#but the choices for inquisition... yeah those worry me a bit
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lafaiette · 9 months ago
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going from the detailed keep to just three decisions is such a drastic change, not to mention it says nothing about dao or da2? are those games just gonna have one default worldstate? i wonder how's that gonna work with varric literally being in the game is he just never gonna mention hawke?
Yes, I admit it bothers me, too - I hope it really was an early build used to avoid spoilers, and that more options will be available in the full game, but I doubt we will see choices from DA:O and DA2.
Iirc Epler said the focus will be on northern Thedas, and consequently choices from the two earlier games won't be addressed. I can understand this tbh - after all, I doubt Tevinter, Rivain, or the Veil Jumpers in Arlathan would discuss or even care about the ruler of far, rustic Ferelden.
Divine Victoria can simply be mentioned with her title, and since mages and magic are seen in a different way in northern Thedas compared to the south, it makes sense for them not to mention the fate of the Circles in Ferelden and Orlais. And considering there are two crazy elven "gods" wreaking havoc and corrupting the land, I doubt Rook, Antaam-occupied Antiva, and Weisshaupt have the time to pay attention to these "distant" things (even though I WAS expecting one of the available choices to be about the Wardens, since the Inquisitor can choose to exile them to Weisshaupt).
Speaking of Varric and Hawke, yeah, I have no idea how that will be addressed. Twelve years have passed since someone was left in the Fade, and it's pretty much confirmed that this person is dead and won't come back at this point, despite all the fans' funny pictures of Hawke coming out of a Fade rift we saw over the years. So, if Hawke was left in the Fade, Varric would have no reason to mention them, since they are long dead and there are much more "important" things to focus on at the moment.
If they're alive... we know that Hawke goes to Weisshaupt after the events of Inquisition, but again, many years have passed since then, so they probably went there to check, saw that things were weirdly quiet, and went back home, their mission concluded. No way they remained in the Anderfels for more than ten years - so even in this case, Varric would have little reason to mention them.
No matter how the devs try to spin this, it can't denied that the events of Veilguard wouldn't exist without Inquisition's. It's basically a direct sequel, even though Bioware is clearly doing their damnest to try and lure in new players unfamiliar with the series, doing everything they can not to scare them off with too many unfamiliar references and characters.
It stands to reason that the events of Inquisition are those that should majorly affect Veilguard's, but it's really odd how simply one (!) choice from the main game and two from its Trespasser DLC are offered.
The biggest concern is the Well of Sorrows - both Morrigan and the Inquisitor are in the game, so how is the game going to address that event? Will it be completely ignored, like a soft-reboot? Will they force Morrigan to be the canon choice no matter our world state?
Or maybe the Inquisitor won't have a very big role (and there's the problem of their personality, too, which wasn't a "fixed" one like Hawke's) or maybe there's something about the Inquisitor's character creator Bioware is hiding/didn't share on purpose to surprise the fans.
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bambinotattoo · 3 months ago
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Erica’s Diaper Plan
Chapter 18
((Yesterday at school after Erica was taken home))
((“Omg, Sara B, so…what the hell just happened?” Jewel said inquisitively
“Um, so…yea…I don’t really know, Erica has been really nervous about high school and has had some anxiety lately… that was probably it”
“ anxiety? OK, didn’t have anything to do with the fact that it looked like she wet her pants? And potentially was wearing a diaper? I mean, come on…you’re her best friend, plus we already know she wears diapers at night for bed wedding… so is this like a daily thing now?”
Sara Beth didn’t know what to say, on one hand she could keep her friend secret or on the other tell the girls what they really saw get it out of the way, and try to help Erica make the best of it…
NEither of those options sounded very good to Sara Beth…
“ well I don’t know anything about her wearing daytime diapers, I mean, high school and diapers really?!? lol”
Sara Beth tried to get the attention on humor and off the fact that her best friend just let her diaper leaked and cried like a baby getting out of her car seat in front of their friends…
“HMmm, wasn’t she in a car seat? And I’m pretty sure I saw a bulge in her pants. Just saying”
“ well if that was the case, are you guys gonna be the type of friends that make fun of her and make her feel bad for it? Or spread the rumor around to make it even worse? I mean come on we’re supposed to be her friends… right?”
The two girls just nodded with embarrassment, Sara Beth put them in their place and they realize they were being a little bit harsh. In the meantime, Sara Beth was sweating bullets trying to keep her friends secret, at the same time knowing her friend wants to be humiliated… kind of a catch 22
“ I wouldn’t worry about it guys, I think it was just a stomach bug. She’s going to the doctor this week anyway so… I think we should just ignore what we saw today, and embrace her tomorrow and help her feel better!”
The girls were all in agreement, and even made a “get well soon” card that Sara Beth was to take home and gift to her. After a while, the girls went to their classes and the day went like normal.
(Monday late afternoon)
Later in the day on Monday when Sara Beth got home, she immediately called Erica to make sure she was OK.
“ hey dude, are you feeling any better?”
“ I mean, yeah, but I feel pretty stupid”
“lol, yeah, I get that… I guess she got all the humiliation you could handle today.!!”
“ Yeah I guess laid in the bed I made”
“ so the girls were asking me about what happened”
“ I bet, what did you tell them?”
“ that we’re supposed to support our friend, and that you’ve been a little sick lately… they asked about the car seat, the wet pants, the pacifier, and the diaper bulge…”
“Oh man… now I feel worse”
“ don’t, everybody’s on board with trying to understand and make you feel better… I had a really stern talking with them… it’s all good!”
“ really?!?? How did you pull that off?”
“ cause I’m good and I love you! I’m gonna get something to eat and then I’m coming over OK?”
“Ok!!!”
That conversation made Erica feel 10 times better, she was still apprehensive about what happened today… but knew she had no choice but to try again tomorrow. At least she knows no one’s gonna be making fun of her for being diapered yet, and she knows she’s gonna need to get ready for that… in order to try to find the courage she went to her ABDL message boards and read stories, comments, etc., about public humiliation, and all of that.
While reading that isn’t going to necessarily make her feel better in those moments, she’s hoping she can look back on them and times where she’s feeling overwhelmed. She also decided to message Jasmine again, and see what she thinks about desensitizing her to some public humiliation
It was around 4:30, and Erica in her room on her computer heard the kitchen door open and close, and Sara Beth’s cheerful voice greeted by her mother
“ hey Karen, how’s the rest of your day been?”
“ it’s been OK Sara Beth… was your first day of school good? lol”
“ yeah it was OK, it’s school… I have all the things we did today and some worksheets Miss Erica, wanted to get them to her early”
“ that’s so nice of you Sara Beth. I’m so thankful she has someone in her life like you. Speaking of which, how the conversation with the girls go after what happened this morning?” I’ve been thinking the worst, but hoping for the best.”
“ well you’ll be happy to know and I’ve already told Erica of this, that I chipped up and made sure they understood that this wasn’t something to make fun of, but something to understand and to be supportive about, so I’m hoping at least least on their end that things are back to normal.”
“ that’s so great Sara Beth, you’re such a good friend! Hey, so I was gonna go run and get some things for dinner, would you mind watching Erica for a little bit?”
“ of course not, when’s the last time she was changed?”
“ it’s been a few hours, and knowing her, she’s probably soaked lol”
“ got it, I’ll get her a little booty cleaned up in a fresh diaper!!”
Karen, thanks Sara Beth for helping out with Erica… in reality, Karen was going to meet Jasmine for a drink and to try to destress some of what happened today.
As Karen grabbed her purse, gave Sara Beth a hug and walked out the garage… Sarah began to walk towards Erica’s nursery and greet her friend.
“ hey best babysitter in the world!”
“ hey lol, speaking of which stand up for me… your mom said that she hadn’t changed it in a few hours so everyone’s assuming you’re a wet girl”
“ yes ma’am”
Erica stood up, put her pacifier in her mouth and stood in front of Sara Beth so she could have her diaper checked…
“ that’s what I thought, you are soaked young lady… what do you say we get that nasty diaper off you and then do a nice clean one what do you think sweet girl?”
“Lmfao, I can’t handle all the baby talks from you… it’s weird…lol”
“ oh my little diaper girl, feeling shy? That’s OK, sweet thing, let me help you hop on the changing table and let’s get you all cleaned up!”
Erica blushed, turned red and took her friend’s hand to have her help her on her changing table. Now laying down Sara Beth directed her to raise her legs so that she could get her pants off of her. Pants off, now Sara Beth unsnapped Erica’s onesie, exposing her very wet diaper!
“ PU, I smell PP…tickle tickle”
Erica couldn’t help but giggle and wet, her diaper a little more with the tickling, Sara Beth noticed put her hand on Erica‘s already wet diaper crotch and felt the warmth grow into its max…
“ well well well, somebody’s diapers getting warm… are you like doing that on purpose or are you doing that without control?”
A very shy and red faced Erica looked at her friend and said “um, I’m not really sure when I’m gonna pee right now, it just comes out. Actually it just comes out all the time it like trickles…”
“ oh, well I guess my little diaper baby really needs diapers, huh?”
“ yes”
Sara Beth got finished joking and making her friend feel better, and untaped the her friend is wearing, and folded down the front to expose a princess parts, grab the wipes and began cleaning her friend up! While it was still weird for Sara Beth to be cleaning Erica’s most private parts, Erica did make it a little easier by just staring at the ceiling and letting it happen…
“ OK I’ll clean little girl… let’s put a pink princess diaper on you. What do you think?”
Erica in a day, staring at the glow in the dark stars on her ceiling, viciously, sucking her pacifier, nodded to her friend and pink princess it was! Sara Beth removed the soggy diaper from under Erica’s butt, and gently slid the new one underneath her. A heavy application of diaper ointment, baby powder new diaper was folded up, and all the tape snuggly put in place!
“ there we go, sweet girl nice clean diaper, I bet that feels better, huh?”
Sara Beth had never been this mothering to Erica, Erica figured it was because of how the day started… and Sara Beth was figuring this is how she’s supposed to talk to her friend… either way, it made Erica a very, very little
“ so I brought home some stuff from school, first day nothing really happened… so tomorrow you’ll be caught up either way. You are coming tomorrow, right?”
“ yes, mom made sure to tell me that I was coming… not sure I want, but again… this diaper bed, and now I must lay in it”
“ hopefully you don’t leak!!”
The two girls exchanged a laugh, which was the first real laugh. Erica had had since this morning. Sara Beth helped her off the changing table, and now in just a diaper, Erica gave her friend a big hug.
“TAnk yew, Sawwa, my diappeee feels super doooer”
“ OMG that baby talk is absolutely adorable, goodness me!”
Sara Beth playfully smacked Erica on the diaper booty, and the two of them sat down and started looking at what she had brought from school. While sitting at Erica’s desk, Sara Beth noticed what Erica was reading. The topics of diaper humiliation, public, humiliation, etc were up for anyone to see. This got Sara Beth curious and she decided to openly ask some questions.
“ do you mind if I read some of those? Or like you can send me the ones that you like the best or that make the most sense.?!? That way I’m not reading it in front of you”
“ yeah OK I can send you a few things, promise not to make fun of me?”
“ really, I’m not promising that… you should know better. I just wanna know what I can do to help!”
Sara Beth was very genuinely offering to throw herself further into Erica’s new diaper reality… at first, she didn’t think she was going to, but all of a sudden she almost feels obligated. And not obligated in a bad way, obligated I wanna make sure her friend is OK way
The two spent the rest of the afternoon talking about school, what happened this morning, and how tomorrow is a new day…
After an hour or so, Sara Beth began to smell, the noticeable smell of a dirty diaper…
“ Erica, did you poop your pants?”
“ yeah, I’m sorry”
“ stop that, climb on the changing table… let’s get that messy diaper off of you…”
Quite apprehensively, Erica stared at her friend, and asked “ are you sure?, I’m sure my mom will be home soon…”
“ you’re silly, get on the changing table!”
This is something Erica had not anticipated, having her poopy diaper changed by her best friend… all Erica could do was do what she was told climb the changing table and prepare for a very humiliating diaper change…
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gavinette · 7 months ago
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Okay, maybe I'm going to be a bit critical here but—
I think I'm going to ignore everything they said in AMA –especially JE– and add from my own understanding and knowledge about Solas and other characters lol
The game is simple enough to make this easy 🤷🏻‍♀️
I mean, it's perfectly fine if someone doesn't like Solas, but to take choices or to try and alienate players to feel like they do it's a bit... Well. A bit too much. I can understand from where those comments about Solas' regrets came from tho
I won't say anything about what he said about Davrin because that was blatant racism and yeah, I'm not happy about it at all when Davrin turned out to be one of my favourite companions in DATV.
Solas? It seems like he doesn't care, but you have to fight Regret of Felassan; he doesn't care, but he helps you rescue Dalish people and call them his people; he doesn't care, but he says explicitly he can't think any way to help the elves as the world is now – when the world wants them submitted. And more, but he doesn't care.
He fights a rebellion. He turns against Mythal and all the Evanuris. He worries so much about spirits. He approves of you helping people in Inquisition – it's so easy to make him like you if you help people in the Hinterlands. So easy.
Yeah, guilt, pride, and regret. But he is so much more than that. He is driven by more than that.
So yes, I'll think I may do my own cooking with what they gave me: fast food and the scrumptious cheesecake with berries on top 😔
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hustlemeanokay · 8 months ago
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After playing Veilguard for a few days (no spoilers)
So, I do this thing with RP games. I make my 1st character however I want, do whatever I want, with zero thought as to the consequences as far as disapproval/approval goes. Just wing it. Then, as I go, I'll make characters that are more tailored, more specific play styles etc.
I currently have two Rooks and am making a third. No, I'm not kidding. I do/did the same thing with BG3. I simultaneously play multiple characters. I'll play one character for a few days and then swap over to another for a few days and back and forth and around and around until I finish them up and then start on whole new ones. Just the way my brain works.
So, when I've said in the past that I have a lot of Wardens, a lot of Hawkes, a lot of Inquisitors... I meant it. And each one has their own in-depth story, relationships, histories and futures.
Right now - I have my 1st Rook - she's just winging it, completely. She doesn't have a clue. Purple options almost always. I went with a random generated name on her because I was like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Zea Laidir. Lords of Fortune elven mage. And I have to say - the fighting for mages is on point and awesome. The only thing I did that was kinda like "oops" was I made her crazy short LMAO. I didn't mean to make her quite so small but it is what it is and she's a little thing.
My second Rook - Grier Thorne. Grey Warden - dwarf - warrior. And somehow, he ended up looking like a cross between Erend from Horizon Zero Dawn and Soap from CoD. He's direct but a smartass when the need calls for it. And I can already tell he has the biggest crush on Lace (who is so incredibly huggable it isn't even funny). I'm usually a distance fighter in games so warriors always take some getting used to but I'm slowly getting there - luckily they can take a beating.
I will say that I do like how your faction choice actually does come up a lot and in real ways. Not just in passing comments. OH and - Lucanis' voice doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would which I'm so happy about because I was worried there for a bit.
But I am having so much fun with this game and I don't care what other people are saying, they're just being mean. They want Inquisition. They want DA2. They want Origins. They want all of that in a new game. They didn't actually want a new game. They can argue all they want but that's what it boils down to. If it wasn't those exact lines, those exact quests, those exact references, those exact places and look the same? They weren't going to be happy. There's no pleasing some people and that's just how it is. As the saying goes - haters gonna hate.
But for me? I'm loving it. The styling is different. The look is different. (And the heads are only big if you make them that way dipshits). But the voice acting is amazing, the story is engaging (if you aren't expecting it to be a regurgitation of the previous ones) and if you genuinely want to be engaged. If you're looking for a reason to be bored? You'll find it anywhere. I like that it's not rushed nor too slow, it gives you breaks and time to explore and pick up extra quests if you want but you don't have to. So yeah - I'm happy. (❁´◡`❁)
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justjessame · 1 year ago
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Light Through the Darkness: Chapter 41
Mystic Grille, February 2010
Abigail found herself enjoying her lunch far more than she had expected. Matt Donavan, the blonde waiter who'd sat her at the bar was genuinely nice. Instead of finding her confusion over the menu offerings or the spinning stool, he took it in stride.
"There are far too many choices," she mused. "Do you have anything simple? Salad greens with cold chicken, perhaps?" She was yearning for something familiar in this jarring new time.
"I think we can manage that." He answered with a smile. "Are you sure about the plain water? We have soda, tea?"
"Water's fine, thank you, Matt." She said, returning his smile.
As he walked to the kitchen to put in her order he saw Caroline come in, pointing to his section and the bar, she nodded and walked over to where Abigail was seated.
"Is this seat taken?" A pretty blonde with shoulder length hair asked.
"No," Abigail answered shyly.
The blonde gave her her full attention and announced, "You're new in town. Visiting, tourist, or relocation?" Her smile took the sting out of her overt curiosity.
Abigail studied the girl. Her inquisitiveness wasn't out of rudeness, she just liked to know the current state of her little town. Smart and sensible.
"Abigail Morgan," she said, holding out her hand. "Let's go with relocation."
The blonde's eyes lit up. ""Caroline Forbes, sheriff's daughter. Are you going to be staying in Morgan House?" As they shook hands Abigail felt herself drawn to this girl. She was as genuine as Matt.
"It is my house, so…" Abigail offered, allowing her lunch companion to wrap her mind around the news.
"I understand that, I suppose," the bubbly blonde replied, smile still in place. "It's just, doesn't it need work?"
Abigail focused on Caroline, the question about the house's condition wasn't what she planned to ask. Clearly this girl had other concerns about Abi's home.
"Undoubtedly," she answered. Curiosity peaked. "I'll be taking care of it, but first I have some other errands." She smiled as Matt returned with her food.
"Abigail is moving into Morgan House, Matt. Isn't that amazing?" Caroline was saying. Abigail could hear the leading tone and waited to see his reaction.
Discomfort, that was as plain as the blonde boy took in the news. What were they worried about? Clearly something to do with the house. Maybe they had seen someone go inside, could they know her benefactor?
As Abigail ate and allowed the young people control over the conversation, she wondered if she could find something in her mother's spellbook to make the truth come out. Her mind flashed to the letter, it's revelation about her family and what she truly was. She followed Caroline and Matt's conversation, interest peaked when she heard familiar names.
"Did you say you know a Bennett?" Abigail's fork remained poised with the final bite of her delicious salad waiting. Seeing her companions still, she smiled reassuringly. "My family has old journals in my home. I read the name and it must have stuck."
Still a bit uncomfortable, Matt and Caroline chose to believe her. "Bonnie," Caroline answered, smiling. "She's one of my best friends."
Abigail realized she was wasting time beating about the proverbial bush. All she really needed was to simply ask the appropriate questions. She was new in town, they had answers, all she needed was her natural talent to get to know those in her orbit.
