through the Gereshk Valley in the Helmand Province, when an IED hit his vehicle. He didn’t make it home.”

The story hits home like a kick in the face.

Too many soldiers, too many lives. Bucky reaches back to still her hand. He slowly turns to face her, gently tugging the tattoo machine free and setting it aside. Wordlessly, he offers his hand and she accepts it gratefully, weaving her fingers through his. It takes a few attempts before she speaks again.

“It took me a long time to get through that. One day I met a friend working down at the VA, and I heard a vet talking about the scars on his legs. He sounded so - sad about them, you know? Kept saying he didn’t recognize himself anymore. And I just stood there thinking, maybe I couldn’t help Mike, but I could still do something.” Staring resolutely down, she considers her fingers still entangled with Bucky’s. “I did some research and took some classes and - learned how to tattoo on scar tissue.”

Bucky gazes at her. He feels a sweep of pride at the way she turned her tragedy into something beautiful.

“I’m so sorry that happened,” he says and she finally looks up, meeting blue eyes bright with compassion. “But you should know, what you’re doing for people, it’s incredible. And if you don’t mind me saying, I think he’d be real god damn proud of you.”

A tear slips down her cheek and she ducks her head, her whisper so low he nearly misses it.

“Thank you Bucky.”

*****

Hours later, Bucky hears a clatter of tools and her huff of relief.

“All done.”

Wiping her hands, she pops excitedly up from the stool and Bucky pushes back from the chair to follow. Without a thought, she grabs his metal hand, tugging him impatiently over to a set of floor length mirrors along the wall. Bucky grips tight and obediently follows, his pulse racing. When she positions him at the mirror, she adjusts the panels so he can see himself from all angles.

“There, have a look.”

Along his spine, the single metal wing bursts free, so intensely realistic, Bucky’s jaw drops. It arches gracefully up, curving over his shoulder blade and sweeping down his back, razor sharp feathers tickling his rib cage before billowing out above his waist. Made from silvers and grays and shaded hints of midnight blue, it glows in the light. When Bucky reaches toward the sky, the muscles shift beneath the ink and it creates the strangest sensation of feathers unfolding.

All the scars littering his back, a flesh and bone patchwork of memories left by vicious handlers and fights too close for comfort, have disappeared. Blending into the steel of his new wing, their only purpose is to strengthen the image.

After all this time, he’s come to terms with the metal arm so unwillingly gifted all those years ago. But it’s remained a relic of a past life, something heavy, to drag him down.

But now, he rolls his shoulder back and his new metal wing lifts him higher than he’s felt in a long, long time.

*****

TATTOO 3: SHOULDER

“I can bear any pain as long as it has meaning.” - Haruki Murakami

*****

“So our last session.”

“Our last session,” he murmurs.

Bucky thinks for a moment that she seems glum, but maybe that’s wishful thinking.

“This is a tough one,” she warns, “but I think we can do it in one session. I won’t try and cover them up, it won’t work. The best solution is to incorporate your scars into the design. Make sense?”

Bucky pictures the pattern Steve drew, bright green leaves and vines tracing the seam of his arm, melding with the thick ribbons of raised tissue. It doesn’t matter, but he timidly asks anyway.

“Will it hurt?”

“No,” she says gently. Pressing her hand to his galloping heart, she shakes her head. “It won’t hurt much there, but you need to tell me if it hurts here. You need to tell me if I should stop. Remember, you’re in charge, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers.

Steeling himself, he whips off his shirt, balling it up in nervous hands. The cool air blowing through the shop is a relief for his overheated body.

“Do you mind if I feel the skin here? So I can make sure I approach it right?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Bucky mumbles. Staring at his hands, he waits.

Leaning close, her fingers brush over him, feeling the lines and ridges, assessing the canvas. For ten minutes, she tests his skin, lightly pushing and pressing, observing the scars and bumps where metal meets man.

“Does it still hurt?”

She doesn’t want to ask, but needs to know what she’s working with. With a grim smile, he shrugs.

“Not really. Aches sometimes, but doesn’t hurt. Can’t feel much there besides some pressure.”

Nodding, she pinches her lip. “I was thinking last night, um - would you want to add anything else into the design? Nothing big, but a few flowers? Some daisies maybe?”

“Sure, I’d like that. Any reason for daisies?” Bucky asks curiously.

Pulling out a few additional bottles of ink, she absently touches the necklace at her throat, and Bucky sees a silver daisy spinning.

“Daisies represent new beginnings. Thought it might be a nice way to end, if you like?”

Does he like it? The idea of having this small thing in common?

Hell yes he likes it.

Maybe - maybe he even more than likes it?

“Yeah. That sounds perfect,” he says softly. He swallows hard and she nods encouragingly.

“Okay. Remember - stop me if you need a break.”

This one, Bucky knows will be hard. It was the reason he left it to the end - the mental fortitude required here is much different.

As she begins, he contemplates the pink furrows gouged into his skin. The memory of how they got there flashes before him, a sick image of shredded skin raked bloody beneath his blunt fingernails. Faint screams of a past life echo in his ears, the smokey cry of his own voice desperate for relief from the pain.

Cold sweat slides down his face and he slams his eyes shut, but that seems to make it worse. The images glow technicolor bright, and he grunts a frustrated breath.

And then, through the thin latex of her glove, he feels her cool hand press against his pounding heart. Cracking an eye open, he finds her calm face and he focuses on her, until his breathing begins to ease. Blinking rapidly, he drinks in the curve of her nose, the shape of her mouth, the beauty of her eyes.

His heart stutters, stunning him into a different kind of breathless.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, wide eyes locked on hers. “Yeah, I’m okay. You can keep going.”

When she bends back to her task, Bucky melts. It occurs to him, that perhaps if she might let him, he could be content watching her forever.

But for tonight, this forever lasts only a few hours before she’s done.

And there it is.

Shades of green line his shoulder, the vines curling and winding around his scars, blending them seamlessly into the foliage covering his skin. Spidering vines trail across his chest, and it seems incompatible in a way, something alive bursting from the stark metal, but the leaves look so real, he swears they flutter with each breath he takes. Strewn throughout the greenery, small splotches of yellow and white reveal her daisies and he sucks in a breath.

For the first time in his life, Bucky stares at his scars and a foreign word comes to mind, one he never, ever thought to use.

“Beautiful,” he breathes. “They’re beautiful.”

*****

And so, after 3 months and 30 hours together, they were done.

Hands in his pockets, Bucky gazes at her. Ink on her hands, ink on his heart. It hits him then, this is it. They shuffle, making small talk, neither ready to say goodbye.

“Promise you’ll come back if you decide on anything else. Tattoos, piercings, anything,” she teases and Bucky laughs.

“Told you, I might be a little addicted,” he admits, knowing full well he means to tattoos and to her. “Soon as I can think of a reason, I’ll be back.”

“I hope so,” she says. There is a brief moment where she seems to gather her courage and then she leans in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’re a work of art, Bucky, but - you were before any of this. Remember that.”

Dazed, Bucky touches his cheek.

Indelible and perfect, the tattoo of her lips inks itself straight onto his heart.

*****

When she arrives at the shop the next day, there is a new sight sitting on the front desk.

Daisies, their white petals and yellow faces as fresh as the afternoon sunshine filtering through the window. Bemused, she looks around the bustling shop and spies the card propped beside the overflowing vase, her name scrawled across the front.

“When I got home, I stood in front of the mirror for hours, staring at your artwork. Every time I told myself to go to sleep, I found something new I loved. The tail feathers on my Phoenix or the petals of your daisies. What you’ve given me is more than I ever hoped - I can never thank you enough.

But anyway, I remembered what you said - how this kind of art is like leaving a piece of your soul under someone’s skin.

Well, I won’t lie - you must have done, because I miss you already.

So at the risk of being forward (although I did break into your shop and leave this, so maybe this won’t seem that forward), would you have dinner with me?

I think there’s another new beginning waiting out there, if you’d like to find it with me.

Yours,

Bucky”

At the bottom of the note, a phone number is printed.

Brushing her fingers over the delicate white petals, she pictures him, that dark haired man with eyes like blue ink, so heartbreakingly beautiful inside and out. She feels the unconscious pull of her heart, telling her all she needs to know.

A new beginning.

She says yes.

*****

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #SSB2020 #bucky fic #bitsmasterlist #tattoos #tattoo trope

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sonybees · 3 years

Text

random harry potter characters headcanons because i am bored

includes: fred, george, harry, ron, hermione, ginny, luna, seamus, dean, neville, padma, parvati, cedric, angelina, alicia, katie, cho, draco, adrian, blaise, and pansy.

warnings: slight modern!au, swearing, food mention

these are all headcanons i made on the spot so i’m sorry if they suck. i’m just really bored. it is also all over the place. a lot of these are collabs between some characters. i hope you enjoy though!

(by the way, the little dashes are just dividers)

rest under the cut!

fred would dance around his room at 3 am to literally any song.

jazz, classical, rock, metal, pop he does not give a fuck.

he woke up george once by jumping on his bed and playing all star on his electric guitar.

probably a song writer

uses “life is short” as an excuse to act on his bad decisions

dancing in the rain is one of his favorite things to do

sleeps at 3 am or pm, you decide.

hopeless romantic

good old fashioned lover boy by queen is his song

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

george loves birds and bugs. completely unrelated to the last one but it’s true.

saw an injured bird outside his room when he was 5.

he cried and immediately took it in.

also cries when someone kills a bug.

thinks the bug’s family would be angry and disappointed in him.

enjoys painting random objects in his room

loves being called pet names

something like dear, honey, or hubby would make his heart burst

loves using them for his significant other as well

hopeless romantic part 2

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

harry is a night owl and he likes reading comic books.

he likes listening to rock music. i said what i said.

prefers being alone

likes quiet places and probably has a hideout

usually doesn’t understand poetry until he reads it like 20 times

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

ron adores ducks.

tears up when he sees them and always used to beg molly to keep them.

still tears up to this day.

not a big fan of seagulls though

he’s scared of them

but eagles are cool

likes country and rock music

also takes an interest in photography

the breakfast club is his favorite movie

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

hermione loves listening to taylor swift.

reads to her songs always.

ravenclaws save her a special seat in their common room because a lot of them grew quite fond of her

a taste tester for hufflepuffs who go to katie’s lessons you’ll understand this later

she actually enjoys dressing up as well even if there wasn’t an event

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

ginny accompanies dean while he draws.

she just likes looking at other people do what they love so it’s not only dean.

she sometimes zones out looking at hermione read a book, always taking note of the facial expressions and guessing what she just read,

catching harry push his glasses up or cleaning them,

also is with luna every time she paints.

luna has a few artworks with ginny as her muse.

gin likes the simple things in life.

loves board games

sometimes a little too competitive

struts down the hallways with her significant other

she’d never admit it but she loves 10 things i hate about you

has a soft spot for slytherins

luna almost always goes with neville to the gardens.

she helps him with whatever he needs and sometimes draws a few stuff.

she’s a photographer too so she loves waking up early in the morning and taking photos.

amazing at braiding hair

and making flower crowns

likes reading royal fantasy books

watches 10 things i hate about you with ginny

has a soft spot for slytherins

seamus also hangs out with luna sometimes,

talking to each other about whatever.

he thinks she’s interesting and would make great conversations.

she does.

he also took some painting lessons from her

meditates

loves pumpkin juice

likes the movie my girl

has cried more than he will ever admit

has a soft spot for slytherins

dean has a wall in the boys dorm room where he puts up all his drawings.

the guys love it and always just stares at all of them in awe.

they’re all so amazing

is usually the first to notice when someone is sick

takes care of them immediately

loves sweaters

knows how to speak in latin

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

neville goes to hagrid way more often than anyone thought.

he learned how to take care of the creatures, make some awesome tea,

he also sometimes helps hagrid clean his own house.

helps others in herbology

likes green tea

loves overalls

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

padma holds a record of the fastest writer at hogwarts

yeah, she’s amazing at it

ended up publishing her own fantasy book starting at hogwarts

sold out faster than expected

she is also a singer

amazing singer

movie marathons are her thing

prefers crime shows/movies

soft spot for gryffindors

parvati is very very very protective over her sister

does archery and is amazing at it

a very chill person until you mess with her loved ones

loves sixteen candles

adores puppies

watches big bang theory

soft spot for slytherins

cedric plays the piano.

the ravenclaw common room is where the only piano is at hogwarts so he goes there quite often.

everyone loves hearing him play.

other students gather around with their instruments and sing along as well.

wears glasses for reading

netflix type of guy

probably a theatre kid

has a soft spot for gryffindors

angelina also took piano lessons from cedric.

she just asked him one day where he learned it and he said his father taught him and he could tell that she wanted to learn.

so, he offered to teach her.

she was a natural at it and the lessons are always fun, even for the ravenclaws

angelina is also a tutor at hogwarts.

it all started with george and fred and she realized that she actually quite enjoyed it.

all her students love her

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

alicia is always the group leader in every group work she’s ever done.

she’s also usually the main organizer for any event at hogwarts.

she’s usually there with the help of angelina and katie.

they all work very well together

has a soft spot for slytherins

katie has a passion for cooking.

she’s friends with a lot of hufflepuffs and she meets a lot of them by the kitchens.

in there, they watch her cook amazing dishes and baked goods.

she was able to teach a few others how to as well.

the house elves love her.

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

cho has an interest in fashion designing.

mcgonagall found her making a dress once in an empty hallway with some cool music playing.

minnie was amazed.

she was also able to start a fashion club at hogwarts.

luna, katie, dean and a few other were apart of this club as well.

likes pudding as much as luna does

has a soft spot for gryffindors

draco plays the violin.

pretty unexpected to his friends because he never really told anyone til goyle walked in on him playing in his dorm room.

he is actually very good at it.

combs his hair too often

the type to take too long at the water fountain

finishes his water bottle after like less than two hours of getting it

acts ‘ominous’ to the point where it’s funny

soft spot? for ravenclaws

adrian teaches young students how to play quidditch

his favorite color’s green for nature

actually loves reading and writing poetry

“most respectful”

has a soft spot for gryffindors

blaise seems very intimidating but is actually very sweet

shouts at quidditch games (much to everyones surprise)

loves the rain

likes dark academia movies

it’s basically his whole aesthetic

holds a record for most botts beans that fit in the mouth (without puking)

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

pansy has a whole drawer of jewelry as she should honestly

actually soft for cats but it’s not like she’ll ever tell anyone

loves playing with other’s hair

massages her friend’s backs

they do the same for her

a goddess at card games

is actually a gymnast

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

bonuses: george and fred’s favorite movie to watch together is bill and ted’s excellent adventure

all the gryffindors have a movie night at least once a week and others from different houses join along as well

hermione, ginny, luna, parvati, padma, angelina, alicia, katie, and cho have girl nights

the same with the guys though it was quite awkward at first due to draco being there but they eventually warmed up to each other (after like 4 months)

no one really knows how draco and the slytherins even got there but yk

they never tell anyone that they’re comfortable with each other now though

tags: @quadrupledeckertaco @audreysmusings @georgeweasley19 @krasivayadarling @crookedhag

and others who i think would enjoy this: @lunalovecroft @whizboyhalo @darthwheezely @sirlorelai @puntuations @cherryweasleys @amourtentiaa @whatthefuckimbisexual @gredmforge (you don’t have to read if you don’t like!)

187 notes · View notes

thr-333 · 4 years

Text

Just Another Class Trip :) Part 8

News gets out and everyone handles it calmly and respectfully.

First< Previous >Next

--------------------------

“Hi Tom, Sabine, how are you,” Selina gives a fake smile, not waiting for them to answer, “So Marinette's in town,”

“Yes is something wrong?” Tom asks worriedly.

“No nothing is wrong,” If you didn’t count the villain attacking the pool yesterday as wrong, “It’s just um, you know how I never told you who her father was?”

“Yes,”

“Well, apparently Gotham didn’t need the help and figured it out pretty much immediately,”

“So does that mean we finally get to be in the loop?” Tom’s eyes sparkle, he had always bothered her for the identity of his adopted daughter's father.

“Oh no one special, you probably haven’t heard of him,” They most certainly have, “Bruce Wayne?”

“... You dated Bruce Wayne?” The man who had become like a brother to her asks.

“I’m actually engaged to him now,” that already sounded so complicated and it wasn't even the tip of the iceberg. How did her life become so complicated? Well, at least she had managed to keep Marinette from it, well at least for a while.

“Congratulations!” He booms, “Oh what's the theme? We'll make you a cake! Wait no we cant send it by plane… what am I talking about! We’ll come to Gotham to make it! Unless it’s a destination wedding? A beach might be hard but I’m always up for a challenge,”

“Tom, Tom, it’s exciting I know,” Where did Marinette fall on the nature vs nurture scale? Because these two reacted exactly the same way, “But we have bigger problems right now!”

“What's the matter, Selina?” Sabine asks with motherly concern, much better than Selina could ever hope to manage.

“People figured it out… pretty much the second she stepped into Gotham at that,” Selina sighs, “The press is going crazy with theories, paparazzi basically stalking Marinette, Bruce is trying to talk to her about it … and he saw me with her, he knows somethings up,”

“Do you think it’s time we spilled the beans?” Tom asks, calming down from his wedding excitement, “Marinette's always known she was adopted but…”

“Not that I’m her mother? Yeah,” Silence hangs in the air for a while, the screen being the only source of light in her dark safe house, “You know I can try and work through this, no one has to know,”

“Hm…. if you think it’s best,” Sabine nods, before looking to her husband, “But if you want or need to tell people this would be the time,”

“Is… is that alright with you?”

“We love Marinette, and we know she’ll still love us no matter what, if our little family wants to grow then we should let it!” Tom exclaims, she should have known they would be fine with it, always so accepting that's one of the reasons she chose them to take care of her daughter.

“I’ll think about it,” She promises, cutting off the call to be alone with her thoughts.

Apparently her biggest hurdle was actually plucking up the courage to tell everyone. She thought she should at least tell Marinette, but lo and behold here they were in the Wayne manor waiting to hold a meeting about how to handle the rumor and Marinette is still in the dark. Well, she has no other choice but to commit now, try and get Marinette through her trip and out of the city without anyone being the wiser. Hell, she had kept the world's greatest detective from knowing for all these years surely this would be no more trouble.

Despite that, she ran into a little bitty problem while Bruce was explaining to Marinette how to handle the press; her conscience. It had been this annoying thing that started growing more and more as she spent time around Bruce. And now that they were engaged it decided to be a royal pain in her neck trying to convince her to be honest and tell the truth, how was that going to help with their marriage!

Surely this would be the worst possible place to admit it. Not only was Marinette and Bruce here, but the entire damn Batfamily to boot, sans Jason. If she were to tell now there would no doubt be bloodshed. No, the best way, if she was going to tell them, would be later in private, she could get Bruce to drive them back to the hotel and take a detour along the way, then she could tell them and bam! They would both know and her conscience would leave her alone, that was certainly the best plan of action-

And then Marinette smiled at him and Bruce smiled back, she didn’t even know what was said but goddammit-

“Marinette's our daughter!”

Everything in the room stops. Even those happy to mill about their conversation on the other size pause, a glass drops, she doesn't even wait for it to shatter before continuing. Floodgates are open now, no going back.

“Seventeen years ago, took her to Paris, pretended to be her Aunt, let Tom and Sabine raise her!” She stood up, bolting from the room, not stopping until she was far from Wayne manor.

Yep, I think I handled that well.

They all stood frozen, staring at the door Aunt, no Selina, her Mother had just run out. Everything was silent, for about two seconds before incomprehensible screeching. Or at least that's what it sounded like to her as everyone started shouting over each other.

“Did you know!?”

“No! How would I know?!”

“How could you not know! Everyone else did!”

“You didn’t!”

“That's because he said it wasn't true!”

“How the fuck-”

“Bruce why ,”

“By god how reckless can you be!?”

“This is… wow,”

Marinette didn’t stick around to hear the rest, slipping out the door Selina had disappeared through, like mother like daughter she guessed. Speaking of, she needed to call her Maman and Papa first, had the known all along? She was meant to just be an average girl… who’s a superhero… and vigilante…. And famous fashion designer…. And guardian- ok maybe she hadn't done a great job at the whole ‘ordinary girl’ thing, be she had liked to think she was normal at least once in her life… apparently not.

“Marinette sweetie!” Her Papa’s voice boomed over the call, “How are you?”

“Aunt Selina- not- how- I-”

“Oh, she told you?” Her Maman spoke more quietly than her Papa, calm voice calming her down.

“Me, and everyone else,” Marinette sat down at the steps to Wayne Manor, looking out at the front gardens without really seeing anything.

“Yes we thought she might, are you ok sweetie?”

“I’m shocked,”

“Yes well knowing her she didn’t handle it too well,” Papa spoke knowingly.

“She bolted now I’m stuck at Wayne Manor,” Marinette supplies, not that she really had a better place to be.

“Yes, that's like her,” She can hear her Maman laugh a little, “How are you feeling?”

“A little confused,” A lot confused.

“When she was pregnant with you she came to us, she and Bruce apparently didn’t have a very stable relationship back then and didn’t think either of them could take care of you,” Maman explains, “So she came to us, asking for just to raise you, she wasn't going to be a part of your life but I think she loved you more than expected because she kept coming back and eventually became your Auntie Selina,”

“Thats… wow,”

“Need some time?”

“Yeah,”

“Take all the time you need,” Papa encouraged, “We’re always here for you, and we love you,”

“I love you too,” Marinette smiles, letting the call drop staring off into nothingness.

The Kwamis came out of hiding to cuddle close but left her to her thoughts which Marinette appreciated. They sat in silence for a long time, Marinette worked out that she didn’t mind so much. Sure it was a shock, but it didn’t change how much she loved her parents, and it meant her family had just gotten a little bigger, or a lot bigger as Bruce had introduced her to a lot of people. The only thing left to worry about was the others, they didn’t seem very happy at the news.

Before Marinette can let the dread of that fester too long the front door opens, catching her attention as Bruce steps through. He seemed tired, and was that bruise a punch mark!?- no nevermind she wasn't going to ask. He comes to sit down next to her, neither talking for a while as they both stare out at the garden.

“... So Selina left?” He asks eventually.

“Yep, and I don’t think she’s coming back any time soon,”

“Of course not,” She shakes his head, a little amused, “Did she tell you?”

“No, but my parents knew- wait I didn’t mean!-”

“It’s fine,” He assures, settling her panic, “I just found out, I can hardly be considered a parent,”

“Guess not… What about the others?”

“Oh they’re a little shocked,” Bruce puts it lightly, his bruise being a dead give away, “I think they expected me to adopt you long before suspecting we were already related,”

“Just how many siblings do I have,” Marinette half mutters to herself, “wait- are they my siblings?”

“Depends who you ask, Dick? Yes, I think he already left to find decorations for your room,”

“I have a room?”

“If Dick has anything to say about it, also I suspect Alfred already set you up one, although I couldn't tell you when,”

“Of course he did,” That man seemed to know more than all of them combined, “So does that mean I can stay over some time?”

“Certainly, although I might suggest waiting a day or two,” He looks back at the mansion, light-catching his bruise.

“I might give it three, just to be sure,” She smiles, still wondering what happened there.

They start talking, catching up on each other's lives. Marinette skirts around anything that doesn't pertain to her identity as Marinette, Ladybug, MDC, Starling the whole gang. They are only interrupted by Marinette's phone buzzing, she picks it up, Adrien was the one to call but both Chloe and Kagami are there with him.

“Marinette,” Adrien says urgently, “Remember Cuppy?”

