#dunno if ill write another fic about it but its like... the other side of math/bilingual zoro headcanons to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

danicarosaline · 4 years

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Green is not a good colour on you ya know?

𝙹𝙹 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

The anon request: hi your writing is adorable, can i have jj x reader maybe she gets jealous of a new girl that joins the group bc jj is suddenly into the girl? but thats only bc his hiding his true feelings for reader😌 thank yu have a good day✨💕

Warnings: swear words here and there

A/N: so this fic wasn’t suppose to be as long as it is but i was bored and got carried away okay🙄 hope you like it though, its not the best but since its done ill post it anyways!!

Your ears perk up at the sound of an annoying, girlish giggle, making you cringe internally. Even with the heavy feeling in your gut and the tightness of your chest, there is a dainty smile plastered on your face as you turned your body to face Pope and laugh along with whatever he was saying.

It was about 1:30pm, sun shining bright and hot as ever out here in the Outer Banks and JJ had an arm thrown over a pretty brunette you have come to know as Minnie, Sarah’s cousin.

The seven of you are all situated together in a circle on the massive picnic rug you bought for sale the other day and it was surprisingly a cheap sale, despite the quality of its material and sizing. Recalling the groans of the boys when you tossed the heavy thing on top of them and the stunned expressions on Kie and Sarah’s face when they saw the cute blue picnic rug. You smiled at the memory.

It was definitely one of the best purchases you made, fitting all of you on the rug and the group has been using it for beach days ever since.

You turned away from Pope and joined in the conversation that Kie and Sarah were having next to you whilst Pope distracted himself with John B.

The topic was getting interesting and you were about to voice out your opinion when the sudden sound of Minnie’s loud laugh distracted you. Making your eye twitch in irritation. Minnie laughed as JJ began to tickle her.

Sarah noticed your hasty change of demeanour, the sour look on your face was evident, as clear as the sky and it would have made her laugh if it wasn’t for the fact that she saw the usual twinkle in your pretty eyes disappeared when your gaze on JJ and Minnie lingered a tad bit too long, reaking of obvious jealousy.

The group was well aware of your feelings for JJ.

The hot headed idiot has feelings for you too, they assumed, since he’s always been unnecessarily protective of you the most and had constantly flirted with you but even so, no one knows how the blond truly feels.

Especially now that Minnie started hanging out with the group.

Sarah was beyond excited at the news of her favourite cousin visiting the Outer Banks for a few weeks. She immediately introduced her to you and the pogues when Minnie arrived but now that excitement is slowly dying down when she’s been observing her best friend's mood shift from joyful to bitter whenever Minnie glued herself onto JJ.

Though you did try to hide it at first but Sarah knew you and saw right through the facade, having to be your best friend since kindergarten, there was nothing she did not know about you and eventually Kie caught on aswell.

Sarah wasn’t expecting JJ and Minnie to hit it off quite well though, Minnie had mentioned a supposed boyfriend when she called a month ago and now Sarah is just confused. They must’ve broken up? The Cameron girl thought.

“Lookin’ a little green there Y/n” Sarah blinked, eyes turned away from you to Kie who has a smirk set on her lips. You tore your attention away from the two losers flirting and looked at Kie.

“What? Kie, shut up” you scoff, instantly understanding what she meant. Sarah then begins to giggle, flinging a grape your way and joining in on the teasing.

“Green is not a good colour on you, ya know?” Sarah adds and you roll your eyes, bringing the bottle of beer up to your lips. Eyes steady set on the waves ahead crashing onto the shore with a soft hiss, hoping for the waves to get bigger and swallow you and only you, whole.

“you’re lookin’ alot like this grape right here babe” Kie quips and the said grape is thrown at your head. you groan and shove her with your shoulder, only making her laugh.

“Green? But Y/n looks good in green” JJ declares as he now joins in on the conversation, interrupting Pope who was in the middle of discussing his thoughts on a rare plant that he discovered on the internet. Your heart flutters at the compliment. “Forest green goes well with your skin tone the best” he continued.

Messy blond hair shining golden under the sun and his baby blue eyes are lighter than usual but it must’ve been that perfect tan he’s got going, making the colour of his eyes pop and more apparent. Blood rushed to your cheeks and you’re not sure if it was from the compliment: or from how beautiful JJ looks at this very moment.

Having caught on JJ's stare and his sweet smile, you miss the knowing glances the pogues shared with each other and just as you were about to reply to the blond, Minnie broke the silence with a giggle, making you cringe internally for the thousand time.

“I agree with JJ, i really liked that green crop top, long sleeved you wore the other day!” she said genuinely.

Head tilted to the side and showing off a toothy smile, the whiteness of her perfect teeth blinding you a little. You don’t hate Minnie, not at all. Hate is such a strong word and you would never use it on anyone. Maybe except Rafe, the guy was a douche.