"One of your best friends?" Abigail tried sounding merely interested in finding others close to her age. She popped the last bite of her lunch into her mouth and chewed.
Matt gave a rather uncomfortable chuckle. "Yeah, our friend group keeps growing."
Arching her eyebrow in curiosity, she asked, "Growing?" Swallowing her bite and taking a drink. "Like me, I hope?" She smiled at the two of them to show the truth of her words. They were nice kids.
"Some more welcome than others." Caroline muttered. Seeing a flash of hurt cross Abi's face, she rushed to clarify. "Not you, you seem nice. There's been others. Long story."
Abigail gave the other woman a sweet smile. "I have a bit of time left before I have to go around with my errands."
She listened carefully as Caroline unleashed a tirade against Damon Salvatore. He was duplicitous. He used people. On and on it went. Matt had hustled off to get Caroline's meal and to wait on his other tables. Shooting Abi sympathetic looks for her having to sit through his girlfriend's rant. A rant she'd unleashed on purpose.
"So this Damon?" Abigail hoped her voice didn't catch. "He's a bad addition to the town, but it sounds like you have others?"
Caroline had stopped speaking, taking a breath that allowed Abi to finally ask another question and hopefully get her away from Damon's vileness. A wrinkle formed in Caroline's forehead. "Yes, there are others." She smiled. "But the rest are more welcome. Damon's younger brother Stefan, he's dating my other best friend, Elena Gilbert."
Abigail nodded her encouragement. Caroline was a font of information. A little nudge and she'd unleash a wealth of her feelings and observations. "Stefan is the exact opposite of Damon." She looked almost dreamy. Dear lord, she wanted him. Poor Matt.
Abigail found Caroline's rant of Damon balm for her abused soul, but trying to rectify the Stefan her new friend was gushing about with the one who had presented her with his "courting gift" was beyond difficult. Even having seen him with Elena at her house, seemingly free of whatever demon had controlled him, she still wasn't entirely convinced.
"Stefan," her voice sounded calm thankfully. "Sounds great!" Jesus, the pep in her own voice terrified her. "Are there more than the Salvatores?"
Caroline was momentarily sidetracked by Matt bringing her ood. Giving him a peck of a kiss, she dug into her food with the same carefulness of Abi's upbringing. Chewing carefully, she answered after swallowing. "Sorry, starving." Abigail smiled in understanding. "Yeah, there've been others. Alaric Saltzman, our history teacher. He had to replace the one who passed away."
Abi tutted her condolences. "Animal attack." Caroline noticed Abi's widened eyes and took it for fear and shock, not for the realization that the resident vampires weren't under complete control. "Don't worry, they caught the mountain lion."
Compulsion, it was clear to Abigail. Caroline had been compelled. Possibly Matt as well. Curious. Tilting her head, Abigail tempted something she had never tried, but having read her mother's explanation for who and what they were, she decided to give it a go. Infusing her voice with as much power as she could, she asked the question she really wanted to have answered.
"Caroline, what made you so uncomfortable about my house?" Abigail's voice sounded the same, but she felt the power flowing through her words.
Caroline didn't take on the look of someone being compelled. Her eyes stayed clear and focused, and her voice didn't sound any different when she answered.
"Because I know that the football team breaks into Morgan House every year on Devil's Night." Abigail raised an eyebrow, even though she'd thought she heard Damon muttering about the state of her back servant's entrance, she hadn't thought about this type of violation. "They say that a real life sleeping beauty inside. She lays in the only room that looks made up. A friend of ours, Tyler Lockwood says he touched her. She's warm and breathing, but doesn't react. I was worried that you would have found her, or noticed the jimmied door."
Abigail shook her head. "So you were worried about some ghost story and the fact that your friends broke into my house." She considered the explanation and decided that it made sense. "Thank you for sharing this with me, Caroline. Not to worry, no ghosts and I don't care that rambunctious teenagers decided to use my house as a dare. It's a new day, after all." She smiled and Caroline returned it.
"It's so easy to talk to you, Abigail." She said, as Matt returned with Abi's check. "Put my number in your cell so we can keep in touch. And Matt's too."
"Actually, I lost my phone. It's one of my errands, but hunger called to me first." The blonde girl tutted and wrote two sets of numbers on a paper napkin. "When you get your replacement, put these in." Matt nodded his agreement and Abigail smiled. "We're your first friends in Mystic Falls, and I'd hate to lose touch."
Abigail kept her smile and took the check that Matt had placed in front of her. Seeing the price and having noticed the extra money people were leaving behind, she handed him a fifty dollar bill. He went toward the till, but Abi stopped him.
"Keep the rest, Matt." Abigail called, noticing his shocked reaction she realized she'd given him far more than he expected. "You've done such a wonderful job of feeding and welcoming me, I think you're more than worth it."
"It's more than double your check, Abigail." He said, clearly uncomfortable with the amount she was offering.
She sighed heavily. "Would paying for Caroline's meal and giving you the rest be more amenable, Matt?" His smile returned, clearly that worked. "Then cover Caroline's check as well. And thank you both, but I must be off."
Abi hopped down from her stool and left. She didn't notice that she was still being watched. The noise of the Grille making her want to get outside now that she was no longer distracted by her lunch companions. Outside in the fresh air and with far less noise to overwhelm her, she began walking down the street.
She kept her eye out for a storefront that looked like it offered a phone that looked like Damon's or a clothing store to expand her wardrobe. She passed a library and thought about stopping, but moved on. Later, she decided. A bright flashing storefront offered various phone options. Crossing the street, Abigail headed for the obnoxiously bright store. She opened the door and a young woman approached her.
After a cheerful greeting, the woman asked what Abi needed. Was she a current customer or was she interested in 'switching carriers'. Abigail went with honesty. She was a new customer entirely. She could tell that this excited the woman. Reading her was incredibly easy, she clearly wanted a sale so she could make more money.
The woman flitted about the store, showing phones and explaining features and other technological words that Abi had no concept of understanding. Finally, just to quiet the blathering, she picked one that looked the most like the phone she'd gotten to know with Damon.
Launching into another round of decisions, the woman inundated her with options for 'plans'. Abigail held up a hand and asked for the best plan, then allowed the woman to activate the phone, paying after what felt like an eternity, Abigail left the store.
The shop girl had given her a short tutorial on various options and applications. How to add contacts, like Caroline and Matt's, the camera features and something about 'facebook', 'twitter', and 'google'. Nodding so the woman would know she was listening, Abigail drifted. She'd learn the same way she'd learned Damon's, from use.
As she finally found herself outside, she walked the street further ready to finish her errands and head back to the house. Her major problem was the charging of her new phone. Her house didn't have electricity, so she'd have to make arrangements to begin updating the house. Clothes first, then library, she decided. Smiling at her new reality, she confidently walked along, knowing that she was in charge of her own destiny finally.
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siriusmydeer · 4 years ago
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stickers
james potter x genderneutral!reader
summary: honestly you just stick acne stickers on james’ face.
word count: 0.8k
warnings: mentions of injury, fluff
a/n: please send me ideas bc i wrote half of this at like 11pm and i cannot write my own ideas
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“What’re those on y’face?” James’ coarse baritone instantly struck through your dormitory as he carefully examined your features. He lingered at your doorway with a raised brow for a moment after plopping his viridescent satchel upon your mahogany desk scattered in ivory parchment and onyx feathery quills for later use. His azure optics began narrowing at the array of stars that flourished in miscellaneous tints upon the apples of your cheek and the inflamed planes of your forehead.
You gently prodded at your cheeks in dire confusion for a few moments before you had realized he was speaking about the stickers that clung to your skin, “Oh, they’re my pimple stickers.” You spoke eruditely with the dismissal of your hand as he undoubtedly continued pestering you.
“I’m sorry— your what?” He inquired with an underlying confused tone, sitting himself next to your figure that was stomach down on the quilt that his mother had gifted you that previous Christmas as a further welcoming to the Potter’s Household.
“There for my acne.”
“But your face looks beautiful the way it is.”
“No James,” You laughed at his dense behaviours and undoubtedly continued, “They take all the toxins ‘nd crap out of my skin and y’just peel them off in the morning, simple.” Your ample shoulders pulled upwards into a nonchalant shrug whilst the pearly quill you had carefully held previously was now dancing between your digits.
“Simple?”
“Yeah, I’ll put some on you if you’d like? Show you how they work and stuff” You inquired at his vague murmur, a diligent flash of excessive worry colliding with his cerulean optics for a moment before he nodded knitted brow, still unsure of his choice.
“Go shower first, you stink.” He proceeded to chuckle at your accusation, his Post-Quidditch practice musk wasn’t one for fragile senses; proceeding to gather his clothes from one of your drawers he steadily stepped himself into the blistering water, scrubbing himself clean from the considerable number of times he skidded off his broom into the mud in error of his broom practice.
Once he had finally dragged himself from the steaming downpour, James had finally taken a look at himself in the polished mirror; unshaven pricks of bristly hair tickling at his chin, absentminded red spots placed lazily across his forehead, a minor crease between his brows and a few fine lines carved into his forehead. With evident hesitation he had picked up his spectacles and looked closer for a moment before murmuring; “Merlin, I’m ageing.”
With a considerable grip, he had cautiously opened the door and saw how your calves had now curled under your bottom arranging out a bunch of suspicious items around your bed, looking up you saw the boy’s brunet tendrils clinging to his forehead till he horizontally shook his head to clear his viewpoint.
“Y/n, I’m ageing. It’s terrible, I need to be fixed.” James’ tone was much more dragged out than usual, there was a thick pull at his vocal cords as he articulated his dramatic inquisition laying himself face-first into your mattress.
“Darling, ‘m afraid that’s how life works.” You chuckled at his inquisition. The crescent moons of your fingernails idly scratched his nape for a few minutes before his relaxed features began to turn to the side in your viewpoint.
“Feels nice.” He sighed contentedly as your fingers tickled at the dark tresses. Your other hand descended to the small sheet of stars hastily placed on your disordered bed, and with considerable difficulty due to the fact you could merely use one hand, you effectively plastered one onto his forehead. His marked brows knitted together and the obscure feeling on his skin, then another one placed closer, and another, another and another.
After placing a kiss to the indentations between his brows, you had propped your head in your palm scoring your irises over his peaceful features; the diameter of his sable lashes that tickled at his rosy cheek, the lethargic respire of his posterior and the gradual curvature of his lips as he spoke.
“Done now?” He sluggishly cracked open his lids, currently a slight blear as an exhausted glaze coated over his cerulean irises; naturally seeing you nod once before lying next to the boy, an exhausted arm curl brought you proximate to the boy. He strategically placed a sloppy kiss to your jugular before shuffling his face into the crevice of your neck.
“Am I all pretty now?”
“You’re always pretty, but your wet hair is on my neck.”
“It’ll dry soon,” he murmured in faux-sympathy, with a chortle of your own naturally following at the boys’ antics.
“You tired, Jamie?” He proceeded to nod in the bend of your shoulder, shuffling an odd bit to get comfortable. As your nails travelled back to his nape, scratching absentmindedly you soon heard the soft inhale of your boyfriend as he peacefully dreamt about the quidditch cup and sneaking to Hogsmeade with his mates. “Night M’love.” You whispered, kissing the boy’s forehead.
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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years ago
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Rare Mornings
A/N: I just got to Chapter 6 and it’s all fucking sad and I just need my cowboy to be happy so this takes place at Clemens Point but there’s no spoilers. <<< This was a note I left when I first made this but I have since passed Chapter 6 and I am sad. This doesn’t have a first part and is a stand alone (for now at least) If you saw my previous post about accidentally making a part 2 to something that doesn’t even have a part 1, this is it. Sorry if anything is confusing
Warnings: none, pure fluff
Summary: Quiet mornings with Arthur are rare, but they’re something you enjoy when you can.
***
Thunder rumbled quietly in the clouds above camp. Rain tapped against the canvas of the tent, the gentle noise creating a relaxing ambiance. 
It was early in the morning. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. Arthur would usually be up by now, getting ready for the day. But he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed just yet. You were too peaceful of a sight to leave. 
The cot you were sharing was small, but you both had learned to make it work. While Arthur was on his back with one hand behind his head and his other arm wrapped securely around you, you were on your side tucked into him. Your head rested on his shoulder and one of your legs was thrown up over his hips. 
Arthur kept his eyes on you, watching the way you tried to fight falling back asleep. You woke up some time ago after nearly rolling off of the cot and you were doing your damnedest not to fall asleep again. You wanted to spend as much time with Arthur as you could. 
But it seemed like you were losing your battle with sleep. Your eyelids grew heavy and your head began to sink forward on his shoulder. Then you jolted suddenly, sucking in a sharp breath and rubbing your eyes. 
Arthur chuckled softly. 
“Just go back to sleep, pumpkin.”
“No.” You insisted. “This is one of the few times me and you get to spend time alone without everyone and their brother botherin’ us. M’not sleepin’ for shit.”
He kissed your forehead, his hand at the small of your back tracing circles on the material of your chemise. 
“I’m thinkin’ I need to go take a trip to one of those fancy boutiques they got in Saint Denis.” You repositioned your head on his shoulder so you could get a better look at him. 
“Yeah? What’re you gonna get at one of them places?” He raised his brows inquisitively. You propped yourself up on one elbow, pulling the sleeve to your chemise up into place on your shoulder. 
“Molly says they’ve got really nice clothes there. Says maybe even somethin’ you might like.” You looked down at his chest. Your eyes found a scar that cut across his sternum. You traced the jagged, pale line with your index finger. 
“Oh, I doubt one of them boutiques would have somethin’ I’d like.”
“Not for you, silly.” You giggled softly, swatting at his chest. He caught your hand and brought your fingers down to his lips where he could press kisses into the pads of your fingers. “For me to wear for you.”
A sly grin came to his lips. 
“Shit, pumpkin.” He kissed your palm and then placed your hand on his chest. “I wouldn’t want ya wearin’ anythin’ like that around camp. If anyone else saw ya in that…. I’d get in a whole hell of a lot of trouble.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’d ever wear anything like that around here.” You shook your head. “I already don’t like how Micah looks at me.”
“I’m just waitin’ for the right time to start swingin.” Arthur muttered, shaking his head. “Don’t you worry.”
“Deserves a lot more if you ask me.” You sighed. “But I don’t want to think about him.”
“I don’t either. Ugly bastard makes me wanna puke.” Arthur scrunched his nose up. 
There were a few moments where neither of you said anything. You heard a little bit of movement outside of the tent. 
“I wish we could have more time to ourselves.” You moved around on the cot so that you could sit on his lower stomach. “There ain’t even walls here. We can’t talk without worryin’ bout someone hearin’ us unless we talk early like this.”
“I know.” He sighed softly, bringing his hands from the outsides of your thighs to your knees where the hem of your chemise was bunched up. He played with the lacy hem for a few minutes. “Maybe after all this here settles…. Maybe we can take a trip somewhere. Just the two of us. We’ll find somewhere nice to stay for a couple days, somewhere I can spoil you.”
His fingers pushed the hem of your chemise up a few inches, exposing your thighs to the cool morning air. 
“I heard…. I heard that there’s this place in Saint Denis. It’s a real nice place.” Arthur’s eyes focused on the locket that rested on your chest. “A little cute hotel. Couples go there when they wanna get away.”
“Ohh.” You smiled, leaning down to kiss the scar on his chin. “You aren’t just wanting to take me away for a couple days. This is a week long thing you’re wantin’ to do, Mr. Morgan.”
His eyes followed you as you sat back, baby blues focused on you as if you were the brightest star in the night sky. 
“I was thinkin…. Maybe for our honeymoon.” His voice was low. 
The smile fell from your mouth as your lips parted in realization. He wanted to do something special with you, he wanted to treat you to a weekend alone together and away from the hectic life of the gang. But more importantly, he wanted to marry you. 
Mistaking your silence for a negative reaction, Arthur shook his head and brought his hand up to rub his face. 
“We don’t- We don’t gotta do something like that. It’s just a stupid, silly idea.”
“Arthur, it’s not stupid.” You murmured, pulling his hand from his face. “And it’s not silly. I-I thought…. I just didn’t think you were serious when you told me that.” 
Arthur furrowed his brows as he looked at you. 
“Lemme sit up a second, pumpkin.” 
You shifted your weight to your knees, giving him the opportunity to slip his hips out from underneath you. He sat up, leaning against the chest that rested behind the cot. You sat just above his knees, messing nervously with your hands. 
“You didn’t think I was serious when I said I wanted to marry you?”
You looked down at your hand. Your eyes focused on your left ring finger. There was no ring there, therefore it was hard for you to wrap your head around the situation. It didn’t feel real. It felt like a dream. 
“Pumpkin, you know the only ring I got on me right now…. It’s the one from Mary.” Arthur’s voice was low as he spoke to you.
When you didn’t say anything, he hooked his index under your chin and tilted your head up so that you had no choice other than to look at him. 
“I ain’t proposin’ to you with that ring. The second I get the money and find the right one for you—,”
“Arthur, you know I don’t care about a silly little ring.” You cut him off, shaking your head softly. “I just…. I don’t know. There’s so much goin’ on right now. With-With Dutch and his plans for getting us somewhere where we won’t have to run from Pinkertons and O’Driscolls and Cornwall’s men…. Is now the right time for that?” 
Arthur watched you for a few silent moments. Then he let out a little breath and rubbed his scruffy chin. He took your hands in his. 
“The way I look at it, we ain’t gettin’ any younger. Those problems, they’ll always be there. We can wait if that’s what you wanna do, pumpkin. We can wait until it’s all over, until we get to Tahiti or Australia or wherever the hell Dutch is taking us. As long as I got you, I’m the luckiest man there is.”
You smiled, eyes leaving his to look down at where your hands met. 
“You’re such a sweetheart, Arthur Morgan.” You brushed your thumb across his knuckles. 
“Nah. I just know how to sweet talk you.” He leaned forward to kiss you softly. “So? What is it you wanna do?” 
“I wanna marry you.” You didn’t hesitate to answer. “What do you want?”
“I want that week away from these bastards here.”
He chuckled. 
“Arthur!”
“I’m kiddin’ you.” He leaned in to kiss your lips. “I wanna marry you too, pumpkin. More than you know. I think you’d make a perfect Mrs. Morgan.”
“Hmm. The best?” You began to climb out of his lap.
“Of course. Wouldn’t want any other.” His eyes followed you as you slipped on a pair of boots. “Where are you going?”
“To get us coffee.”
“You’ll be back, won’t you?”
“Of course. Haven’t gotten my ring yet.” 
The playful grin on your lips made his heart soar.
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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago
Text
Love Cuts Deep
Chapter 4- You Cannot Cage A Wolf
Bucky Barnes x (f)reader Series Rewrite (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)
Summary: Fuck the police and Ironman for that matter, now how the hell are you and Bucky going to manage getting out of this mess?