------------

Taglist (sorry put the taglist for another fic before fixed it now)

@smolplantmum @flufflepuffle296 @dawnwave16 @caffeinetheory @g-arya @Maribat-2k20 @ladybug-182 @Actual-disaster-human @fusser90 @messrs-weasley @soap-lady @paintedhope7 @zeneralla @mochegato @random-nerd-3 @clumsy-owl-4178 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @too0bsessedformyowngood @certifiedbidisaster @Purplegeekypanda @awkward0ghostfan @theymakeupfairies @tikki-marinette @insane-fangirl-of-everything @elmokingkong @inarachi02 @slytherinhquinn @moongoddesskiana @dast218 @buginetye @redscarlet95 @biodad-bruce-month @hansa-12 @waiting247 @toodaloo-kangaroo @how-to-fuction-properly @trippingovermyfeet @greekmythgal @whatthefox22 @the-alice-of-hearts @bigpicklebananatree @indecisive-mess-named-me @nalu-ismyjam @deepestobservationwombat @salamonka

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liquid-luck-00 · 4 years

Text

Fashion Show

Bio!Dad Bruce

Day 7: Fashion Show

@biodad-bruce-month

Ao3 ~~~ First ~~~ Previous ~~~ Next

~~~~~~~~~~

For the last three days in Marinette‘s break the main Batman family traveled to Paris. One they were going to set up Tim in WE Paris branch, and two they’re going to enroll Damian in school alongside Mari. However they had planned a small surprise for their favorite little bug.

They had gotten seats for the final two shows Paris fashion week. The last two shows being of Audrey Bourgeois and MDC.

However they weren’t prepared that when the day of the fashion show came around they were suddenly unable to find Marinette anywhere.

To say that they were worried that, they had lost their sister, was an understatement. The fact that most of them wanted to suit up to look for her may have been an over exaggeration but was totally plan A. However luckily for everyone involved, or really thank you Tikki for telling Mari to send a text to her family saying that she’ll meet them at the show so that they wouldn’t go running off and jumping off rooftops.

---

"Mari you really should be going the show is going to start and your family is going to be wondering why you weren’t there with them" Tikki prompted

"besides Audrey is the opening the show and she said that she would take it care of Your show too while you are with your family" Tikki gave her a knowing look before continuing "as originally you were going to still be in Gotham."

"Sigh do your right Tikki" she conceded to the little goddess "OK just this last little thing and done! OK I’ll just leave everything set up and then I’ll go out to the show. Oh wait I just need to leave this one piece for Audrey!"

She did just that, she had created a special golden, jewel encrusted rose that would be placed on Audreys signature sun hat and a matching gown for her finale/entrance of the show. Marinette could not believe it this is her first entire fashion line and show , granted it was under her pseudo name MDC, but that didn’t mean she didn’t work any less hard on all of these clothes. The only thing was that she would not be making an appearance on stage. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t going to be a signature at the end.

"Where have you been!" Dick almost yelled when he finally saw her coming from backstage.

"Well Audrey had asked me to come over" she answered with a shrug.

"As in the designer whose show is about to start" Damian answered in a bored tone, but she didn't miss the squint of his eyes daring her to back down from what he must have assumed was a lie.

"She had offered me an internship a while back and well I declined it at the time but I still work with her from time to time She’s even wearing a piece of mine for her entrance.

Then as the show began she shushed the boys "it’s starting” she whispered pushing them to the seats. Mari was still quick flash to pull out her sketchbook and throughout the show she took note of all the beautiful designs for later, taking notes to ask her about them later but importantly pieces of inspiration for her to use in later designs.

Between the two shows there was a break in order to change theme and the stage and everything else so that was when Audrey came out.

"Minnette it was pleasure to work with you again your piece was a huge hit if I do say so myself. Oh and who is this now?" She had all finally looked up and seen Bruce as well as his boys and Mari behind that Audrey couldn’t help but be impressed by the suits that they all wore.

"Ohh she let out a small laugh "I should introduce you guys. Audrey this is my biological father, Bruce, and my half brother, Damian, as well as Bruce’s adoptive sons Richard, Jason, and Tim." She pointed to each of the boys and her father respectively and then she saw Audrey‘s calculating eyes glimmer behind her sunglasses and.

'Gasp' "Marinette Dupain-Cheng or should I now say Marinette Wayne really you never told me." she feigned being hurt "Well no matter" she waved it off "I need to help MDC set up a few final things for her show. Now you will be staying for it?"

"Yes we plan on staying for the show" Bruce replied with a smile.

Then Tim spoke up excited "wait do you know who MDC really is I am dying to know who they are. I can’t find any trace of their identity anywhere and I’ve searched."

At this Audrey gave her a small discreet wink from behind her glasses "well it’s not my place to say, now, but I doubt she’ll be keeping it a secret much longer goodbye" she said turning on her heel towards the back stage.

That’s when Tim turned onto Mari "Bean if you work with the Audrey Bourgeois do you know who MDC is? Please, please, please tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me." Tim was begging.

That was when Jason covered his mouth "As fun as it is to hear you beg. You really let Bluebell speak and you need a breathe, or do you want me to knock you out instead? That way we actually all have some quiet for the rest of the evening." Jason discreetly threatened.

"Is it really that hard to figure it out?" she hummed to herself "Because I thought it was obvious." she looked at them.

"Wait so you do know" Tim questioned her again "can you tell me?"

"After the show Timmy" she said as the lights dimmed once again. As the show was coming to an end she made her 'debut'.

Out walked a hologram projection of herself, except no eyes or mouth, and faded from a red head and torso to black hands, feet, and hair. Her hair in a braid laying over her shoulder and was wearing a simple haltered maxi dress following the same color pattern but in reverse. In the black of the dress were embroidered a swarm of bats concentrated in the solid part of the color, the same in the red but with ladybugs. The hologram walked the runway bowed and faded away at the end of the runaway, ending the show.

It wasn't until they reached the apartment she, Tim, and Damian will be living in that they spoke up.

"So do all fashion shows end in such a dramatic way or is it only MDC?" Jason asked.

"Why not a fan of Dramatics Jay?" Mari asked

"Are you joking Little Bat that was amazing!" Dick supplied. if will say the dress at the end was an odd statement. "Damian added.

"Really I didn't think so" Mari countered.

"Bats and Ladybugs weren't an odd combination" he challenged.

"Nope" she only supplied.

"It was a bit Mini" Bruce finally added.

"Okay this is all a thrilling discussion, but Mari who is MDC?" Tim burst.

"Really, still haven't figured it out" she said confused. "I guess you guys need to renounce the title of 'World's Best Detectives'"

"What do you. You!!! You're MDC!!!" Tim finally shouted.

"Took you long enough boy genius." she smirked.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@mochinek0 @justafanwarrior @abrx2002 @ranger-gothamite @fantasiame @moonystars14 @mochegato @bigbeautifulandfullofsugar @maribat-is-lifeblood @iglowinggemma28 @miraculous-ninja @talutah0 @vixen-uchiha @danielslilangel @witchsblackfox @pawsitivelymiraculous @lizziejay @marinettepotterandplagg @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @dast218 @sassakitty @miyla-lokidottir @lilkymilky @tazanna-blythe @tired-butterfly @lozzybowe @smolplantmum @queencommonsense @loopingtangent @chez-pezeater @paintedhope7 @technicallyburninggarden @meme991001 @wannajointhecrabcult @melicmusicmagic @trippingovermyfeet @greatcatblaze @fidget-eep @miraculouslydumb @iamablinkmarvelarmy @laurcad123 @hauntedwintersweets

#bio!dad bruce wayne #b ! dbwm2020 #bio! dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #bruce wayne #batfam #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #batman #maribat #miraculus ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous x dc #mdc

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wonkasmissstarshine · 3 years

Text

The Chocolatier’s Rose {Willy Wonka x OC} Ch.28

GIFs not mine. Credit go to owners.

Summary: Rose and Willy have begun planning their wedding. They take Charlie with them to see their new friend Lucy about making a very special dress.

Tagging: @holdmeicant @willymywonkers @sleepiesapphicxoxo

Rose and Willy began planning their wedding just days after they got engaged. Willy let Rose handle most of the planning, but he was happy to provide some input when she asked for it.

"Cocoa bean, we need to think about who we're inviting" Rose said to Willy.

"Well, it shouldn't be that hard to figure out" Willy said. "We have a small circle of friends and I want them all to come"

"That's true" Rose said, scribbling a note down in her notebook. "Do you...?" She trailed off, afraid to bring up what she was thinking with Willy.

"Do I what, starshine?" Willy asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Do you want to invite your father?" Rose asked him. She could see Willy tense up. Yes, they had reconciled, but he still got nervous whenever his father was brought up.

"I-I don't know" Willy answered. He fiddled his hands against the table. "Do you think he'd want to come?"

Rose reached over and placed her hands on top of his. "Of course he'll want to come, Willy. I saw all those newspapers on the wall. He's proud of you, and he'll be even prouder that you're getting married. I think he'd like to be here to witness that"

Willy smiled. "Yeah, you're right, starshine! Let's invite my father!"

"Great!" Rose added Dr Wonka's name to the guest list. "That's it for the the guest list" She looked up at Willy. "Where do you want to have the wedding?"

"The meadow, silly!" Willy giggled as he reached over to boop her on the nose. "Where else would we have it? A boring old church?"

Rose grinned and giggled. "I was only kidding, cocoa bean! Of course I want the wedding to happen in the meadow"

Willy propped his elbow onto the table and rested his chin in his hand. He stared and smiled at Rose as she went on about the kinds of things she wanted for the wedding. He loved how excited she was getting.

"And I'm gonna have to talk to Charlie. You two are gonna become brothers, and it'll be weird if he keeps calling you Mr Wonka" Rose said. Even though Willy was staring at her, she knew that he wasn't really paying attention. She could tell by the way he was staring at her with that dreamy look. "You're staring at me again"

"I can't help it, starshine" Willy he said dreamily. "You're just so gosh darn beautiful!" No matter how many times she heard Willy call her beautiful, she still always managed to blush.

"Willy, you're making me blush..." Rose said shyly.

"And you look so pretty when you do" He couldn't help but tell her. At this point, Willy was just trying to get some attention out of Rose. She had been working on that list all morning. She didn't even give him his morning kiss yet. "Starshine?" He drew out the word as he scooted his chair closer to hers.

"Yes, cocoa bean?" Rose said, not looking up from her work.

He placed his chin on her shoulder as he pouted his lips. "You've been busy all morning"

"Planning a wedding is busy work"

"You forgot to do something very important this morning"

Rose looked up. She looked at Willy and furrowed her eyebrows. "Did I?"

"Yeah. You didn't kiss me yet"

"I'm sorry" She said. Rose gave Willy a quick peck on the lips. "There, is that better?"

Willy smiled as he shook his head. Then he took Rose's face in his hands and pulled her into another kiss. Only this one was deeper and longer. "Now I feel better" He said afterwards, resting his forehead against hers.

Rose smiled and hummed. "So do I"

******

That afternoon, Rose took Charlie and Willy with her to go meet Lucy. Rose needed a dress, and she knew that Lucy would be able to make her the one she wanted. They went into the dress shop to find her. "Okay, let's split off and find Lucy" Rose said. Willy raised his hand like he had a question. "Yes, Willy?"

It turns out he did have a question. "What does Lucy look like?"

"She's got fiery red hair. You can't miss her" Rose explained.

"Excuse me?" a woman's voice said. The three of them turned their heads to see a fifty-something, sharply dressed woman approaching them. Her name tag read Judy. "Did you say you were looking for Lucy?"

"Yes" Charlie answered with a nod. "Is she here?"

Judy looked between Rose and Charlie. "I remember you two from the other day. You here with a woman"

"Yes, that was our mother" Charlie mentioned. "Do you know where Lucy is?"

"I'm afraid she doesn't work here anymore" Judy explained.

"You fired her!?" Rose shouted at the top of her lungs. Charlie jumped from beside her, and Willy was giving her a wide eyed look from under his goggles. It was weird to hear Rose raise her voice like that. "How could you!?"

Judy quickly shook her head. "No, no, I didn't fire her. She quit on her own accord. Said something about following her dreams"

"Oh" Rose visibly calmed down. She flashed Judy a small smile. "Sorry for yelling"

"It's alright dear" Judy assured her. "When you work in the retail business, you get used to customers yelling at you"

"Do you know where we can find Lucy?" Charlie asked.

"Yes" Judy reached into the pocket of her blazer. She pulled out a piece of paper. "Lucy wanted me to give this to you if you ever came by again. Has her address on it"

Rose grabbed the piece of paper. "Thank you. And if you don't mind me asking, why didn't you like Lucy's designs?"

"Oh, I loved them!" Judy admitted. "But I didn't think they would sell well in this setting. Everything here is so formal. They would just look out of place" Judy sighed. "I regret being so harsh towards her" And with that, she went to attend to other customers.

"Good! We know where Lucy lives now so we can go see her!" Willy said excitedly.

"Let's go" Charlie said. The three of them left the store.

******

The elevator landed in front of Lucy's house. Charlie walked on ahead, while Rose and Willy followed behind him hand-in-hand. Charlie walked up the steps to Lucy's door and rang the doorbell.

The door was opened by a little girl around the same age as Charlie. "Hello?"

"Hello" Charlie said back to the girl. "Is Lucy home?"

The girl's eyes widened and she smiled brightly. "Oh, you must be her new friends"

"And you are?" Rose asked the girl.

"I'm Jenny, Lucy's little sister" the girl introduced herself. She opened the front door wider and motioned for them to come in. "You can all come in and make yourselves comfortable. I'll go get Lucy" Charlie, Rose and Willy followed Jenny inside the house. She brought them into the living room, and told them to take a seat on the couch, before parting to go get Lucy.

"This is a cozy little home" Rose commented, scanning her eyes around the living room. She sat in between Charlie and Willy. "And Jenny is a cute girl" Rose smirked down at her brother. "Don't you think so, Charlie?"

Charlie blushed. "Rosie!"

Willy suddenly jumped in his seat when he felt something brush up against his leg. "Something just touched me!"

A faint meow followed. Rose leaned over and saw an orange tabby cat rubbing against Willy's leg. Rose giggled at the sight. "It's a cat and I think it likes you!"

The cat hopped up onto Willy's lap. This caused him to grimace and hold his hands close to his chest. He was never really fond of cats or dogs. "Why would it like me?" Willy questioned. He looked to Rose for an answer. "It just met me"

"I see you've met Creamsicle" a new voice said. It belonged to Lucy. She and Jenny joined them in the living room. She laughed as she saw that Creamsicle was already curled up in Willy's lap. "She seems to really like you"

Creamsicle started purring and Willy started panicking. "She's vibrating now!"

"Willy, do you know anything about cats?" Rose asked him with a tilt of her head. Willy shook his head and this caused Rose to giggle again. "Well she's not vibrating, she's purring. That means she's content with you. You're telling me you've never had a cat, dog, or a pet of any kind?"

"Do the squirrels count?" Willy asked and Rose shook her head. "Then no, I've never had a pet before. Not that I've really wanted one. I don't really like cats. Or dogs even" He glanced down at the cat in his lap. "What do I do?"

"You pet her" Rose answered. She grabbed one of Willy's hands and began to guide it along Creamsicle. "Just like this"

"Oh!" Willy grinned. He looked at Rose again. "I do this to your hair sometimes when we're laying in bed" Rose let go of Willy's hand, and he continued to pet Creamsicle on his own. "I like cats now! Well, this one at least"

"Lucy," Rose moved her attention towards the redhead. "If you haven't guessed already, this is Willy Wonka, my fiance"

Jenny's eyes went wide. "This is Willy Wonka!? The amazing chocolatier!?"

Willy looked to Jenny and smiled. "That's me!"

"I'm sorry" Lucy spoke up. Her eyes darted between Rose and Willy. "Did you say fiance? Because when I met you, you said he was your boyfriend?"

"He proposed to me that night" Rose said. She looked to Willy and giggled dreamily. She held onto his arm and leaned against him. "It was so romantic"

Willy copied Rose's dreamy giggle. "This pretty little truffle is going to be my wife" He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Rose then tilted her head upwards and puckered her lips, indicating that she wanted a kiss on the lips. "Oh, does my pretty truffle want a kiss?"

"Your pretty truffle is always wanting a kiss from you" Rose purred at him as she batted her eyelashes at him.

"In that case," Willy cupped Rose's face in his hands. "Come here, pretty little truffle" Their lips connected in a passionate kiss, completely forgetting about the fact that there were others in the room with them.

Lucy smiled awkwardly and folded her hands together in her lap. She looked over to Charlie. "Are they always like this, Charlie?"

Charlie nodded. "They tend to forget that other people are in the room"

Lucy cleared her throat, which caused Rose and Willy to pull away from each other. They both blushed from embarrassment. "Sorry" Rose muttered out.

"Yeah, sorry" Willy repeated.

Lucy smiled at them both. "Oh, it's alright. You should never apologize for being in love. Now, what brings you guys by?"

"I need a favour from you, Lucy" Rose started. "I was hoping that you could make my wedding dress for me"

"Really? Well, I'd be honored to make your dress for you!" Lucy clapped her hands together and bounced with excitement. "What were you thinking of for it? Mermaid, ball gown, trumpet? Lace, sparkles, satin?"

Willy's eyebrows furrowed as he listened to Lucy list of the many ways a wedding dress could be made. "I didn't realize there were so many kinds of dresses" He said. He looked to Rose. "But you know what you want, don't you, starshine?"

Rose nodded. "I sure do! You said you could make a dress out of anything, right Lucy?"

Lucy grew a proud smile and crossed her arms over her chest. "I sure can"

"Do you think you could make a dress made out of cotton candy?"

Lucy's mouth fell open slightly and she stared blankly at Rose. "Cotton candy?"

"Oh, I knew it was ridiculous..." Rose muttered, her smile and shoulders dropping with a sigh. Willy pat her on the knee.

"No, it's not ridiculous" Lucy quickly said. This made Rose perk up again. "In fact, it's the greatest idea for a dress I've ever heard. A wedding dress made out of cotton candy!"

"Does this mean you'll make the dress for me?" Rose asked hopefully.

"Yes!" Lucy squealed, jumping up onto her feet. "It'll take me a bit, considering it'll be made out of cotton candy. And I'm gonna need somewhere where I'll be able to make it"

"You can make it at the factory!" Willy suggested. Lucy absolutely beamed at the suggestion. "And the the Oompa-Loompas would be willing to help you"

Lucy and Jenny shared confused glances with each other. "Oompa-Loompas?" The sisters both said.

"Yeah. The wedding is all they've been talking about for the past couple of days. They're very excited about it and want to help out in anyway they can"

"Okay!" Lucy said with a nod. "I'd love the Oompa-Loompas help! All I need you guys to do for me is give me a room to make the dress in. I'll come to the factory first thing tomorrow morning"

"Could I come too?" Jenny asked.

Charlie looked over to Rose and Willy. "Can she?"

"It's alright with me" Rose answered. She looked over at her fiancé. "What about you, cocoa bean?"

"I don't see why not" Willy said. "It'll be good for Charlie to have a friend his own age to spend time with" He looked over at Charlie. "Not that we don't like spending time with you, it's just—"

"I know what you mean, Mr..." Charlie stopped himself. He remembered what Rose told him earlier before they left. He should start calling him Willy now that they were going to be brothers. "Willy" Rose smiled proudly at Charlie and gave him a pat on the head.

With their visit with Lucy over, Rose could cross of the first thing on her wedding to do list. The perfect wedding dress. And she couldn't wait to see how it would turn out.

#willy wonka x oc #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #rose bucket #my oc #rose and willy #the chocolatier's rose

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bambisfuneral · 4 years

Text

Pairing: Tendou x Reader

Word Count:

Tags: Fluff

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: “𝙄’𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙤𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙚”

~~~

It was an unspoken rule that you’d stay at Tendou’s dorm room every Friday after school, and that’s where you were headed now with Ushijima walking beside you.

“I don’t know how you do it Y/N” You chuckled and raised your eyebrow at the giant next to you waiting for him to elaborate.

“I mean Tendou, he’s an odd one. Yeah?”

That was true, your boyfriend is definitely...... a peculiar individual; but that’s why you love him, and he makes you feel loved in the process.

“That’s not very nice of you to talk about your best friend that way Ushi” you sang teasingly.

“But you speak that way of him all the time, plus he knows that it’s just friendly banter”

Ushijima did have a point, the both of you poked fun at Tendou all the time but him to you guys as well. That’s just how your friendship worked, other people found it interesting how you and Tendou could open up another side of Ushijima that others don’t see, and you both felt special in that way.

“Well I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then, Y/N. Keep Satori out of trouble, I won’t be able to do so since I’ll be reading the latest Jump manga he let me borrow”

You recooperated goodbyes with Ushijima as he walked into his room which coincidentally is right next to Tendou’s room.

On the way, Ushijima had told you about how eager Tendou was to leave as soon as practice was over. Usually he helped put equipment away afterwards but he just dashed out the gym as soon as coach told them that they were done for the day.

You heard various noises when you walked up and a loud crash with an “ow! Ah shet” when you knocked on his door. It slid open with a very disheveled and out of breath Tendou but he managed to have a wide smile on his face like always.

“Hey my love! Just give me a second alright? I’m almost done!” And with that, he slid the door back shut.

You stood there with no idea what he was talking about, but you could hear some rustling and objects being moved around before a brief silence. It had felt like minutes had passed so you reached out slowly to pull the door back open but it slid before you could even reach for the handle.

“There we go..... take a look!” he stood there with his arms crossed and a proud look on his face.

You just pursed your lips together in confusion as he moved out of the way so you could get a view of his room. When you stepped in, it was all organized compared to how it usually is.

Usually his room seemed dirty, but he knew exactly where everything was. This time, everything was placed neatly in its own designated spot. But certain things caught your eye.

On his bed was a wall of pillows with a blanket draped over it. Then on his desk was a real miniature oven hooked up to an outlet with cupcake pans and packs of came mix. He had stacks of manga organized by genre by his couch, and a rectangle of couch throw pillows on the ground which looked like a conversation pit.

The lights suddenly switched off but there was green lights coming from the ceiling, you looked up and realized they were glow in the dark galaxy stickies.

“Now let’s see what’s first on the list!” Tendou exclaimed with a frantic nod.

You turned to face him with a grin that matched his, “What’s all this, huh?”

He shrugged as he squinted at a piece of paper he was holding, he pretended to push up his imaginary glasses before tossing the paper which just floated behind him.

“Well first on the schedule is giving the love of my life the best hug she’s ever had...... so come here!”

Tendou threw himself on you with a grunt before picking you up and spinning you around in a bear hug. You laughed frantically as he just chuckled peppering kisses all over your face. He might’ve been a bean pole but being in his arms is the most secure place you’ve ever been in.

He dropped on the floor with you on top of him with a lopsided smirk, “Now it’s time for some truth or dare~”

“𝙄’𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙤𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙚 with you Satori” You scoffed rolling your eyes, you lied down on top of his slender frame with your forearms flat on his chest.

He just pouted running his hand up and down your back, “why not love? It’ll be fun!”

No matter how hard he tried to convince you to play, you refused. Maybe it was the fact that everytime somebody was playing truth or dare and Tendou got involved, some wild stuff would start happening.

Somebody got lit on fire, another time somebody had to go streaking around the campus. Then immediately the next round, that same person got dared to send a picture of their ass to all their teachers.

“C’mon sweetheart, it’s not like I’d dare you to do any of that stuff. I save all those dares up for Goshiki and Reon” Tendou swayed trying to get you to say yes.

You assumed your facial expressions gave away your thoughts because he was talking to you like everything that was played out in your head was told to him.

“Okay fine, but only one round!....... and you gotta bake all those cupcakes for me!” Your brows quirked together in fake irritation.

Tendou quickly sat up bringing you up with him, he brought you closer to him and he hid his head face between the crook of your neck and your shoulder. You could feel a smile slowly creep its way on his face.

“Great! Now truth or dare?” He pulled back giving you a tempting look.

You huffed rolling your eyes once again before muttering out dare.

“I dare you to go in the group chat with the boys in it and sext like you’re talking to me” A devilish grin tugging at face when you quickly shouted out truth right after he got his dare out.

“Fine.... then is it true that you want me to make you feel good right now then cuddle afterwards?”

You just threw Tendou an irritated look but he could see the amusement in your eyes, “Yeah, that’s true. Now truth or dare?”

He stood up tall and proud making you fall back on the floor, he stood above you with his legs spread and his hands on his hips.

“Give me your best dare Y/N-Chan!”

Your eyes lowered before going back up to meet his arrogant gaze, “I dare you to get Ushijima to wax your chest!” Your face scrunched up as you felt accomplished, you felt like it was a pretty good dare. But you felt played when all you got was a hell no.

“But Y/N~ I thought you liked my chest hair!” Tendou frowned jokingly when he crouched down on top of you.

“You don’t even got chest hair to wax Satori! You got like..... three strands!” You still tried to coax him into getting other body parts waxed by Ushijima but he still wouldn’t comply.

“Then give me 2,167 yen”

You were met with silence before you squinted at you and stood up, you watched him intently as he walked out his room and you could hear the sliding door to Ushijima’s room open.