Minnie has been nothing but kind to you and the others the whole three weeks she’s been here. She’s the definition of charming. Minnie holds beauty and grace, she’s talented and smart. You would say that she was everything you aren’t but that's a load of BS.

You are just as beautiful from head to toe, just as talented and smart, and a sense of humour, the kind that fits well with all different types of personalities of others.

You don’t have a single bad bone in your body so why were you jealous of Minnie? A girl who is not gonna be in the Outer Banks for any longer than a month? It is because she has JJ Maybank wrapped around her pretty finger just after a day of her being around.

Whilst for you, it had taken JJ a month to get properly used to your presence and another month for him to warm up and get to know you better.

It had taken two whole months for you to prove to him that you weren’t just some privileged, snobby, all good for nothing kook and after a while it had led you and the boy to a much closer, deeper friendship.

Then eventually you fall in deep. Deep into his captivating eyes and exciting personality. You fell in love with JJ Maybank.

You gave one of your best smiles to Minnie and thanked her kindly, eyes darting back to JJ who was still peering at you with a tender smile.

Minnie quickly caught on the lingering looks held between you and JJ. She didn’t like that, not one bit. She likes you, don’t get it twisted. She just saw you as a competition.

“so Y/n.. I saw you with Todd the other day?” She interrupted your moment.

You raised a brow with a slight tilt of your head, confused. You try to relive all the times you’ve bump into Todd recently but the only time you could remember was last week, when you both bonded over milkshakes and fries.“Wait Todd? As in, Todd Nelson?” Pope questioned.

“Why were you with Todd Y/n?” John B’s voice piped up, tugging Sarah closer to his body so she was practically sitting on top of him.

“Isn’t he kinda weird?”

“Yeah! i heard he has some kind of foot fetish but i dunno?“

“He’s pretty hot though?”

“Well i think you would make a cute couple-“

“Oh my gosh guys would you shush!” You announce, waving your arms in the air. “He’s not a weirdo and no he doesn’t have a foot fetish Sarah, what the hell?”

“Well it’s what i heard from Rafe-“

“Can we not talk about Todd right now?” JJ groaned in frustration, running his clad ring fingers through his tousled hair. A tight grip on the beer in his left hand.

“Aight JJ chill, what’s up your ass?” John B laughed as he found the annoyed look on the blond’s face quite funny, the pogues thought JJ’s disdain for Todd was amusing as heck because the male was obsessed with you and it irritated JJ (not that you knew that) and when John B pointed it out, JJ just shrugged it off with a dumb excuse that was “he’s too jacked up with muscles, he looks like a cloud” you laughed at the blond comparing Todd to a cloud. You honestly found JJ adorable when he was annoyed.

Your heart twisted when you saw Minnie linking her fingers with JJ’s and caressed his arm, comforting him like she was his girlfriend or something. Your face felt hot and you knew you were mad. You felt ashamed of feeling this way but it wasn’t like you could help it.

As a good friend of his you should be supportive and accepting, you should have been happy for him in finally opening up to someone as beautiful as Minnie because he was happy with her but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel happy knowing that he’s better off with someone else, but you weren’t a child. You swore you will congratulate the both of them if they do decide to get together and just cry yourself to sleep every night until you move on. That's the spirit!

JJ being in a relationship with Minnie, a stunning girl who could pass as a model. The thought weighs heavy on your mind and it hurted.

Minnie caresses his cheek lovingly and you almost gagged. Minnie just told a lame joke and now their bonding over it.

You held a breath behind pursed lips and before you could get up to move towards the salty waters and drown yourself in it the words that escaped Minnie’s lips left your brain in stutters for a moment as your eyes take in more light than expected, every part of you goes on pause while your thoughts try to catch up.

“I love you JJ”

The world seemed to stop moving, a heavy silence settled over all of you, thicker than the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. Unsettled eyes glanced around swiftly, to avoid catching other glances that passed by. Pope’s jaw is slacked and Kie and John B shifted uncomfortably in their seat as Sarah has never cringed so hard in her entire life.

Your mind was completely blank, brows furrowed as you stared at Minnie with displeasure and pure jealousy. Your heart screams at JJ to reject the pretty brunette.

He was bewildered, blue eyes about to pop out of their sockets. Lips shut tight in a straight line.

“Minnie what the fuck?” Sarah was the first to speak up and break the tensed silence. Your friends' eyes land on Sarah then back to Minnie and JJ, until finally landing on you to examine your reaction.

“Yeah Minnie what the fuck?” You seethed, the anger in your voice caught you off guard and the others too. You catch JJ’s eyes for a second before focusing back on Minnie who held her face in her hands and began to sob like a toddler. You rolled your eyes, arms crossed against your chest.