Warning: violence no duh, bucky going through it, bit o angst, things getting hectic
Masterlist
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To say you were pissed would be the understatement of the century, again, you were locked in a cage of steel and glass. Surrounded by enemies who’d rather see you dead, but maybe you deserved it. 
Maybe.
The Romanian combat police had locked you and Bucky into separate concealed glass confinements before loading the two of you into one long metal truck. Purposely facing the tiny prisons face to face with one another so that you would have full access to witnessing the discomfort and irritation on each other’s faces while armed officers sat to either side.
Well you’re not sure if it was exactly intentional, but still, at least you could make sure Bucky was okay and him you.
Your hands and legs are guarded by thick metal as your shoulders and upper arms keep firmly held by a small cage of steel; your body forced to sit for hours on end as the security trucks drive you both all the way to Berlin, Germany. A fucking 18 hour field trip by vehicle, at least you got some pee breaks.
Staring angrily at Bucky’s hand, you wish nothing more then to break out of here and fucking gut the assholes responsible for your unlawful imprisonments, Bucky did absolutely nothing to T’Challa and why the hell would they think you’re involved with his fathers death? It doesn’t make any sense. Not at all.
Why would anyone want the two of you for that matter?
Suddenly the truck jostles and stirs before stopping completely as you start to feel the shift of the vehicle reversing into something, your eyes immediately look up to find Bucky who’s already focused on you. His eyes are sad and full of pain for how they’ve treated you like an animal, caged you like a wild cat, more so then what they’ve done to himself. He never wanted you to deal with any shit like this again, not after the traumatic history Hydra had befallen on you for so many years. You don’t deserve this.
Returning a small smile, you give him a playful wink of reassurance before your glass and metal prison is rolled backwards and away from Bucky. Your fists clench in vexation and enmity for the current shit situation you happen to be sucked into, you feel like a beast at a goddamn freak show. Soon you’re rolled into a yawning chasmal underground parking garage of sorts, as flashing emergency lights from police cruisers blink annoyingly from your left while their riders park. 
This must be some government building here in Berlin, you think, eyes wandering around at the secured cavernous glass and metal interior. Sliding clear doors make the entrance way to your far left wall, while further into the spacious room is a large wall of cement, more doors in various areas and a large staircase ascending into a giant balcony onto the next floor up.
Bucky’s cell is placed next to yours by another forklift as he glances at Steve drearily, while you throw nothing but an irritated scowl at the back of Steve just as Sam and T’Challa exit the black security van. Guards dressed in black attire close by. They soon make a swift yet cautious admission over to greet some short salt and peppered haired man in a dull grey suit, a blonde woman also with an equal amount of security by his side. Three armed guards in the back and three behind Steve. 
What the hell are these people so afraid of? And why is any of this happening?
You can’t quit tell what’s being said from the concealed limitation of your moveable prison to where these assumingly high end important government officials are placed. It’s incredibly frustrating that you could just about scream, but now where would that get you? Probably smacked by some electrical shocking stick, those bastards, you think bitterly.
Soon the group appears to make some agreement before the shorter grey haired man nods an approval of invitation and with that does Steve, Sam, and T’Challa follow the short man and blonde woman farther away. All you or Bucky are able to witness before the doors to the new hallway you’re currently being pushed into closes, is the group walking for some glass doors that show a long hallway.
Then the giant metal doors slam shut in your face. 
——
The forklift holding onto your portable prison cell ascends down the hallway as armed guards keep watch from both sides, walking in step with the pace of the lift as a set of eight in total surround yours and Bucky’s confinements. A minute later they bring your steel box into a windowless cement room, turning you to face the exit, your cells are rolled separately across some caution tape before all comes to a halt. Finally.
Your eyes follow the movements of regular security guards as they take long thick wires from the side of the stone walls, plugging them into your prisons as the lights inside flicker for a brief moment, stabilizing in a second. One guard gives you a wary yet curious glance before snapping his head down when your fearsome glare just about smacks him in the face, quickly after that, everyone leaves before shutting the sliding metal doors that hide you both from the outside world.
Waiting a moment, your eyes dance suspiciously across the room, “Y/N.” Calls Bucky, causing you to snap your attention over to him.
“What?” You mumble somberly, gaze trailing all over his stoically pensive expression, he’s without a doubt not pleased to be here. Though having you next to him makes things more bearable. 
“Can you breath alright?” He asks worriedly, due to the thick plastic half face mask that prevents you from properly communicating with anyone, guess the Romanian police didn’t appreciate you calling them bastards. Among other things.
“Yeah.” You mumble out once again before pulling up on the metal clasps to no avail, what is this even made out of, “They got us pretty good, Buck. This might be a bit of a challenge to get out of...”
“You think we’re getting out of these things?”
“Well.......I’m being optimistic....so, uh.....there’s always a chance.”
The smallest of smile reveals itself for a flash of a second as Bucky forgets where you are and just welcomes your never ending humor, “You think they’re watching us?”
“Without a doubt. If I could flip them off I would.” You chuckle as your eyes trail up to the tiny dark sphere in your prison, yeah that’s definitely a camera. “Dickheads.” You mutter to whoever is listening.
“What do you think they’re going to do to us?” Wonders Bucky after a long moment of silence.
Taking a heavy breath you lean your head back, “Oh I don’t know. They’ll probably put me down like an old dog and then you’ll get broken out of jail by the Captain America himself.......you’ll probably be fine.”
Shaking his head, he looks over at your relatively bored face, “What if we’re not.”
Sensing his growing anxiety for your future placement, you turn to face him, “Then I’ll......uh........break us out of here?” You muse with an unsure shrug, well the best you can with the steel hugging your shoulders.
“Not all of us can take multiple bullets and survive.” Deadpans Bucky as you frown, he’s got you there.
“Okay uh.....let me think for a second.......uh, alright I got it..” You chirp enthusiastically before your face falls just as quickly as you let out a defeated, “...fuck never mind I don’t want murder charges.”
Bucky could have laughed, “I think we’d need to be more stealthy, and anyways there’s to many cameras.”
“Yeah.” You mutter dully, “Too many goddamn cameras.”
After about twenty minutes of mindlessly sitting in your cell while Bucky sits equally as bored from his own space a couple feet next to you, a man of relative height and stature walks into the large windowless cement room, a black book shaped travel bag hanging from his shoulder. He smiles in greeting at the two of you, though you can tell behind those glasses of his it’s anything but friendly. It’s strange, the way that his dark eyes reveal no true form of kindness or pleasantries. 
Who the hell is this now?
The dark blondes beady umber irises flicker curiously from Bucky to you and back to Bucky again, a sort of childlike wonder flashing through them as he steps closer to the nearby desk.
“Hello, Mr. Barnes.” Nods the man in an almost Sokovian like accent, kinda sounds like you, greeting set on Bucky before he sends you a devious grin, “Miss. Valerious.” He nods, inquisitive eyes studying your stoic face of pure daggers as you breath steadily in your muzzle, “I’ve been sent by the United Nations to evaluate your partner here, so you needn’t worry, your time is not with me. But I ask if you please give me my time with him, that is all.” Assures the strange man as he focuses his attention back on Bucky again; eh, not like you have much of a choice.
“Do you mind if I sit?” Asks the dark eyed man as Bucky simply stares, suspicious and bored out of his mind; you naturally roll your scrutinizing leer as the man seats himself next to a table farther away in front of you two.
Guess he’s not leaving anytime soon.
“You’re first name is James?” Wonders the man though you can tell he already knows the answer; with pursed lips does he shrug innocently, “I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask a few questions. Do you know where you are James?”
Bucky keeps silent, and all you want to do is smack that annoying blondes glasses right off of his face, “I can’t help if you don’t talk to me, James.”
“My name is Bucky.” Begrudgingly mumbles your irritated companion, while your brows set hard in puzzlement for where this conversation is going.
Writing something down in his notes, the man nods, “Tell me something Bucky. You’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you?”
Bucky glares, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“You fear that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop.” Mutters the blonde man as you scoff, his dark eyes instantly snap over to you.
“Come over here and I’ll show you something terrifying.” You threaten, though your voice is mumbled and husky through the damn mask covering your mouth from properly speaking. He hands you a fake smile in reply, appearing to enjoy your menacing presage nonetheless.
Dark eyes set back onto Bucky, he hums, “Don’t worry. We only have to talk about one.” You watch in curiosity as he looks down at his touchpad screen, a satisfied little grin appearing onto his thin lips when suddenly the lights go dark, sending the room into pitch blackness. 
Though your sight shifts to dull grays and blues to counter this with your enhanced vision. A second later the dim emergency lights glow from up above giving the room a dull blue tint. While a red one blinks off and on repetitively in the shadowed room. The fuck?
“What the hell is this?” Grumbles Bucky as your eyes trail warily and alert over to the man as he draws his chair back to stand, though he remains seated. 
“Why don’t we discuss your home? Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no.” Taking a faded red book out of his traveling bag, your eyes squint in suspicion as you notice a large black star printed on the front while he continues, “Your real home.”
oh, fuck
Turning to face Bucky, you’re alarmed to witness as his face appears conflicted and anxious; he’s afraid, soon the man rises to his feet before opening up the book and begins walking towards Bucky’s cell. A smile on his face as he begins speaking in Russian, “Longing.”
“No.” Mutters your lover as he blinks hard before staring hopelessly up at the ceiling.
“Rusted.”
“Stop.” Protests Bucky as he turns to throw you a pleading look, you frown, not sure what’s happening but you know it can’t be good. Hydra never did anything like this to you, no trigger words, just good old childhood manipulation and the occasional beating if you didn’t comply.
“Seventeen.” Speaks the man as Bucky’s face darkens with anger.
“Stop.” He growls furiously as heavy breaths push at his chest with building adrenaline.
“Daybreak.” A frustrated ragged scream emits from Bucky’s lips as his fists clench and muscles tighten, the man smirks as he gets closer to Bucky’s cage.
“Stop it!” You cry desperately while Bucky yells before ripping the metal from his left hand and breaking the metal clasp on his right, an animalistic growl sounding from deep within his throat as panic sets rooted into your stomach, “Fuck off!” You scream frantically, “I’ll gut you like a goddamn fish!”
Giving a pernicious grin, he ignores you, “Furnace.”
You watch in horror as Bucky emits a roaring cry of desperate anger as he begins pounding furiously against the glass. Coming back to your senses you ignore the mess happening next to you as your muscles contract and strain against the tight metal clasps caging your forearms, shoulders, and legs to the chair.
“Nine.”
You listen to more heavy pounding on glass as a hopeless ragged cry of futile rage rips forth from your throat in an anguished attempt at breaking free. Pulling your arms upward, your flesh strains viciously against the tough metal clasps while you struggle to free yourself. A moment later the metal clasps begin to groan and creak as they loosen accordingly, your strength forcing them into compliance.
“Benign.”
A thin sheet of sweat emits from the side of your face while you yell in frustration at the weight of the locks against your wrists, Bucky pounds furiously, soon metal fist starts cracking though thick glass as you finally rip the metal clasps from off of your right arm, “Fuck off!” You roar threateningly, eyes wild and raging like a bursting dragons flame unto a hopeless stick village, the man simply shifts his gaze back down to the book.
“Homecoming.”
He ignores you; heart beating a mile a minute, you unsheathe your right claws only to free your left hand from the abrasive metal lock as he continues to pound his fist against the slowly breaking glass door. Raising your hands to the back of your lower head, you forcefully rip the thick plastic muzzle from off of your face with a distinctive cracking sound emitting from the strong material.
“Nine.” Speaks the dark eyed blonde as he walks in between the two of your cells, appearing unafraid of your threats from earlier even as he witnesses you breaking free from the steel clasps on your legs now.
“Freight car.”
Crash! 
Instantly your head snaps up to watch as Bucky’s glass door flies violently across the room and onto the harsh ground below; your breath hitches as all goes silent. The mans back is to you as he calmly walks over to Bucky who’s crouched onto the floor like a predator ready to strike, a second later he slowly rises to his feet. Though all life is gone from his dark pools of inky blue, he’s not your Bucky anymore.
“Soldier?” Whispers the dark eyed man in wonder, confident that his plan has effectively worked, whatever the fuck kind of plan in question.
Eyes wide, you swallow thickly as Bucky stares at the door, face noticeably covered in sweat, his eyes stare forward like a beast waiting to kill. He’s nothing but a vessel for chaotic destruction.
Breathing heavily, Bucky speaks in Russian, “Ready to comply.”
Suddenly the frustration in you boils over into pure animalistic rage for what this fucker has done to him, screaming bitterly, you punch the glass, slicing three thin lines straight through the material. The blonde one gives you a wary glance before addressing the Winter Soldier, “Mission report. December 16, 1991.”
“Bucky, don’t tell him shit!” You cry frantically in Russian, hoping that the Winter Soldier consuming him might hear something familiar in your desperation; whatever this man wants, you know full well what happened that night which means his motives are anything but friendly. If that wasn’t already apparent.
Bucky blinks, eyes shifting to the new ringmaster in control.
It’s no use, he’s not there, it’s what Hydra had made of him and now he must obey; Bucky ignores as you pound and scream for him to stop, to shut the hell up and come back to you but it’s all in vain. He tells the bastard everything in a matter of seconds as your face falls.
Heart pounding with adrenaline, you slash a clean line that rips right through the bolts of the door in wild fury, it sparks against your Adamantuim claws while creaking in protest as you finally kick it open. The huge door clatters and clashes to the ground as you step out of the glass prison and onto the cement flooring of the large windowless room. Red emergency lights flashing behind you as they make your tense form appear as sort of a clawed beast rising from straight out of hell.
The dark eyed man warily turns to you, when a sudden childlike excitement dances across his features as he takes a cautious step back, a small thrilled smirk pulling at his lips. The mans obsidian pools flicker over to Bucky who keeps a steady death stare with the wall ahead, the man nods in approval for his painstaking work before trailing his eyes over to you, “Soldier. Kill the Hellcat.” Smirks the man as your eyes shift reluctantly from himself to Bucky. 
oh shit, you think miserably as your heart feels like its just sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Swallowing thickly, tears threaten to spill as your body shakes with racing adrenaline, your breaths noticeably heavier as you willingly begin retracting your claws. 
The familiar metal sinks painfully back into your skin as you stare them down distastefully. Frowning deeply, you slowly pull your hands up into fists, readying your stance for the fight that’s inevitably about to come.
Making a sickened face, you swallow nervously as Bucky takes a step forward with eyes set like a wolf to his prey. Reluctantly your feet move an apprehensive step closer, “Fuck.” You mutter under your breath as Bucky makes the first move. 
——
God why does your head hurt so damn much? Is the room spinning?
When you come to, the lights are still blinking an obnoxious red as you lay sprawled out across the cement floor, a puddle of blood trailing in a couple of dark-red thin lines from beneath your head to the yellow hazard stickers placed on the ground.
The air smells of blood and sweat as you suck in a deep breath before moving to sit up, at least the headache is gone, your eyes trail warily across the empty room as you touch the back of your head to get an understanding of what the hell happened here.
You can’t remember a thing.
A warm wetness greets your finger tips to no surprise, pulling them away, you study the murky crimson liquid staining your fingertips before your mind heals completely, your brain matter fusing back accordingly. Bits of the missing puzzle pieces soon form a coherent picture as you sit back in shock from the violent happenings that resulted in you bloody on the ground. 
 The man commanded Bucky to kill you.
The two of you indeed fought, but knowing that if you wanted to win you’d have to kill him yourself; Bucky kept his life as you let the Winter Soldier end yours. After dodging fist after fist thrown at you by Bucky, you finally gave in and let him pin you to the ground before he grabbed your face with his metal hand, smashing your skull against the cement floor in one dangerous deafening blow. Then it was over and...
Where even is he?
Picking yourself up, you quickly wander into the nearest opening only to be greeted by a multitude of unconscious guards, walking further down, you furrow your brows at the heavily dented elevator door where it appears that someone had been forced through. Touching the bent metal you sniff the air, it smells of Bucky and Steve. They couldn’t have been here less then thirty seconds ago.
Shifting to the right, you book it down the hallway to the sounds of strained grunts and fists hitting flesh. Soon you’ve found yourself at the edge of a large excessively windowed room, presumably the food court of sorts in this excessively ginormous place.
In the center is Bucky who’s absolutely beating the shit out of everyone making frugal attempts at stopping him. Your eyes observe Tony who’s positioned a good distance away as he breaths heavily from the floor, eyes wide in shock while he cradles one of his arms. The blonde haired woman from earlier appears in pain as she lays on her back, a broken table underneath her as the Black Widow squeezes Bucky’s neck with her thighs.
Natasha uses her elbows as a battering ram against his skull while he walks with her over to the closest table before slamming her roughly against the metal; he glares fiercely down at the Black Widow before using his titanium fist to choke the life out of her as she struggles against his weight.
Stepping into the huge room, your boots pound against the flooring as you deliver a powerful kick to Bucky’s strong waist, he tumbles across the thin carpeting before jumping to his feet in an instant. Natasha regains her lungs in a choked gasp as you throw a fist at Bucky’s chest, deflecting it, you use this new side lined momentum to duck under his approaching blow as you slide on the flooring, missing a fatal hit to your face by mere inches.
No more face shots please.
He whips around from the near miss, charging you once again; preparing for the worst of the Winter Soldier, your shoulders line up with his approaching body as your eyes calculate his next move. But when he readies his arm to punch, you slide to the side before swiftly twisting your body around to face him once more, all done within less then two seconds.
Watching his head turn left in confusion, you kick his back harshly onto the ground with the power enough to rival that of a lioness before huffing in frustration as he surges to his feet; you immediately halt in your tracks when out of nowhere T’Challa kicks Bucky across the floor. Soon the two men dance like two skilled warriors before Bucky takes the upper hand and whips the prince over the carpeted floor.
Blinking in bewilderment, you watch as he races up the stairs; the Winter Soldier doing his absolute best to get the fuck out of there, knowing he’s outnumbered by two and wary of getting his shit rocked by you again. Though he’s not even fully aware why you’re attacking him since his mind is back at Hydra and last he remembers you where on their side, and presumably bleeding out in another room.
Breathing heavily, you turn to share an awkward moment of uncertain eye contact with the prince of Wakanda before he throws you a half restrained dirty look, sprinting up the stairs after Bucky.
You’re able to take one step before a raspy voice snaps your attention over to a table, it’s Natasha, “Y/N.” She gasps through strained breaths.
Clenching your fists you leave those two to work it out as you swiftly approach the ex-assassin, “What?!” You snap.
Forcing herself into a seated position, she gingerly touches her bruising throat, “Guess you where right.” She chuckles painfully.
“Right about what?” You bark with a frown, eyes flickering over to Bucky and T’Challa as they throw jabs on the stairway landing.