“Wakatoshiiiii~ can you please-”

“What do you want from me Tendou?”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #tendou satori x readee #tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #haikyuu tendou satori #hq tendou #tendou imagine

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p-artsypants · 4 years

Text

Longest Night (40) Homecoming

This chapter is dedicated to my irl friend Kris, who found this story on his own and then told me he was reading it, which completely freaked my bean.

Re-reading this story, I remembered thinking about having Tom and Sabine be stress bakers. It was more of a comedy point. But now knowing there are flour outages because of so many people stress baking during quarantine, I think it’s very in character.

Ao3 | FF.net

—

“Oh look at that! Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful, Adrien.” Dr. Boucher praised. “I love bloody skin grafts.”

Adrien was on his stomach, but propped up with pillows to keep the weight off of his chest. The bandages on his back were coming off permanently today.

And they would be going home.

Well, to the Agreste mansion at least.

Until things calmed down more, and the new security system was installed at the bakery.

“No sign of infection, no blackening of any skin. This is just what I hoped to see.”

“It still looks awful,” said Gabriel, mercilessly.

“Well, of course it does. And the stitches make it look even worse. But take a look at this!” The doctor pressed a finger against the skin graft for a moment and then pulled away. There was a white spot where he pressed, before it turned pink again. “You see? He’s got a nice blood flow. That means my biggest worries with him are mostly over.”

He took off more bandages lower down, revealing his buttocks and thighs. “However, the graft came from the groin area. The donor site is looking good too, but the skin is still raw and tender. Walking will be painful for a few weeks still.” Carefully, he rolled Adrien’s thigh to reveal the yellowish gauze on the inside of his legs. It just looked like a really bad rug burn underneath.

“Sitting might also be unpleasant, given the stretching to the stitches from your lower back to your calves. If you are able to prop up your legs, that should help.”

Adrien grunted in confirmation.

“Loose underwear and pants. The more breathable the better. You may shower, but nothing is to be submerged in water. If the xeroform gauze gets wet, blot it dry gently, and use a hair dryer at the lowest setting. You might have to do that a few times a day. As the skin heals, the xeroform will pull off. Just trim it off with scissors. It should be about another two weeks before it pulls all the way off. Your arm stays in the sling for two more weeks, but you can use it as need be. Just be careful. Continue to clean your ears with saline until all of the piercings are healed, then you can take out the earrings. Take all medicine as prescribed, when designated. I’ve included all this information in your care packet.”

“Thank you,” said Gabriel.

The doctor smiled and turned to the other side of the room. “And how is Marinette feeling today?”

“She’s a little sleepy today,” provided Tom.

Marinette laid on her side, away from Adrien. She didn’t acknowledge the doctor.

“Not excited about getting to go home in time for Christmas, sweetheart?”

“I’m ecstatic.” She said dully.

“I can tell,” Dr. Boucher chuckled. “Did you hear what I told Adrien?”

“Hmm-mm.”

“Showers are fine, but don’t submerge any wounds. Mr. Agreste said that your shower has been fitted with a bench so won’t risk standing in water.”

“Cool.”

“Take all medicine as prescribed and when designated.”

“Got it.”

“Would you please look me in the eye and say that again?”

Marinette turned to face him, and said calmly. “Yes Dr. Boucher, I will take my medicine exactly as prescribed and at the right times.”

“Excellent.” The man smiled. “I’m not trying to patronize you, I just wanted you to remember.”

“I know.”

“Good. Now, if anything happens after you leave, you trip and fall, some other symptom pops up, etc. call me, and I’ll come right over. No need to tough things out. We want a nice, smooth recovery.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Alright! Let’s get you dressed and checked out!”

—

Tom, Gabriel, and the Gorilla accompanied them down to the lobby. Sabine has stayed back at the mansion, preparing for their return. Marinette and Adrien were both put in wheelchairs, as they were both still too weak to make the trip.

As soon as they got off the elevator, applause began as staff and patients alike lined the hall and cheered them on.

Marinette sunk farther into her chair. “Why are they all here?” She asked her father.

“Because they love you, and they’re happy to see that you’re alright.”

“How could they love me?”

“Darling, you’re Ladybug.”

“That doesn’t make up for what happened. Just one unforgivable deed can ruin the public’s opinion of a person. Why would I get any special treatment?”

Tom sighed. “You’ll understand eventually.”

Eventually, they ended up at check out. Marinette paid little attention to what was being said. They talked billing and insurance, future appointments for suture removal and check ups. Boring stuff.

Adrien was by her side, about a foot away, and he rested his arm out, palm up for her to take.

She pretended not to see it.

Then soon enough, they were moving again, the Gorilla hurrying on ahead to pull up the car.

“Adrien should sit in the front,” said Marinette. “So he has more leg room.”

Adrien whined in protest, but Gabriel ignored him. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Before they even went outside, however, they could already hear the crowd waiting for them.

“Shit,” Gabriel muttered under his breath. “The media has been patrolling the entrance, but it looks like someone found out today was discharge day.”

“Don’t these people have anything better to do? Tomorrow is Christmas Eve for crying out loud.” Grumbled Tom.

Marinette pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up, and pulled the cords taut. Adrien noticed, and mimicked the action. The police stood nearby, ready to keep back the crowds.

The cold December air burst over them in a flurry, blowing right through them, as the voices shouted and cried out for attention. Mostly demanding and questioning, but some with anger.

“Ladybug! Chat Noir!”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Will you ever get back to superhero work?”

“Is it true that you’re both married officially?”

“Will you be passing on the Miraculous?!”

“Adrien, over here!”

“Murderers!”

“Have you heard anything from Hawkmoth?”

“Are you in league with Hawkmoth now?”

“Monsters!”

Marinette kept her head down as her father helped her into the car. She was placed in the middle seat, as Gabriel sat on her left. The Gorilla helped Adrien into the front, and placed the wheelchairs in the trunk.

Like the red sea, the reporters parted from the front of the car, but didn’t relent in their questions.

“How bad are your injuries?”

“Where are the other Miraculous users?”

“How could you betray us!?”

“What are you going to do with the money from the concert?”

The moment everyone was buckled and settled, the Gorilla peeled out of the drive and sped away to the mansion.

“Jesus Christ. I didn’t think it’d be that bad.”

“Must be a slow news day everywhere else.”

Tom pulled Marinette against him. “It’s okay, Marinette. It won’t take long before this all calms down.”

“Yeah, like in a few decades.” She muttered.

The ride was mostly silent, as Tom tried to introduce small talk. But between two people that didn’t talk, and two people not willing to talk, it was more awkward than not.

Soon they reached the mansion, and even more media awaited them.

Marinette covered her ears to ignore it.

The Gorilla pulled right up to the steps, the gate locking the unwanted guests out.

“I want to walk up the steps on my own.” Marinette demanded.

“Alright, I’ll be right there to catch you,” said her father, helping her out.

The Gorilla lifted Adrien out of his seat, and carried him up the stairs.

Each step hurt, despite having shoes and socks on. She leaned on the rail, while her father’s hand steadied her back. It was slow, but she was doing it on her own.

The doors to the mansion opened, and immediately they were warmed. Not just by the heat, but by the lights, the glitter, and bright colors.

Now it felt like Christmas. Garland strung across the banisters, little hints of Christmas scattered over end tables and furniture, and a tree, bare and surrounded by boxes of decorations.

It felt like a home.

Marinette let out a little hum at the sight. Her parents must have run home to collect their own decorations to make it feel like their home.

“Pretty,” she said with a little smile.

“Oh I’m so glad you like it!” Alya stood from where she was checking lights. “I had no idea if you were going to be up for Christmas, but I figured you wouldn’t at least mind the decorations.”

“Looks very nice,” she stated again. “I’ll enjoy it more in a bit. I really just want to take a shower.”

“Fair enough!”

Adrien whined.

“Stay down here,” she demanded, without looking at him. “It doesn’t make any sense for you to wait for me upstairs when I’m coming right back down.”

He whined again, but it sounded more like he was relenting.

The Gorilla deposited him gently on a chair near the tree as Marinette once again, independently climbed the stairs.

Alya rested a hand on Adrien’s knee. “What do you think, Sunshine? Festive enough?”

He shrugged.

“Eh,” Nino winced. “Adrien’s not really...big on Christmas.”

“My wife is obsessed with Christmas,” explained Gabriel. “Since she...disappeared, it’s been hard. A lot of memories.”

Adrien shifted uncomfortably.

“Then we’ll all make some new ones together.” Said Sabine, resting a hand on his head. “Then we’ll honor the ones you have, and it might not sting as much.”

Adrien didn’t look thrilled at the idea, but he was hard to read. He shuffled his feet, and pulled at the legs of his pants.

He didn’t really seem to be listening.

So they let him be, and got back to decorating.

—

When Marinette reached Adrien’s room, she sauntered over to the bed and sat down on the mattress.

“Great job!” Praised Tikki. “That was a lot of stairs! And you did it all by yourself!”

“Stupid thing to be happy about,” she frowned. “I’m strong enough, my feet just hurt.”

“You’ve got to celebrate the little things.” Tikki flitted over to Marinette’s suitcase behind the couch. “Otherwise you’ll get discouraged.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Tikki wasn’t bothered by the reaction, and only picked out some clothes and moved them into the bathroom.

Adrien’s room had also been decorated for Christmas. There was a garland stretched across the railing to the second story. Another undecorated Christmas tree stood in the corner of the room by the windows. The bed was made, with fresh sheets and a festive blanket on the foot of the mattress. By the pillows sat the little Ladybug and Chat Noir plushies.

Marinette grit her teeth as she leaned forward to untie her shoes. It wasn’t enough to pull her stitches on her back, but it did sting.

“Do you need help?” Tikki asked after watching her struggle.

“No.” She finished untying her laces, and then started to pull them off.

The worst of the cuts on her feet were on the ball of her foot, right by her big toe, and it hurt the whole time she slid out of her shoe.

She still had to take her socks off, but she was exhausted.

Tikki seemed to pick up on it and pulled her socks off for her, pulling gently to not catch on the stitches.

“Thank you, Tikki.”

“Of course Marinette. Please don’t feel ashamed to ask for help. I want you to get better.”

Marinette didn’t argue, but she didn’t agree. Slowly, she stood and sauntered her way to the bathroom.

The tile was cool on the irritated skin. She shucked off her sweatpants and sweatshirt, then her shirt and underwear.

Then she sat on the toilet, feeling tired again before she could reach the shower.

“Here’s your hairbrush.” Tikki added, dropping it on the counter.

“Thanks.”

“Would you like me to stay in here? Or wait outside?”

“Wait outside.” Then as an afterthought, she added, “please.”

“I understand. You want your privacy. Well, if you need me, I’ll be out in Adrien’s room.” And she shut the door behind her.

Gathering her strength, Marinette sauntered over to the shower and turned it on. It didn’t take long at all for it to warm up, and she slid onto the bench, sitting sideways in the stream of water.

Words couldn’t describe the comfort clean, warm water gave her as it rushed over her body. She scrubbed the shampoo into her hair and let the suds slide down her skin. The luxurious fragrance of expensive soap filled her nostrils, hiding the stench of infection and body odor. The dirt and grime that had persisted even after the sponge baths, were disappearing down the drain, leaving nothing but smooth, clean skin.

She used a washcloth to scrub at the bloodstains, rubbing her skin raw. Maybe if she rubbed hard enough, she could wash all the bad memories away. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

After her hair was shampooed and conditioned, and her skin was raw from her frantic scrubbing, she just sat on the bench, letting the water beat on her. Clear her head of thoughts, good and bad.

And just exist.

Like that night in the rain.

She had leaned on Chat’s—Grimalkin’s chest then. He wrapped his arm around her, and kissed her forehead tenderly, like they hadn’t just murdered 14 people.

A moment in the rain with Adrien.

How different things had become.

Before, she loved the rain. It reminded her of falling in love. Of misunderstandings turned to forgiveness, and friendships starting in the most sincere and innocent of ways. But now the rain tasted bitter. It was cold on her skin and made her hair hang flat to her head.

There was no umbrella, no laughter, no fireworks.

And even the boy she shared the moment with became a blur.

When living your last moments, it’s easy to say ‘I love you’. There’s no fear, no considering, no sorting out your feelings. Just the desire for comfort and to lean on someone, and to let your feelings known without regrets.

She loved Adrien, she knew that in her head. And she had moments with Chat Noir where her heart would beat faster and she’d feel at home.

But the twisted version of her boy was so foreign to her. They had both come out of torture as different people, that was obvious. But the month she was separated from him, something changed in his mind. It cracked. Or maybe it was the flogging, or even the akumatization.

Somewhere, the sunshine goofball she treasured was swallowed, and a blank slate was left behind.

Adrien and Chat Noir still never melded together for her. They hadn’t gotten to develop that gap organically. It was just a constant fight for their lives with no development.

It was her and him together, and that’s all it was. All it needed to be.

So what was different now? Why was everything so complicated?

Finally, she turned the water to cold, letting herself be pelted to numbness before she turned it off completely.

She stood, stepping out of the shower to get a towel.

But the marble floor was slick and her feet flew out from under her. She immediately fell on the ground, landing hard on her back and bumping her head on the lip of the shower.

It wasn’t enough to knock her out, but it did send searing pain up through the wounds in her back.

Honestly, it would have hurt even if she didn’t just get out of the hospital.

She didn’t cry out in pain though. She took the impact with as much grace as she could, only a rough grunt coming from her lips.

Now to get up.

She could do that, right? She just needed to sit up.

Sit up.

Sit.

Oh she was exhausted. Her head throbbed as she fought off nausea.

“Tikki?” She called weakly.

“Did you call me, Marinette?” Tikki asked from outside.

“Yeah...I...I fell. And I can’t...I can’t get up.”

Tikki was silent on the other side. Marinette hoped she had rushed to get help, and hadn’t shrugged her off.

Just a few minutes.

Just a few…

—

Tikki swooped into the main room where everyone was still decorating. “Marinette fell!” She cried.

Immediately, everyone abandoned their decorations and raced up the stairs, leaving Adrien alone on the couch.

Tom, Sabine, and Alya burst into the bathroom, while Nino and Gabriel waited just outside, giving her privacy, but also waiting to help where they could.

Marinette looked up at the sudden entrance. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Oh baby...” Sabine cooed, bending over her. “What hurts? Where did you land?”

“I landed on my back, and I bumped my head.”

“I’ll get an ice pack!” Gabriel called before leaving the room.

“Do we need to call the doctor?” Asked Tom.

“No, no don’t. I just...need some help getting up. I’m...weaker than I thought.”

“How’s your spine? Does anything feel wrong?”

“No, just my stitches.”

“Okay, I just didn’t want to move you if you hurt your spine.” Tom took hold of her arm and pulled her up to sit. Then he scooped her up and moved her to sit on the toilet.

Alya draped a towel over her legs.

Sabine scooted behind her, touching her back. “I’m not seeing any bleeding, so I don’t think you tore anything.”

“Girl, talk to us.” Alya demanded. “I see tears. What hurts?”

“It all hurts,” she confessed with a whisper. “But I feel so stupid for falling...”

Sabine took her hairbrush and started to comb out her hair. “Darling, no. You don’t need to worry about that. Accidents happen.”

“Dr. Boucher told me to be careful. But I just wanted to shower on my own...”

“Marinette,” her mother squeezed her hand. “We do not fault you for wanting to be independent or wanting privacy. You deserve it, you have the right to ask for it. This was simply an accident, and it’s not as bad as it could be.”

“I’ll call the doctor,” said Tom. “I don’t think he needs to come, but it would be smart to get his recommendation.”

“Sorry...”

“No apologies necessary, honey.” Tom kissed her temple, and left the room.

“Let’s get you dressed, Hmm?”

“Yeah.”

Only a few minutes later, Marinette emerged from the bathroom, clean and dry, dressed in fresh clothes. Sabine helped her to sit on the bed.

Gabriel handed her a bag of frozen peas for her head, and Nino gave her a glass of water with some ibuprofen.

“Dr. Boucher says he’s not too worried about it since she’s not bleeding or unconscious. He said there might be some extra soreness, but to call again if something feels sprained.”

“I’m sorry...” Marinette looked down to her toes.

“Really girl, stop apologizing.” Alya chastised. “We felt so helpless for so long, please let us help you now.”

Marinette looked up to her shyly, and prepared to answer, but before she could, a low whine came from the door.

Everyone collectively turned to look, only to find Adrien sitting at the door frame.

“Adrien? How did you get up here?” Gabriel asked, dreading the answer.

Adrien leaned forward to his hands and knees and started to shuffle slowly into the room.

“Nope!” Tom rushed to him and lifted him off the floor. He carried him over to the couch and set him down.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Gabriel reprimanded. “Why didn’t you just stay downstairs?”

Adrien flinched, curling up on himself at the shout.

Tom petted his head. “I’m sorry we left you down there alone. We won’t do it again.”

As soon as Adrien was on the couch, he was twisting to turn around to look at Marinette. He whined again.

Marinette didn’t look at him.

“She’s alright,” Sabine cooed. “Just bumped her head.”

His eyes never left her, as he just stared with an unreadable expression.

“Did you want to take a shower too, dude?” Asked Nino.

But Adrien didn’t answer. It didn’t seem like he had heard him.

“Adrien,” Gabriel stepped right in front of him and caught his eyes. “Do you want to take a shower?”

Adrien tried to look around him, back at Marinette, but she wasn’t looking at him. Not cuing him, not saying anything to him.

He didn’t know what to do.

“Adrien.” Gabriel pressed a little firmer. “Yes or no?”

Why was a simple yes or no so hard? He didn’t know! He didn’t know!

The decision was taken away as Tom scooped him up. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Maybe you’ll feel better afterwards.”

As he was being taken away, he kept twisting to get a peek at Marinette.

She never met his eyes.

Once he was in the bathroom, Sabine helped Marinette over to the couch. “Here dear, just relax. We’ll put a movie on for you both, and we’ll decorate the tree! Won’t that be nice?”

“Hm.” She hummed noncommittally.

“You know, you have a lot of people that want to see you. So for Christmas Eve tomorrow, we’re thinking about having a big dinner. With the Cesaire’s, and Grandma and Grandpa, Chloe, and Jagged Stone and Penny! Won’t that be fun?”

“Yeah.” She said flatly.

“If you’d rather not, they’d completely understand.”

“It’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I can call it off too. No pressure sweetie.”

“Yeah, mom I said it’s fine!” She barked, “If I didn’t want to see them, I would have said no!”

“Okay,” Sabine said patiently. “I just want you to be in control, but I also want you to have fun.”

Marinette sighed. Then she leaned over the back of the couch and looked in her bag. Not finding what she was looking for, she asked, more politely, “maman? Did you pack my favorite blanket? The gray and red plaid one?”

“I packed your bag,” Alya clarified. “And no, I didn’t. Sorry girl. I can go grab it for you, though! Anything else you want me to get?”

“Can you also grab my cat pillow?”

“Sure thing!”

“Wait a second, Alya, have Tom go with you.”

Marinette waited, sitting on the couch and looking out to the city. It was a gray, bleak sky, and even the buildings looked desaturated. While the twinkling of the lights in her peripheral vision showed a warm environment, the landscape in front of her reminded her of just how cold and unforgiving the world was. And how cold it would continue to be in the coming weeks. Perhaps even for the rest of her life.

Alya plopped down on the couch next to her. “So what do you want to watch? Hallmark’s got some really great ones this year. And by great, I mean terrible. We can play your favorite game: car accident or cancer?”

“I don’t want to watch a Hallmark movie. Too fake. Too predictable.”

“Alright, you want a classic one then? Something you’ve seen a hundred times before?”

“Yeah…yeah I think that’s what I want.”

“Okay.” Alya dashed up to Adrien’s movie collection. “God, he’s got like every movie ever made up here! Umm…oh, this will work!” She grabbed the case and rushed down the stairs. “I know you like this one!” And she popped it in the player.

A black and white film. A sleepy scenic town, covered in a layer of fresh snow. The voices of various people called up to prayer.

And then a sea of stars, where two stars flickered in conversation.

It’s a Wonderful Life.

It wasn’t Christmas without it. She’d seen it a hundred times, her heart hurting until the end.

It was hitting differently this year.

Eventually, Adrien was brought out, fresh and clean. His hair damp and combed back. With Tom holding his hand, he tottered his way to the couch to sit next to Marinette.

“Tom?” Asked Sabine, “Alya was going to run to the bakery to get some stuff for Marinette. Will you go with her?”

“Of course!”

“Would you like to take the car?” Asked Gabriel.

“No, I think a walk will do just fine.”

“Buffalo Gals can't you come out tonight. Can't you come out tonight. Can't you come out tonight. Buffalo Gals can't you come out tonight and dance by the light of the moon.”

Marinette had noticed when Adrien sat next to her. He still sat just out of reach. One scoot and she’d be pressed against him.

But she didn’t move. And neither did he.

“Okay, then, I'll throw a rock at the old Granville house.”

“Oh, no, don't. I love that old house.”

An old house indeed. It was a weather-beaten, old-fashioned two-storied house that once was no doubt resplendent.

“No. You see, you make a wish and then try and break some glass. You got to be a pretty good shot nowadays, too.”

“Oh, no, George, don't. It's full of romance, that old place. I'd like to live in it.”

“In that place?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I wouldn't live in it as a ghost. Now watch...right on the second floor there.” He hurled a stone at the window and broke it. An old man sitting on his porch sat up at attention.

“What'd you wish, George?”

“Well, not just one wish. A whole hatful, Mary. I know what I'm going to do tomorrow and the next day and the next year and the year after that. I'm shaking the dust of this crummy little town off my feet and I'm going to see the world. Italy, Greece, the Parthenon, the Colosseum. Then I'm coming back here and go to college and see what they know...and then I'm going to build things. I'm gonna build air fields. I'm gonna build skyscrapers a hundred stories high. I'm gonna build bridges a mile long…”

As he talked, Mary had been listening intently. She finally stooped down and picked up a rock, weighting it in her hand.

“Are you gonna throw a rock?”

Mary threw her rock, and once more the sound of breaking glass echoed over the empty street.

“Hey, that's pretty good. What'd you wish, Mary?”

She threw him a flirty smile. “Buffalo Gals, can't you come out tonight…”

Alya and Tom returned from their trip, and set the pillow on the bed. Alya dropped the blanket over Marinette and Adrien both, then settled on the couch next to Adrien.

“Scooch!” Nino demanded, as he wiggled into the seat next to Alya. Alya then bumped into Adrien, who slid over to be closer to Marinette.

Their legs pressed together.

She didn’t acknowledge it, or the little whimper Adrien made.

On the screen, George Bailey entered the old, run down house they had broken the windows to. It was run down, water dripping from the ceiling, and the wind was blowing the drapes around as the rain poured outside. But a huge fire burned in the fireplace. Near the fireplace, a collection of packing boxes were heaped together in the shape of a small table and covered with a checkered oilcloth, set for two. A bucket with ice and a champagne bottle sat on the table as well as a bowl of caviar. Two small chickens roasted on a spit over the fire. A phonograph played on a box, a string from the phonograph turning the chickens on the spit. A Hawaiian song played on the record. Mary stood near the fireplace looking as pretty as any bride ever looked. She smiled at George, who had been slowly taking in the whole set-up. Through a door, there was the end of a cheap bed, over the back of which is a pair of pajamas and a nightie.

“Welcome home, Mr. Bailey.”

“Well, I'll be...Mary, Mary, where did you…”

Ernie, the taxi driver, shoved George forward into Mary’s arms.

The record ended, and Bert and Ernie sang from outside.

I love you truly, truly dear,

Life with it's sorrow, life with it's tear,

Fades into dreams when I feel you are near,

For I love you truly,

Truly dear!

Ah, love 'tis something, to feel your kind hand,

Ah yes, 'tis something, by your side to stand,

Gone is the sorrow, gone doubt and fear,

For you love me truly,

Truly dear!

A searing pain overtook Marinette’s hand. The pain of a burn, searing flesh and nerves to a blacked char. She looked down, her clenched fingers unfurling.

Chat Noir.

That was engraved into her palm, the scar still very angry and red. The new skin began to show through, a pale white.

Then, by the power invested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.

It was the voice of the officiant echoing in her head, some of his last words before he was shot and killed. The man that had married her to Adrien.