“I’m sorry everyone, i've just never felt this way about anyone before and JJ.. well he’s cute and I just couldn’t help but tell him how I felt. How i truly felt!!” she expressed quite dramatically.

In the corner of your eyes you can see Sarah pinch the bridge of her nose, Kie is covering her mouth with her hand and John B’s head is tilted back, eyes closed.

“You don't love him Min! you barely even know the dude?!” Sarah hoots, throwing her arms up in the air to get her point across.

“i just- i need a minute” Kid mutters to herself as her brain tries to comprehend what Minnie just said to JJ. John B’s head is still tilted back with his eyes closed, not saying a word, just sighing.

Pope is taken aback with Minnie’s confession and begins to shake JJ’s shoulders like a maniac. JJ grabs his wrist and shoves him away. “Minnie i-“ he pauses, not really knowing what to say.

JJ doesn’t feel the same and he wants to say it but with the way the brunette is crying heavily onto him made him stiff. He gawks at her for a moment before wrapping his arms around her frame, only because he felt bad and comforting her until she stopped crying was something that felt right to him in the moment.

He pats her back awkwardly but you saw this as a sign that he feels the same way she does and that he was only embarrassed to tell her that he loves her too.

You untuck your legs from under you and stood up so fast you blacked out for a second. You bend over to snatch your beach bag that was behind Pope and allow your feet to drag you away from the group.

“No Y/n! Get back here!”

“Y/n!”

You are being childish but you didn’t care. You mentally shrug off the embarrassment creeping up on your spine for storming off like that. Knowing that you will cringe later at your own dramatics. You thought you have walked far enough so the others won’t follow but the sudden hand in yours pulling you back forcefully made your heart jump and your chest bumping into a harder chest.

“Stop. Where are you going?”

The emotion in his eyes was fathom deep, heavy and blunt but yet still full of emotions. The striking blue colour held you in place. You sighed.

“I’m tired i guess? I’m fine J, just go back and i’ll-“ he attached his lips on yours before you could even finish the sentence and after a few seconds of not feeling you reciprocating the kiss he pulled away and leaned his forehead on yours. You stared up at him with confusion. A thumb caressing your cheek as your breaths mingled. “JJ?” You murmur.

“I'm sorry”

“For what exactly?” He ignored the sarcasm.

“Were you jealous of Minnie?” He asked stupidly, as if he didn’t already know. You begin to shove at his chest but he keeps you in place, arms wrapped tightly around your smaller frame. The cons of being a small girl. Your vision is blurry as it wells up with up-coming tears and you feel weak.

“Of course I was jealous of her, you buffoon” you cry. His heart ached at the sight of you unraveling in front of him. “I thought it was you and me? But she comes along and all of a sudden I don’t matter to you anymore?”

“Hey stop! that's-“

“No JJ you stop!” You find the strength to push him away this time and he stumbles back, almost losing his footing at the forceful shove. “I feel like an idiot for thinking that there was something between us, that you felt the same-“

“I do feel the same!” He steps forward and tries to reach for you but you take a step back. “You can’t just kiss me and expect things to be fine and dandy when all you did was pay attention to her and barely spared me a single glance!” His footsteps light as he moves closer, moving slowly and reaching out for you again.

“I felt as if i wasn’t good enough. Like you just got bored of being with me all of a sudden and it broke my heart cause i swore that we had something special even when we didn’t get along at the start!” Your lips wobbled as you sobbed harder.

“Shut up! Just shut up!” you jumped like a frightened rabbit when his voice echoed through your ears loud and clear. “Look i’m not great at expressing my emotions okay? It's just not easy for me to do sometimes and i'm sorry but i do feel the same. I saw you out with Todd last week and thought it was a date so i’ve been leaning on Minnie to forget about you. I fucking love you, im fucking inlove with you and im sorry okay?”

Your heart races when you look at him. Jaw clenched and his own chest heaving, fist bawled to his side. His little rant left you stunned and you wiped a few tears from your cheeks before pulling him into your embrace.

The arms that held him were soft, yet strong. The feel of your body so close to his soothed him and within seconds he pulled away only to kiss you again, and this time you reciprocated. You whisper plentiful of ‘i love yous’ against his lips and he feels his knees tremble at the sweetness of you.

☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ 𝔹 𝕆 ℕ 𝕌 𝕊 ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎

“So..green huh?” JJ intertwines his hand in yours and begins to lead the way, heading to the direction of the chateau. “What?”

“When Sarah said green wasn’t your colour did she mean it metaphorically? Because you were jealous of Minnie?” He’s teasing. “Shut up”

He throws a heavy arm over your shoulder and pinches your cheek with his fingers making you fake groan in pain. You lightly punched his side and sprint off, laughing loudly as he chased after you and almost tripped on nothing.