“Last we met. You said I’d be lucky if we never met again. Guess you where right.”
“You’re an ex-assassin how lucky did you really expect to be?” You retort before taking a step for the ascending stairs when a hand takes your wrist.
“You have to stop him.” Urges Natasha, “No one here’s an equal force, you’re the Hellcat Y/N, you have to stop him no matter the cost.”
Throwing her an irritated glare at hearing your Hydra code name yet again, you growl like a wounded beast, “I’m not killing anyone!”
“You might not have a choice.” Challenges the red head with a pleading yet stern display, understanding that Bucky means more to you then just simple companionship.
“There’s always a choice!” You grumble angrily, heart pounding a mile a minute as you huff before turning for the stairs only to meet a disheveled and deeply confused prince, he’s sweating and looks rather conflicted as his dark eyes scan frantically around the room for any sign of Bucky.
Suddenly his eyes land on you, freezing in place, your mind swirls with what to do next; you’re a wanted criminal in plain sight and for some reason this prince wants Bucky and presumably you, dead.
Shifting your panicked gaze over to Nat, you shake your head before turning to T’Challa as you scowl like an angry brute, “If you touch me, I’ll gut you.” And with that heavy threat do you swiftly turn on your heels and race out the closest door and into the nearest hallway. Leaving Natasha and prince T’Challa with their lives.
Now where did Bucky go?
Running past door after door while the emergency lights annoyingly scream their bright red colors in caution of extreme danger, though you and Bucky are technically the “extreme danger”. Soon you take a hard right turn and immediately slam into the firm chest of Steve as he books it down the hallway for some door hanging open at the far end.
Falling into the closest wall, you don’t have time to wait on the pain emitting from your arm as he mutters a quick apology as the six foot two American hauls ass for the exit door. Recovering in no time, you press a bloody handprint against the wall before turning after Steve. Funny, you don’t ever remember cutting yourself on anything. Doesn’t matter.
Bursting open the cracked door, bright blinding rays of sunlight glare annoyingly in your eyes while your pupils adjust to the new terrain, soon your eyes catch the dramatic scene unfolding in front of you farther down on the helicopter landing area.
Perplexed, you stand in astonishment as Bucky attempts to take off in the chopper while Steve fruitfully leaps mid-air before tightly grasping onto the aircraft’s landing skids.
He pulls down hard, face straining in intense efforts to keep Bucky from escaping and heading into God-knows-where. Legs moving quickly, you race up the small flight of stairs leading onto the huge landing pad as Steve struggles fiercely to hold it down.
But before you’re able to aid in putting an end to Bucky’s fruitful efforts, he slams the chopper into the cement; causing you to leap backwards for fear of getting your guts sliced open by the blades. You’re helpless to watch as Steve narrowly misses becoming a decapitated corpse as the blades crash violently against the ground.
Chunks of stone and steel go flying in all directions as you shield your face from the debris. But as the dust settles, you peer from over your forearm to watch as Bucky’s metal arm bursts through the glass only to immediately grasp around Steve’s neck.
“Fuck.” Slips silently from out of your lips as you take a couple cautious steps forward while moving reluctantly towards the shit show; how has the last 20 hours gone so goddamn terribly?
Creeeek. Sounds the destroyed helicopter as it suddenly begins a slow ascend over the platform edge, where a large river awaits with open arms to presumably swallow whole the broken aircraft. Now in a panicked sprint, you race over the rubble as the last of the chopper, Bucky, and Steve are seen before they plummet to the waters below.
“No!” You cry helplessly as you reach the peak of the landing, nothing beneath you except for the broken tail of the chopper and a plethora of air bubbles.
-
Tagged: @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes​ @iamasimpingh0e
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felassan · 4 years ago
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Check out this video interview with Mark Darrah, ‘On Anthem’s Launch, Dev Advice, And Leaving BioWare’. It’s interesting and pretty substantial. He talks about a bunch of different things, including his YouTube channel, things BioWare could’ve done differently, crunch, whether he’ll write a book about his gamedev experiences, gamedev pitfalls, Anthem’s troubled development, the development of projects he worked on including DA2, cancelled projects (and what happened to them) including Jade Empire 2 / ‘Jade Modern’ / Revolver and Mass Effect: Corsair, the reasons why he left BioWare and Dragon Age 4.
I recc giving the whole thing a watch, but if you’re not able to, here are the Dragon Age 4-related quotes and other especially interesting-to-me portions transcribed for ur convenience! (under a cut due to length):
Mark: "There is a tendency for projects that are small to think they're amazing, because it's so much easier. Like when I ran Sonic [Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood] - it was a 20 person team - it's just so much easier to make things go smoothly than when you have a 200 person team. So I think that we've made progress, but as Dragon Age pivots into production and that team gets bigger and bigger, it will be interesting to see if that's true or if it's just the blindness of being a small team. Like when Inquisition was in the throes of shipping, both Mass Effect: Andromeda and Anthem would love to talk about how they were 'doing things right!' and then they fell in totally different holes, but still fell in a bunch of holes after Inquisition shipped. So I do think that there is a hubris that comes from a project in early development where you feel like this time you've figured it out."
---    Mark: “As Dragon Age [4] was moving towards production, I could see that like, the team, I've been told by people that they've never met a team that more wants to be in production than Dragon Age team. But what ended up happening was, in order for the team to really explore the space properly, we had to sort've train them to be in pre-production. But that meant that that team no longer really wanted to be in production, they wanted to be in pre-production. And so, looking at what was going to be required to pivot that team into production, it wasn't a challenge that I thought I was up to any longer. I think that team, once they get into the mindset, is capable of moving entire mountains, and will move entire mountains, but they need someone that can lead them through that."
Interviewer: “Yeah, from the outside it's striking that you and Casey Hudson left at the same time. It sort’ve definitely implies a ‘fuck this’ moment for the two of you. If it was just you saying ‘I can’t do it’ then it’s understandable.”
Mark: “Yeah, no, I mean, it’s hilarious, because, we definitely were not coordinated. That was, as near as I can determine, there was nothing that triggered us on the same moment other than maybe just a sort’ve mounting, just, like, this friction, being at the, I would say, the GM and EP, the point at which the [something?] friction and the project friction meet, and you’re just sort of grinding there. But I don’t think there was a massive injection of anything late last year that triggered that. Not that I can point to. For me, yeah, I do think it was, weirdly, a coincidence. Casey and I have stayed in touch, we didn’t leave to go form a studio together or anything.”
---
Interviewer: “Are you being torn apart a little bit internally about that pressure of, ‘I know if I just made a video that said, The Secrets of Dragon Age - not even Dragon Age 4, whatever the hell that thing’s called at this point - but just, The Secrets of Dragon Age: Origins’, like, you know that  audience surely would show up. I imagine there’s that community that’s screaming at you, like, ‘Tell us something we don’t know about Dragon Age, tell us about the future!!’, versus, trying to play it a little more straight and actually offer gamedev advice.”
Mark: “Yeah, for sure, absolutely, like, looking at, there is an entire segment of YouTube which is ‘Dragon Age fans talking about Dragon theories and watching the trailers and picking them apart’ and I could do that, and that would be, I feel like that would almost destructive to everybody, because I could deflate all the theories, some of which are completely completely wrong, some of which are amazingly right. But I think, like, I don’t think the community actually wants that. They might sort’ve think they do, but I think if I just sort’ve pulled away the curtain, I think it’d be like, ‘Ohh.. but now what are we gonna talk about? :(’ Like I don’t think that anybody wants that honestly. It would be great for my metrics but I don’t think anyone really wants that.”
Interviewer: “And not to offer you advice, but like I think there’s somewhere in the middle. Like when they have the next teaser trailer for the next Dragon Age project, you could do a reaction video to that and it would be your most viewed thing by a mile, and you wouldn’t be stepping on anybody’s toes.”
Mark: “Yeah, I have thought about that exact thing. Cause we’ve now moved, I think, beyond the horizon of anything that comes out of Dragon Age at this point, like if they’re at EA Play, and I don’t know if they’re at EA Play or not, then whatever that is will be something that I didn’t have anything to do with, so we’re reaching the point where I can now, I feel like, start to provide, yeah, reaction videos from the perspective of, an incredibly well-informed outsider.”
---
Interviewer: “And you must know, even though you’re not inside the studio, like, just have an appreciation how much that [MELE’s good success and good reception] can do for the studio’s morale. I’d imagine it’s just night and day.”
Mark: “Oh, absolutely, like. Andromeda and Anthem being the last two things before the remaster, that is a cloud that hangs above the studio for sure.”
Interviewer: “Yeah, I mean I remember visiting for Dragon Age: Inquisition, it must have been, and it was still, like, the Mass Effect 3 ending, I feel like, even visiting the studio for two days, you could feel that like, funk, of just like ‘ugh, good Christ, we’ve gotten the crap kicked out of us’.”
Mark: “Yeah, I mean. The Mass endings is an interesting one for me. Because, it’s not the choices I would have made to end the game, but those are the choices that were made. I wonder... I don’t like ultimatums, and I feel like with Mass 3, the team kind’ve gave into an ultimatum. The community was so angry that we then released new better endings to ‘fix it’, and it’s not that that’s a bad piece of content, that’s a good piece of content, but I just worry that, the internet today, seems almost like... a reaction to the Mass 3 endings. Almost like, the internet learned that if you just yell loud enough you get what you want. And I don’t think that’s real, because it’s Mass Effect, it’s not Star Wars.”
Interviewer: “But I mean, if it wasn’t the ending of Mass Effect 3, it would have been something else in that era of Voices On The Internet Being So loud that it causes a big company to pivot and be like ‘Okay, we’ll try and make you a little bit happier, please just relax everybody’.”
Mark: “Yeah, totally. So I mean, I don’t think Mass Effect bears the brunt of the blame of toxic fan culture. But certainly it’s one of the very first examples of that culture managing to make something happen.”
---
Mark: “Now I do feel that maybe I overlearned that lesson, because, something that I did a lot on Anthem was talk about how, you know, ‘this is not a BioWare-style game, this is not gonna have the storytelling that you’re used to’. And I think maybe I overstressed that. I do think that at the end of the day where we are with Anthem today, if you were a BioWare fan that liked all our other games, and you play Anthem with an eye to playing it as a storytelling game, it’s certainly not our best, but it’s not bad.”
Interviewer: “So Anthem marketing and messaging was hurt because you were overlearning the lessons from Sonic, that’s the takeaway?”
Mark: “I do think so. I do think that like, I don’t think it was from the marketing perspective, but I do think that both Casey and I overstressed [that]. We didn’t want people to get mad at us for making a game that wasn’t a very good storytelling game, so we wanted to get ahead of that message and say like, ‘it’s not a very strong storytelling game, it’s a game about all this other stuff’, but, at the end of the day, it is a storytelling game, it’s still in there. And those are the people that stayed away. And if those people hadn't stayed away, I’m not saying the game would have suddenly done [awesome], but it would’ve softened the narrative a little bit, I think.”
Interviewer: “Yeah, yeah. I mean, I’m sure you understand this better than anybody, but that’s such a loaded term to say ‘This is a BioWare-style game’, and obviously there’s that era of EA where they were trying to say that every project within EA was a ‘BioWare-style’ game and so, it’s interesting to hear you kind’ve, hemming and hawwing about how much to lean into, ‘no no, this one is 100% BioWare, this one is 73% BioWare’ - it’s such a murky thing.”
Mark: “It absolutely is, I mean, and I even said these things. Like we made MDK2, well, we made it, so I mean is that a ‘BioWare-style’ game? Is Baldur’s Gate a ‘BioWare-style’ game? But if it is, then how is Mass Effect a ‘BioWare-style’ game, and certainly I don’t think anyone would argue that Mass Effect is not a ‘BioWare-style’ game. So that term has to evolve as the studio continues. But I think for whatever reason, for a variety of reasons, I guess, with Anthem we were worried that maybe we’d pushed it a bit too far. And then I guess we did.”
Interviewer: “Did you enjoy any part of working on Anthem, or was it just a matter of putting out so many fires that it was just nothing but stress til the end?”
Mark: “It was stressful for me. I mean. I have a weird - the last ten years of my career at BioWare seemed to involve a lot of helping people land their planes. And that’s what Anthem was for me, I wasn't there from the beginning. I was helping to land it. I think there’s a satisfaction that comes with landing a game, with finishing a product, and I felt that with Anthem as well, and there were a lot of talented people on that project that I’d never worked with before, and that was great. It was great to, y’know, figure out these people that had only ever worked on a Mass Effect, that I’d never worked with before, their skills and abilities. I really like understanding the strengths and weaknesses of a person and building around that. I didn’t really have an opportunity on Anthem to do that because y’know, we were just trying to get the plane on the ground, but I think, having learned about what those people could do, that’s very gratifying because it lets you imagine what you could do with them in the future.” 
Interviewer: “Yeah, if things aligned magically, but for you you realized it never was gonna align, and it was always just right on the horizon of being able to cobble this amazing talent together and focus it down.”
Mark: “Yeah, I mean - I think that I, the mistake that I made on Anthem, I think the biggest mistake, was I’m used to getting a team that pushes back on me in a certain way. So as I’m sort’ve pushing the stick down to get the plane to hit the runway, I’m used to pushing it sort’ve too far, because I know that the team is gonna push it back and then we’re gonna end up where it should be. And I think that given the state of the team on Anthem when I came on, and given the differences in personalities of the leaders there, versus the ones that I’d been working with for ten years, that’s not what happened. I think if anything, I pushed it down, and then they grabbed it and pulled it even further, because they were desperate for help in decision-making, and I was providing decisions. And they were grabbing onto that, and so I thought we were on this glide slope [motions], I was aiming at this glide slope expecting that we were gonna be like [this], but instead we were like [this], and so we, yeah, we landed that pretty rough. But, I mean, it was my call, I’m the one that said we shouldn’t push to move this, not because I thought it was perfect, but because the only path I could see to making it way better was moving it a lot. And when you’re in the last eight, nine weeks of a project, I could only see like, if we were gonna move it, we [would] have to move it like a year. And that’s - in a public corporation that’s a hard argument to make.”
---
Mark: “One of the most expensive things a project can do is slip. Because, your team, when you do that your team is at its maximum size, so if you got 200 people working on a project and you move a month, well that’s 200 staff months, you just got a bunch more expensive just by moving a month. Whereas actually adding more people, well if you only got a month left, to add 200 staff months to a project, you gotta add 200 people, that’s a lotta people. Moving the date is one of the most expensive, and you can reach a point where it’s like, look, it’s not worth it, if we move the date it’s gonna cost more to continue this project than it’s gonna make, so we’re not gonna. But rarely is that the case, you’ve already spent the money you’ve spent, so the only cost that matters is the cost going forward.”
Interviewer: “So, do you regret not pushing for Anthem to be delayed a year or was it good just to get something on the ground so that we could start building to take it off again with a living game?”
Mark: “Yeah, honestly, I don’t regret it, the [team/game?] was tired and it didn’t have another year in it, and I think a lot of the things that are super obvious now, some of them we knew, some of them we knew, like the balance, we had done one, clean balance pass, by having QA come in and hotseat their way through the game over Christmas break. Like literally playing the game 24 hours a day. We’d done basically that once. So we knew that, we knew that. But a lot of the other things kind’ve only came out once it was out in peoples’ hands. I think the path that I wasn’t capable of seeing at the time that could’ve maybe resulted in a better game would’ve been to put it into beta, like a real beta, in the state that it was in, and run it like that and then release it a year later. But I don’t know if there was the will to do that frankly. There might be now... I think Anthem taught EA a lot of lessons.”
Mark: “[on Cyberpunk] I think many of the same things happened there [as with Anthem]. They had a team that was tired and it wasn’t ready but they couldn’t see the path to getting it more ready. If the team is too tired, just taking another two months just isn’t gonna get you what you think it’s gonna get you.” [source]
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hanatiny · 4 years ago
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Love, just maybe
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requested by anon: Hi! Can you please write a Yeosang fic where he's in a wheelchair and a caretaker is hired to look after him and he falls in love with her? Thank you!!
a/n: in case anyone spots any medical inaccuracies and/or language I shouldn’t be using, please let me know so I can fix that!! thank u, enjoy <3
pairing: Yeosang x caretaker!f!reader
genre: fluff, very slight angst
word count: 2453
warnings: non-idol AU, mentions of disability and wheelchairs, mentions of driving, mentions of car crashes, brief mentions of food, Wooyoung unintentionally becomes the wingman of the year with someone else’s help lol
-----
You were not the slightest bit sure of how to feel about the situation, tapping your fingers against your steering wheel anxiously while you impatiently waited for traffic to clear up.
A man by the name of Jung Wooyoung had contacted you earlier this week, explaining that his friend Yeosang was in need of a caretaker but stubbornly refused to look into hiring one himself.
You had taken the “offer” without much thinking (it was more of a desperate request although Wooyoung would never admit this), especially since Yeosang was supposedly around your age and it’d make bonding with him easier, but now that you sat here in your car you weren’t all that confident anymore.
It seemed you weren’t allowed to dwell on this any longer, however, since you finally saw traffic clear up and were able to continue your way to your destination, namely Yeosang’s house.
You glanced at your duffle bag on the passenger seat, mentally checking if you’ve got everything - since you were a live-in caretaker, it meant you’d be staying for a while - more precisely, until your client decided they no longer required or wanted your assistance. It didn’t take you much longer to pull into the driveway of Yeosang’s house, which turned out to be a small townhouse in the outskirts of the city.
You climbed out of your car after taking a deep breath to calm your nerves
To your surprise, you found an abundance of flowers blooming in the frontyard. You also spotted a set of swings a little further back, curious to find out the reasoning for the presence of both of these things since you knew Yeosang had been a wheelchair user for quite some time and most likely didn’t take care of his garden or constructed those swings himself.
You weren’t any less startled when you rang the doorbell, only for a little girl who you assumed to be around 11 years old to open the door and greet you with a bright smile, “Hi there, ma’am! Are you here to visit uncle Sang?”
You quirked a brow at the words ‘uncle Sang,’ crouching down to be eye level with the girl before nodding at her, “Something like that, yeah. Could you go and get him for me?”
“Mhm! Just give me a minute~” She giggled as she ran off back into the house, returning shortly after with Yeosang following behind her. He was pretty good-looking, you had to admit. His messy blonde hair framed his face perfectly, and you wondered if it was as fluffy as it looked-
“Miss?” It was the girl’s voice that broke you out of your thoughts, her head tilted to the side inquisitively as she looked at you, “Are you okay?”
“Hm~? Yeah I’m fine, don’t worry.” You gave her a smile to reassure her, one she promptly reciprocated before turning to Yeosang when he gently placed his hand on her shoulder.