She could feel the paint on her face, the itchy tutu on her legs, and the absolute humiliation of that mockery of a wedding. The drunken singing, the groping, the lifeless eyes of a corpse on the ground.

In that case, let’s get a sailboat. Sail the world. At night, we’ll be just a silhouette surrounded by a myriad of stars. Spend our nights on the glassy water, where you can't tell where the sky begins and ends. Just the two of us, free to go wherever we want.

That was Adrien’s voice, when it still sounded like him. The last time she heard him speak.

When we’re out of here, we’ll have our perfect wedding. And then we’ll go, and never look back.

“Marinette?” Alya asked.

Marinette just shook her head, and covered her face. She brought her legs up and curled up into the corner of the couch as far as she could.

Mary spoke on the screen. “Remember the night we broke the windows in this old house? This is what I wished for.”

—

Day number...who even knew anymore. The dark and the silence made time go on forever.

But the cement was not quite as cold, the ache in her knees not so strong, and she could hear traffic.

This is a dream, she told herself. Just a nightmare.

Just like every night.

The door to her little cage opened, and there stood Ladybug. Her arms were crossed and she looked supremely disappointed.

“Well?” She asked.

“Well what? You’re the one with the powers here.”

Ladybug scoffed, not moving from the doorframe. “Don’t act dumb. I’ve had it with your attitude.”

“You aren’t real,” Said Marinette. “And my attitude? You mean my trauma? My anxiety? My paranoia? You mean the fact that I don’t know who I can trust anymore? You mean the supreme weight of being closed in silence for a month? Is that what you’re sick of, Ladybug? My unheroic disposition? My unladylike mannerisms?”

Ladybug looked at her unflinching. “No. That’s not what I’m talking about at all. And you know it.”

Marinette turned away. “I really wish it was.”

“Because you have an excuse for it?”

“And a logical explanation.”

“I don’t think violent torture is logical.”

“No. No it’s not.” Marinette scoffed. “Look, do you have a reason for bothering me? Or did you just come here to taunt me? O ghost of Christmas past?”

“You know why I’m here.”

“No, I really don’t. This is a dream right? Dreams don’t make sense. They say dreams have hidden meanings, but I really doubt reliving every torment I dealt with in the past month is anything but trauma.”

Ladybug snapped her fingers, and in an instant, they were in Adrien’s room. Marinette was on the couch, where she had elected to sleep, despite the insistence against it from everyone else.

She didn’t look, but she knew Adrien was in his bed.

“You’re acting weird around Adrien again.” Ladybug stated coldly. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged.

“You don’t know? Really? After all you’ve been through together, now you’re avoiding him?”

“I’m not avoiding him!”

“You haven’t said a word to him since he fought his way to you in the hospital!”

“He can’t speak! It wouldn’t be fair!”

“You won’t even look at him!”

“That’s not true!”

“Look at him right now!”

“I—I can’t!”

“You can’t? Or you won’t?”

Marinette trembled. “I can’t...I can’t bear it...”

“Bear what, Marinette?”

It took awhile for her to have an answer.

“I…I don’t know him.” She confessed.

Ladybug didn’t answer, only looked down at her, waiting.

“I don’t know if I ever knew him. How could I, if Chat and Adrien never felt like the same person? And now…this—“ She cut herself off. “I’m horrible. I’m cruel. And I’m unfair. I’m not the Marinette I used to be, so why would he be different? Shouldn’t I just…love him regardless?”

Ladybug sat daintily next to her. “You know love isn’t easy. People change, and so must your love. But it’s not going to if you don’t communicate with him.”

“He can’t talk.”

“He can listen. And he can see. And he’s aware of every time you push him away. And he has no idea why you are. But, knowing him, he’s probably thinking the worst.”

Marinette turned to look at him. He curled up in his bed, looking far too small for the king sized mattress.

He looked restless and tense.

“You don’t have to have all the answers right now. But don’t push away the person who understands your pain the most. Now wake up!”

Marinette jolted awake, still on the couch. This time for real. She blinked a few times, noticing that it was snowing outside. The lights from the garden shined up to illuminate the flakes.

Then, she noticed the blond head by her elbows. He was sitting on the floor, resting against the couch and watching the snowfall.

“Adrien?” She whispered, ever so gently.

He turned his head, looking at her with wide green eyes, full of panic. He had been caught.

“Can’t sleep?” She asked again, still gently.

He shook his head, no.

She sat up, making room for him. “Would you like to sit up here? It’ll be more comfortable.”

He took her invitation and climbed onto the couch.

Marinette took note of his posture, tense, closed off, unsure as he continued to watch the snow fall.

“I’m sorry.” She breathed.

He glanced at her again, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I…this is going to sound so stupid, but…now that we’re not in mortal peril anymore, I’ve been thinking…”

Tears gathered in his eyes as he started to scoot farther away from her.

“No, wait, Adrien…ugh.” She grimaced and shook her head. “Look, Chat Noir and Adrien were always so different from each other. I told you I loved you, and I do, and I didn’t lie. But…if the reveal had happened naturally, I would have wanted more time.”

He looked less upset now, and more just curious as he cocked his head.

“Time to reconcile the two versions of you into one. But the person you are now is even more different…I’m just confused. And I still feel…really guilty about getting us into this position in the first place.” Tears started to sting at her own eyes before she shut them tight to will them away. “I’m sorry for pushing you away, Kitty.”

A hand fell on her shoulder. Sure, and strong as he gave her a little squeeze.

“Hey, no sweat Marinette.” She could almost hear his voice.

His hand trailed down her arm to take her hand, before he gave it a little squeeze and brought it to his lips to kiss.

“There’s nothing to forgive, my lady.”

When she opened her eyes, she let out a shuddering sigh at the look on his face. One of adoration and trust. That slight smile, and eyes that sparkled with warmth.

Adrien.

The boy she loved. Her partner.

The line was blurred, but not completely gone. But things already felt better.

He let go of her hand and held out his arm, asking for a hug.

She fell into him, letting his warmth seep into her soul. He smelled like Adrien used to smell, and had a quiet purr that Chat always had.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I really love you.”

He squeezed her tighter and kissed her head.

They stayed like that for a while, until Adrien yawned.

“Let’s get back to bed, huh?”

He gestured to his bed.

“Yeah, I’ll join you.”

He beamed.

Slowly, they both shuffled to the bed, and dropped onto it. Marinette spread her blanket over both of them and snuggled down to rest. The bed really was more comfortable than the couch.

Adrien hooked his ankles with hers, and reached out to take her hand.

She just scooted closer and wrapped an arm around his waist. Then she left a peck on his lips. “Needy kitty.”

He nuzzled against her head, lulling her back to sleep with his purrs.

#longest night #miraculous ladybug #ml #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrinette #adrienette #ladybug #chat noir #fanfiction

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elizabeth-234 · 4 years

Text

Iron Dad Bingo

Previous Bingo Card: Gender Bend

This was going to be for the No powers tag but I wasn’t sure if since Tony is still Iron Man it would count so I just popped it under Any AU!

Summary: By day he was billion, superhero, genius, Tony Stark. By night he was barista at The Split Bean coffee shop.

Warnings: references to alcoholism

Title: The Split Bean

Chapter One: Tony Finds a Job

While everyone on Earth knew of his secret identity as Iron Man. No one, not even Pepper, knew of his other secret identity as barista at The Split Bean.

It happened like most things in Tony’s life. A split-second decision followed by a large serving of fate and pure luck.

He’d been alone and slouched over the desk in his lab. One hand held a new prototype of one of the Starkpads he was working on and the other gripped a glass. Tony cracked one bloodshot eye open and stared at the amber liquid swirling around the glass.

Checking with Friday he realized it was past midnight and he had no memory of how long he’d been working or when he’d fallen asleep. That pattern of unawareness; of falling so quickly he wasn’t even aware the ground was gone was becoming tiresome.

Tony was exhausted.

His hands trembled and he watched in stillness as the glass tipped over. Liquid spilled across the table soaking all the papers and equipment in its path. The image burned into his mind as he thought of every way his drinking affected his life. The careful way Pepper folded her napkin over and over at dinner or the eye rolls his employees would when they thought he wasn’t looking when he stumbled in late for a meeting. Rhodey would straight up scold him and he ignored the truth in his friend’s words.

Backing away from the table, Tony stumbled to the window. His hands braced on the glass. The city below buzzed with life. People, subways, billboards. He was distanced from the movement alone in the tower. His heart didn’t beat with the rise and fall of the city’s anymore and the longer he watched it, the more he wanted to down. The more he yearned for some feeling besides the ache habituating in his chest.

In the end it was a piece of cowardice, a lie he told himself, that got him out the door.

You can have one more drink if you walk.

He told himself the phrase with repeated reassurance as he entered the elevator and exited the building. Phone, keys, and jacket all left inside the tower and Tony had never been so untethered. The air swept passed him and through his clothes as he walked.

Tony walked through the night until the sun peaked out from behind the sky. His legs ached but his mind was clear. As he entered his floor again he fell into bed not reaching for the liquor cabinet despite his mantra before.

The next night he walked and the one after that. He acclimatized himself to the people and stores, learning where the popular place was for the average person and what neighborhoods played the best music at night.

A month after this ritual began, Tony he arrived back at his floor. His mind hadn’t cleared with the air outside. The fog remained heavy in the dark crevices behind his eyes. Instead of feeling the muscles pinch in his legs or his eyes droop with the good kind of fatigue, Tony sat on the couch and stared at the amber liquid.

Temptation was too strong.

Tony woke up on the couch, drool on the pillow underneath him and empty bottle mocking him from the table. His head pounded under the pellets of the shower.

He shouted at Pepper that day even though she’d placed a blanket on him in the morning. Even though she was still there for him. Once night came he paced across the wood flooring, eyes roaming with dangerous intent over everything besides what was really calling to him.

You can have one more drink if you walk. Just get out the door.

It wasn’t a lie anymore so much as a plea. If he could make it out the door he would find something to occupy his mind. Something other than those bottles and their contents.

He couldn’t do it.

Tears leaked from his eyes the next morning and the one after that when he found himself in the same spot come morning. Bottles scattered across the table and his aching body, shivering and alone. The blanket was wrapped around him again. Almost shielding him from himself, but it would have to come off sometime.

A week later, Tony tore himself away. He stumbled out not hearing Friday’s voice or reading the texts from his phone.

Somehow, he got onto the subway. Out of breath and in sweatpants Tony melted into a seat on the train. He exhaled a sigh and almost smiled to himself. On and on he sat and watched the other occupants. Stops blurred by and still he sat there.

Another burst of fate nudged him forward and at random he exited the train. He passed by crumbling brick and signs hanging from their attachments. There was apartment buildings and stores, all dark at the late hour.

Then he saw the neon sign which shone like a lighthouse beacon in a storm.

Help Wanted.

Warm air blasted on his face when he entered the doorway and with quick steps Tony journeyed farther into the shop. He had no need for more money but there was this pull dragging him forward and into the shop. Coffee beans and mild desperation wafted through the air. People milled about bent over laptops of head deep in a book sitting in various sized and shaped chairs all over the small café.

A man named Doug greeted him from behind the counter and seeing the worn-down set of Tony’s shoulders, set him up in the corner seat of the café. Doug sat with him when he wasn’t tending to customers. His grey beard catching on the end of the table every time he leaned forward to whisper some gossip about another person to Tony.

“What brings you in to The Split Bean?” He asked after refilling Tony’s mug.

He shrugged and brought the warm mug between his hands, fiddling with the handle. There was no honest answer he could give to the man. He was here and that small fact was a miracle in itself. Doug seemed to understand everything left unsaid and his eyes knowingly roamed along Tony’s stooped frame.

“Ah, I see.” The man said and with a clap on the shoulders left Tony to his coffee.

Tony stayed all night, warm and snug in the corner. He watched the occasional passerby outside, how they hurried away from the cool breeze, and the other patrons of the café working on their various exploits.

Before he knew it, it was the end of the night. Tony was the only customer left, as it was before the morning rush. He set the cup in the bin designated dirty dishes and grabbed another rag. He and Doug wiped down the tables, sweeping underneath to get all the crumbs.

“You looking for a job?” He said, leaning against one of the tables.

Tony chuckled and shook his head. The thought was ridiculous. He was Tony Stark. There was enough money hidden in the pantry wall for him to be comfortable for the rest of his life. He was a superhero. Iron Man could not serve people their flat whites or caramel macchiatos. Iron Man saved the world, multiple times. He was also a genius. It was beneath him to stoop to this level. Not even at MIT did he even buy coffee from café.

Maybe those were the reasons he should. Tony Stark. Iron Man. They were both floating, disconnected from the day to day happenings of the Earth. He wasn’t those people, not really. They were icons and had grown beyond his own struggling person.

Tony looked around the space. It wasn’t special by any standards. Small and mismatched were two words he thought would describe it. But then he thought of the view from his floor in the Tower. Nothing mattered there. He didn’t care for any of the curated art pieces or the expensive furniture. He was a stranger in his own home.

The detachment he was running from rose up like an unleashed dam in his stomach. It swarmed up in his throat and Tony’s breath caught. His laughter stopped abruptly. This could be the pull he was feeling. It had to be guiding him to this place for some reason.

In all of a second Tony decided to change his fate.

Doug was done wiping down and moved to grab a bag of coffee beans from a tall shelf. His wrinkled hands reached above his head, wavering before the man flinched back.

“Gosh darn.” He muttered. Doug rested into the counter, rubbing his back.

Tony marched to him and pointed at one of the bags. With a nod from Doug he grabbed it down and poured it into the machine.

“I was serious, you know.” Doug said. “I’m not as young as I used to be and you seem… well, you seem like you could use something to do. Pays not great but I need some help. What do you say?”

It was the polite way of saying Tony looked like a fucking mess, but he couldn’t fault the man for saying it in a polite way. Most wouldn’t.

“You know what? Sure, I would appreciate the opportunity.” He said, trying not to think about his latest relapse or the disappointed face Pepper gave him this morning.

That was how Tony found himself taking the subway to Queens every night to work as a barista at the Split Bean Café.

It was also the same sprig of fate that led a young Peter Parker into the café one night six months later and into Tony’s life.

Note: The name ‘The Split Bean’ is a tiny easter egg to my very first fan fiction ‘Someone to Care’

Thank you!

Taglist: @whatisthou @warmwithafewfrostymoments

Chapter Two: Tony Finds the Kid

#Tony Stark #references to alcoholism #Tony stark has a heart #Tony stark needs a hug #peter parker #iron man #Coffee shop AU #coffee AU #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #my writing #the split bean #chapter one #irondad bingo #irondad #spiderson #irondad bingo AU

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mraaronwhite · 3 years

Text

THE GOLDFISH

We sat in the conservatory of my weathered, beach side cottage, overlooking some tomato plants and a splintered oak bench that I collectively called my back garden. Now, being a cottage, you would be forgiven for thinking that this was a small affair, the kind of cottage that malicious, child-eating witches would inhabit deep in the woods. Not this cottage though. There was actually too much room believe it or not. Well, too much room for a man and his cat at least.

You see, I grew up in a cramped, narrow excuse for a flat in Edinburgh. Usually being able to touch two opposing walls at once. So, when I inherited this place, a fortnight ago, from my recently deceased Aunt, it was a breath of fresh air to say the least. It felt like the perfect excuse to have a party. Not to celebrate my Aunt just dying (she was a grumpy old boot, mind you) but rather the fact that after twenty-three years of always wanting a place of my own, I finally had it.

I messaged the group chat, letting them know of the upcoming shindig to mark my housewarming, informing them that they would all be coming. None of them having a choice in the matter, I joked. There were ten of them in the group, eleven including myself, and we had been inseparable since the later years of high school. That fact surprises most people actually. Given that when folk head off to university, college or go backpacking through Asia, they normally lose contact. After all, it’s a perfect chance to reinvent yourself, and doing that sometimes means saying goodbye to some folk.

Not us though. We had to be different. Having nearly been out of high school for as long as we were in it, our collective friendship was as strong as it ever. We hadn’t all been together in nearly a year as well, so when I sent out the invites, they all jumped at the chance.

The night itself exceeded my wildest expectations. We laughed, we sang, we laughed again. It was a night of pure merriment and happiness and it will live forever in my head as one of the high points of my life. As I sighed a breath of relief when I moved into my sand surrounded home, I did the same when I saw all my friends together again that night. My face literally started to hurt with the amount of smiling I was doing, which only made me smile all the more.

All good things must come to an end though I thought, and as the clock flashed one in the morning, the designated drivers began ferrying home their passengers. Before they left however, we had but one tradition to enact. An exclusively Scottish ritual that you have to do at the end of a good party. Listening to Runrig’s Loch Lomond at full volume and jumping up and down like a bunch of toddlers on a sugar high. Once the song was over however, the party was too unfortunately. One by one, they said their farewells and staggered down my grassy strewn path. They waved and honked their horns until eventually they fell out of sight, becoming part of the jumbled mess of streetlights and other late-night travellers.

I ventured back inside my new home and couldn’t help but feel lonely. Lonelier than I had in a while. At least I had Bean though, I thought to myself. She was my ashen-haired feline companion, and we’d been through thick and thin together. I don’t know what I’d do without her to be honest. She’s a nervous wee thing though and doesn’t do well around crowds, so had been chilling in the spare room for the night. That was until I opened the door of course, and then she was out of there at damn near mach four.

As she sniffed and scratched her way around the room, I flung myself into the heap of cushions and blankets people had sat on in the conservatory, their lazy attempt of tidying up before their departure I concluded. I sighed, letting out a small chuckle. Planning on just kipping there for the night, I shut my eyes and soon felt myself drifting off into the endless depths of my unconscious.

A distant toilet flushing filled the house and swiftly brought me back to reality. Then click clack, click clack, click clack. Footsteps. They were closing in and at this point I was on my feet, starting to panic. I had never been in a fight before, but I was about to be if my theory of a murderer checked out. In my drunken state, I never thought to question why someone would go to the toilet before killing me. I looked about the conservatory, trying to see something I could use to defend myself and grabbed the first thing that came to me. A tube of Paprika flavoured Pringles. In hindsight, I could have probably picked something a little more useful, but hey ho, that’s what a night of binge drinking and anxiety gets you. Then as the “Murderer” got closer, she appeared in the doorway. Clio DeLuca. My best friend.

“Where did everyone go??” she said, cool as a cucumber, leaning on the frame of the door.

“They left like half an hour ago” I replied, my face a picture of confusion “What the hell are you still doing here though?? We all thought you left ages ago” I asked, half laughing, while letting out a sigh of relief.

“Funny story. I went to the toilet and kinda just fell asleep half way through.” She told me, sitting down the arm of the raggedy couch. Then flopping onto my makeshift bed, that I had been nice and comfy on only moments before.

“What are you like??” I said, now properly belly laughing. “You might as well get comfy, the buses stopped at eleven.” I paused “Sooo, do you want another drink?”

“Yeah but my heads splitting, nothing hard.” I was about to offer her some of the special stuff but she got in before me “Oooh in fact, have you got any hot chocolate??” She asked, looking up at me with those wild green eyes, that I first met oh so long ago.

“Now we’re talking” I exclaimed with glee “I’ve got just the thing!” I then marched off into the kitchen, meeting Bean as she was having a nibble at some of her biscuits. I flicked the kettle on and shouted through “What one you fancying then?”

“I dunno - hic” she mumbled. The sounds of her then rolling off the couch and wandering through soon followed. “What kind - hic - you got?” she asked, parking herself at my breakfast bar.

“Weeeell” I started, opening my cupboard I that housed my secret obsession “I’ve got your normal supermarket kinds - Cadburys, Galaxy, Bournville?”

“Yeah, one of them is fine” she chimed in.

“Nah, that’s the boring stuff. I’ve also got white chocolate, orange, peppermint, vanilla bean, salte” Bean scuttled into the room, hearing this, thinking I was talking to her, to which prompted Clio to scoop her up.

“Well hiii, where have you been hiding all night??” Bean purred, gladly accepting the cuddles and attention. Clio looked back up at me, staring through her shadowy locks that fell onto her face like a waterfall in the night. “Please continue” she smiled, nodding at the cupboard, all the while still scratching Bean’s belly.

“Ah yes, where we, so we’ve got salted caramel flavour, cinnamon, apple pie and the Pièce de résistance of my collection, genuine Peruvian hot chocolate.” I turned back to her “Think I’m gonna go for the Peruvian blend, you?” I asked. She was back looking at Bean again, given her some more lovin’. She’s always had the attention span of a goldfish, and I always found it quite funny. “I’ll just make the you the same” I laughed.

“Sorry, aye, sounds lovely.” I spooned the mixture into two bulky mugs, hearing purring and some meows coming from behind me. “Sooo” she started, “When did you become the Ramona Flowers of hot chocolate?” she jested.

“What you talking about, I’ve always been into hot chocolate?” she started to speak before I cut her off “Cream and marshmallows by the way??”

“Ooh yes please” Her eyes lit up “But yeah, I know you’ve always liked it but this is like obsessed. Like I’m scared if I don’t like this” she paused, while pointing her head at our mugs “that you might actually kill me.” She looked so sincere as she told me this.

“Shut up” I pleaded, in the moaniest voice I could muster “You know, I don’t have to let you sleep here tonight, I’m doing it out of the pure goodness of my heart.”

“Nah I’m being serious, and once the papers find out, you’ll probably get a cool nickname as well. The hot chocolate killer, perhaps? Whadda ya think, Bean?” She gave a solemn meow.

“Fuc..” she cut me off, looking aghast, while covering Beans ears.

“There’s children present” she shot back, with a hint of faux anger and a wry grin. I then simply mouthed my retort, all the while giving her the finger. Then, just as quickly, she flipped it right back at me. We then both had a good giggle as I stirred our drinks, plopped in the marshmallows and squirted the cream on top.

“Shall we?” I asked, while gesturing to the conservatory with my head as my hands were full. She cradled Bean like a new-born, stood up and we both made our way through.

I gently placed our steaming mugs down on the glass topped coffee table, moving some meekly filled beer bottles out of the way to give us some room. We both fell back into the warm embrace of the couch, prompting Bean to hop out off Clio’s lap and curl up between the two of us.

My Bluetooth speaker, which sat in the corner atop some books, echoed out the tunes of my Spotify playlist which I had shuffled at the beginning of the party. Turning it to a whisper when folk left, I turned it back up again to fill the room with some life.

Looking about, the room, and the rest of the house was an absolute state. Crisps everywhere, too many cider cans to count and an embarrassing amount of smarties lay scattered about the floor, from when I was trying to toss them up and catch in my mouth earlier in the party. A dozen or so polaroids were sprinkled about the place as well, and when one caught my eye lurking under the armchair in the corner I got up and quickly collected the rest. “Get any good snaps?” Clio asked, while taking a generous sip of her hot chocolate, leaving a lovely big creamy moustache under her petit, turned up nose. I smiled, deciding not to tell her. “Daaamn, this is gooood!” she exclaimed, in a warm, satisfied tone, telling me she loved the drink just as much as I did.

“Told ya!” trying to not look smug “Let’s see here” I pondered, thumbing through the small pile of photos. “Hmmha” I grinned, looking at Clio, who was puffing her cheeks and making her eyes go crossed “That’s a good ‘un” handing it to her. She flung herself back onto the seat, seeing the picture.”

“Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with us?” she chortled, leaning forward again to take another sip of the sweet goodness. Her face then quickly soured “Can you skip this one, it reminds me of when I worked in Asda. They played the same six songs on repeat. It was actually hell.”

“Us!?” I asked her, while I pulled out my phone, skipping to the next song “Speak for yourself! I take only good photos.”

“Is that right?” she laughed back, cocking her head, proceeding then to snatch the bundle of photos from my hands. “We’ll see about that” in a determined tone, while furrowing her brow. I took the opportunity to indulge in the heated sweetness of my mug and no less than ten seconds later “Here, look at this, what the hell are you doing with your lips?” shoving the polaroid at my face.

“Its called blue steel, look it up” I confidently hit back.

“I dunno what that is but you LOOK like a goldfish”

“I think you’ll find I look damn sexy” making sure to sound as cocky and arrogant as I could.

“And by sexy” doing air quotes with her fingers “I take it you mean the lesser known definition of the word, meaning to look like you live at the aquarium at Dobbies?” she ranted, putting one her best condescending voice as she could.

“You know, sometimes, your words, they hurt.” Looking back at her, attempting to appear actually upset and offended. She could always see right through my piss poor acting skills though, and we both just started giggling again.

This is the norm for when me and Clio hang out. I make fun of her, she makes fun of me, we laugh about it and on and on it goes. It’s been our routine since primary four, when we first met, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The rest of that night was no exception, we bantered about for a bit then did some actual serious talking as well. Our sexuality, putting the world to rights, family shit. The usual kind of deep topics you chat about after a night of drinking and partying, and before we knew it, I looked at my phone and it flashed 4:33AM.

Bean had migrated over to the open window by this point, she was doing some serious loafing. Presumably to cool down I thought. The dregs of our hot chocolate sat in the now cold mugs and the two of us were cosy under a massive blanket. Her head gently rested on my shoulder.

I peered out through the double doors that lead to my garden, amalgamating into the sands and shells of the dark beach. The North Sea lay before me, stretching as far as the eye could see, eventually bleeding into the never ending abyss of space. An army of stars littering its canvas, shining down on us mere mortals below.

I stared at the colossal entity that was the cosmos, trying to make shapes out of its burning suns. I was at a loss at how the early astronomers of prehistory were able to see anything apart from a jumble of distant polka dots. “Hey” I whispered, gently nudging my shoulder.

“Hmm” She softly moaned to let me know she was listening.

“Do you see anything up there? You know, in the stars.” I continued, still whispering. She craned her neck back and opened her wild grassy eyes to look up at the sky above.

“I dunno” she looked from corner to corner, eventually pointing toward the right of where we were sitting “There’s Orion’s belt.”

“Nah like I mean something new, not an already existing constellation.” I prodded.

“I really can’t say. What can you see?” she asked, shutting her eyes getting comfy under the blanket again. I gazed about the dark blue sky with great curiosity. Then, directly in front of me, high above the wispy clouds I faintly made out the shape of goldfish. Probably because it was on my mind from earlier, but nevertheless, I could see it clear as day. I jostled Clio’s head once again.

“Look, there, right in front of us. Can you see a goldfish?” Groggily sitting up, she focused to where I was pointing and tilted her head.

“Yeah, I can actu…” She trailed off, as did my music. Both of us were looking at the fish in the sky, but now, the stars in our newly discovered constellation were twitching and swirling. They also began glowing much brighter than the other stars in the sky. Both of us were transfixed. The whole thing eventually started pulsing. Going dim and then shining bright. It was slow at first but then gradually got faster and faster. Then, and I’ll remember this moment until my dying day, it appeared in front of us.

There, in the obsidian blackness of the sky, it shone down on us. A gargantuan, glowing goldfish. It swam about as if we were looking through the cold, wet glass of an aquarium. Darting about the night sky as easily as it would have underwater. Its visage, although similar to a normal goldfish, was still very different. Apart from the obvious size distinction, the one before us existed purely as an outline defined by the stars. Its body was see-through, the same inky darkness as the rest of space. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and neither could Clio given her jaw was almost touching the floor. We were both outside by this point, wanting to get as clear a look as possible.

“Te.. tell me you’re” I mumbled “you’re seeing this as well” I eventually mustered, breaking the silence. Clio simply nodded, staring unblinkingly at the godlike being as it swished and swooshed through the cosmos.

“Okay” she finally said “Either we’ve fallen into some weird sci-fi novel or you spiked my hot chocolate” trying to make sense of the impossibility of what was happening.

“Why isn’t it cold though? I asked, looking up and down the beach, and after a few moments had passed, she eventually processed my question prompting her whip her head at me.

“There’s a massive floating fish made out of stars in the sky and you’re worried about the weather? She half yelled, with great incredulity.

“Clio, its 5 in the morning. In February. In Scotland. It should be freezing.” She thought about what I was saying and looked about as well. “Its warm though, and there’s no wind.” I paused “And no noise for that matter.” I paused again “I don’t understand”.

“It’s weird” she started “I feel like I should be scared or freaked out or… something” she looked at me “But.. it feels right. It feels like we were meant to be here. To see” she paused, looking back at the fish who was still merrily swimming about the sky “whatever this is.” I felt the same way, in my gut. I knew that whatever was happening wasn’t meant to hurt or frighten us. So, I began walking forward, taking Clio’s hand as I did so. We walked far onto the beach. It was still warm, still completely quiet.

We eventually reached the waters edge, as close as we could get to the being in front of us, when we notice that the sea itself had stopped. It plateaued to a complete halt. No waves. No tide. Nothing. It looked like a gigantic mirror, that stretched out past the horizon. Reflecting everything that was happening above. I bent down and dipped my fingers in, expecting it to be solid but it was just as wet as the normal sea. Just completely still. As if someone had hit the pause button.

I sat down, cross legged on the shore, as did Clio, and we watched the fish for hours. It swam to the left, to the right. It swam far away, getting smaller, then past the horizon only to jump up again as if it was a dolphin doing tricks.

The sky was gradually getting lighter, now a dusky blue, and we both knew that the fish’s departure was upcoming. Potentially any minute now. It suddenly came to a gentle stop, high in the twilight sky. It was looking right at us, into the deep-seated depths of our souls.

Now, I’m not an emotional man, it takes a lot to upset me. Even the most heart wrenching of films doesn’t evoke a reaction. But at the very moment, I couldn’t help but shed a few tears. Not out of sadness, or even happiness. It was just raw emotion. I could tell by Clio’s sniffling that she was having a similar reaction.

Then, as mysteriously as it arrived, it vanished. Its image fading back into the now pale blue of space. The stars that made up its outline, in their original position. It’s retreat from our world meant that it was back to normal, and in perfect synchronisation, the temperature dropped to just above zero, the wind blew at our backs and the once static waves drenched us in salty seawater.

Needless to say we both screamed out in discomfort, then looking at each other deep in the eyes, we embraced. I hugged her tighter than I had ever before, never in my life had I felt as close to someone as I did in that moment and I could tell she felt the same way. We swiftly then ran back to my cottage to warm up. After a nice warm and soapy shower, a fresh change of clothes (her having to borrow some shorts and a hoodie) she joined me on the couch, where we first saw the big fish, only a few hours ago.

We sat in the conservatory, in silence for the most part. My tomato plants blew in the wind, gently tapping against the glass of the doors. Bean now sitting, curled up between us. Purring softly as I patted her silvery fur. Clio eventually spoke.

“Y’know, no one is gonna believe us” she said, in a solemn tone.

“No” I sighed, while shaking my head.

“Then why should we tell them” she exclaimed. “They’d think we were insane”. I acknowledged her sense; everyone, anyone we told, would think we were mad.

“I just don’t get why” I interjected, to which she looked puzzled “Why did that happen to us, what does it mean?”

“Does it have to mean anything?” I couldn’t help but furrow my brow, not being content with her answer “Look” she began again “When you see a sunset, a deer in the wild or you’re caught in the middle of a thunderstorm, do you ask why?” She paused, looking at me “No, you just enjoy them for what they are. Beautiful acts of nature.”

“But what we saw, Clio. It was Impossible. It shouldn’t have happened. It defies all the laws of physics that we know.”

“So?” she said, shrugging, casually as ever.

“So, don’t you want to know how all of that was possible?”

“Of course, I do, but even if I did, it wouldn’t make what just happen any more meaningful. In fact I think it would detract from the whole thing.” She could tell I was confused, which only made her smile, sit right next to me and take my hand in hers “When you see a magic trick, when you see a magician pick the card you were think of from thin air, what’s the best bit about it?” She said, looking right at me, with her wild green eyes. I thought about it for a few seconds.

“The trick” she smiled even wider “The mystery of it all and the trying to work it out.”

“And if you knew how it was done?” she continued

“It would ruin it.”

“Exactly.” I finally got what she meant and appreciated our night-time visitor all the more. I put my arm around her, pulling her into another hug. Gently kissing her on the side of her head.

Things aren’t beautiful because we understand them or know when they’re going to happen. It’s the fleeting mystery and spontaneous nature of it all that truly makes it exciting. The late-night conversations, when you can’t stop dancing with your pals, warm hot chocolate, a cat’s affection, silly photos with funny faces and stargazing with your best friend. Its moments like these that make you really appreciate the wonderfully weird gift of life.

#Goldfish #sci-fi #scottish #short fiction #short story #weird #fun

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yuzusorbet · 5 years

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Fantasy On Ice, Sendai, May 31 (Fri) to June 2 (Sun) 2019 ~my account~

[wrote it for myself, to remember all the little details]

When I heard that Sendai was one of the places for Fantasy On Ice 2019, I immediately knew I had to get tickets. I made my first trip to Sendai in April 2018 for Yuzuru Hanyu’s Olympic victory parade and I fell in love with Yuzu’s hometown. FaOI Sendai would be the perfect occasion to visit again! I quickly asked some friends for help and, miraculously, they managed to get tickets for all 3 shows from the official ticket draws. I’m eternally grateful! At that time, Yuzu’s participation was not yet announced but we knew he would be there. Even if he couldn’t do jumps yet, he would definitely make an appearance in his hometown. Weeks later, it was announced that he would be in the shows in all 4 locations. Fans were delirious with joy! Besides the thought of seeing him, it also meant he was recovering well!

This would be my 4th Yuzu-ice show. 2015 I went to FaOI Kobe; 2017 Niigata; 2018 Shizuoka. So glad Sendai is an FaOI location this year; it’s the first time!

I flew into Tokyo Haneda Airport and took the shinkansen to Sendai. My hotel is very near the main station. The show venue is Sekisui Heim Super Arena, in a small town called Rifu, north of Sendai, in Miyagi Prefecture. It is not easily accessible, so there were special shuttle buses to take us there from Sendai Station. We had to buy the bus tickets from a vending machine in 7-11 in advance. Cost for a 2-way ticket was 2500 yen, half-price for one-way.

Day 1, Friday (show time: 5pm)

At about 3pm, I followed signs that pointed to ‘FaOI shuttle bus’, which basically meant following the crowd. (The long queue was to the right of this photo.)

Boarding the bus in an orderly manner. Each bus moved off once it was full.

On the bus, I looked around me and wanted to laugh.... everyone’s phone screen or wallpaper was Yuzu’s face! hahaha...... it was surreal. xD

It was a long bus ride, about 45 minutes. We finally reached and I saw many stalls selling food outside the arena. But the sky was grey and rainy, and suddenly the drizzle became very heavy rain. I quickly lined up to go into the arena. Thank goodness I had my waterproof parka. Much better than an umbrella!

When I got to my seat, I had a nice surprise. The people sitting next to me were Taiwanese fans that I had met during Yuzu’s parade last year! So happy to see them again!

Besides the great company, my seat position was really good too. Right in the centre of one long side (East) and not far from the rink for an ‘A’ seat! (First row is Premium, then Arena, SS, S, A, B.)

While waiting for the show to start, we chatted and exchanged gifts. One of them gave me a little drawstring bag with a single feather embroidered on it. A simple design that is so beautiful, especially for us Yuzu-fans. I was so touched. I only had snacks from my country to offer. :P

Then the show started. When Yuzu came out for the opening, we all screamed!!!! He danced with so much energy and happiness pouring out of him and his jump was awesome! It was a 4T with a high kick, and then, as he danced in front of the whole group of skaters, he did a “I can’t hear you, c'mon” kind of gesture to the audience. (You can see it HERE.) OMG he was so cool!!! I don’t know how the people sitting on the short side, right in front of him, survived.

2nd part of the opening: Yuzu skated in with Jeff, Javi and Luca, and they were joined by 4 ladies. His pair dance with ice dancer Anna Cappellini was so cute! And he was so smooth and confident!

Individual performances: so many wonderful performances…. I will mention some of them at the end.

When singer ToshI came onto the stage, he said, “Sendai is figure skating and we have 2 Olympic gold medalists here… Arakawa Shizuka (loud cheers) and Hanyu Yuzuru!!!!!!” (loud screams) Then he did the Yuzu-call......

ToshI: YUZU!! (points mike to audience) Audience: YUZU!!! ToshI: YUZU!! Audience: YUZU!!! ToshI: YUZU!! Audience: YUZU!!! ToshI: But he’s not coming out yet. (hahaha…..) (Next was Stephane Lambiel.)

Yuzu’s performance was last, as usual. 'Masquerade’ was so passionate and intense that my heart was thumping like crazy and I had to scream at many parts (and I heard others’ screaming as well). The music plus ToshI’s singing was very loud and drowned out our screams, thank goodness. When Yuzu threw down his glove at the end, we all jumped to our feet and screamed and clapped. MASQUERADE WAS ELECTRIFYING!!! Video here.

Finale: Yuzu came out in the finale costume (black and white with frilly sleeves). So handsome! After the group number, he disappeared backstage while the others did their jump or spin battles. He appeared again wearing the FaOI tee, wiping his face with a towel and sipping from a water bottle. Then he went to stand next to Plushenko. He tried the quad lutz, popped first time, then 2nd time he stepped out a bit. When all the skaters started to go back in, one by one in a line, he did the 'high ten’ with each of them, some hugged him, he twirled Anna, and then Luca twirled him! haha…. that was so cute! Then as always, he stepped out of the rink, and from the side of the stage, he shouted “arigato gozaimashita!!!” He bowed, walked backwards while waving, and before he disappeared through the curtains, he blew us a kiss!! I think I died……

The show ended at about 8.30pm. Rainy, dark, and took forever to get onto one of the shuttle buses that took us back to Sendai Station. But head is totally filled with Yuzu and Masquerade, and heart is totally happy. :)

Day 2, Saturday (show time: 2pm)

On Day 2, I did not take the shuttle bus. My friend Ella came to watch the Saturday and Sunday shows. Her Japanese friend rented a car and drove us there. (5 of us in the car made the shared cost much cheaper than the shuttle bus ticket.)

It was a sunny day and I was very excited about the food (which I did not try on Day One due to rain). From afar, I saw the tentage.....

When I got there, the whole place was like a carnival! As I wandered around, someone suddenly tapped my arm. It was my fan-friend K-chan! How amazing that she spotted me among the crowds! The last time we met was one year ago at FaOI Shizuoka! So happy to see her, even if it’s only for a minute. xD

The stalls were awesome. I have never seen food at previous ice shows! The food sold here were specialties of Sendai and the regions nearby, and there were long queues at every stall. There was nama biru (draft beer), miso ramen, yakisoba, gyu-tan (grilled beef tongue), croquette with bits of gyu-tan inside, skewers of Yonezawa beef (famous beef from Yamagata), and zunda soft serve ice-cream (zunda = sweet edamame bean paste).

Above: my Zunda ice-cream.... so yummy.

Above: Gyutan. Below: Croquette and Yonezawa beef.

I wish I could eat everything! But I only had time to try these 4 things over Sat and Sunday. They tasted SO GOOD. (Thanks to Ella for her recommendations!) There were many benches near the stalls and people were sitting there enjoying the food under the blazing sun.

It felt like a festival to celebrate Yuzu being there. :)) Besides the official merchandise, there were also booths selling Sendai snacks in beautiful FaOI packaging and music boxes of Ballade No.1 and SEIMEI. There was even a photo booth with staff helping fans to take photos! xD

And when you got into the ice arena, every seat had a plastic bag with some promotional material and a pack of FaOI Sendai wet wipes! haha….. so you could wipe your sticky hands and mouth if you brought food in to eat!

Sendai, you really are the best! :D (So, I have 3 of these wet wipes from the 3 days but I can’t even bear to open one of them to use!)

For Day 2, I was on the other long side (West) and a bit off-centre nearer the short side. So I had a totally different angle of the show and my row was nearer the rink than yesterday -- fantastic! The person next to me was also Ella’s friend and she offered me some lovely sweets. Yuzu-fans are really sweet! :)

Opening: Yuzu fell on his opening 4T, so when he came out again with the other 3 guys (Jeff, Luca and Javi), he did a beautiful 4T before doing the usual steps with the others. Hahaha, I was laughing inside, that is so HIM!

In the middle of show: ToshI’s YUZU-call this time was even longer than Day 1! Felt like we were at a rock concert! He made each side of the rink call out “Yuzu!” 3 times, like a battle to see which side was louder. So it was one long side first, then the short side (in the video below, you can hear it’s a bit softer cos short side has less people), then the other long side. Toshl says in his blog that this is the “やりすぎ編😅 ”, meaning the “too much (or overdone) version”. Haha…. I like Toshl. (Didn’t know him before this.) We were all so high shouting “YUZU!!!” with all our lung power! xD Video of Day 2 Yuzu-call (ToshI’s blog)

Something comical: During the flying acrobatic skaters’ performance, I could see 4 or 5 men at one corner outside the rink pulling the rope to raise the skaters into the air. They were running to and fro holding the rope and they were so funny! End of performance, when the 2 skaters bowed, the men also bowed in their corner and waved as they marched off in a line! Haha........ (this could only be seen from seats on the West side.)

Intermission: In previous FaOI’s, during intermission, 2 of the skaters (but never Yuzu) came out in zambonis and shot little presents to the audience, like signed FaOI tees. So I waited a while but there was nothing happening... (same for all 3 days). So I went for a walk to stretch my legs. Went to put my fan letter into the gift box for Yuzu. It’s just a simple postcard from my country. :)

Last performance: Yuzu’s ‘Crystal Memories’ –- so beautiful I think I forgot to breathe. The Y-spiral was near my side of the rink. His right leg raised up high was slowly lowered in a beautiful line with his body and it was just so heavenly to watch from where I was. So many other exquisite moments...... words won’t do justice. Watching live, costumes always sparkle and glitter 100 times more than what we see on screen. Yuzu was so sparkly he looked like an angel of light, sent from heaven to bring beauty and love to our world. Video of 'Crystal Memories’

Finale: As the skaters skated around the rink waving, Yuzu skated slowly, looking up at the audience. I think he was trying to see as many fan-banners as he could. Like yesterday, he went backstage to change out of the finale costume and wore the FaOI tee to do the quad challenge. The 4Lutz today was a step-out/hand-down. The staff were putting some chairs onto the ice near the stage. When Yuzu realised it’s group photo time, he dashed backstage and came out very quickly in the black-and-white finale costume again, and he was grinning away. Haha, it was a really quick change! I wonder who the lucky person was, helping him backstage. xD

At the very end: He shouted 'arigato-gozaimashita!’ and we shouted back 'arigato-gozaimashita!’ Then, just before he disappeared into the curtains, he did the phantom 'take-off-the-mask’ gesture. And we SCREEEEEEEEAMED!!! xD

I floated on cloud nine to the car park..... Soon we were on our way back to Sendai Station area. In the car journeys to and fro, the music was excellent, thanks to a friend who has a Yuzu-playlist in her phone which she connected to the car stereo. All the music that he has skated to, from novice til now.... SP, FP, exhibitions..... ahhhh what great music..... it was really the GREATEST selection!

As we reached Sendai Station area, a funny thing happened. Our friend drove onto the wrong road and we found ourselves on a highway going off to a different area! She frantically looked for an exit but there were none. We just had to keep going on this highway, further and further away from Sendai Station! Then I saw a sign saying we’re heading for「泉中央」...... hey, isn’t that the area of Ice Rink Sendai? We’re heading for Yuzu’s home? Our friend kept apologising for going the wrong way but we told her IT’S OKAY!!!! We’re going to Yuzu’s home!!! Hahaha..... the wrong road suddenly felt so right! xD

The sun was setting..... We became quiet.... gazing at the golden colours of Yuzu’s hometown while his music serenaded our senses.

(Glad these photos I took with my iphone in a moving car turned out well.) After driving for some time, our friend found the way back towards Sendai Station. We were late in joining a group of fans for dinner but what a nice little detour we had! Very grateful to our Japanese friend who did all the hard work while we just soaked in the sights and sounds!

Day 3, Sunday (show time: 1pm)

For Day 3, I bought a one-way shuttle bus ticket as I would return by rental car. Like Day 2, I lined up for food before the show. The lines were very long and there were staff holding signs that said “end of line (food name)” for each stall so that people would know exactly where to queue. Moving slowly in line, I used the time to admire the Yuzu-world around me. Almost everyone was wearing or carrying things that showed their love, like Ciontu tees, Pooh keychains and Irene bags. I myself was wearing the Phiten mirror ball necklace. Some things were so beautiful and unique and I took photos. (edit: separate post made on this; link is below.)

After eating, I walked around and spotted Yuzu’s signature near the arena office! It was from year 2010! At that time, the wing in his signature was very distinct. So cute. :)

Close to 1pm, I went into the arena to look for my seat. I had an ’S’ ticket and I was excited about being much nearer the rink than the previous 2 days with 'A’ tickets. But when I got to my seat, I saw that I was only just in front of my row yesterday! Realised that my 'A’ seat yesterday was the FIRST row of all the 'A’ seats and my S seat today was the LAST row of all the S seats. Hahaha…….. I was a bit disappointed but then I was really lucky for the A seats! (Seat order: Premium, Arena, SS, S, A, B)

The good thing is, I was on the West side again and nearer the stage this time. I would be able to see Yuzu going in and out very clearly! And I had my concert binoculars! I bought it just the night before, from a budget shop near my hotel. Sometimes the shows provide rental of binoculars but this one didn’t. I usually use it for the finale, when the skaters are just having fun, so I can see Yuzu’s cute expressions. :)

I was also extra happy as I would be sitting next to Ella who came into the arena soon after me. 2 Japanese fans behind us heard us talking and knew we were not Japanese. They showed us a huge folder with many Yuzu clear files and pamphlets, and asked us if we already have them. We said no and they took out some to give to us! Omg..... what super nice fans!! They said they would be going for Kobe FaOI and Toyama FaOI as well! They were at Worlds in Saitama too! (Wow, I wish I could say the same!) How lucky we were to sit in front of them!

Opening: Wonderful like the other days and Yuzu did a beautiful 4T. After the group performance, as he walked towards the backstage curtains, he took off his outer mesh top and swung it around, just before he disappeared thru the curtains. Haha.... how cute can he be…… xD

Middle of show: ToshI said he talked too much yesterday so today he would say less. The audience protested a bit with an “Ehhhhhh??” But there was no Yuzu-call today. :(

During Masquerade, Yuzu fell on both his jumps. For us fans, it did not matter at all, but we knew he would feel terrible about it. I wondered if the temperature was affecting him as the venue was very warm. Day 1 was OK but it was warmer on Day 2, and on Day 3 I was actually sweating a bit in the middle of the show. And I wasn’t the only one feeling it cos I saw people fanning themselves. Literally a very hot FaOI.

Finale: After the group number, Yuzu disappeared backstage to change into the FaOI tee while the others did jump/spin battles. Came out with towel and water bottle. Wiped sweat, drank water. Then he did some stretching, and sat on steps at the side of the stage and massaged his legs for quite a long time. (So glad I was seated that side and I saw him so clearly.) I guessed he was getting ready for the quad lutz ….. because he fell on both his jumps during Masquerade, he really wanted to do a good jump for us. He tried 3 times - popped twice and fell on the last one. And decided it was enough. Thank God! I was getting worried because he had only just recovered. My heart was in pain watching him try so hard. Yuzu, we know you always want to give your best. But please take good care of yourself! (One week later, he did a beautiful 4Lz in Kobe Day 3! YES!!!!!!!!)

At the end, instead of the usual deep bow towards all the skaters and artists, he knelt down and bowed with his head on the ice.... orz. He looked so cute and funny doing that and we all laughed, but our hearts were aching cos we knew he was feeling truly apologetic and extremely ‘kuyashii’....

For the final skating around the rink to wave to the audience, he went to Plushenko and pushed him to the start of the line, then Plush and Yuzu 'circled around each other’ trying to make each other first in line, haha….. it was so sweet. Video (from Plushenko’s IG)

At the very end, at the side of the stage, he took the mike and said a few words. I cannot remember what he said except for this: - Actually this is not Sendai…. (it’s actually Rifu, just outside Sendai) - He wishes FaOI will come here again. (what else did he say…….. sigh, my head must have been too overwhelmed by this time.)

After shouting arigato-gozaimashita (without the mike), he walked backwards towards the curtained doorway, and just before he disappeared, he bowed deeply and said 'arigato-gozaimashita’ again (with the mike). My heart deeply and sincerely also says, “Yuzu, arigato-gozaimashita!” Thank you for everything you do!