“It’s getting late, Minji.” He spoke softly, “You should get home, I bet your little brother and your parents wanna hear all about what we did today~”
She whined as he playfully ruffled her hair, nodding at him in understanding, “Fine~ See you tomorrow, uncle Sang! Bye bye, nice lady~!”
You found it adorable how she addressed you before she gave both you and Yeosang each a small hug before skipping off, presumably back to her own house.
Yeosang watched her with a smile until neither of you could see her anymore, the male clearing his throat awkwardly while his eyes inspected the bag in your hand.
He motioned you to follow him after another beat as he carefully pushed his wheelchair backwards and further into the house, stepping inside and closing the door behind yourself afterwards.
“I know why you’re here, since Wooyoung can’t keep his mouth shut,” Yeosang finally spoke, and it was as if the weight of your nervousness physically dropped from your shoulders, “and I imagine that you know why I’m not all too pleased about it.”
There was no disdain whatsoever towards you in his tone, only exasperation about the fact that his best friend had gone against his wishes.
He took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing, “As I’m sure you’re aware, I dislike having other people do things for me. I grew up being independent from others so this... circumstance isn’t exactly a fortunate one. If you can prove within, let’s say... a week that you genuinely care for more than the money that’s in it for you for doing this, I’ll let you stay even longer.”
It was a fair agreement - if Yeosang was to have a caretaker despite being highly apprehensive about the idea, the least he could make clear is that he didn’t want anyone who’d do a half-assed job and only pretend to care about him.
“We’ve got a deal.” You stated firmly in response, placing your bag on the floor next to you and extending a hand for the blonde to shake. He appeared to hesitate for a split second before shaking your hand with a nod, and you could’ve sworn you his lips twitch into the faintest bit of a smile.
“Lovely. Since I know you’ll need the knowledge, I figured I should tell you where all the rooms are.” He gestured for you to follow, watching him manage to turn himself around before picking up your bag again and letting him lead the way for you.
It was a pretty spacious living space for a single person, though given the circumstances, you weren’t particularly surprised about it.
“Let’s see... My bedroom is down the hall, and so is my bathroom. Minji’s room, the guest room you’ll be staying in and the guest bathroom are upstairs. And the kitchen, living room and dining room are, as you can surely tell, all connected.”
“Got it.”
Yeosang cleared his throat, and you subconsciously straightened your posture a little. “Now,” he said, “you should know that I tend to go to sleep really early, so I suppose this is what I will go ahead and do now. You can explore a little more if you want, but you should get rest as well since you officially start working tomorrow.”
“Are you sure you won’t need my help tonight...?” You inquired tentatively, not wanting to overstep any kind of boundary, and Yeosang seemed hesitant to answer before nodding firmly. “Thank you... but I’ll manage.” He finally said, “Good night, Y/n.”
You shouldn’t have been as stunned by his use of your name as you were, yet there you stood, watching him make his way down the hallway before disappearing into his bedroom. You turned on your heel, deciding that exploring could wait in favor of making yourself at home in ‘your’ room.
You skipped up the stairs, your bag swung over your shoulder, and were quick to find the bedroom you’d be staying in. Minji’s room was decorated overly cutely, while yours looked... lived in. You made a mental note to make sure to ask Yeosang about this.
And sure enough, prove yourself like he challenged you to do was exactly what you did.
Finding out the time Yeosang would usually wake up, you made it your goal to always get up before him to cook a healthy breakfast for him and prepare clothes for him to wear. He was initially reluctant to let you help with the latter, although it didn’t take him long to admit that he both needed and appreciated your assistance with things he wasn’t able to do by himself. Yeosang blushed profusely whenever he asked you to help him in bathroom, be it to empty his bladder or to wash himself, but he did catch himself warming up to you faster than he’d like anyone to know.
He admired the care you put into helping him even with arguably straining tasks like changing positions into a chair, for example, even though he was capable of doing so with minimal help. He took to either reading or playing the violin whenever you left the house to run errands like grocery shopping, and he couldn’t help but let his mind drift to you.
He had once been so distracted by his own thoughts that you had caught him playing a gentle piece on his instrument of choice, and he mentally scolded himself for the rest of that day for allowing it to come to such an embarrassment.
You, however, were absolutely endeared. Both by the fact that he was able to play an instrument as beautiful as the violin, and by the observation you’ve made that he seemed to have quite a big soft spot for Minji.
Speaking of the young girl, you grew closer to her as well - she even began calling you “aunt Y/n” after a few visits, and you could’ve sworn that her cuteness had melted you right where you stood.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Yeosang either, and it had him constantly repeating the two words in his head. He refused to admit it aloud, but he knew that what had his mind racing was the thought of a possible relationship with you that’d go beyond simply caring for him.
Similarly, you found yourself thinking about what it might actually be like to care for a child together with the blonde but snapped out of it before you allowed yourself to take your thoughts to a level that exceeded the professional one you should’ve been keeping it at.
It was Yeosang who finally broke the splintering ice between the two of you after approximately three and a half weeks of you living with him while you two were sitting on the terrace that overlooked his garden, enjoying a comfortable evening together, and you couldn’t help but tense a little from his words, “You know,” he began, “I feel like you deserve some answers to the questions I know you have but are too hesitant to ask.”
You felt your cheeks warm, he couldn’t have been any more correct with his observation.
“Let’s see - your room looked so... used, if you will, because it’s the room Wooyoung previously stayed in before he was forced to move away for work and consequently hired you to take care of me. As for Minji, her parents are away a lot so that’s why she comes over almost every day. Wooyoung and her parents constructed those swings for her when she started visiting me more frequently, and Minji’s friends are the ones taking care of the garden together with her. Y’know, since I can’t for obvious reasons.”
You nodded thoughtfully in response, somewhat overwhelmed by the amount of information you were being given but still grateful for Yeosang’s willingness to be this open with you.
“It’s been almost a year since the accident that caused me to be as I am now, in a wheelchair and codependent due to paraplegia. I will be honest, I neither know nor care to find out why that other guy rammed my car with his... I just know that we wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation if he didn’t and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for putting me in this situation, in this dilemma of being unable to move or even just feel my lower half.”
“That’s understandable... I can only imagine how much it ruined your life, not to mention the emotional trauma that must’ve come with the accident.” You replied softly, trying to be careful with your words as Yeosang nodded in agreement, “Yeah, I haven’t sat in a car again ever since it happened. And I don’t really like talking about it, admittedly...”
You tilted your head at him in question while he trailed off, “I don’t mean to offend, but if that’s the case... Why are you telling me?”
“I can’t blame you for being confused about it, and I’ll be happy to explain my reasoning behind this. Truth is, I like you. In a more than ‘you care for me so I act nice around you’ way, in a... ‘I want to get closer to you’ kind of way.”
You couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow at Yeosang’s roundabout way of confessing to you, “Are you saying... you have a crush on me?”
“I- well, yeah. That’s what I’m trying to say.” Yeosang nodded shyly at your tentative question, a hum sounding in your throat in response before he continued, nervously fidgeting with his hands a little. “Listen, I just... I think I could fall in love with you. I want to ask you to permanently move in with me, because I most definitely will never get sick of you. Of course you don’t have to accept, if you don’t want to or just don’t feel the same way...”
He trailed off, not even realizing how distracted he was by the way the light of the setting sun illuminated your face until he heard you giggle softly. Yeosang blushed when he noticed that you had, rather boldly, moved your chair closer to him and were now stroking his hair absentmindedly. He found it pathetic how easily the simple gesture flustered him, not dwelling on it any longer while you spoke, “It’s funny that you bring this up, honestly... Because I happen to feel the exact same way. And maybe, just maybe, I could also see myself falling in love with you in the future. With all of you.”
“All of me?” Yeosang echoed tentatively, “Are you sure..?”
You nodded a little more enthusiastically than intended, although that was presently the least of your concerns, “I’m sure. What kind of person would I be if I rejected you purely because of something that’s out of your control?”
Yeosang felt a grin tug at his lips at the double meaning of your statement, although he found himself fumbling a little over his words. “Touché. So... what now? Is this the part where I ask you to be my girlfriend?”
“It is, and it’s also the part where I answer that question with a ‘yes’~”
Yeosang beamed at you, truly delighted that you were willing to give him a chance to be yours. Little did you know though that, as the two of you continued to talk until late in the night about everything under the sun, there was a certain young girl watching you both from where she sat at her window in the neighboring house with a small dreamy sigh before suddenly jumping up and making a run for it down the stairs.
“Mom, can you give me the phone for a sec? I wanna tell uncle Woo that my matchmaking plan worked~!”
----- Taglist:
@atinykitty @cometoceantrenches @ddeonghwva @galaxteez​ @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @nightqueennyx @serialee @twancingyunhoe @vocalyunho
Network tag: @8makes1teamnet​
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julemmaes · 5 years ago
Note
“If I go on a date with you, will you bring the dog from your profile picture?” for Rowaelin or Elorcan maybe? 🙂
Puppies - October 15th
Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre
A/N: I think I’m running a fever and I’m pissed cause it’s not the ideal right now, don’t you all think? But still, I wanted to post this and PP chapter 6, but I cannot for the love of god try and translate that too, so I hope I can do it for tomorrow, in the meantime enjoy this fluffy/cute thing since I’m always giving you just angst.
Enjoy:)
Oh and I think I’m gonna write a part two to this, just like for the Rowaelin one when I get the time and I finish every prompt. Also, again, I’m sorry if this is taking so fucking long, I do understand it’s December and this thing is called October Something so yeah
Word count: 3,883
Lorcan could not get over the fact that a beautiful girl like Elide had agreed to go out with him. Or rather, he could not understand how a beautiful girl like her had asked him out on a date.
A hint of panic crept into his mind, causing his smile to waver when he remembered his best friend's mocking words. "She didn't ask you out, she just wants to see your dogs." Rowan had joked when he had explained why he was taking the dogs for a walk dressed so elegantly.
Lorcan had eyed his black skinny and his beige sweater with an arched eyebrow, feeling sorry for Aelin if Rowan thought that outfit was elegant. He told him he had to meet a girl and his friend demanded to see some photos and Lorcan knew he would never let him out until he pulled out her tinder profile.
Rowan had opened his eyes wide in front of Elide's black-haired, pearly-skinned beauty, then burst out laughing, slamming his hand on his back and telling him he didn't stand a chance with someone like that.
Now, as he walked with Opal by his side with Maya pulling them both way too excitedly, he felt the anxiety grow with every step.
They had exchanged numbers almost immediately and talked for a week, sending pictures of what they were doing and eating, and when Elide had sent him a picture of a meat plate with rice, he had asked her where she was. She had gone out with some friends to her favorite restaurant in town and from there a conversation about their favorite places had started and Lorcan had mentioned that he should try the dish she had ordered, because it was as if he could smell it through the phone. At that point Elide had told him that she would gladly accompany him and Lorcan, like the idiot he was, had asked her if she was serious and she had sent him a message: "If I go on a date with you, will you bring the dogs from your profile picture?"
He had grinned like an idiot, happy to know that she didn't think they were vicious beasts. His two little dogs, two sisters, had entered his life when they were only a few weeks old and now he couldn't imagine his life without them, but sometimes it was difficult to convince other people, especially strangers, that they weren't aggressive and wouldn't tear them to pieces.
They had decided to meet at the Gardens of Orynth so that his two pitbulls could run a little bit free, instead of having to walk around the city with muzzles all the time and Elide had sent him a short video of her jumping happily at the idea of meeting him.
He was looking around for the girl, when he heard someone calling for him and his head snapped in the direction of the Turtle Fountain.
He opened his eyes wide, chuckling in dismay when he realized that Elide was dressed almost exactly like him. A beige sweater tucked on the front of her black pants, torn at the knees, which did absolutely no justice to the legs he had seen her show on her tinder profile. Even the shoes were the same, simple black lumberjack ankle boots, years old in appearance. The only thing differentiating them was the religiously black jacket she wore, which enveloped her figure perfectly.
That moment of distraction in which he admired her cost him the grip on Maya's leash, which with a sudden snap managed to pull him forward and free herself. The pitch black dog ran up to the girl and Elide smiled widely, crouching on the ground and opening her arms. The little dog immediately started to welcome her, licking her face and getting up on her hind paws, scratching her legs with those in front.
Lorcan cursed loudly and ran towards them, Opal looked up at him for a moment, starting to toddle next to him a second later, to keep up.
"Hello you beautiful," Elide was saying, rubbing her hand on the dark fur, "you must be Maya." When the dog started whining, wagging her tail even more, she giggled, "Yes, it's you."
Lorcan was sincerely surprised by the scene, but when Elide looked up, smiling at him with bright eyes, he remembered that he should speak. "I'm so sorry, normally I can hold her." He apologized, scratching the back of his neck.
She shrugged, "Don't worry about it." Then she went back to the dogs, extending her hand to Opal, who seemed just as excited as Maya, but sat next to him.  When she sniffed Elide's hand without approaching, she stood up and Lorcan saw with horror that she had mud marks on her pants. He felt himself blush, "Fuck, I'm sorry," and then she handed him Maya's leash, shaking her head. He touched her hand and his brain short-circuited.
"Don't worry," she said smiling and showing her teeth, "really." she repeated when Lorcan glared at the dog. Then she tilted her head to the side, "Hi."
Lorcan smiled in turn, looking at her. God, she was so beautiful.
"Hi."
She leaned towards him, leaving a light kiss on his cheek and immediately returning to her place, adjusting her bag on her shoulder, "I like the way you are dressed, excellent choice."
He was dumbfounded for a moment by her spontaneous gesture. Not that no girl had ever kissed his cheek, but her lips had been so soft and warm against his skin and at the same time so confident and solid. He quickly recovered, pointing to her clothes, "Yes, I must say that your taste is impeccable too."
She smiled at him, shifting her gaze to the dogs for a few seconds, then those black puddles locked on him, "So, how's your day going so far?"
Maya kept circling around her and Opal seemed less and less uncomfortable, her ears now low and her tail moving slightly behind her. The most excitement she would show for a stranger, Lorcan knew. But he was still happy that she was not hiding behind his legs.
He grinned at her, "Very well, I was looking forward to going out with a certain girl," he joked.
Elide snickered, looking him in the eye, "Yes, I was quite excited to meet this new friend of mine too." Then she turned to the dog pen - a huge section of the park reserved for animals, so that people wouldn't bother them while they too were running free. "Shall we go there?" she asked, pointing with one hand.
Lorcan nodded, urging the puppies to walk.
The second he released the leash to both of them, the dogs snapped forward, starting to run in the area. The two of them sat down on a bench just right by the fence and when he turned towards her, Elide was giving him a bright smile.
"What?" he asked her, arching an eyebrow.
She shrugged, "Nothing," she muttered, "I just thought you'd be a lot more chatty, you know."
Lorcan felt himself blush again. It was true, by message and the few times they had called each other, Lorcan had talked a lot and there had never been a second he hadn't had his line ready, but now it was almost as if he no longer had the ability to have a normal conversation. He gave her a frustrated look, "Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize," she giggled and Lorcan felt his chest tighten to that sound. She turned to the dogs when she heard Opal barking and he was breathless when her smile widened even further, seeing the silvery dog running in their direction, "What did you do this morning that was so important that you couldn't answer me?"
He forced his body to relax under her inquisitive eyes, "I had to convince my roommate that calling a plumber to fix the toilet was a much better idea than trying to solve the problem on our own and-". Lorcan puffed, passing a hand through his hair, "Sometimes he can be difficult."
Elide became pensive, "Are you talking about Rowan?"
He nodded, surprised that she remembered the name of his best friend.
"If it's any consolation, my roommates are headstrong too," she said as she opened her eyes wide, "and most of the time it's just as hard as childbirth to have someone else help us around the house," she sighed, "Asterin drives me crazy, too, for other reasons."
Lorcan raised an eyebrow, asking tentatively, "How come?"
He had heard about her roommates, Asterin and Manon, only a couple of times and Elide hardly ever answered his messages when the two girls were present, she always found an excuse to end the conversation.
Initially, Lorcan had thought that Elide simply wanted to spend time with them, but the more days passed the more she avoided him when they were home. He started to think that she didn't want them to know that she was talking to a loser like him, which hurt him more than it should. He was used to people avoiding him on the street and judging him too soon because of his grumpy attitude and the grimace always present on his face, but Elide had found out more about him than any other person had ever done in twice the time and he believed there was a connection between the two of them.
Perhaps it was not the same for her.
When she took a while to respond, he looked closely at her, seeing that she was biting her lip.  Maybe he shouldn't have asked. He should have left it alone.
Before he could tell her that they didn't need to talk about it, she said, "She always brings new people home and" she made a noise that sounded more like a grunt than a laugh, "I have absolutely nothing against having a different partner every night," she said.
Lorcan stiffened beside her and saw her eyes open wide. Now that he thought about it, she was hardly ever free in the evening to call him or to stay on face time.
She carried her hand to her mouth, snorting, "Oh God, I didn't mean it that way -" she stopped, "I don't do- I never- Shit." She cursed out loud and took a deep breath, "I meant Asterin is big and vaccinated and can do whatever she wants, I'd just rather she was less noisy." she concluded sighing and carrying a hand to her chest.
Lorcan looked at her gently, "You know," he offered to comfort her, "there would be nothing wrong with it if you had a-" he choked on his words and coughed, "a different partner every night."
The idea disturbed him more than expected. Not because he saw such a thing as distasteful - he, too, had had his golden days when he was younger by Rowan's side - but because the idea of someone else touching Elide as he had only once dared to dream about, gave him chills.
She looked at him carefully, frowning, and he had to shift his gaze to the dogs because he couldn't stand the emotion on her face. He could not decipher it.
He spoke in a low voice when he said, "But I'm not looking for something temporary or a fling, Elide." he gave her a thoughtful look, letting her see the sincerity in his eyes, "I'm quite tired of the occasional stories I find myself in every time."
His mind went straight to Maeve and a shiver ran down his spine.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and when he turned around, she was smiling, "I've never dated anyone, Lorcan," she whispered, as if she was afraid of his reaction. Her hand slipped away from his body and he missed that touch immediately, "I'm serious." Then she grimaced, "I've never even had a boyfriend, but that's a story for another date. Definitely not for our first time out."
Lorcan studied her carefully as Opal approached them and let herself be pampered by Elide. Maya somewhere playing with the other dogs.
She seemed upset and if the deep frown between her eyebrows was not enough to let him realize it, her bouncing leg confirmed his doubts.
Whatever they would talk about that night, neither of them would bring up the subject of relationships, and he felt relieved, if only slightly.
"I didn't want to meddle in your affairs, I just wanted to make it clear that I don't want anything casual." he bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees and crossing his fingers.
He was surprised when she murmured, "Neither do I."