At past FaOI’s, I always bought one tee and one towel. (I think they only had one design each.) This year, they had 2 designs each and it was so hard to choose and Yuzu wore both tees and I love both colours of the towel..... so I bought everything (goodbye my money). And the FaOI book of course; the cover and photos inside are so beautiful.

I felt this was the best FaOI I’ve ever attended. I will mention briefly some performances that I love a lot.

~Shizuka Arakawa: so beautiful and elegant; love her skating, esp her spiral and layback ina bauer. Love her costumes too. One was white and sparkly, the other had a Japanese style. Both performances were excellent. ~Nobunari Oda: Music from the movie 'Ghost' - his skating was so sad, I almost had tears. Then 'Mission Impossible' was so funny!!! Really love Nobu-kun! ~Stephane Lambiel: Love both numbers, especially the one with ToshI singing the sad and beautiful Japanese song 'I Love You'. ~’Akai Sweet Pea', sung by ToshI, skating by Johnny Weir. I love this song! Originally sung by Seiko Matsuda. ~'Monochrome' by Anna Cappellini and Luca Lanotte: So amazing!!! Everything looked like a black-and-white movie! The colour on their skin must have taken a lot of time and effort. Their performance was superb! ~Rika Kihira: So energetic and strong! Love the choreo. ~Satoko Miyahara: skated her new SP on Day 1 and her new FP on Day 2 and 3. I like both a lot! ~Javier Fernandez: the flamenco performance was so fun!

Plus all the other performances, I enjoyed them all! Thank you to all skaters and artists and staff!

On Sunday, once the show ended, Ella rushed out of the arena with her huge bag. There was a taxi waiting to take her to Sendai Airport to catch her flight home. I was a bit worried she would miss her flight but she made it, phew! And she saw some skaters at the airport! Jeff, Scott, Rika and Satoko! Wow, they are fast! :D

A big thank you to Ella and all the Yuzu-fans I met. I received so much love and so many gifts..... really grateful to all you wonderful people!

The little pouch with a feather was perfect for my new binoculars. Will be bringing them along for future events. :)

So many beautiful things and memories added to my treasure chest..... Dear Yuzu-kun and Yuzu-fans, til we meet again, take care and God bless!

(Next, I will write about the other places in Sendai that I visited on this trip.)

*All photos are taken by me. (some faces are blurred for people’s privacy.) *If my memory is not so accurate for some details of the show, my apologies. :)

Added later:

Part 2: Yuzu-world

Part 3: home rink and Olympic monuments

Part 4: Nanakita Park and schools

Part 5: An unexpected journey

Part 6: yuzu and zunda

Part 7: other Yuzu sightings

#fantasy on ice #FaOI Sendai #Yuzuru Hanyu #this is so late cos I was so busy #glad i finally finished it #faoi 2019

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irken-tenn · 5 years

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@urthsavior: x

As he’d grown older, Dib had gotten better at handling over stimulation. Better. Not perfect. He still wore a trench coat that helped, this one much longer- down to his ankles- with two lapels instead of one. That day it didn’t help much, his tugging on the sleeves && chewing on lip not doing anything. The noises were too loud, too grating. His glasses were designed specially to dim lights, but today it seemed as though the brightness got through somehow. Dib knew it was in his mind, how loud everything was, && how everything was shining. Yet that didn’t make it any less irritating.

Foot begins to tap rhythmically, hands shooting to his hair to smooth out the spike over && over. Hands shake. Nothing was helping, everything was too much ! Too much, too much, too much ! The teen screams then, covering his ears && shaking his head over && over.

Barely did he hear the Irken that had currently been residing with him. “ Nothing’s wrong with me ! Shut up ! ” Dib shouts at Tenn, but after a moment he tries to calm down enough to explain. They were, well… friends ? Maybe. She stayed with him since she had no place to call home && they both hated Zim. So she deserved an explanation. “ Ugh… There’s just a lot going on right now. ” Yet the house seemed quiet enough, but the teen could hear other things. Cars coming && going outside, his father down in the lab, Gaz’s gaming, natural rumbling of appliances, his own heartbeat. Not to mention feelings. Mouth dry. Eyes strained. Too much.

xxx

Tenn had been trying to nap on a particular area of the bed where sunlight beaned through the window, creating a nice warm spot. But she was only resting in idle mode which meant the irken was still sensitive to her surroundings. Any small thing could keep her from enjoying a moment of peace. In this instance, it was the Dib. The foot taping alone made her bristle. All the fidgeting and whining grated on her nerves to where she could no longer keep her eyes closed.

As her focus was drawn toward the human, Tenn wasn't exactly sure what she was witnessing. Her antenna cocked in an inquisitive manner. He was clearly experiencing extreme stress and agitation but the cause remained invisible. When she asked what was wrong out of genuine curiosity, the teen snap back with a surprising amount of aggression.. Interesting...

Her deep seated invader training went into motion and scrutinized Dib's every action. She assessed the situation, came up with hypotheses, and narrowed down possible solutions. How to calm the human... the irken landed on a theory she wanted to test.

Tenn went over to climb in Dib's lap. It wasn't a perfect fit but she was small enough to at least curl up and get comfortable. "Rub" she commanded while pointing to her head. Then she laid still with closed eyes, doing her best to relax in an awkward position. For the final touch, Tenn contracted muscles in her chest and throat so that her breathing simulated a cat's purr.

#urthsavior #//pet therapy with your unfriendly neighborhood alien #//honestly I just like turning her into a cat #//hopefully this won't backfire

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mortaljin · 5 years

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Meadows Bonus Scene 3: The Rock

Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: Cursing, drinking, implied fairy “miscarriage.” Genre: Fairy!au. Slightest angst, mainly fluff and drunken Jimin’s shinanigans. Pairing: Fairy!Hoseok x Female Reader

A/N: Thus, the Meadows Bonus Scene Trilogy as reached its end. This is the last little bit of my beloved Meadows series, and I thank you all for sticking with me this long. I think this is the last fic installment I will write for Meadows, but I know there will be questions to be asked when you finish reading. So! I will write a headcanon post (if prompted) to complement this part.

If you are new to the meadows series, welcome! Unlike the smut oneshot, you do need to read the series to be able to understand this. Otherwise, you will be lost regarding the dynamics of this universe.

Enjoy, and thank you xx

Masterlist | Meadows Series Masterlist

A rock.

A simple white rock rolled back and forth in the palm of your wet, shaking hand, and you shut your palm in fear of it falling.

It was perfectly round and smooth, not a single blemish in sight. No jelly-bean curve, nor cupid’s bow top. This rock was a perfect, white ball.

You lifted yourself from the ground next to the wastebasket and shuffled your weak body over to the washbasin. Clogging the drain—or hole, if you will—in the giant curved leaf, you turned on the spicket and held your hand under the slow stream of water to rinse off the unfortunate contents of your stomach.

When your hand, and the obnoxiously perfect rock, was spotless you pulled the plug on the water basin and dried yourself off. Numbly, you went back to your room and sat at the edge of the bed.

Once again, the little white rock was rolling around in your palm and you were just blinking, thinking.

Because why did I just vomit up a rock?

You were curious no doubt, and considered going to the library to see if there was anything you could find on this.

I wonder if Jungkook’s human ever dealt with this.

You considered that maybe it was just an effect of being so intimate with the world of fairies. Maybe it was the middle of June and you had been drinking so much water the minerals clumped together inside your stomach. Maybe your body was just calcifying all the magic goodness you’ve ingested from all those berries and nuts and has made you reject it in the form of a rock.

The idea made you chuckle, but it also made you crave the out of this word “trail-mix” you’ve started hoarding. It didn’t take you long to stand from the bed and make your way over to the dresser where the top drawer was specifically designed for snacks.

You placed the rock on the dresser, and opened the drawer to pull out some of the berries and nuts. While munching on them, you gazed at the rock and looked at it curiously.

The rock began to roll to the other side of the dresser top and stopped right at the base of a flower pot. Attributing the movement to the shifting weight from one foot to another, you gazed at it for a moment longer without question.

Slowly, your eyes moved upward; time began working at half speed as your eyes scanned up the green stem of the flower.

You examined the singular leaf before peering into the center of a bright red flower with thirty petals on it. A warm feeling bloomed on the left side of your chest as you thought of your handsome very king and the love that started from a singular. White.

Seed.

The sound of nuts bouncing against a wooden floor echoed throughout the room, but the sound fell on deaf ears as you came to a surreal realization.

“JUNG FUCKING HOSEOK COME HERE. RIGHT. NOW!”

~~~~~~

“So, what do we do now?”

You were staring at an “empty” flower pot full of wet dirt while Hoseok paced back and forth around the room.

“Well, we’re not going to tell anyone. That’s for sure.”

Whipping around, you stared at him with a dumbfounded look on your face, “why the fuck not? Hoseok, we might be having a child and you don’t want to say anything? To anyone?”

“Dandelion,” he sighed. Hoseok fluttered over to you, toes barely grazing the floor as he spread his wings ever so slightly. “I want to tell the entire world that we’ve possibly created the first human-fairy hybrid but…”

You frowned, looking away from him.

“I just don’t want to get the entire village excited in case we’re wrong. I don’t want you to get excited in case we’re wrong.”

He tried to pull you into a hug, but you stubbornly evaded it by plopping down onto the bed. With a groan, Hoseok followed suit and only then did you let him wrap his arms around you. Bright red wings wrapped around you, and almost instantly you felt a little better about the situation.

“It’s not fair that you can do that,” you whispered when he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. “What if I wanted to be angry sometimes?”

“You know I don’t use this against you, and you also know that it doesn’t work when you’re that pissed off. Remember that time when Taehyung—”

“Don’t.” You groaned at the memory and pressed a dramatic hand to your heart. “How the fuck does one fairy, of all creatures, kill an entire garden of potted plants?”

Hoseok chuckled with you, and you sighed in contentment.

“But really, what are we going to do? What if it really is…”

He hummed, thinking. “We’ll have a little one that’s half you and half me—” A grimace occurred when he said this “—Then we’re going to be the parents you’ve always wanted us to be.”

“And if not?”

Your voice was uneven, already scared of the contrasting scenario.

“Then… we’ll take it from there. Maybe we can adopt an orphaned elf… or… some kittens?’

Hoseok looked at you with a sheepish smile, and your heart swelled with adoration. It never failed that he would always try to compromise with you; to give your impossible wants and desires a chance to actually be possible… right up to parenthood.

“Okay,” you acquiesced.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Let’s just… take this one day at a time.”

The fairy king nodded, a wide smile covering his face as a little gust of wind rustled the items in the room. You placed your hand on one of his wings, signaling that he needed to be careful. He stared at you lovingly for a minute before you cleared your throat.

“So, um, are we going to plant this?”

Hoseok’s eyes grew wide as he jumped to his feet, frantically searching around the room.

“Uh, UH. Fuck. Um.” You followed him out of the bedroom, and found him searching through a closet.

Already surrounded by pots, you watched in amusement as Hoseok searched through the storage closet for the perfect thing to place the hope-to-be-human-fairy seed.

“Why are all of our flower pots so big?”

Smirking, you walked over to where he was crouched on the ground. Careful to not knock over any of the clay, glass, or plaster pots, you leaned over to pat Hoseok on the back.

“It’s not my fault your flower is so big.”

Hoseok went rigid for a moment, but his wings twitched ever so slightly. Turning his head to the side he glared at you, “Y/N, baby. Please don’t try to turn me on right now; we have important matters at hand.”

You laughed when the serious look on his face broke, “sorry, couldn’t help it. Why do you need a flower pot? I thought you told me that people don’t move their flowers into containers of sorts until they’re older.”

“Well yes,” he said, standing to face you. “But this is a little different. I don’t know how safe it would be to plant this outside.”

“I—” You stopped for a moment, considering. “Do you think we should visit the Mother Tree and see if she has any guidance for us?”

He smiled, kissing your cheek.

“Sometimes I think you’re a better fairy than I am.”

~~~~~~

The air was warm as it whistled past your ear, and you were grateful to have worn shorts and not a skirt to venture out in today.

After years of being the human queen of the fairies, it would be assumed that you were used to it. But perhaps, you never will be. Even when little Luna clumsily flies up to you shouting ma-jesty, for the umpteenth day in a row since she heard her father say your majesty, you are still in awe of the world around you.

Luna holds a special place in your heart, and not simply because she is the daughter of one of your closest friends.

“Luna, come back here!”

You laughed as you welcomed the little orange fairy, who bloomed from a beautiful bird of paradise, into your arms.

“It’s alright Taehyung, you know I don’t mind.

You see, Luna was the offspring of Taehyung’s grey—borderline white—Agapanthus, and Charlotte’s yellow Daffodil. She is a bundle of joy and is the first fairy you’ve ever witnessed be born.

Bloomed I should say.

“Luna, baby. Leave the queen to her business.”

To say that you still hated Charlotte would be a stretch of the truth. She still had one of those personalities that would always clash with yours, but… she was an alright girl at the very least. Gone was the immature high school trope she lived her life by, and in her place was a mature woman that loved the people close to her.

You gazed over at Luna, who was leaping back and forth between Taehyung and Charlotte, with an amused expression on your face. Hoseok glanced over at you and he chuckled, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

It wasn’t until Taehyung flew into her life that Charlotte realized that love knew no bounds; not gender, not age, and certainly not species. How he was the one to thaw out her heart is beyond you, but you were happy either way.

The two sent you on your way with well wishes, and Luna plucked a blossom from the low-branch of nearby tree for you.

“Luna is so fucking cute,” you groaned when you had walked far enough away from the little ears. “Could you imagine how cute our kid would be if we—”

“I heard the word kid,” a voice came from above and you looked up to see Namjoon fluttering down and a nosediving Park Jimin not far behind him.

“Namjoof—” Your greeting was cut short by Jimin pulling up too late, which in turn caused a dogpile of three fairies and a human to happen right in the center of the village.

The four of you laughed, but you became frantic as you tried to push yourself up off the ground. You felt your pockets, but the little pouch you were holding the seed in, was nowhere to be found.

“Y/N, did you drop this?”

You spun around to see Jimin holding the satin baggie in one hand, and beginning to undo the ties with the other.

“Jimin no!” You shouted as you lunged forward, causing all three fairies to look at you oddly

Reaching for the pouch was meant to be easy, simple. You could come up with an excuse, and be on your way.

But Jimin is an ass.

He pulled the pouch out of your grasp, holding it high in the air. Thankfully Jimin wasn’t that tall, so the pouch was still within reach.

Until he decided to play dirty.

Namjoon had flown to the pink fairy’s side, trying to peer into the pouch as well. Frustration bubbled in your chest, and you were both pissed and scared.

Hoseok was looking on at the interaction hunched over in laughter. You shot him a glare and gestured up to the two men in the air.

He visibly gulped, and cleared his throat, “Jimin, give the pouch back.”

The king’s request came just in time, as Jimin had only just unraveled the pouch. But, he was at a standstill in the air as he contemplated whether the request came as his friend or as is king.

“Park Jimin.” Gritting your teeth, you held your hand out for the pouch. “Give it to me right. Now.”

Finally realizing you were gravely serious about the pouch, he acquiesced and flew to the ground.

“Y/N?” The pink fairy spoke low, almost concerned over your reaction.

You slumped, the weight of the secret already hanging over your head. “Just go, Jimin. I… I’ll explain another day.”

He nodded, grabbing Namjoon by the arm and flying off together. A pointed look was shot in Hoseok’s direction, and he nodded in understanding; walking towards the Mother Tree wasn’t an option right now.

So, instead, you flew.

~~~~~~

You wondered if the Mother Tree ever changed; if she ever went through cycles like the fairies she presides over.

When you walked into the clearing an instant wave of calm fell over you; Hoseok’s natural reaction was to outstretch his wings and fly to the base of the tree. A giggle tumbled from your lips at his giddiness, but you could never tell if it came from his inherent, childlike personality, or if it was from a fairy meeting its maker.

Nonetheless, you took your time to be able to glance around the clearing.

There was a small ring of dandelions in the center of the area, and an eerie feeling rose in your stomach. It had been years since that fateful night, but the memory was still there.

Always.

The loss of Hoseok’s mother was something that took ages to work through; a period of grief that Hoseok—and his unsuspecting father, reincarnated a month or so later—had to work through alone.

You had feared that the previous king would hate you, but it was quite the contrary. Once things had begun to emotionally resolve, he opened up again. Though you were still weary when he took you aside and spoke to you without listening ears.

“Y/N, dear, come?”

You followed the king’s beckoning with a worried nod of your head. He led you outside and held his hand out for you. Only with a gentle smile and prompting did you decide to take it. As fairies do, he flew the two of you towards the Mother Tree and landed on the soft grass of the clearing.

The king took a few steps towards the center before crouching. You watched as he plucked some things from the ground, and realized they were weeds when he tossed them to the side.

“Tell me, child. Why do you think I’ve brought you here, of all places?”

Standing there, you glanced at the circle and chose to remain silent.

“She will come again, though it is uncertain how long it will take.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he held a hand up to show that he wasn’t done talking.

“Though she has a cursed soul, she spent more years being the epitome of good than she had evil. So, she will come back, and I can only hope that my soul can find her in that lifetime.

“This could have been prevented if it were not for jealousy, anger—all human emotions—that have not been seen in our world for some time.”

You chewed your bottom lip, hanging your head in shame; guilt crept into your conscious and you felt like crumbling.

“Without these troublesome emotions you humans possess, our village would never have never known what it really means to love.”

The king was smiling at you softly when your gazes met.

“Us fairies are quite simple creatures; we fly, be merry, and get ‘married.’ It is in our nature to be gentle creatures, more often than not, But, we tend to lack… appreciation… of the good in us.”

The king then turned away from the center and faced the Mother Tree, a solemn look on his face when he did so.

“Y/N.”

You jumped at the sound of his voice after the breath of silence.

“I never want to see the Black Dahlia again. And to make that possible, I think it is time for a new generation of love to bloom amongst the fairies.”

“W-what,” you began with a stutter. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” he said when the Mother Tree began to rustle, “that perhaps it is time that the fairies are ruled by a fairy king and a human queen.”

Now, a few years later, you stood in the same spot where Hoseok’s father told you of his plans to relinquish the throne to his son. It brought a smile to your face, and you clutched the pouch tightly in your hand as you walked towards a waiting Hoseok.

“Are you ready?”

With a nod of your head, you knelt next to him. It was an odd experience, calling forth the spirit of the fairies. But, you made due.

“As long as the wind still blows, and the sun still rises, my heart will be yours.” Hoseok began.

“From this life until the next, my heart will be yours.” And you ended the beckoning while the roots of the tree rumbled around you.

When the Mother Tree “spoke” to you, it was as if an aura shielded you from onlookers. Though, you knew there were none; it was a general rule of thumb not to eavesdrop on a meeting with the spirit of the fairies.

“We come to you once again in a time of counsel,” Hoseok started, gazing up the bark of the tree.

“As you know, I am merely a human,” you took over for Hoseok. “Yet, we come to you in regards to an offspring.”

The air stilled around you, and the wilderness grew quiet. Hoseok sent a weary glance your way before he looked around nervously.

“Take it out of the pouch, Y/N” His voice came in the form of a hushed whisper.

Scared to break the aura surrounding you, the seed was taken from the pouch silently. You bowed your head in respect before carrying on with your intentions.

“We want to know—is there a—how do we—”

You sighed in frustration, not sure how to formally ask this question. Whining when you felt defeated, you decided to just let it all out.

“ThisShowedUpInMyVomitAndWeWantToKnowIfItsABaby.”

Hoseok couldn’t help but laugh when he barely caught the exasperated breath that was released after the long string of words. A giggle tumbled from your lips as if you were a child sitting at the back of the classroom, laughing while the teacher lectured.

Silence was pulled from your mouths when the still air grew wild around your secluded haven. The seed was held tightly in your hands, supposedly protected from the strong gusts of wind.

There was a sudden pull, almost magnetic, that your hand was desperately trying to follow. You gasped, realizing the seed was trying to escape your iron-grip.

And you tried, you really tried to hold on. But nevertheless, seed won.

The moment that it left your hand, the winds disappeared as if they had never begun. Cautiously, you reached forward so as not to shift the soil and cause the seed to roll away.

It was to your horror that the white seed sank into the ground and vanished before your eyes, as if the loose soil reached up to take it away. The dirt shimmered, and it would have looked like a scene out of a Disney movie if you weren’t seeing it with your very own eyes.

Blankly, you looked towards Hoseok who seemed to be just as confused as you were. He reached forward, moving the dirt around with his fingers tips; no matter how much he dug into the soil, there was no sign of that little white seed.

“Is this a good thing or a bad thing?”

The question was asked under your breath, and Hoseok could not have heard it without being who he is. His large hand enveloped yours, and you felt his squeeze it tenderly.

“I suppose we’ll find out in three months.”

~~~~~~

Every day for three months, any fairy in the village could see you sitting at the base of the Mother Tree. Either you were alone or with Hoseok, but every afternoon you were right there.

The first time Hoseok found you there, back propped up against the rough bark, you were mumbling something to yourself.

“It was almost creepy,” he had teased when he recounted the smile that tugged at the edges of your mouth.

“I was talking to our child, you know,” you had replied in mock defense.

That little interaction was what gave Hoseok cause to sit you down once more, reminding you not to get your hopes up too high. But he really didn’t have to be the one to tell you that.

Any time your heart sped up with the slightest hint of excitement, it was instantly brought down to earth by reality. Deep down you knew that this was a zero to none chance of this actually happening but… you resigned yourself to staying confident.

If I can deal with the last five years of my life, I can deal with the grief of not having a human-fairy hybrid baby.

You knew you’d be alright; just the thought of Hoseok being willing to “adopt” comforted you.

And so, when you and Hoseok walked hand in hand—around the outskirts of town—towards the Mother Tree, you were filled with a mixed feeling of hope and despair.

Stepping into the clearing, it was actually Hoseok that was slow to follow. In three months, he barely gave his two cents on the whole ordeal. This made you think that he really believed nothing would come from this.

But when you his still form tugged you backward, you turned to see a trembling man lost in his doubts.

“H-Hoseok?”

Shock riddled your features as you took notice of the way his bottom lip stuck out ever so slightly, and how his eyes were squeezed shut in anguish.

“What if nothing’s happened?”

“Then…” you began, stopping to pull him into a hug. “Then we adopt a little, orphaned elf and love that child with all that we are and be the parents we always wanted to be.”

You felt the single drop of a tear that collected in his eyes fall to your shoulder, and you heard him sniffle out a laugh.

“Okay,” he murmured into your hair, straightening up and putting on the bravest face he could muster.

It broke your heart to see Hoseok—a man who had felt more pain than any fairy in history—look more distraught than you had ever seen him the years that you’ve known him.

But, he had a brave disposition and always trusted you, through thick and thin. That’s why, when he took your hand and led you towards the Mother Tree, you couldn’t help but feel the smallest, most pleasant tingle in your shoulder.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have been convinced that the air temperature dropped around you. But, you knew that—unless it was time for its “scheduled” rain cycle—the fairy world stuck to its regular seventyish degree weather.

You shivered involuntarily anyway.

“Fuck,” Hoseok cursed under his breath, standing still next to you.

Tears threatened to fall, no doubt. The weight of the world fell on your heart and tried to crush it.

There was nothing where you hoped a little blossom would reside.

“Let’s go home, Hoseok.”

~~~~~~

The Mother Tree was shunned, for lack of a better word. Not in a hostile sense, of course. No, you didn’t call a strike against the spirit, nor did you curse her.

You just… made it a blatant point not to visit.

For roughly six months, the fairy world was displayed in very dull colors; as if the LCD on a computer was distorted and malfunctioning.

For the first three months, you still woke up every day, smiling to see Hoseok by your side. Until of course, December rolled around, and it was time to say goodbye.

You rarely felt the pang of ache in your heart when saying farewell to your fairy lover for three months; it was a part of life you had grown accustomed to, even excitable to see another red petal appear on his flower each year.

This reincarnation cycle was the hardest one you had ever dealt with; the shattered hope was forgotten momentarily until you saw Hoseok’s flowerpot in the window-sill or saw little Luna in the village. Not having him there to comfort you was becoming unbearable

But as you always did, you held on to the smallest sliver of hope that you could, so long as it existed. Whenever you felt the sadness creep back up, you thought about Hoseok’s final reassuring words.

“Why are you cryin’, dandelion?”

A choked laugh left your mouth at Hoseok’s purposeful rhyme.

“I’m just going to miss you so much,” you gently cried into his shoulder.

He tried to laugh at what he thought was an exaggerated temper tantrum—one you pulled every year—but when you an actual sob wrecked your chest, he swallowed deeply and grimaced.

“Hey,” he muttered into your ear when he pulled you into his chest. “It’s the same three months it has been for years; I’ll be back before you know it. Maybe we can go see Mark when I come home, okay? It’s going to be okay, you are going to be okay.”

Laying in bed, you lifted a hand to swipe at the lone tear that was falling from your eye. Then, with a groan, you rolled over to see the sun peeking out from behind leafy curtains and you knew it was time to start getting out of bed before one in the afternoon.

With that in mind, you took a look at your watch on the nightstand and sighed in relief to find it was only eleven. The momentary breath of calm was replaced with slight panic when your eye caught sight of the calendar you had tacked on the wall—via command strips, of course; Hoseok would cry if you had stuck a nail in his house.

Hoseok comes back tomorrow!

Normally, this would have been a cause for joy and not panic but… you’ve neglected your duties and are way behind on arranging for the feast. So, you threw on some slightly nicer clothes than you usually wore—disregarding any makeup, jewelry, and even your crown that is normal to your attire—and sprinted towards the throne room.

The room was buzzing, fluttering, with fairies, and they all paused in their current tasks to turn in your direction.

“Hi—Hello—good morning—you look nice today, Yoonji—”

You had no time for their usual formalities, and merely mustered up simple greeting to the ones you passed. Instead, you went straight towards the thrones.

Upon closer notice, Park Jimin was standing front and center, glaring at you.

I’m so fucked.

The pink fairy gave you a pointed glare and rolled his eyes when you gave him a sheepish grin. He huffed, turning away from you while ticking things off of the device he was holding.

“Jimin is there—”

“Can you place that a little higher?” Jimin called out to the fairies in the air trying to stretch garlands of flowers across the ceiling, “can you make it arch a little more?”

You waited until he finished his request before trying to speak again, “it looks really nice in—”

“Have we collected enough lightning bugs to illuminate the room for the last hour once the sun goes down?”

A “yes, Jimin!” could be heard from the corner, and he nodded in satisfaction before thumbing away at the screen.

“Can we please—”

“Park Jimin,” you griped, taking the device away from him. “I gave you this stupid tablet, you can’t use it as a means to ignore me!”

After sighing in compliance, he turned his full attention towards you. It was obvious he was waiting for you to say something, surely expecting you to apologize for not helping with the preparations.

Like you always do. Every year.

When Jimin realized you wouldn’t speak first, he decided to do so for you.

“How are you today, your majesty?”

Your shoulders sank at his snarky remark and your eyes fell to the ground in shame. It was shitty of you, telling Jimin that you needed a break for a while and then literally never leaving your room except when necessary.

It was shitty to force more responsibility on him even when he has to stand in place of Hoseok while he’s away.

“Y/N,” he relented, softening at the pained look on your face. “Why have you been like this? Is it because Hoseok’s gone? We’ve been doing this for years, if you were lonely then you should have—”

You shook your head, signaling that it wasn’t that.

“Jimin, I—” You tried to begin, but you were stuck on the right words. “If we’re going to talk, we need to do so now. Before I change my mind and crawl back into my hole.”

The pink fairy, your absolute best friend, squinted his piercing eyes at you before he popped off. Again.

“If I was a worse person, I’d wish my reincarnation cycle hadn’t shifted so that I could ignore you for three months too… but… of course.”

He turned then, calling an end to the set up for the moment. The fairies convened for a moment, agreeing to gather later in the evening. They filed out one by one, and you waited until the last fairy’s blue wings shimmered out of sight before turning to Jimin.

To waste time, you took smaller steps than necessary towards the thrones. You hesitated for a moment when deciding where you would sit.

Taking comfort in Hoseok’s seat, you broke protocol just this once.

“If anyone besides Hoseok or I saw you sitting there, you’d give a fairy the first heart attack in history,” he chuckled before lounging across your own.

“And if anyone besides me saw you sitting in my seat, they’d clip your wings,” you threw back with a sneer. “Do fairies even have hearts?”

“Yes, sort of—” Jimin stopped himself before he could let you open that can of worms. “Stop procrastinating. Start talking.”

Twiddling your thumbs, your eyes moved across the ground—your lap, your shoes, anything—so you could figure out where to begin.

“Last summer I was… sick… quite often,” you began, voice unsteady. “And we went to the doctor, who couldn’t find anything wrong with me, of course. Even made me get a pregnancy test, which Hoseok and I thought was comical…”

Jimin hummed.

“Well, the doctor told me to try changing my diet; I was throwing up a lot you see. So he suggested less of this type of food, more of this. So, I had to stop eating so many berries and more nuts because of the sugar in one and the protein in the other and—”

Y/N, you’re rambling.

“I digress,” you said with a wave of your hand. “Well, after a week or two of still throwing up every single morning, there was one day when I discovered something in the wastebasket.”

Jimin knew how to be silly, he knew how to be funny at the right time to help ease some stress. He knew you so well and that was why he was your best friend after all that’s occurred since he entered your life.

The goofy fairy had leaned forward dramatically, acting like he was on the edge of seat as he listened, “did you discover a hidden treasure in the wastebasket?”

Of course, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “no,” you said with a laugh. “anyway, I reached in and pulled it out—”

“EW.”

“Anyway,” you emphasized when he grimaced at the idea of you reaching into the trashcan. “Cleaned the thing off, and it was a rock. That I threw up. Well I thought it was a rock, but things started to click into place and we came to the realization that it was a—”

“Seed! Y/N this is amazing! You are the first human that has ever—wait.” He paused his outburst, realizing you weren’t overflowing with joy with him. “Why aren’t you happy right now?”

The calm collection you felt had washed away almost as quickly as it had come; you felt embarrassed, alone even when you talked about this misfortune.

You could even feel tears brimming in your eyes when you thought about how weird it must be to be so upset about something like this.

But Jimin wouldn’t have it; like Hoseok, he takes full advantage of those little shimmery flecks of goodness that he can rain down upon you to make you feel better.

Sometimes it’s annoying. Right now, you’re grateful.

When the calming action had taken effect, you were able to start again.

“We weren’t sure what to do.” Your breath was barely above a whisper, but you knew Jimin could manage. “But we planted it, and hoped that in three months we would come back to find a little one but… Every day, I sat there with it waiting for it to bloom but it never did. It’s been six months now, tomorrow being nine since it was planted, but ever since Hoseok left I just c-couldn’t.”

His face fell, understanding the meaning by the vague words; you couldn’t exactly tell his expression because it was blurred by more tears that were spilling again.

Jimin pulled you into his arms, up from the throne and rocked you back and forth. Those pink wings encased you, and the fairy had nothing but kind words for you.

“It’s gonna be okay, Y/N. Hoseok will be home tomorrow, and I’ll be here for you just the same.”

~~~~~~

You made your way towards the ballroom at the same as you always do on this day, but your reasons for being happy were a little bit different than in years past.

Of course, it was always with great excitement that you welcomed your fairy lover back into the world. But, this time it wasn’t because you were happy that he wasn’t stuck in a seed anymore.

It was because you were allotting yourself a point in your life to be selfish, to wish for what is going to be best for you. And right now, that was the little ball of sunshine with bright red hair, wings, and a beautiful smile.

Nonetheless, you were growing impatient. The clock on your phone screen said ten minutes, the face of your watch said twelve. You weren’t sure which one was correct, but you were annoyed either.

“It’s like I’m having a temper tantrum,” you muttered to yourself, eyes squeezing shut in frustration.”

“What else are you humans supposed to do?”

The voice from behind and its sarcastic remark startled you, but only for a minute when you turned around in shock

“What the fuck?”

In all his glory, the king of the fairies was standing in front of you with a shit eating grin stretching from ear to ear. He was stunning, he is always stunning right after reincarnation. There’s always a slightly brighter glow to his cheeks, and the color of his wings always shimmered that much more.

“Well,” Hoseok rolled his eyes, “hello to you too, dandelion.”

He pulled you into his chest once he had taken the stride—leap is a better word—to stand near you.

One of your favorite things about Hoseok is, and always has been, how he hugs with his entire being. Brief hugs are rare, even when things are hostile between the two of you.

Though it was something you found so strange at first, you can’t imagine Hoseok hugging you without wrapping both red wings all the way around your back.

It hit you then, and you realized why you actually shouldn’t be surprised that Hoseok appeared ‘earlier’ than usual.

“I forgot a-about day-daylight savings t-time again, didn’t I?” Your question was hindered by both tears and laughter.

The moment that Hoseok laughed along with you was when you realized you had nothing to worry about. Not right now, anyway.

Even when life felt as if it was too much, Jung Hoseok would appear out of nowhere to remind you that it wasn’t; that he’d be right there through it all

“I figured you would be planning this moment to the second, dandelion. Jimin told me you haven’t been feeling well, that’s why I decided to mingle first before coming to find you.”

You settled in silence for a beat before pulling away from him and out of the warmth of his grasp. Sighing, you laced your fingers with his and tugged him towards the door.

“I know… it’s just been difficult this time around. Ask Jimin, he’ll understand how MIA I’ve gone.”

Hoseok frowned, pulling you back a little bit, “Y/N, I think it’s time we tell everyone. Well not everyone, just people like Jimin, Taehyung, and Namjoon.”

Nodding you replied, “I’ve already told Jimin. But I think you’re right. After we sit down and talk to Jimin a little bit more, we can tell the other boys the situation too.”

Hoseok agreed, tight-lipped and firm but he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before you continued through the door to play your role in the king’s reincarnation banquet.

Thankfully, the red-haired fairy had taken your hour of absence in stride and conversed with a great majority of the attendants (which was all of the fairies, of course). Once you had entered, though, you could see Jimin immediately sigh a breath of relief.

It was on evenings like this, when the village had cause for celebration—though, that was still quite often, given the nature of fairies—that you felt the most at peace. As the fairies drank their special elixirs, or damnation in a cup as your human liver would probably call it, you could sit back and sip on your own glass of wine and enjoy the merriment.

Of course, something was still off, and many fairies that approached you in greeting had commented so.

“Just feeling a little bit ill,” you would tell them when they’d react to your sullen face.

Eventually you had “lied” to just the right person, Namjoon and Taehyung, to be exact, and soon you were saying goodbye after only a short time of socializing.

Though, the night of talking wasn’t over with, and you had flagged Jimin down as you were leaving. The poor fairy was in the midst of trying to impress a group of women, to which he protested when you dragged his half-sober self from embarrassing himself.

“Jimin, you never drink!”

Hoseok playfully scolded the younger as the two of you watched in amazement as Jimin brushed up against the walls one too many times.

Once you had gotten outdoors though, Jimin was free to laugh and barrel roll through the air as he pleased.

Turning to Hoseok with an amused smile on your face, you laughed, “I want what he had.”

“Hell no,” he replied shortly, much to your disappointment. “Though, we should probably wait until he sobers up to have that conversation with him.”

“Conversation with who?”

Jimin landed right in front of you only teetering a little bit when his feet touched the ground.

“That important stuff we talked about yesterday, there’s more things we’d both like to say about it.”

The drunken fairy hummed, face changing when he realized what you had meant.

“Oh, right. I can dig it up for you if you haven’t done so already.”

“What are you going on about?”

“Wouldn’t be s’great as a reminder, you know? Having it sitting in one of your pots, Y/N.”

Hoseok intervened, an eyebrow already quirked. “We didn’t plant it in a pot, Jimin?”

“Oh. Well, then where’d it go?”

You dragged your hand down your face, and groaned.

“We didn’t plant it ourselves. It just kind of sunk into the ground and disappeared. Remember when I told you we went to the Mother Tree for guidance?”

Jimin teetered for a moment, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in inebriated contemplation, “and I thought you said nothing came of it?”

“No, it didn’t, Jimin.” Hoseok huffed in irritation.

“Then why s’there such a pretty new flower at the base of the Mother Tree?”

“WHAT?”

Simultaneously, both you and Hoseok answered the question in a flurry of confusion. The two of you stared at one another, before glancing back at a very puzzled Jimin.

“Yeah today there was a—”

But you didn’t hear anything as you and Hoseok raced towards the Tree. Had you not been panicking to find out what Jimin’s drunken confession meant, you would have told Hoseok not to fly so hard.

When your feet touched the ground, however, your thoughts immediately led you through the clearing.

You could feel a change in the atmosphere the moment you were within the direct vicinity of the Mother Tree. Yet, nothing could prepare you for the change your life was about to welcome.

“My gods,” Hoseok whispered, coming to your side.

Eyes opened for the first time the moment his hand grazed your shoulder in comfort. A tingling sensation ran through your soul-mark, and you watched in amazement as two different colored eyes stared back at you.

For in the soft center of a large dandelion was a beautiful, little fairy with bright golden wings to match.

#networkbangtan #kpopwonderlandtag #btsguild #bangtan bookclub #Jung Hoseok #Hoseok au #Hoseok fluff #Hoseok series #Park Jimin #Kim Namjoon #Kim Taehyung #Min Yoongi #Jeon Jungkook #Kim Seokjin

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virgiltheanxious · 6 years

Text

It’s Not Your Fault, Don’t Take Blame (Chapter Six)

Title: It’s Not Your Fault, Don’t Take Blame (Chapter Six)

Masterlist

Previous | Next

Pairing: Eventual Analogical

Warnings: None, I believe.

Word Count: 1, 196

Summary: Virgil is a single father. Not only that, but he is a transgender single father. After leaving his parents and not looking back, he is left to raise his child with only help from his High School friend Patton.

As he plans a small birthday party for his son, Aeneas, he meets Roman and Logan. He never had any friends outside of Patton before but now it seems he not only has two new ones but a love interest as well.

Now, the only question is what will he do when someone calls child protective services on him?

Tags: Ask if you want to be tagged! General: @my-happy-little-bean@nightmarejasmine

A week had gone by and it was finally time for Aeneas’s surprise party. Patton had picked up Aeneas at 10 in the morning, giving Virgil enough time to drive to Walmart, grab the cake, drive back, and decorate at least most of the house before anyone got there.

Virgil had already grabbed the cake and put it in the freezer because he didn’t want to risk any of it melting in the heat. He then rushed to his bedroom, grabbing all the decorations in his hands and plopping them on the couch. He first took out the streamers and pulled a chair from the kitchen table. He stood up on it and pinned one end of the streamer to one corner of the living room, twisting it when he went down, and pinned it to the other corner. He did this with every color he had. Two colors were on one set of corners and two others were on the others. He then used the four sections and had one color of streamers, pinning them all to the middle of the room.

He kept stringing streamers in various places and when he checked the time next, it was already nearly 11:30. He decided to hurry and tie two of the special balloons he had got at the Dollar Tree on a chair, designated it as the birthday kid chair. He also wrapped streamers around the poles of the chair. Hearing a knock on the door, Virgil panicked because he had not expected anyone to be knocking yet. A quick glance at the stove’s clock told him it was 11:56 A.M.. So someone was early.

The door was quickly opened to reveal Roman, Eddy, and another male that Virgil had not met yet.

“Greetings, Virgil! I hope you don’t mind that I brought my husband, Ethan, along,” Roman commented.

Virgil moved aside to allow them to come in and smiled, “No, I don’t at all. How’re you guys doing?”

“Good! Eddy was really excited to get here, he practically pushed us out of the door,” Ethan commented, ruffling Eddy’s hair.

“I wanted to see An! We never see him outside of daycare,” Eddy exclaimed, huffing and crossing his arms.

“Sorry, that would be on me bud,” Virgil laughed, “I’m at work a lot of the time.”

“Really? What do you do for work?” Roman asked curiously, resulting in Ethan slapping him lightly on the chest.

“Roman, we talked about this. You don’t ask people about work the first time you meet them!” Ethan mumble, barely loud enough for Virgil to hear.

“Oh, uhm, I really don’t mind too much- I work three jobs, actually. I did go to college but I’m having a hard time actually finding a job that fits my degree.”

Roman nodded, “So mom not around to help out?”

Ethan covered his face in embarrassment. “Roman, I swear to god.”

“Uh. No,” Virgil asked, fidgeting with his bracelets. He didn’t really enjoy where this situation was going and he really wasn’t interested in talking about Aeneas’s other dad because that meant more questions. Questions about if he was adopted or not- which was quite obviously not the case. It would all be questions that result in him coming out as transgender, which wasn’t very fun.

Luckily, there was another knock at his door that saved him from any other conversation. He heard Ethan sighing at Roman and telling him to stop talking about that type of stuff when he first meets someone. To which Roman responded ‘Technically I met him once before!’ Virgil ignored it, opening the door for who he presumed would be Logan and Evelyn. And he was right.

“Hi, Logan, Evelyn, welcome to the party! I’ll just text Patton to bring Aeneas back now,” Virgil commented, closing the door behind the two as soon as they were in the apartment. He then whipped out his phone to text Patton.

Virgil: Patton we are ready for you to come back with Aeneas now.

Virgil: Also please text us when youre here

Virgil: oh and dont text and drive thats not good

Locking his phone, he went back to the living room where the parents were sitting on the couch and Evelyn and Eddy were on the floor talking.

“Okay, so I have some balloons-” A sharp gasp from the children and Roman interrupted him. “-and I didn’t get to blow them up so if you guys want some balloons you could blow them up by yourself.”

“Oh goodie!” Roman said, standing up and grabbing the bag of balloons from Virgil. “Eddy come with your dad we are blowing up balloons!” Eddy smiled and ran up to his dad, who gave him a balloon.

Virgil glanced at Evelyn who was standing next to Eddy and requesting a balloon as well. Roman taught the two how to blow up balloons and they had decided that tieing them was too hard, so Logan, Ethan, and Virgil got stuck with tieing them and throwing them to the ground. This process went faster than expected and the had finished before Virgil had even got the text from Patton saying that they had arrived.

Remembering the confetti he had bought, Virgil jumped up. “Oh! I have a surprise for Eddy and Evelyn!” He said, grabbing the bags of confetti from the table. “I mean, the adults can do it too but I’m assuming the kids will have more fun.”

Virgil gave Eddy and Evelyn the packets of confetti and kneeled down. “Okay, so when Aeneas comes home we’re gonna throw this stuff at him. And technically Patton, too.”

Eddy’s eyes brightened up. “Really?!” He asked.

“Yeah!” Virgil giggled.

“Isn’t it just gonna cause a big mess, though?” Evelyn asked.

“Well, yes but you don’t need to worry about that. I’ll clean it up later,” Virgil stood up and turned to the adults “do you guys want to join in?” he offered.

“Yes!” Roman said, dragging Ethan with him. Virgil handed them both packets of glitter.

“Logan?” Virgil asked, offering him a packet to which Logan shook his head no.

“I would rather not have glitter on my clothes for the next month,” Logan commented.

Roman spoke up, “Suit yourself, Mr. Robot.”

Virgil felt a buzz in his pocket and checked his phone to see a text from Patton saying they were there. Virgil told him to come up and locked his phone. “They’re here! Aeneas will be up any minute now.”

Eddy, Evelyn, and Roman all hid in spots close to the door so they would be able to throw the confetti easily. Ethan had decided to just stand by the couch and pop out to throw the confetti when he was ready.Virgil didn’t bother hiding because he knew Aeneas would expect him anyway. The door opened and everyone jumped out, throwing the confetti and getting it everywhere.

“Surprise!” They all shouted. (Except for Logan. He just said it in his normal voice.)

Aeneas gasped and had the biggest grin Virgil and ever seen on his face. He was really, truly happy. And that made Virgil happy.

#Virgil Sanders #Anxiety Sanders #Patton Sanders #Morality Sanders #Logan Sanders #Logic Sanders #Roman Sanders #Prince sanders #sanders sides #ts sides #ts #ss #big bang #ss big bang #ts big bang #ts-storytime

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everythingshawnmendes · 6 years

Text

A Heart’s Memory (Teacher!Shawn Mendes x Reader)

A/N: I read something like this in a Harry Styles fic, I really don’t remember from where though. If you are the writer and want this removed, with all due respect contact me, I am in no way shape or form trying to plagiarize.

Summary: Shawn is an elementary school teacher and has a son with his wife who unfortunately died during childbirth. Y/N has a daughter the age of his son and they go to school together. Little does she know her kid’s teacher is her first love from school.

5k+ words

tag @xmanorianx @shawnsassymendes

Inspired from this:

“Can you ever stop loving someone?

You never stop loving. Once you love someone, honestly, truly, you will never be able to un-love them. At that time your old love will not feel so strong, but it is a heart, and it will never let you forget something that ever made you happy.”

Shawn sat back and admired his newly decorated classroom. It was August 30th, the day before school would start again. He taught the 2nd grade, the grade his son Thomas was in.

Teaching elementary school made Shawn so incredibly happy. He loved kids, and what he loved even more than them was his role of leading them through the beginning of their lives and making sure each one of his students was happy. Childhood was really a crucial part to anybody’s happiness and life, and he wanted to make sure every child felt like home in his classroom. He decorated the room with plants, planning on assigning one to each student so they can water it and let it grow. In the corner, he put blankets and bean bags for naptime, because the lucky 7-year-olds he taught were granted a nap time twice a week after lunch. He also purchased new games, books and coloring sheets for downtime. He also hoped to get a pet fish or hamster, so they can look after it together, but he would have to check out the dynamic of the group before that. One year, his class and he had a goldfish and it was truly a part of their class; another year, they had a betta fish and the students completely neglected it and Shawn had to be the one feeding it everyday.

He also put posters across the walls, bright colorful ones to mask the dull white that surrounded the room. He checked out his class list. He was very happy, since from a special request, most of his students from 1st grade that he taught last year will have been moved to his class so they can do 2 years together. He wasn’t one to choose favourites but there was this girl that was best friends with his son Thomas, that he absolutely adored. Witty, comical and yet very understanding, Rose was for sure one of his most prized students.

He checked the cabinets to make sure there were cookies and cups. The first day of school always ended with a teacher-parent meeting. He was never really nervous for those, since he knew that he was a good teacher, and everybody else seemed to think so too.

Shawn closed his classroom door, waved goodbye to his colleagues and went to the school yard where he left Thomas. The end of summer breeze was certainly there, but he was warm enough in his thin button up shirt.

“Hey buddy, we’re leaving!” He ran up to his son, who was sliding down a slide that was Shawn’s height.

“Daddy I don’t wanna go! Rose is here.”

“Oh hey, Rose, didn’t see ya there!” Shawn waved at the smiling girl behind his son.

“Hi Mr. Mendes! Is Tommy gonna be in our class this year?” She asked, two (your hair color) French braids falling down on her shoulders.

“No unfortunately. Rules say it wouldn’t be fair if a kid had their parent as a teacher.” Shawn made an exaggerated pouty sad face.

“No!”

“It’s okay Rose, we will see each other at recess. And lunch. And second recess.” Thomas said affirmatively.

The two slid down the slide to join Shawn on the pebbled ground.

“Wait a minute.” Shawn frowned. “Rose, how’d you get here?”

“I Apparated, duh.” She said, making Shawn chuckle. The saying sounded vaguely familiar, but he just brushed it off, assuming he just watched Harry Potter too many times. “My babysitter drove me.” She pointed at a car in the parking lot, in which sat a woman on the phone.

“My bad. So will I be seeing your parents tomorrow?” He asked her.

“Hmm… I think my mommy will come!”

“Alright cool! I’ve never met her actually.”

“She’s the best. I’m cooler of course, but shh don’t tell her I said that.” She smiled even wide, her smile making Shawn melt.

The three walked to the parking lot, Shawn racing them to the fence and letting them win, feigning being out of breath.

“Beat ya!” Tommy shouted as he watched his dad stagger up to him, clutching his chest.

“Yes, you did! My man.” Shawn exclaimed, picking his son up and twirling him in the air.

They both waved goodbye to Rose and got on the road. They didn’t live very far, only a couple minutes away. It was a neighbourhood school after all, none of the students living over twenty minutes away.

On the way home, Thomas told Shawn a story about a game he played, but Shawn zoned out a bit.

He thought about what Rose said about her mother saying, which lead him to think about Thomas’ mom.