He threw a stunned smile over his shoulder and she took a deep breath. Then she chuckled, scratching behind the dog's ears and making her mumble, "And not to mention Manon." She closed her eyes and dropped her head backwards, without letting go of her grip on Opal's snout, "That girl will be the end of me."
This time he remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
"She's been dating a guy for years and it seems like their fucking honeymoon phase never ends." she grunted, "Between the two of them I don't know which one makes me feel worse about my non-existent sex life."
Lorcan laughed, covering his face with his hands. He liked how comfortable she was talking about such things with him. All the girls he had dated up to that point had been uneasy just because he used bad words in his daily life, but Elide seemed to use them in turn, so she certainly wouldn't dump him and tell him she couldn't be with a longshoreman.
He leaned against the backrest, extending an arm behind her and maybe it was his imagination or maybe not, but it seemed to him that Elide moved closer to him. "I feel you, Rowan and Aelin, his girlfriend, are the loudest couple I know and it's so agonizing sometimes that I have to go to sleep at our neighbors' house. And even there I can still hear them, but at least I can fall asleep." she looked at him amused and shocked at the same time, "They have been our friends for years too," he explained quickly.
Elide nodded, "I have no neighbor to seek shelter from."
He caressed her shoulder lightly, "You can always camp in my living room, they tell me that the sofa is very comfortable."
She laughed, "Thank you," then looked at him, licking her lower lip, "I will consider your offer the next time Dorian or the stranger number two thousand will be our guest."
They didn't notice Maya running towards them until a big heavy black hairy ball threw itself between the two of them and Elide let go a noisy breath, laughing, when the dog gave her a muzzle against her chest with all her strength.
"Maya!" Lorcan scolded her, gasping. The dog wagged his tail on their legs, hitting them both in the face as she turned to lick his face first and then hers. Lorcan tried several times to push her away to prevent her from ruining Elide's light makeup, but the girl didn't seem to care at all and when Opal got on the bench, laying her snout on her leg, Lorcan gave up completely.
They played for more than half an hour with the dogs, even getting up at a certain point to throw sticks and balls and when the sun began to set, Elide turned towards him, short of breath for the various races made to chase the dogs, "What do you say if we head towards the restaurant?"
Lorcan sniffed, trying to catch his breath, "I'd love to."
Putting the leashes back on Maya and Opal, Elide asked him if she could carry one. He didn't even think as he passed her Opal's. Surely if he had let her carry Maya, it would have ended badly and she would have fallen over and he didn't feel like finishing the night in the emergency room at all.
They were walking along the perimeter of the park and Maya was pulling as usual, dictating the pace and Lorcan tried as much as possible to pull her back so they wouldn't have to run, but it seemed impossible.  He tried to slow down every time Elide started talking and by the sixth time she had to stop mid-sentence to catch her breath, Lorcan wondered if everything was alright.
At one point, she had taken his hand and now, while they were talking about this and that, he was trying not to squeeze her fingers too hard every time he had to squeeze the leash. The gesture was a spontaneous reaction of his body.
When Maya made them speed up one more time, Elide whimpered and stopped talking, stumbling slightly in her footsteps. Opal turned around in a flash towards her, stopping a few steps in front of them.
Lorcan halted, taking his hand away from Elide's and turning completely towards her. Her breath was wheezing and her forehead was sweating and he could see she was suffering. Panic poured into his stomach.
"El," he murmured that nickname silently, opening his eyes wide in front of her pained expression, "what is it?"
He, too, had been out of breath, but it was already twenty minutes they were walking along quietly, and even though Maya seemed to want to give them a slimming workout, she shouldn't have been so tired.
She closed her eyes, shifting her weight to her left leg and jerked, grunting, "It's nothing." she breathed, looking at him with blurred eyes, "Don't worry," she smiled slightly.
Nothing-
"I shouldn't worry?" he put his hand on her arm, pushing her gently toward a bench nearby, "It looks like you're about to die." the fear was clear in his voice. Elide held back another groan, but Lorcan heard her gasp under his grasp. "Are you having an asthma attack?"
He said the first thing that came to his mind and was surprised to hear Elide giggling beside him.
The second she sat down, her expression changed completely and she seemed to relax. She stretched her right leg forward and his eyes fell on her ankle. Only then, with her pants pulled up slightly and her shoe shifted, did he see the scars that marked her skin. He held his breath.
When he met Elide's gaze again, she had a guilty grimace on her face.
"I'm sorry," she murmured to him.
Lorcan shook his head, closing his eyes, "Sorry, mh, why are you apologizing?"
Elide sighed, passing her hand over her face, "Normally I can walk on it for more than an hour without any problem, but with running before and Maya pulling now, I think I strained it too much and it's really hurting me." In the meantime she had leaned forward, her hands stretched out on her leg while she was massaging her calf going further and further down towards her ankle.
He sat down next to her, making sure that both dogs were sitting on the opposite side of her, so as not to risk worsening her already difficult situation.
He didn't know what to say, too many questions were going through his head.
"Why didn't you tell me? We could have taken a cab or we could have met directly at the restaurant," he told her, putting his hand on her back when, touching the swollen part of her ankle, she whined.
Elide looked at him from under her eyelashes, "Because guys normally don't want to go out with cripples. Or a girl with a cane." Then she turned down again, "And I really wanted to go out with you tonight."
It warmed Lorcan's heart, but he was still annoyed that he made her think he was that kind of person and that she didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth - or hide it from him. Then he felt sick at the thought of how many more times Elide had had to face that conversation and who knows how many more times someone had told her that they were no longer interested after finding out the truth.
He swallowed, choosing his next words wisely, "I don't care if you have scars or if you have difficulty walking without support, Elide." He told her sincerely, "I understand why you didn't tell me, but I'd rather you didn't hide these things from me from now on."
He would not ask her questions about how or why her leg was damaged in such a way.
Elide sat up, covering her face with her hands, "Do you think you could slow Maya down a little bit?" the sound muffled by her fingers, "The restaurant is right on that street." she pointed out a road only a hundred meters ahead. Then she looked at him and her eyes were shiny and Lorcan's throat tightened.
"Are you alright?"
He immediately regretted the question. It was obvious she wasn't.
It didn't seem to bother Elide in the slightest. She nodded, then moved her foot in a circular pattern, biting her lower lip so hard that Lorcan thought she was going to tear it off. "Yes, I'm fine," she said with wheezing breath.
Lorcan looked at her with worried eyes, "You don't look well though."
Elide stared at him taking deep breaths, "Because the bones in my ankle are rubbing against each other and I have no water behind me to take painkillers," she said honestly, "But I can make it to the restaurant and on the way back I'll take a cab or call Manon or Asterin to pick me up."
Lorcan looked at her and then the restaurant, then her again, "Are you sure you can make it?"
"What other options do I have?" she smiled at him.
He nodded, "You're right."
She sighed and put her forehead over his shoulder. It seemed so familiar to Lorcan that he risked tearing the skin off his face so quickly he smiled.
"Can we rest for five minutes?" she asked him in a tired voice.
Lorcan put his arm around her shoulders and held her closer, feeling brave and kissing her temple, "We can rest all night as far as I am concerned."
Elide made a verse of approval and when Lorcan looked at her, he noticed that her eyes were closed and although she still had a sweaty forehead and a grieving expression, she was smiling.
They sat down for more than five minutes and only when Elide was able to take more than five steps without flinching, Lorcan decided that they could go to the restaurant. An arm tied around her hips to support her and the two leashes tightened in his free hand.
He did not know for what grace of God, but even Maya seemed to have realized the situation, and had slowed down her pace drastically, trotting alongside Opal undisturbed.
Inay, the owner of the place, had made them sit inside, near the large window overlooking the river, and there, Elide and Lorcan enjoyed the first of a thousand other dinners they would share.
tog taglist (if you wanna be added or removed dm me or send me an ask)
@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @ladywitchling @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @queenestarcheron
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visceraah · 5 years ago
Text
Intrulogical week day 7- Free day
“Smoking causes an extremely damaging buildup of tar in your lungs and, in some cases, cancer.”
Remus licked the edge of it, rolling it up without even looking at Logan. “Maybe I like choking.”
So that was how it was. Logan shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked. “You are aware we’ll have to act as though we like each other for this, yes?”
“You’re saying you don’t like me?” Remus pouted. If Logan didn’t know better, he would’ve thought he saw a flicker of hurt on his face… But whatever it was, it was gone in an instant. “Why, that completely changes things.”
“I am saying, we must act like a couple.” Logan corrected, unimpressed.
-
Or, a ridiculously self indulgent fake dating AU
AO3
Content warnings: homophobia, cannibalism mention, smoking, and the usual for innuendos.
Logan wanted to punch something.
Ordinarily, he was not a violent man. He believed resolving your issues with fists was an outlet for those too unintelligent to properly articulate themselves.
He also believed, had he spent any more time in that room, he would have tried to pummel his father to a pulp.
Hands shaking with rage, he pulled out his phone. It took a few tries to click the correct number, and he slowly raised it to his ear.
“Logan?” Pattons’ voice was full of concern and, for the first time in years, he wanted to cry. He didn’t trust his voice, but apparently his silence was enough. “We’re on our way.”
-
“Allow me to duel them!”
Romans anger might have been sweet at first, but it was beginning to wear thin. Logan rolled his eyes. “Even if I believed they would accept, violence solves nothing.”
“But they deserve it.” Roman muttered, sitting back down dejectedly.
“Hey, no mister! Violence is bad.” Patton reprimanded, although even he wasn’t too firm. Nobody was the biggest fan of Logans’ parents right now.
“I was expecting this. They have expressed their… distaste, for gay people. It was foolish to expect any other kind of reaction.” Logan tried, hating how his voice shook as he spoke.
Patton put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re their son, Lo, it wasn’t fo-”
“I’ve got it!” Roman declared loudly, startling the other two. Patton opened his mouth but Logan, glad for the shift of focus from his emotions (... because that was uncomfortable), shook his head.
“You take home to them the worst boyfriend ever! Fake, that is. He can be rude and dismissive and swear-y and the total opposite to a gentleman. That way, when you actually bring home a boy you like, they’ll be so relieved it’s not.. That.. and have no choice but to accept him!”
Patton clapped politely. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Even if I consented, what makes you think this would work?”
“Oh, trust me. It’ll work.” Roman told him confidently, and Patton leant over to whisper “I’m convinced.”
What was he getting himself into?
“... I assume you have the perfect delinquent in mind.”
Roman grinned.
-
“What do you want, fuckwaffles?”
Roman spluttered, and Logan was already regretting this. The ‘delinquent’ in mind had been his twin, and even though Logan had been his friend once… That was a long time ago. He barely recognised the boy in front of him, lounging on bench and smoking what he sincerely hoped was just tobacco.
Logan figured he would cut to the chase, to spare any more stupidity. “Allow me to be frank- I recently informed my parents I was gay.” Remus seemed to perk up at that. “They did not take it well. Your brother seems to think pretending to date the worst possible influence will persuade them to accept a less abrasive boy, and I… Am out of other ideas.”
“That sucks.” Remus said, sincerely, and took a drag from his cigarette. “But I’m not interested. Fanfic rules say if you fake date, you fall for each other or whatever, and no offense Specs, but I don’t wanna bang a nerd.”
Logans brow furrowed. “Fanfic..?”
“Yeah, you know- works of ‘fanmade fiction’. Where you have a hard on for some made up guy and write about him fucking a different character you project onto. Ro writes it all the time.”
“I do not write smut!” Roman said indignantly, going red.
“I know.” Remus sighed sadly. “That’s why your fics suck.”
Logan was pretty sure they were speaking another language, but he decided to power through. Whatever they were saying, it didn’t seem too important. “It’ll be purely professional.” Logan reassured him. And, because he was a little desperate… “And I can pay.”
Remus stared at him for a long minute, before finally putting out his cigarette on the bench. Logan cringed at the burn mark it left on the wood. “My first job as a male escort… Fine.”
Roman sighed in relief, and Logan nodded, sticking his hand out. Remus eyed it, then spat onto his palm and slapped it against Logans, giving it an unnecessarily tight shake.
Logan didn’t bother to hide his disgust, making note to wash his hands ASAP. Remus just grinned back at him.
“I’ll bring a spliff. When dya need me?”
Ah. Logan cringed “... Now.”
“Lucky for you, my evening’s free. We should probably get a story straight, first though- you wanna go for a walk?”
What choice did Logan have? He nodded curtly, and they started the walk in silence. He heard Remus drag out a sigh, and glanced over to see him pulling out some paper and starting to roll himself another cigarette. He frowned disapprovingly.
“Smoking causes an extremely damaging buildup of tar in your lungs and, in some cases, cancer.”
Remus licked the edge of it, rolling it up without even looking at Logan. “Maybe I like choking.”
So that was how it was. Logan shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked. “You are aware we’ll have to act as though we like each other for this, yes?”
“You’re saying you don’t like me?” Remus pouted. If Logan didn’t know better, he would’ve thought he saw a flicker of hurt on his face… But whatever it was, it was gone in an instant. “Why, that completely changes things.”
“I am saying, we must act like a couple.” Logan corrected, unimpressed.
“So you do like me?” Remus teased, elbowing Logan in the side. “But… Alright. We hooked up at that gig down The Crown the other week- naturally, I was the top- and it’s been non-stop sex ever since. Happy?”
“I am not telling my parents any of that.” Logan said firmly. Once, he would have blushed at that, but he knew by now better than to take Remus’ words at face value.
“Why?” Remus tucked his cigarette behind his ear- just to crown the ‘troublemaker’ look, Logan supposed. Smoking was repulsive and all, but… It did kind of suit him. “Chose it cause you were there- don’t want them to know you go out?”
“No, actually. Whilst that was not my primary issue with your suggestion, it is not a detail they know, or I intend on sharing with them.”
Remus stared at him, and he shifted awkwardly under his gaze. “You didn’t tell them?”
“You… Remember what they are like.” Logan reminded him. “Can you blame me?”
Remus nodded, but for some reason he was still looking at him. “How’d you avoid getting caught, then?”
“Some of us are good at it.” Logan replied with a smirk
Remus gasped and elbowed him again. “Fuck off. Not my fault my parents don’t trust me!”
“I sincerely believe it is.”
Remus laughed, and Logan couldn’t help watching him. For someone so harsh, he was… Cute. He blushed when he was caught looking at him, quickly shaking his head and looking away.
Remus didn’t like silence, though, no matter how comfortable. It didn’t take long for him to open his mouth again. “What happened to us?”
Logan turned to look at him inquisitively, waiting for him to continue.
“I mean…” Remus seemed to hesitate, almost embarrassed. Huh. Logan hadn’t thought he could get embarrassed. “We used to be mates, yknow? We talked about weird shit together, like- fuck, I don’t know, how tigers have spikes on their dick.”
Logan snorted at that. “I suppose we did.”
And the silence was back. It didn’t feel right, though- Logan knew there was more to say, so, reluctantly, he explained, “We were just… Very different. I was interested in my studies, you were interested in…”
“Eh, I get it.” Remus dismissed before he could even finish. “M’a bad influence- couldn’t have the model student associating with me.”
Logan frowned, looking over at Remus. “I don’t see why that should be the case.”
Remus startled, almost dropping his cigarette. He seemed shocked, and Logan almost smiled.
Before either of them could try and make sense of this strangely emotional moment, though, Logan had stopped walking and turned to look at the nearest house. They were there, and he didn’t like it one bit.
“... I am unsure if I can do this.” Logan admitted, taking a step back. He felt a weight on his shoulder, and looked up to see Remus’ hand. It was strangely comforting.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be the worst boyfriend you could ask for.”
Logan snorted and took a deep breath, holding out his hand. When Remus just stared at it, he explained, “To sell it.”
Remus made a small ‘ah’ of understanding, linking their hands and walking forwards with him.
Before he even had the chance, Remus rung the doorbell for him. Once, then again, and again and again and-
His mother opened the door angrily. “Logan, that’s immature and, quite frankly, rather idiotic.” Her eyes landed on Remus and they narrowed. “Who’s that?”
“Oh, I’m Remus. Pogan’s boyfriend.”
Her eye twitched. “That isn’t- Logan, can I have a word?”
Logan, who had until now just been watching in fascination- Remus really did have this down- subconsciously straightened his back. “Yes mother?”
“Alone.”
“Oh, anything you can say to him, you can say to me.” Remus supplied, leaning on the doorframe. “You gonna let us in or what?”
The colour drained from his mothers face and, if he weren’t so nervous, Logan would be genuinely impressed. “I have invited him back for dinner. I hope that’s alright.”
The look on her face said it very much wasn’t, but she forced herself to take a deep breath. She stepped back, forcing a thin-lipped smile to her face. “Of course.”
“Sick.” Remus walked straight past her, dragging Logan with him. “What’re we eating, then?”
“Pie. Your father will be home soon.” She said, message clear as she turned on her heel and left the room.
“I’m a vegan, so leave out any meat!” Remus yelled after her, before shooting Logan a grin. “How much more of a Karen could she be?”
Logan let out a surprised snort. “I must admit, you have this down.”
“Oh, I’m just getting started~”
Logan doubted Remus could get any worse than this, but a large part of him was rather excited to see him try.
-
Remus got so, so much worse. He insisted on sitting on Logans lap despite the whole sofa being free- and he did not blush because of it. Nope- and spoke loudly about how much he wanted to smoke.
When Logans father arrived, the ‘couple’ were met with a stare of confusion and, after a whisper in his ear from his mother, a glare. He cleared his throat. Logan looked up, but Remus just fiddled with a lock of his hair- something that definitely didn’t make him blush, either. His father cleared his throat again, and Remus seemed to acknowledge him.
“Oh, hi. You must be… Pat?”
“Matt.” He snapped, and Logan realised just how well it worked to get someones name wrong. “Aren’t you that kid Logan used to hang around? Real trouble maker, always in detention.”
“Sure am- guess you could say Lo and I have a long history.”
It was honestly impressive how pissed he looked already. Logan squirmed but, before this could get any worse, there was a loud bang behind them. Everyone turned to look, just in time to see his mother slam the plates down onto the table. “Dinner.”
Logan watched in awe as Remus strode up to the table and seated himself at the head, awkwardly shuffling after him. He saw his parents exchange a look, but they thankfully sat down, too.
The next few minutes were painfully quiet. His mother served up the food in a way that could only be described as aggressive, and his father glared at the wall ahead of him.
“You guys read Titus Andronicus?” Of course it was Remus to break the silence. When Logan realised nobody else would reply, and he’d have to continue… Whatever this conversation was, he shook his head.
“The Shakespeare play? I am afraid not.”
“Oh, shame.” Remus picked at the food. “This Roman war criminal, Titus, brings back like four prisoners whose family he brutalised and whatever. They’re kindaaa pissed so, as revenge, they kill a couple his sons and mutilate his daughter. He finds out and kills them, then cooks them into a pie and serves it to their mother. He’s killed by the emperor or whatever, but that’s not important. This just… Reminded me of that.” He poked the pie again.
Logans mother actually turned green. “I… Thought you were a vegan.” Was all she could think to say, thoroughly disgusted.
“That’s the thing about vegans!” Remus jiggled his fork in her direction. “We won’t eat animals or animal products, yeah? But we eat human products. Soooo, by that logic, we could eat a person, too.”
“Are you saying you’re a cannibal?” Logans father asked coldly, speaking for the first time since they sat down.
Remus shrugged in a way that concerned even Logan. “Just a hypothetical.”
“This boy’s a maniac.” Logan heard his mother mutter, and his fist curled around his cutlery. His knuckles turned white.
“Don’t.”
Everyone looked at Logan in surprise, Remus included, and he found himself going red- not from embarrassment, but anger.
“Excuse me? You bring a fucking… Deviant, like this, into our house, and then you have the nerve to speak to your mother like that? Apologise, right now.” Logans father snarled. He clutched the cutlery tighter.
“Only if she does.”
“This, uh, really isn’t necessary-” Remus whispered to him, cut off by a shrill laugh.
“That’s the first thing you’ve said all day to make any sense.” His mother spat.
“Probably.” Remus agreed, easily, and Logan stood up suddenly. His chair clattered to the ground.
“Don’t agree with them.”
Logans mother glared up him. “You sit down and stop this right this second”
For the first time in his life, Logan ignored her. “We are leaving.” He said coldly, grabbing Remus by the arm and storming out.
-
The second they were out of sight of the house, he stopped walking. He shut his eyes, pressed his back to the nearest wall, and slid down against it. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
He’d forgotten he wasn’t alone until Remus’ voice, uncharacteristically soft, called out “Lo..?”
He looked up, wiping at his eyes. “Apologies. That- none of it was fair on you.”
“What? No, I don’t give a shit about that. I signed up for it.” Remus dropped down next to him. “More concerned about you.”
“... Me?”
“Yeah, that was fuckin rough- just give the word and I’ll feed ‘em to the pigs, because damn.”
Logan laughed, a half sniffle. “I believe the phrase is ‘feed them to the fish’.”
“Well that’s stupid. Everyone knows you feed bodies to pigs.”
Logan decided not to question that… Instead, he hesitantly leant into Remus’ side. To his surprise, the other boy put an arm around him. “Specs?” He asked, after a minute.
“Hmm?” Logan shifted a little to meet Remus’ gaze.
“How come ya reacted so badly?”
Ah. Logan swallowed. He wasn’t too sure himself, really, but… “They had no right to speak to you like that.”
Remus stared at him quizzically, and Logan found himself meeting his gaze. They stayed like that, for longer than Logan cared to measure, before Remus finally asked, “Can I kiss you?”
For some reason, the question didn’t take Logan by surprise. He nodded and, grinning, Remus brought his mouth down to meet his.
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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 5 years ago
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Hi! I love your writing! Can you maybe write companions reacting to Shaun calling them mom/dad, maybe when theyre in trouble (like raiders attacking their settlement/home)? Have a good day!
Cait:
“Yeah! Get them mama!”
Had she not been any better with her reflexes, the little boy’s words may have ended up landing her missing a few teeth. There just so happened to be a raider dumb enough to try to break into your little home, so naturally..Cait goes in for the swinging once she made sure they didn’t have a gun on them.
With one final swift punch to the invaders head, Cait seized victory once again- and yet..all she could think about was the way that the child calling her that made her feel. She probably wouldn’t even outwardly acknowledge it- but once it was just the two of you in your own privacy, she’d confess that she was terrified.
Curie:
“Hey mom, do you need any help with the labs today? It looks really neat- I bet you could teach me all kinds of stuff.”
The second she heard what the little boy said, her heart swelled 10x in size just from pure joy. “Well of course you can, just make sure to wear the proper safety equipment, sweetheart.” She’d respond, giving Shaun a pair of safety glasses and wearing one of the sweetest, most proudest grins ever imaginable upon her face.
Danse:
Even though he wasn’t really a light sleeper, Danse had the ability to wake up as soon as someone entered the room. This was of course true when your son nudged the door open, his blanket slung messily over his shoulder and his eyes wide.
Once he realized who it was, Danse relaxed the slightest bit. “What’s wrong, Shaun?” He’d ask with a voice ladened with a hefty sleepiness.
“I-I’m scared, Dad. I had a nightmare and it- it just seemed..*sniffle*..it seemed so real.”
Suddenly the sleep would be knocked right of Paladin when his mind caught on to what the small child just said. Him? Dad?
Blinking away the shock, Danse tilted his head toward your peacefully sleeping body. “Here, come see son.” He’d urge with a yawn, waiting for the little boy to climb between you and him. Once snug, he’d then wrap his arm around the both of you.
Just when had he become so lucky?
Deacon:
“You’re really the best, Dad.”
Upon hearing such a bold assertion from the child, Deacon would stand in pause for just a mere moment. Chills would race up and down his spine as he stared down at the wondrously kind eyes lovingly peering back up at him. As much as he desired to keep looking back, a smirk would ghost his lips- thankfully he was able to concoct a little bullshit response on the fly.
“Yeah, ya ain’t too bad yourself either kiddo. You take after your dad.” He’d affectionately tease back, patting the child on the shoulder.
Gage:
If there was one thing that kids were, Gage learned that they were inquisitive little shits. Your own child was a testament to that statement. Just when Gage thought he could relax, up comes Shaun with an array of questions ready to shoot.
“Pa, why do you wear an eyepatch? Did something happen or are you just saving that eye’s strength?”
Gage coughed whenever he realized what Shaun used as his opener. Nuka-cola spurted from the raider’s nose, causing him to sputter as he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
“Come again?” He’d ask with one huge green eye, trying not to cough a lung up in the process.
He was happy though, even if he might’ve killed himself choking on nuka-cola.
Hancock:
It was honestly alerting to see how shocked he was that this happened. He knew goodneighbor was no place for his son but..he never expected this to happen. While down at the third rail, some deranged man came down demanding money- pulling out a gun as he spoke.
“Papa, please...are we going to be okay?” Shaun’s terrified eyes bore straight into the ghoul’s very soul, making his heart break despite how happy he should’ve felt after hearing those words.
Putting a hand atop the boy’s shoulder, Hancock made sure to keep both of their bodies below the table. “Of course we are kiddo, you just sit here and don’t make a sound.”
And with that, Hancock would spring up and shoot his way to safety- he had to. His son was there after all.
Macready:
Having two little boys in the house was already bad enough. Having two of them similar in age and just as troublesome as each other? Whew, it was an understatement to say that you and Mac had your plates full.
Luckily with his experience, things weren’t entirely hectic. Just like now..
You had managed to come home right on time to catch Mac mid-scolding. His hat nearly falling from his head as he cashed his gaze down at the pouting children in front of him .
“I don’t care how much fun it is, you two can’t go around spooking the neighbors. That’s the best way to get shot, for fu-..for Pete’s sake.” You couldn’t barely hold in your chuckle at your lover’s choice of words, since when had he become so dramatic?
“Sheesh, chill dad..” Shaun spoke, dismissing his adoptive father with a wave of his hand before he and Duncan promptly ran off- leaving a completely dumbfounded Mac to sit and process what just happened.
Did his two sons really just dismiss him like that? Did Shaun...did Shaun just call him dad?
Maxson:
It was all Maxson had wanted. This feeling of belonging..it was amazing. It was something that even the brotherhood and all it’s devoted members couldn’t provide him.
“Hey Dad, you alright?” Shaun’s little voice pierced through Arthur in a way that wasn’t at all painful, yet somehow hit him like a freight train.
It was then that Maxson realized he had been staring, jaw hanging. “W-what? No, I mean..yes, yes I’m alright Shaun. Is everything okay?” Real smooth, don’t worry, Arthur promptly begins to beat himself up over it.
Though confused, Arthur was so, so very happy.
Nick:
“Da, are you coming or what?”
Immediately, Nick assumed he had overheated. Surely there was no possible way Shaun was calling him...no. Blinking a few times, one could even hear the low whir of his servos fire up as he tried to process what just happened. Once he finally realized that yes, that was indeed reality- a huge smile would grace the synth’s face in response. In an attempt not to “lose his cool”, Nick would just simply nod and follow along- replaying the entire thing in his head over and over again.
Old Longfellow:
He had expected “Grandpa” before he got a “dad” out of the little boy, if he even got that! Honestly he didn’t expect much, he loved the kid but..come on, he’s some old man kissing up on the child’s mama/papa. With that being said, for the first time in quite a while, joy like sparklers- erupted all throughout the old man’s body whenever Shaun tugged his coat one rainy day and-
“Can I please come with you, pa? I’ll need to learn how to fix those condensers up one day anyways!”
Piper:
Piper, of all people, didn’t really think she’d be so happy being so..so domestic. Not a single article written, not a single story hunted down for the day or anything- just family time. Just you, her, Nat, and Shaun.
Much like your day, the night also consisted of this calmness. Only coming to an end whenever it was officially bed time.
“I love you ma, good night.” Shaun sleepily muttered, turning around in the process so he could get comfortable and ready to sleep.
That was probably for the best, for as soon as she heard those magical little words, Piper’s eyes welled with tears without warning- only spilling whenever she was back in the comfort of her own room with you at her side.
Preston:
“Pa, are you sure you and mom won’t be gone for too long?”
The words stopped Preston dead in his tracks. Yes, it was his duty as your lieutenant- and your own as General, to respond to distress calls whenever they were made..so that unfortunately left your poor son in the care of your other companions more often than you’d like- more so, more than Preston would care for.
It was things like this that made him consider retiring all together.
Turning around, Preston would kneel down in front of the child, happiness shining in a luminous way within his dark eyes. “I..I promise you that we’ll be back before you even miss us, son.”
“Impossible, I miss you and mama already.”
Sturges:
“Dad, I’m scared..”
The very second he heard the little boy trembling in his arms whisper, the synth man felt cold fear flow through his veins. Raiders, always fucking raiders.
It was normal at this point for them to show up every now and then, usually you’d just chase them off with your flashy guns and whatnot- and you were doing that- but while you were out being the hero, it was Sturges prime duty to ensure shaun’s safety. As such, he’d take the little boy to their usual hiding spot and try to get him to be quiet...but that? That was enough to make him want to personally go out there and rip a raiders head off. How dare they scare his..his son?
“Shhh, I’ve gotcha little buddy..you just hang in tight.”
X6-88:
(I honestly don’t see how this could happen with Shaun in particular- even with the whole au I use with Maxson and Shaun dynamics- Shaun would still know X6 as that cool dude that teleported him back and forth.)
-sorry this took so long, hope you liked it.
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adenei · 4 years ago
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Day 4: January Word Challenge
A/N: This one is a Romione Half Blood Prince AU that is actually a follow up to “Why, are you scared of loving?” I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, so here we are.
**********
Stars
It was later in the evening when Hermione found herself with Ron outside once more, watching the sun set over the pond. She put the day’s earlier conversation behind her, and was trying to enjoy the time with her best friend. It was hard to concentrate in his proximity. 
She’d sneak sideways glances at his features when he wasn’t looking. The way his blue eyes sparkled in the setting sunlight, and the contrast of his red hair against his pale, freckly skin. It was cruel how attractive he was. Hermione found herself thinking often about what it might feel like to feel the hard muscles of his body against hers, with his arms wrapped around her. She never thought she’d appreciate quidditch quite this way, but thank Godric for what it had added to his physique.
Hermione tried to shake herself out of those thoughts. You’re only making it worse. There’s no way someone like him could ever fall for someone like you. And yet, here they were, watching the night sky appear before them, ready to gaze at the stars that would soon shine down over the Burrow. Wasn’t that something that couples did?
“It’s nice out tonight, isn’t it? Not too hot, for once,” he said, breaking the silence around them.
“Yes, it is quite comfortable. Though, I’m worried that when night sets in I’ll be a bit chilled.” English weather had a knack for that.
Ron couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll never understand how you can always be cold.” 
Hermione smiled as the last curve of sunlight slipped away, covering the Burrow in twilight. “It’s just how I’ve always been.”
“Well, it’s a good thing our school uniform makes us wear those robes everywhere. I’ve noticed the castle gets really drafty at night when we’re on rounds.”
“Yes, it does. I actually joked with Mum one summer about adding a fleece liner in one set to keep me warmer.”
“You and your muggle ways. Just use a warming charm,” Ron suggested.
“But then everyone would know I’m constantly cold if they walked by,” Hermione said. 
She wasn’t really sure why, but she felt like arguing with him. Not real arguing, of course, but in that playful banter that she’d come to crave from their friendship. 
“Why would that matter?” Ron asked inquisitively.
“It wouldn’t, but it’d be another reminder that I’ll no doubt be alone as everyone else in our year pairs off.”
Ron looked at her. “What makes you say that?”
Hermione gave him a slight shrug of her shoulders. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure what she meant. She was thinking about her dorm mates and the other students in their year starting relationships the previous year. She knew it wasn’t true, but some days she felt like she was the only one on her own, and was none the wiser on how to alleviate that particular issue.
“Just because Harry had a go with Cho for a bit, and Ginny seems to have blokes lined up to take her out doesn’t mean everyone’s getting together,” Ron said, pulling her out of her thoughts.
Hermione scrunched her eyebrows in question at him. “Since when are you suddenly okay with Ginny’s dating life?”
“ ‘M not, but I reckon I’ll get hexed far worse than any guy who comes onto her if I don’t leave it.”
“Smart choice.”
“May not say the same for you though,” he muttered.
“Excuse me?” Hermione wasn’t sure if she’d heard him right. “Last I checked, I’m not your sibling, and I don’t think I need protecting.”
“Well, you are my best friend and I don’t want any bloke thinking he can take advantage of you.”
“Who’s to say I can’t handle myself?” Hermione felt her cheeks flush. This was not where she hoped the conversation would lead, but it’s what she got for playing with fire.
“I’m not saying that! You don’t know what the other guys- you know what? Nevermind. It’s not important,” Ron cut himself off.
“The other guys what, Ron? You can’t just cut off mid sentence like that.”
He gave her a look that clearly said, ‘did you just hear yourself?’ Okay, so she’d been guilty of doing that a lot over the years. She waited impatiently for him to answer, but when he did, it wasn’t what she was expecting.
“You know, we’ll probably see some shooting stars tonight.” He had changed the subject completely.
Hermione huffed as she lay quietly on her back, and took in a deep breath of the dewey air around them. She watched the sky as Ron laid down beside her. He was close, and she could feel the heat of his hand and arm against her own.
More and more stars appeared as the sky grew darker. It always amazed Hermione with how many they could see out in the country. It was so different from the city life she’d grown up in.
They must have been looking in the same spot at the same time, just as a faint flash darted across the sky. “Look, there! Did you see it? Shooting star, make a wish,” Ron said eagerly.
Hermione nodded as she smiled. His excitement was contagious. “Yes, I did.” She closed her eyes and made her wish. When she opened them she saw Ron had propped himself up on his elbows.
“So, what’d you wish for?” She could barely make out his lopsided grin from the faint glow of the lights in the house behind them as he asked the question.
“I can’t tell you that. Everyone knows if you share your wish it won’t come true,” Hermione laughed as she rolled her eyes at him.
“So, that means your wish is something that can happen?” Ron teased her. Her face fell slightly, and she could tell he regretted his words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just something my brothers would say to Ginny and I when we’d all come out here. It was just a way to get us to give away our wishes.”
“No, you’re right. Wishes are just that,” Hermione said with a sigh. “No one could ever want me anyways.” She figured that even if he didn’t share the same feelings for her, she could trust him with that piece of information. He was her best friend, after all.
“What?” Ron asked, his tone serious now.
“Nevermind, it’s nothing. I just wished that I might get a boyfriend of my own this year. See what all the fuss is about.”
“That’s not impossible, though.” Ron said quietly.
Hermione gave a most ungirly like snort. “Have you looked at me lately? I’m not exactly Lavender and Parvati. Who in their right mind would choose me when I’ve got those two as my dorm mates?”
“Hermione, does this have anything to do with what we talked about earlier?”
“What do you mean?” There I go again, all but pouring my soul out to you and you completely change the subject by bringing up a different conversation, Hermione thought. 
“The whole scared of falling in love thing.”
“I’m not following, Ron,” Hermione was stifling back the scream of frustration she desperately wanted to let out. Could she ever get a straight answer out of him?
“Just what you said about not measuring up to the other girls, which I don’t think is true, by the way, and what you mentioned about being scared to fall for someone who doesn’t fancy you back.”
Hermione thought about what Ron had said. Maybe she didn’t give him enough credit. Those two things were definitely related. “I guess you’re right.”
“Well, I wouldn’t pass it off. You never know...the person you fancy might surprise you,” he said as he looked back up at the sky.
She was gaping at him. Did he know? Had she given herself away? The sheer panic was enough to make her want to jump up and run back into the house and avoid him for the rest of the night. Miraculously, though, she stayed rooted in her spot. And perhaps even more amazingly, she came up with a witty retort. 
“And how would I know if that person fancied me back?”
She heard him take a deep breath in and exhale slowly. “Well, for one, he’d enjoy spending time with you. Even if it meant giving up a whole beautiful afternoon to revise in the library.” 
Her mind was instantly thrown back to the week before O.W.L’s. She was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and Ron had offered to go with her to the library to help her study. It was one of the few times he’d offered instead of being asked. Hermione felt her heart begin to beat faster in his chest as she waited for him to continue.
“He’d also make sure you weren’t overworking yourself because you have a tendency to do that, you know. Making sure you take breaks, actually show up and eat your meals. Oh, and even though you don’t need any more to do, he’d still help with the crazy groups you think up.” Ron grinned at her.
She had no doubt in her mind that he was referring to S.P.E.W. and the DA. “Anything else?”
“Well, I’ve been told that it’s fairly telling if a bloke gets a girl some fancy, personal gift for her birthday or Christmas. Might mean a bit more than, say, a planner.” His eyes averted her gaze at this last one, but she could hear the playful sincerity in his voice as she thought back to the bottle of perfume he’d given her for Christmas.
“Ron…” she said in almost a whisper. It was quiet, save for the rustling of the trees in the soft breeze and the occasional cricket in the field beyond. She was sure that he heard her.
“I’d say those are pretty good ideas of whether someone fancies you or not. You wouldn’t happen to have any tips for me, would you?”
Hermione stared at him. Her brain was past the point of mush and she couldn’t even begin to comprehend putting something so clever together without spilling her heart out to him. “Only one thing comes to mind,” she said softly.
“Yeah? Are you gonna share, or keep that secret to yourself?” Ron asked her.