He got married to her and had Thomas, but unfortunately, she passed away from a mishap during her C-section. They were both so young. He pushed the thoughts away from his mind. It was very hard to get over at first, but he had quite a distraction since Thomas was still to be taken care of. They were quite happy, Shawn remembered. But she was gone, and it had been way too long, and the memory of her became very foggy. He wished Thomas could grow up with a mother, because even though he gave his son everything, all of his love, a child deserves a mother’s too.

“And then BOOM! Thomas the train crashed into the station!”

Shawn snapped out of his trail of thoughts and grinned at his son through the mirror.

“You’re kidding!” Shawn exclaimed.

“Nope.” Thomas said, before looking out the window, the TV episode clearly replaying in his head.

Shawn shook his head, smiling and pulled up to the driveway.

“Alright buddy, what do you want for dinner?” He ruffled his son’s head as they took off their shoes in the entrance, Shawn picking up a bunch of toys left astray.

Thomas pondered a while, as if this decision was as important as choosing a wife.

“Lasagna!”

“I think we can make that happen. Wanna help me?”

“Okay!”

Y/N turned her key in the doorknob and opened the door.

“Mommy!” Rose came running down the stairs to hug her mother.

“Rosie, hi darling.” Y/N kneeled down to hug her daughter tightly.

Y/N was a full-time single mother and worked her ass off everyday. She was a private optometrist, having her own clinic. Her hours usually extended from 9-6, which is still pretty late as Rose finishes school at 3. Y/N was a terrific mother, and Rose was the center of her world. She knew when to be soft, when to be harsh, what to teach and how to teach it. The only thing was she worked, to give Rose and her the most comfortable life possible.

Y/N got pregnant with Rose the last year of optometry school by her then-boyfriend. He left them and ever since then, Y/N had been on her own. She was definitely not as strong as she made her look, but Rose was her drive in life. Ever since then, she had worked so that she could be where she was today.

She lived in a comfortable home, not too big since they were only two, plus their cat. Rose had a babysitter from 3-5, as Y/N could almost never make it to pick Rose up when school ended.

When Rose was even younger, and Y/N’s clinic had only started and she had to work longer hours, Y/N would often bring Rose to her work. Now though, they had a much nicer schedule. Y/N’s clinic was popular enough for her to hire another optometrist to work the evening.

“Hi Sam, thanks so much.” Y/N hugged the babysitter goodbye. “So, what were you up to today?” She said, taking off her blazer and going to pull out a dinner out the fridge that she had prepped during the weekend.

“Can you come to the parent-teacher conference tomorrow after school? I wanna you to meet my teacher.”

“Wait, are you gonna have your last year’s, the one you absolutely adore?”

“Yeah! Mr. Mendes!”

“Hmm. Okay love, I’ll try.”

Shawn dressed up a tiny tad fancy for the first school day. It was elementary school after all, the dress code was very very flexible, but he wanted to make a good impression on the parents. He had a weird feeling in his stomach as if someone he knew was going to be there and he wanted to look his best, but he shook it of as nerves. He opted for a cool printed blue shirt and added a jacket on top.

His day had been amazing, his students rushed in when the eight ’o’clock bell rang. They took their seats, and they played games, then designed their own name cards to stick on their desks. Shawn had lunch in the teacher’s lounge and chatted with the school secretary Amanda, a cute blonde he went out with once. The afternoon, he taught his students how to play chess and discussed on the subject of getting a pet, which was warmly welcomed.

“Can we get a dog?” A boy asked.

“How are we gonna keep a dog in a school?” Rose giggled. “We need an animal that won’t run around everywhere and won’t mind being in a cage at night when we’re not here!”

Shawn nodded.

“Wait, but don’t be sad Ollie.” Rose whispered to the boy who suggested the dog idea. “The dog was a really good idea. I actually really want one too, but my mommy doesn’t wanna.”

The day ended, and Shawn and the kids cleaned the class for the parents. The ones whose parents couldn’t come went home, and those who stayed colored on the paper cups their parents would drink coffee from later.

Thomas came from the other class to join his dad. He was sitting with Rose who was fast at work, decorating her cup with flowers. Her mom loved flowers.

A couple parents started walking in, greeting Shawn and then sat by their children. When only one or two chairs were empty, Shawn decided to start. He opened his mouth to greet the socializing parents but was interrupted by a woman’s voice by the door.

“Hi, is this- hey Rose!” Y/N said, spotting her daughter.

Shawn turned around and his insides came to a halt.

By the door stood a woman who looked no different than any other woman, that yet stood out to Shawn as if she was the only one he has ever seen. With soft (your hair color) hair that lay delicately on her shoulders, she had a smile that Shawn had seen too many times. Y/N, his first love from university. Her voice had not changed one bit, still honey-like smooth, and bird-song like melodic. She laughed when Rose ran up to her, and Shawn’s heart felt a pang. He hadn’t heard that laugh in over a decade, and yet the sound of it entering his eardrums again brought everything back and triggered a series of memories. Shawn ogled her. God, she was beautiful. She wore simple high-waisted work pants matched with black heels. Shawn smiled weakly, remembering something she once told him about loving loose pants, because it felt like she wasn’t wearing any. He was surprised to see her in heels though, because in university she absolutely swore off them. Well, things must’ve changed since they last saw each other, Shawn thought. Yes, things have changed. But the fluttering sensation his heart used to make around her did not fade away.

Y/N stood back up, placed a strand of her hair back and scanned the room for the teacher she had heard so much of. Her gaze laid on Shawn and she swallowed. Her university best friend turned lover looked ethereal to her right now. He looked exactly the same, and completely different. He was a man now, no longer a student boy; and yet all of his features were familiar. The brown of his eyes, the soft brown curl of hair that always fell in front of his eyes.

Shawn swore at himself internally. Of course, Y/N was Rose’s mother. Rose was the reincarnation of her, and all her mannerisms, her quirks. They had the same hair color, the same eyebrow shape, the same sense of humor, the same curiosity. He wanted to kick himself for not having realized the uncanny similarities. He gathered everything he had in him and approached her.

“Hi.” Y/N said, looking up at him. She chuckled. “Sorry I’m late, I wish I could just Apparate haha. I should’ve known it was you Rose was talking about when she spoke of a certain Mr. Mendes who loved to play guitar and had a mini Canada flag in his pencil holder.”

“And I should’ve known you were Rose’s mom. She’s just like you, it’s unreal.” Shawn said. He couldn’t help but glance down at her lips, and see they remained just as blossom-like, pink as they once were.

“Well, I’ll go take a seat. Maybe we can catch up after?” Y/N said hopefully.

“Of course.”

Y/N walked to Rose’s desk and sat down on her tiny chair, pulling her daughter onto her lap happily.

Shawn cleared his throat, suddenly way more nervous about this than he was twenty minutes ago. He proceeded to welcome everyone warmly, and talked about himself a bit, then his plan for the year, as well as some fun field trips he would like to take the kids on if the school decides to fund them.

In brief, Shawn thought the parents had taken a good liking to him. As they left one by one, he was greeted by handshakes and smiles. He saw Y/N in the corner of his eye looking around the classroom carefully. He knew she wanted to hang back and talk to him, and he was happy she did.

Thomas and Rose were in his little game corner, already cracking open the brand-new Monopoly game Shawn bought yesterday.

“I love what you did to the classroom.” Y/N turned around to Shawn, as he leaned back on a desk.

“Thanks, it’s really nothing. Just thought it’d be more pleasant to learn in a colorful class, you know?”

Y/N smiled at him, eyeing him. Finally, she said:

“I just can’t believe we bumped into each other like this again. How long has it been?” She asked almost breathlessly, as if amazed by the lapse of time that has passed.

“At least 8 years.” Shawn answered back incredulously. Y/N took a seat on the desk beside him, crossing her ankles.

“Damn.”

“So what have you been up to? How’d you have Rose?” There were so many questions Shawn had. They had gone from being inseparable to complete strangers, and a part of him wanted to make up that time. A part of him remembered her way too clearly now.

“Well. Since university, I’ve gone to optometry school. Got pregnant with Rose during my last year. When I graduated, her dad left us, so I worked my ass off to try to get my name out in the market. Worked for a couple clinics, before opening my own. And now I’m here!”

“I’m sorry about Rose’s father. Do you still have contact with him?” Shawn asked subtly.

“No, um we haven’t spoken since he left.” Y/N looked down, before looking back up at him. “And you? Thomas is a great kid.”

“Haha thank you. Um I’m widowed actually.”

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” Y/N put a hand on his arm.

“No no, it’s okay. It was a long time ago, I’m over it. But she was cool, you would’ve liked her.”

“Man, we’ve just got the best luck huh?” Y/N chuckled lightly, nudging his elbow playfully.

Shawn laughed with her, reddening slightly at the contact.

Y/N watched their two kids play.

“Rose loves Thomas, you know. Every day she’ll come home with some story about some shenanigan she pulled with him. He takes after you.”

“Thank you. And Rose is an absolute delight to teach.” “Really?” “Yeah.” “That’s great.”

They sat there for a while, just looking at each other and talking about nothing.

Everything had changed and yet, their conversation felt as if they had never lost contact with each other.

“Well, look at the time. I better get going, don’t want Rose to go to bed late and be sleepy for her second day of school!” Y/N stood up.

For a second, Shawn debated whether he should hug her goodbye or not. Who was he kidding, he couldn’t, they were good as strangers now. And that hurt him to think that.

“’Course. And don’t you worry about that, there’s a scheduled naptime for the kids tomorrow after lunch.” He smiled.

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“So lucky! I could’ve done with some scheduled naps when we were at school.”

Shawn chuckled. A vague image of Y/N laying on top of him, in nothing but underwear and a flannel, fast asleep, flashed across his mind.

“Rosie! We gotta get going hun.”

“I’m- I’m not even ti-i-ired.” She yawned. Y/N kissed her cheek laughing.

“Sure, you aren’t. Bye Thomas! It was really nice seeing you again, Shawn.” She waved.

“As for me. Oh! Will you come to the end of summer barbecue? I’m grilling.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll look out for it in the school newsletter?”

Shawn would’ve given her his number, but nodded.

“Rose’s mommy is pretty.” Thomas said, once the two girls were out of earshot.

Shawn laughed.

“She is.”

The rest of the week passed very quickly. Although Y/N and Shawn didn’t see each other, they were all they thought about.

Y/N sat at her desk, fiddling with her glasses. Why did she feel all jittery at the thought of Shawn? Her mind wandered about, thinking of how nice he looked. He was always cute, when they were in university he was already very good-looking. But now? Oh my fucking lord. He was a man. Y/N shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, feeling herself get all warm.

She stood up, checked the clock and walked over to her next patient.

“Hi, how are you?” She smiled cheerily to the squinty-eyed old man in clear need of glasses.

Shawn sat at his own desk, eyes skimming over some exam sheets. The kids were currently playing (2nd grade was definitely a tough year) and he decided to take this time to try to sort out which examinations would be appropriate to give his students in the near future.

His eyes stayed unfocused on the text before him though. Instead, images of Y/N flowed through his mind. Man, he hadn’t seen her in years. She was beautiful when they were together in university, but now. God. She still had that youth glow and shine to her, but everything seemed to have matured, grown sharper. She was a woman now. He smiled to himself. He was really proud of her.

“What if, Shawn, what if I don’t make it?”

Shawn looked down at her, who was laying on his lap. He continued running his fingers through her hair, but turned the TV down.

“What do you mean, not make it?”

“You know. What if I fail at like, life? What if I don’t finish this degree, and then like become a secretary?

“Listen. You are the brightest person I know, Y/N. Seriously. You’re so fucking smart, sometimes I just look at you and go «What the fuck?»”

Y/N smiled, and Shawn’s hand stroked her cheek.

“Thanks.” Y/N kissed his hand.

Boy, have they come a long way. Shawn went pink, thinking about what happened after that little conversation they had. How Y/N trailed kisses a little further up his arm, then to his neck; Shawn shifted in his seat and focused on what was in front of him.

“Mr. Mendes, can I go to the bathroom?”

Friday rolled around the corner in a flash and before he knew it, he was out in the school yard holding a ladder still while Amanda attached big helium balloons onto the huge banner that said, “Welcome back to school”. He watched Rose and Thomas fast at work in the sandbox, constructing what weirdly looked like a temple.

“Enjoying the view?” Amanda teased.

Shawn looked back at her.

“Wha-oh um. Haha.” He frowned to himself.

“So, why didn’t you call me this week?” She said, hopping off the ladder.

“Oh um.” Shawn scratched the back of his neck. “Thomas, was sick.”

“Oh no!” She looked over his shoulder to see Thomas running full speed toward them.

“Yeha, he made um a fast recovery.” Shawn reddened. He turned around. “Hey buddy!”

“Hi daddy. I’m hungry, when are we eating?”

“Uuum.” Shawn checked his watch. It was 4:30. “Can you wait another half hour?”

Thomas nodded. Rose appeared at his side.

“Hi Mr. Mendes!”

“Hi Rose! Your mom thinking about swinging by?”

“Yeah I think so!”

And with that, the two kids ran off to help themselves to lemonade at the drink table that Amanda had unnoticeably went to go help out at. Shawn cleared his throat and took the ladder back to the storage room.

What the hell was Y/N doing to him? He didn’t expect them to get back together anything, so why was he getting so nervous and excited each time the prospect of seeing her came about? He glanced at himself in the mirror. Somewhere deep down wanted Y/N to look at him though. He wanted to catch her staring, so he can see her cute blush. And with that, he unbuttoned a button on his grey shirt.

Y/N threw her purse over her shoulder and fumbled in it for her keys.

“Bye Gina!” She waved at her assistant, who lowered her glasses.

“You’re out early.”

Y/N leaned over the counter, smiling.

“Gotta go to my daughter’s school barbecue thing.”

“Ooh nice! You’re going to get tipsy on the free sangria for the parents, huh?”

“Maybe.” Y/N drummed her fingers on the desktop happily before walking out into the parking lot and hopping into her car.

Getting into her house, she ran up the stairs to her closet. Picking out an outfit she hadn’t worn since she became a mother, she looked at herself in the mirror.

Then sighed. What in the world was she doing? She was wearing a body suit with cut outs at her waist and shorts that Katy Perry sang about in “California Girls”.

“I’m way too fucking old for this.” She muttered to herself, taking off the ridiculous outfit.

Why was she so preoccupied about how she looked? She never gave a shit about her appearance. Hell, most of her life was spent in sweatpants, although that still attracted men’s attention..

It was Shawn. The back of her mind wanted to look good for him, wanted to see his gaze linger a little bit on her..

She checked her phone, 4:30. Slipping a simple black maxi dress on, she made her way to the school.

Man, she felt like a teenager again.

It was a very pleasant evening. The air was warm, and a calm breeze carried it to wrap it around everyone’s shoulders like a cozy blanket. The sky was still sunny, but everyone knew that soon the sun would be setting much sooner. It was a quarter past five, and Shawn stood at the grills along with the gym teacher and were working on burger patties, hotdogs, corn and vegetable skewers (Shawn knew those would be untouched, but maybe he could bribe the children to eat them with dessert.)

Y/N had arrived fifteen minutes before they got the grills started and chatted merrily with Shawn. It only took them those few minutes to warm up and shake the formalities away. If anyone saw them now, they would indeed believe that they were once best friends in university. Not lovers though, because the two tried their best to keep their eyes to themselves.

But it was so hard to. Shawn forgot how good Y/N looked in dresses. And the one she was wearing highlighted every part of her, but flowed in the wind so she looked effortlessly beautiful. It was always like that with her. She never really had to try and Shawn would find her mesmerising.

And Y/N couldn’t really stop the pinkening of her cheeks. They laughed, teased each other slightly (friendly banter you know, nothing more), occasionally bumped shoulders.

Now, Adam the gym teacher had gone to chat with the other adults and Y/N stood beside Shawn, cooking her half of the grill.

“You know I hate the stereotype that only men can barbecue. Like, do you know what bomb-ass chefs women are?” Y/N said, flipping nimbly the corn on the cob to leave pretty, checkered black but not burnt sear marks.

“So are we not going to address that lonely sausage on the ground you dropped?” Shawn rose his eyebrow at her, clicking his tongs.

“I was distracted! Too busy fake-laughing at your terrible dad joke.”

“Suure. That laugh was genuine.”

Y/N eyed the drinks table, which did not go unnoticed by Shawn.

“Wondering if there’s some spiked punch over there for the parents and teachers?”

“Ooh, you read my mind, Mendes.”

“See you’re still a booze fanatic.”

“Hey, alcohol is a mom’s best friend. In moderation of course.”

As if on cue, Rose and Thomas came up to them with their ketchup smeared paper plates.

Y/N looked at the two children. Shawn watched her expression, one of pure adoration. He remembered once being on the receiving end of that look.

“What’s up guys?” Y/N chirped.

“Can we have dessert?” Rose beamed.

“Did you have a bit of veggies?” Y/N raised her eyebrows.

Rose looked up at the sky, shuffling her feet.

“Yes.” Thomas said.

“Gimme your plates, both of you, ya naughty kids.” Y/N teased, putting a vegetable skewer on each of their plates.

To Shawn’s surprise, Thomas ate it along with Rose. Normally, he had to hide it in dishes like smoothies or blend it into homemade pasta dough, so that his son would get his daily dose of vegetables.

Then, the two ran off to help themselves to sweets at another table.

“Well, I think all the kids have eaten. We can probably start now.” Shawn said, waving at the parents.

“Mhmm, I’ve been eyeing everything since the start of this thing.” Y/N said, helping herself to a hotdog and corn. “Ketchup?” She said, holding up the bottle.

“Oh yeah, thank you.” Shawn said, holding his plate to her so she can apply ketchup on his burger.

Y/N slipped the lid open, a bit of the condiment slipping onto her finger, then added a nice layer of it onto Shawn’s food. Closing the lid with her middle unstained finger, she set it down and sucked her index clean.

Shawn felt warm once again, vague memories of what her mouth can do crossing his mind.

They loaded their plates and went to take a seat at a picnic table where sat the principal, the secretary Amanda and a couple other parents.

They sat beside each other, chatting casually with the others. Their elbows touched lightly every so often, whether it was when they were using their knives and forks, or when Y/N would move her arm to tuck her hair behind her ear, or when they both rested their elbows on the table to listen to the conversation and Y/N’s right would coincidentally touch Shawn’s left.

“Ooh, I completely forgot about the drinks table. Want anything?” Y/N said gently, getting up.

“Yes please, thanks!” Shawn watched her walk away.

He was about to half-shout to her that he wanted a margarita, but seeing her pick up the jug with limes, he trusted that she knew his favourite summer drink.

“So, Shawn I never got that phone call back from you.” Amanda leaned closer to him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! When are you free, we can go to dinner.” Damn Shawn and his polite Canadian self. But once again, he didn’t know why he was closing himself off to her. She was perfectly okay, nice, pretty.

“I’m free tomorrow night.” She said.

“Cool, I’ll pick you up at 8.” Shawn smiled, his jaw slightly uncomfortable at the not-so-genuine smile he gave. He told himself he was being stupid though, and that whatever tiny, miniscule feeling he had with Y/N was just surprise of having found each other again.

Y/N came back, setting a cup beside his plate.

“Welcome.”

“Thanks.” Shawn chuckled, clinking his cup to hers in cheers before they both downed the contents.

“So, Y/N. It’s so nice seeing you here, you’re like never around school.” Amanda said.

“Oh well, I have a lot of patients, but I try my best.” Y/N answered politely.

“What is you do again?” Amanda said, voice bright.

“I’m an optometrist.” Y/N responded. “And you?”

“I really like your dress, seems expensive.” Amanda complimented, disregarding Y/N’s question back to her.

Y/N laughed. “No no, I got this at Walmart actually. It was on sale, they actually have cool stuff.” She answered.

Amanda didn’t completely hide her distaste. Shawn breathed out, looking around for a way to end this weird one-way passive-aggressive exchange. Lucky for him, and Y/N, Rose came up to her mom, hugging her.

Y/N gladly pulled her up on her lap, and wrapped her arms around her little middle.

“Hi Rosie.” She said, bouncing her slightly on her thigh.

“Rose here, is a model student.” The principal turned around from his conversation once he spotted her.

Y/N looked positively gleeful.

“Ooh, are you Rosie?” She turned her head to look down at her daughter, kissing her temple. Shawn’s heart felt warm, his brain making an “aww” feeling.

“Maybe.” Rose giggled.

Y/N held onto one of her little hands, as the other one reached around her mother’s plate for any food.

“Uh uh uh no, you cannot drink this.” Y/N said, pulling Rose’s arm back.

“Why?” Rose pouted.

“Because I don’t think you will like it.” Y/N laughed.

“But-but how will I know if I never try?”

Y/N looked at her daughter.

“Okay, stick your tongue in, see if you like taste for yourself.”

Rose stuck the tip of her tongue in the liquid, and immediately pulled back, frowning.

“Ew!” She said, making the whole table laugh.

“Told ya.” Y/N said, squeezing her daughter’s side.

“I would personally never feed my kid alcohol.” Amanda whispered to Shawn, and his laughter died down. He glanced sideways at Y/N who thankfully did not hear because she was too enamored with her child on her lap.

“Well, she had like a quarter of a lick, it won’t do anything.” Shawn pointed out.

Four drinks later for Y/N, and one for Shawn; they found themselves in a heated soccer match against their two children. Y/N had kicked off her sandals and was running barefoot, her dress flowing behind her. Thomas had the ball and was blocking her, who was making exaggerated arm movements to make him laugh.

Shawn was covering Rose, who was desperately trying to get to her teammate.

“Pass it!” Rose cried. “Thomas, we can lose to my mom! She’s the worst at soccer.”

Shawn laughed and looked at her, and she took this opportunity to escape and go join Thomas.

“Shit.” Shawn whispered to himself. He jogged up to what seemed like a leg wrestling match, with Rose and Thomas desperately hogging the ball and Y/N wiggling her leg in between them to try and take it away while unable to contain her laughter.

“Shawn come help me!” Y/N said through tears of laughter. If it hadn’t been for the drinks, she still would be in this state. She was a child at heart and had fun in anything.

Thomas had gotten a hold on the ball and began running toward Y/N and Shawn’s empty net. Rose was tugging on the back of her mom’s dress and seized Shawn. The three tumbled forward, knocking Thomas too in the process; all wheezing of laughter. Y/N rolled off Shawn giggling, Thomas picking himself up and dusting off the front of his shirt.

Shawn gave Y/N a hand up and admired her flushed skin.

Thomas stifled a yawn.

“I think it’s time to go home, huh buddy?” Shawn said, giving his son a piggy back ride.

“It’s probably Rose’s bedtime too.” Y/N said, taking Rose’s reaching hand.

“Hey, are you sure you can drive?” Shawn looked over at her.

“Yes..” Y/N giggled.

“You lightweight.” Shawn poked at her.

“Am not! But I can do with a lift.”

This did not go unnoticed by Rose.

“Can we have a sleepover?!” She asked.

“Please?” Thomas pleaded.

“I don’t want to be a bother, Shawn-“

“It’ll be my absolute pleasure. I have an extra bedroom and I think I still have a pair of Rose’s pyjamas in the laundry basket from the last time they hung out I think.”

“Okay then! You sure though, that we won’t be any trouble?” Y/N’s voice turned serious.

“I promise Y/N, you would never be a bother.” Shawn looked into her eyes.

Suddenly the cooling night air turned hot again.

Thomas and Rose were both in his bedroom on the floor in sleeping bags, and were playing a board game. Y/N and Shawn didn’t mind too much because they knew they would probably fall asleep very soon anyway so they let them stay up a little longer.

Y/N had changed into one of Shawn’s sweatpants and t-shirts and was cozied up on the couch with blankets. The pants were a bit loose on her, but she tightened the waist the best she could and the t-shirt looked unbelievingly good on her.

Shawn handed her a mug of tea and joined her on the sofa.

They flicked through old photo albums and reminisced.

“What really happened to us?” Y/N asked him, head resting on the back of the couch.

“Honestly, now that I think of it, I don’t even remember. We just got so busy.”

“Well, I’m happy we bumped into each other again. You were one of the people I got along with the best.” Y/N smiled.

Ten minutes later, sat Shawn with Y/N asleep on the other end of the couch, wishing his night tomorrow could be just another cozy one with Y/N with full of meaningful yet fun conversation and tea, instead of a dinner with Amanda.

Part 2

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes x reader #dad!shawn #teacher!shawn

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