Hermione closed her eyes and hoped what she was about to say wouldn’t backfire on her. “My suggestion would be to show her how you feel...because she feels the same way.”
Neither had realized that their faces had inched closer together throughout the entire conversation. Hermione glanced briefly down at Ron’s lips before she looked up and met his eyes with her own, bravely searching for any understanding reflecting back at her. Whatever her next thought was about to be, she’d never know as she felt Ron draw closer to her. Her eyes fluttered closed as his lips softly brushed her own.
That first encounter was tentative, but when Ron realized Hermione wasn’t pulling away, he leaned in again, more confident as he pressed his lips into hers. Hermione returned the kiss, though carefully trying to not come across as too eager. Gradually, they found a rhythm with the kiss, and neither wanted the moment to end.
Eventually, they did break apart, knowing that they should head inside before Mrs. Weasley came calling for them or sent someone out to stumble upon them. “We should head inside,” Ron said, as if someone needed to say what they were both thinking.
They stood up, and Ron reached out his hand and Hermione took it. She couldn’t help but smile as they walked back towards the house. Looks like wishes do come true, after all.
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hellflame-for-a-reason · 4 years ago
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Private tutoring
Lesson one: The safety check
"I'm sorry if I've done anything wrong ma'am, I hope everything's alright." Tenya Iida carefully approached the desk.
The r-rated pro hero Midnight was sitting in the chair behind the desk, looking at him. "You're not in trouble sweetie, just sit down, rest those pretty little legs of yours."
Tenya was used to people commenting on his legs so he didn't pay any mind to it, taking a seat behind one of the student desks. "What did you want to speak with me about then Ms Kayama?"
"Ugh," she shuddered, "don't be so formal Tenya! You've known me since you were little, what happened to calling me 'miss nemu'?"
"You're a teacher, I'm merely showing my respect."
"Ok well this conversation isn't part of my job so you don't have to respect me; it's either Midnight or Miss Nemu out of school hours, alright Tenya?"
"Yes ma'am," Tenya sighed, bowing his head in respect, "so what is the topic of this conver then? If not school?"
Midnight smirked at that, leaning back and putting her feet up on the desk. Tenya suddenly felt an urge to lecture her but bit it back, knowing that she might not want to be treated like a teacher, he should still show her some respect. "That boy in your class; the green haired one, you like him don't you?"
Oh no, Tenya could feel his face heating up, and clearly it had turned a certain colour too if Midnight's reaction had anything to do with it. She laughed and whooped, "I knew it! Ha! You act the exact same way Tensei does when he's got a crush."
"I…" he stood, the light glinting off his glasses and hiding his eyes, "I have to object! This line of questioning is extremely inappropriate, I must ask you to stop."
"Calm down Tenya, sit down." She sighed, waving a hand dismissively, "I'm not going to say anything about your personal choices, and I won't say anything judgemental about your taste in men out loud. I just want to give you some advice in approaching him, alright?"
A sigh, "alright Midnight, what should I do?' Tenya didn't think he could argue with her much more than he already had, so he just sat down and shut up. Maybe her advice would be helpful, although considering her status, he doubted it.
"Well the first thing you need to figure out is how much do you like him? Are you thinking long term or just a fling?"
Tenya hadn't actually considered that, he knew that he had a rather large crush but he had never really allowed himself to fantasize too much. "I'm not sure ma'am, I never really thought about it."
Midnight sighed at that for a second time, "well I can work with that I suppose, it might be a little more difficult but not to worry, you're speaking to an expert." She picked up some chalk and began to write on the board, "phase one," she spoke as she wrote it down, "finding out if he likes guys and making him think about you more often."
Oh, so they were treating this like an extra subject? Ok then, Tenya could handle this. He took out a notebook, always good for studying, and found an empty page, copying down what Midnight had written. She continued to speak and he took notes in bullet points, "taking notes? Okay great. Now I don't know much about how to tell if someone's gay but personally I think your best course of action is to start the conversation in a group, I don't mean you have to come out. Like… maybe ask a group of people in the common area if they think anyone in the class is gay?"
"But Midnight?" Tenya had spotted an issue with that plan almost instantly, "what if he's in the closet? He might not want to say anything."
"Hm, you have a point there, I suppose you could go the celebrity crush route; get him alone or around people he trusts in a casual conversation and bring up the idea of celebrity crushes, asking him about his. It's probably best to say something yourself at that point, to at least make him aware of your persuasion."
Tenya nodded, that sounded like a really good idea. Obviously he was a little nervous about trying it out but Midnight was an expert so he definitely wasn't going to challenge her authority. He quickly made his notes, wondering if it would seem out of character for him to ask about that kind of thing. "How would I make him think about me then?"
"Show him that you think about him. Send him pictures of animals or flowers or clouds that remind you of him, if you see something in a shop that makes you think of him, buy it for him. Just anything you can do to ensure that his first instinct when he thinks of you is fondness."
He very quickly noted that down, very grateful for her advice, "that makes sense, thank you ma'am. Is there anything else I need to know?"
"I don't think so, no, you may go back to your dorms now. Good luck Tenya." Midnight smiled at him and opened the door for him to leave, she watched as he gathered his things to leave and hummed in thought, "how is your brother by the way? I haven't spoken to Tensei since before his...ah, *early retirement.*"
Tenya froze at that last part, sighing and adjusting his glasses, "Tensei is well, his recovery went well. Thank you for your concern."
"Does he still have the same number?"
"Yes, I believe so."
"Great!" She clapped her hands together, "you have fun, good luck. I'm going to go try out some of my own advice." Midnight chuckled as she pushed him out the door, one hand already reaching for the phone on her desk.
"Thank you ma'am," he sighed, leaning against the door after she'd shut it, he sighed. Great, Midnight was off to hit on his brother whilst Tenya was tasked with doing the same to Midoriya, and heaven knows she's got a lot more experience and skills than him. He's definitely going to need all the luck he can get.
After school finished, Tenya slowly made his way back to the dorms. He sat himself down on the sofa after grabbing a glass of orange juice, allowing himself to relax. Midoriya sat next to him, with Todoroki on the other side of him, "how are you doing Iida? You've been a bit on edge since lunch."
"Ah? Oh yeah, yeah I'm fine… don't worry about it, Midoriya, I'm fine." He sighs, offering a gentle smile, "just thinking about my studies, didn't realise I was behaving strangely." In truth, Tenya was simply nervous about this first step, he didn't know if this would work, but he was definitely risking his own safety to do this. He just hoped it would work, and that if it did work, that it worked in his favour. Sadly he just sat there in silence for an hour, going over the pros and cons of bringing this up. One on hand people would automatically assume he was a homosexual, and correctly so, but that could be dangerous, but on the other hand it might not be. Even if Midoriya was of that persuasion, there was no guarantee he'd say anything, or that he'd like Tenya.
The fear was almost enough to prevent him from saying anything, but he didn't want to disappoint Midnight, so he had to. He glanced over the scene before him; Bakugo and Midoriya were bickering over some stupid thing, probably about All Might, Uraraka and Todoroki were playing noughts and crosses whilst Ashido did Tsu's nails on the floor, Kaminari's nails were currently drying and Kaminari was next in line. It was a lovely scene, not often did their friend groups merge like this and Tenya was almost scared to disturb it. He cleared his throat regardless and didn't meet any of their eyes, "I can't help but to wonder," he paused for a moment, realising that what he was about to say would come out of left field for them, so maybe he should have tried to soften the blow, "do you think anyone in our class is of a different persuasion?"
"Eh?"
"He means gay Bakubro," Kirishima spoke up, leaning back against the beanbag, "I mean, I think I am, yeah I'm probably gay." He shrugged, clearly not believing this to be that big of a deal.
"Why the hell didn't you just say gay then? Stupid fuckin' shitty glasses," Bakugo huffs, crossing his arms and glaring up at Tenya, "well I'm not telling you anything, it's none of your business."
Mina huffed at that, "oh don't be such a dick," she proceeded to smile up at Tenya sweetly, "I'm bi!"
"Same!" Came a chorus from Uraraka, Kaminari and, most importantly: Midoriya. Tenya knew was bi meant, it meant bisexual, a persuasion in which one is attracted to more then one gender. This was a good thing, it meant that he did have a chance with Midoriya, but it didn't necessarily mean he was his type, so obviously more research would be needed.
"I'm a lesbian! Ribbit." Tsu spoke up, smiling and licking her lips before continuing to watch Mina paint her nails a lovely shade of green, with a different pattern on her thumbs.
Todoroki peered over, staring at Tenya with the kind of inquisitive look that almost scared him, "and I'm a homosexual, what about you, Iida? What's your persuasion?"
"For fucks sake! Just say sexuality! God damn, do all rich people talk like this?!" Bakugo didn't seem to enjoy this discussion, and Tenya couldn't blame him; although he was the one who had brought it up, he was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable. It seemed Midnight had been wrong, this plan would push him into telling his friends his sexuality, but he couldn't feel hurt by that, as that was what he had asked them.
"Mine?" He queried, pushing back having to answer for another second, unsure how to word it, "oh, yes of course… my persuasion…" oh he really didn't want to answer this question, so he continued to stall.
"Yeah, if you asked us that question you gotta answer it too," Kirishima spoke up, still very casual, Mina on the other hand, looked more empathic, smiling softly.
"Iida… do you-"
"I," he interrupted her, not on purpose but he just wasn't registering that she had spoken, "I personally happen to be an, uh… homosexual?" One hand went to the side of his neck whilst the other adjusted his glasses, still not meeting any of their eyes. He wasn't sure how speaking this truth made him feel, he was more then scared of their reactions, despite knowing they were the same.
"Ooohh!" Uraraka piped up, "is that why you started this conversation? Because you wanted to tell us?" She looked so pleased, even proud of him and Tenya felt a little guilty about his less then pure motives for doing such. Although the more he actually thought about it, the more it shook him to his core that he did indeed just officially come out to his classmates.
Oh god.
"I… I suppose so…" he looked at her, head lowered slightly, "I hope you aren't too mad?"
"Why would we be mad, Iida? It's perfectly fine, I think it was quite clever of you to test the waters first." She reached over both Todoroki and Midoriya to pat him gently on the shoulder, he smiled at her in response, glad that everything was fine.
Midoriya beamed at him, "I hope you're proud of yourself, Iida, cause that must have been hard to say."
"It, it was," he nodded, smiling in return. Tenya felt the butterflies that everyone spoke about and he felt fuzzy all over, Midoriya had such an adorable smile and it was almost fatal. This boy would be the death of him.
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incongruousstrawberry · 4 years ago
Text
Magnets pt. 1 (Kuroo Tetsuro x f!reader)
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Word count: 1.9k.
Tags: none.
Summary: During your third year of high school, you get acquainted with a very charming boy. How will things evolve?
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Kuroo Tetsurou was definitely a popular guy. Tall, athletic, with beautiful but weirdly cut hair, he always had a predatory sneer that made everyone shrink in his presence. Everyone except you. The reason was that, unlike most other people, you had fortuitously got the chance to discover that under that cocky and strict air he always showed around there was something else.
After your second year of high school, you had to transfer to a new school, Nekoma High. On the first day you had left home a bit too early, so you decided to take it easy on the way there, walking slowly and observing your surroundings in order to get a better view of your new city. While doing so, your attention was caught by a voice coming from your left. You turned your head toward that direction and saw a small green space, in the middle of which stood a crouched boy and a tiny white and brown dog. The boy had a weird haircut that reminded you slightly of a rooster and he was talking to the puppy while petting him profusely.
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you? My little good boy, you like when Kuroo pets you, don’t you? What a good boy you are.” The tone of the boy was the usual ridiculous high-pitched tone people use when they talk to puppies and babies, and the thing clashed hilariously with his outer rebellious appearance.
After a moment of affectionate tones, the boy noticed that you were observing him and his face darkened briefly. After leaving the dog alone and after inspecting you from the bottom to the top (he was still crouched), he stood up and walked toward you, assuming an attitude that you soon discovered was his default one.
“You attend Nekoma High, don’t you?” he asked confidently, recognising your uniform.
“Yes,” you simply replied.
“How is it that I’ve never seen you before?” His tone was inquisitional and somehow it seemed like he deemed it impossible that he could not know every single person (or maybe girl) in the school.
“I’ve just transferred. Today will be my first day,” you replied, a little annoyed by the way the boy was towering over you now that he was standing and scanning you.
“Oh, which class?”
“3A.”
A pensive expression played across the boy’s face. “You don’t say…” Then he started walking, turning distractedly toward you with a gaze that you immediately recognised as a way to say “follow me”.
Since you had to go in the same direction, you were left no choice but to walk together with him, but you felt a bit strange about the change in the attitude of the boy. You wondered if he was the type of person who constantly wanted to make an impression.
In truth, you had soon discovered that to simply put it, Kuroo Tetsurou was a person with a thousand facets. Sometimes he was arrogant, but other times he was extremely humble; sometimes he could be a bit of a dick, but at times he could also be surprisingly kind; sometimes it seemed like he didn’t care about people that much, other times he almost seemed maternal. There was one thing that was constant, though, and that was that having to deal with him was always fun. And it was particularly fun when the boy was dumbfounded by the fact that you, unlike most of the girls in the school, didn’t hang on his words.
It wasn’t like you didn’t notice the remarkable charm of the boy, but you had imposed upon yourself to keep a certain distance at least until you had the chance to get to know him better.
Being classmates had been a source of information, but you had the impression he wasn’t completely himself in that environment. New clues started to arrive the first time he invited you to watch one of his friendly matches. He had heard you telling a friend and classmate that you were free that afternoon and he had immediately taken advantage of that, saying that you couldn’t miss the chance to see the great volleyball team of Nekoma High.
Sceptical, but curious, you had accepted the invite and followed the boy to the gym, where he had briefly introduced you to his teammates, and particularly to Kenma, who you later discovered was his best friend.
While the boys had gone into the locker room to change, you had found a place on the bleachers and shortly after a parade of boys in red had appeared in front of you. Needless to say, red suited him. The other team arrived soon and, after a bit of warming-up, the match began.
You had watched some matches on the TV, but looking at the movements of the players from up-close was rather exciting and you soon realised that Kuroo was a very good player. He had scored many points with his serves, strikes and blocks, but that wasn’t all. Even if he had neglected to mention it, he was the captain of the team and you had had the chance to overhear the speech he had delivered to his teammates. It was something about blood and bringing oxygen to the brain. It had seemed quite peculiar but at the same time…
BOOM. You got hit by a ball in the face, on your left eyebrow to be precise. You hadn’t had the time to avoid it because you were completely lost in thought and you had seen it just at the very last moment. The boy who had hit the ball last - you discovered later that it had been a receive gone bad - apologised over and over for a while and then the match continued normally, but you had noticed the worried expression of your voluminous haired friend.
After the match, Kuroo had insisted on walking you home and, as soon as you had gone far enough from the school, he had taken you aside and caressed your temple gently, making you stare at his dark eyes in surprise.
“Does it hurt?” he asked you, concern clouding his eyes.
“No, I think it’s just slightly swollen. I haven’t had a chance to check my face in a mirror yet, but maybe it’s better this way,” you said with a chuckle.
“Damned Yaku, of all the days he had to make that mistake today…” Kuro seemed upset and moved his hand, gesturing while talking.
You stopped one of his hands by gently taking his wrist in your hand. “Kuroo, everything’s alright. By tomorrow I won’t even remember this happened.” You smiled. “Furthermore, that guy played like a god today, so I really don’t think you can get mad at him.”
Kuroo gave you a suspicious look and started walking again. “Is that so? And what do you think about me then?”
You followed him, walking side by side. “Mmh… let me think…” You were playing. You knew that Kuroo wanted to hear you said that he was good, but it was funny to make him suffer just a little.
The boy looked at you sideways. “If you talk like this, you make me start to think that maybe you deserved being hit by that ball.”
You laughed and then finally replied. “You’ve played very well, Kuroo. I’m no expert in volleyball but watching you play was very interesting.”
While you walked and looked at the little shops you were passing by, you smiled and the lights of the windows reflected in your eyes. “Mmh…” you pondered for a moment.
“What is it?” he asked, interested.
“That speech about blood… could you explain it to me? I couldn’t hear the whole of it.” You turned briefly toward him and glimpsed a hint of surprise in his eyes.
“Oh… it’s just a speech I make before we start the match to psych up the others.”
“Yeah, I got that part, but what does it mean?”
“Well, in our team the essential element is Kenma. Not just because he’s the setter, but also because he has an incredible analytical capacity that allows him to always choose the best strategies.” Kuro looked at you for a moment and then brought his gaze in front of him again. “For this reason, he is the brain. And we, his teammates, have the responsibility to make the ball arrive at him in the best way possible, like the oxygen must flow in the blood. This way he can play to the best of his capabilities. That’s all.” The boy put his hands in his pockets.
You pondered for a moment. “I understand. It makes sense now that you say it,” you paused for a second, already smiling internally, “you surely couldn’t have been referring to yourself when you talked about the brain.” You had pronounced the sentence in a perfectly serious tone, so serious that Kuroo had needed a moment before understanding that you were teasing him.
“Y/n!” he exclaimed in a scolding tone, turning at you.
“Hey, I have never given you the permission to call me by my first name, you know?”
The boy said nothing and replied with a crafty expression instead and then turned his gaze back in front of him, sighing and walking faster, as if you weren’t there anymore.
You quickened your pace in order to keep up with him and nudged him lightly. “I was kidding. As much as I’d like to affirm the contrary, you’re not dumb.”
The boy didn’t turn at you, pretending to be offended, but slowed down his pace so that you could start walking normally again.
After a while, you arrived in front of your house. “We’re here,” you said gesturing at your house. “I still don’t get why you wanted to accompany me home since you live on the opposite side of town. It will take you forever to get home now.” You were close to your gate, the feet together and your gaze towards your shoes.
“I clearly did it because I like you. Wasn’t it obvious at this point?” the boy replied with a candour only he could muster.
You felt a clench in your stomach and raised your eyes, meeting those of the boy. For a moment you had thought that he was joking – you had always thought that the interest he had shown to you was just a friendly fondness – but his face was terribly serious.
You tried to say something, but your voice got stuck and your mouth remained half-open,  without a single sound coming out of it.
“I’d like to kiss you now, y/n,” said Kuroo, his eyes intense and fixed on you.
You remained speechless once more, your breathing passing quickly in and out of your mouth.
Kuroo leaned forward – his dark eyes hadn’t left you a single instant – and kissed you. The kiss lasted about three seconds and it was a simple kiss, just a contact between your lips, but it was enough to make your head spin. Then the boy straightened himself, shot you his signature sneer and took a step back. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I expect you to be a bit more… talkative.” The sneer got bigger and even before he turned around and started walking home a red hue began to spread across your face and a smile rose slowly until your cheeks started looking like small knobs.
Part 2
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