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imaginethebeautifulworld · 3 years

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prussia x reader: silly squabbles

Hello, lovelies~ I was plagued by images of this dumbass and his general ridiculousness, so of course I had to write it all out. This fic is pointless, but I hope you enjoy anyway.

"You are really annoying."

"And yet, somehow, I'm not detecting any real annoyance. Wonder why?"

His words hung lightly in the air, gentle and playful, just shy of taunting.

You did your best to ignore them, trying to focus on your book. But his fingers were moving again, trailing over your back in an inconsistent pattern, heavy enough a presence to register, yet just light enough to torment.

You were sure, in some long-winded, ridiculous, roundabout way, he would blame you for this predicament- for not reading as fast as him, for not paying him enough attention during a lazy day in.

Regardless, you tried to focus on the passage at hand, rereading the same paragraph for the tenth time now as he teased a particularly sensitive spot near your ribs.

He wasn't quite tickling you- not yet- but the shifting tempo and pressure all played upon the obvious threat.

Only mildly irritated- really, you were too familiar with his shenanigans by now to ever be truly annoyed- your focus landed on the bookcase, the only immediate target for your long-suffering gaze. "Do you mind?"

There was a hint of pride in his voice as he answered, a cockiness at successfully distracting you. "Nope!"

His fingers- now having tasked themselves with massaging more than teasing- paused between your shoulder blades. "Why? Do you?"

Rather than allow him another victory, you huffed quietly, pointedly making an effort to lose yourself once more in your book. "No... Not at all."

If he was amused by your answer practically being ground between your teeth, he made no indication of it. Instead, he resumed his massage, keeping his palm mostly flat against your spine, adopting a steady rhythm that lulled you into some semblance of security.

You allowed yourself to relax, turning your attention fully to your tale, praying he would at least let you finish this chapter in relative peace.

It was a hope to be short-lived alas, his posture shifting, bringing him near enough to read over your shoulder.

You were far too invested to truly pay him any mind, but then he was hovering near your temple, fingers drifting ever closer to your neck, once more dancing in that maddeningly light way which he employed solely in effort to agitate you.

You knew what he was doing, and you'd be damned if you'd let him win; summoning every ounce of self-restraint within you, you purposely, blatantly, chose to ignore him.

It took only a few moments for him to acknowledge your determination towards defiance (a few torturous moments where he had started tracing his nails against your hairline and whispered some of the passage aloud), his huff of displeasure bring you a small taste of sweet, sweet victory.

You would have been naive to think he had given up, knew it would be foolish to assume, to dare to presume, that he didn't already have other strategies in mind.

What you couldn't guess, regretfully, was exactly which plan he would attempt next.

When he sat upright once more, leaving you to lounge peacefully on your stomach, you unwisely surmised that he was actually finished with the whole affair, that he'd grown bored, that he would actually leave you to your novel in peace.

Feeling him shift back to the head of the bed, hearing him tapping away at his phone- these factors allied with his distance away from you all allayed your worries, letting you escape once more to the realm belonging to the pages before you.

The temporary tranquility was somehow less than simply fleeting; it had scarcely existed at all.

Not even five minutes had passed, and you felt teasing fingers once more, now grazing ever-so-softly against the bare skin of your ankle.

A jolt of panic fueled your reflexive movement away from him, your legs kicking, book falling to the floor in your surprise.

You shot upright and fixed him with a glare, hoping to convey just how furious you were with him. "I swear to God-!"

The villainous grin on his face revealed vanity in its purest form, and it did nothing to reduce your resentment.

Scowling now, and forcing yourself into an upright position, you narrowed your eyes at him. "What do you want, asshole?"

He was quiet for a moment, by all appearances still savoring his triumph. But then his smile shifted, the self-satisfied smirk falling slowly into something softer, fonder.

It took you by surprise, sent a stutter through your pulse, all irritation rapidly transitioning into confusion. "What?"

He shifted forward, leg bending beneath him as he drew closer.

Suspicious, but not too concerned, you offered an unimpressed expression, relaying your distrust. "Gil?"

There was a flicker to his smile, but it was soon replaced by something far more serious, his eyes languidly studying your features.

Briefly, more a passing fancy, you considered teasing him for his sudden quiet, yet there was something too tremulous tormenting him, and you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, instead offering your concern. “Teuton?”

Whatever spell that had held him within its grasp was finally dismissed, his head cocking to the side and a considering tone coating his next words. “You love me, right?”

It sounded innocent enough, and his behavior certainly suggested no ill-intent. But you knew him, and knew all-too-well not to fully believe in it. “Is that a trick question?”

You made sure to keep your words only just on the side of playful, but tempered with enough sincerity to assuage any possible self-doubts that may be afflicting him.

It was clearly the right approach, the left corner of his mouth only just hinting at a smile, a familiar spark almost tangible in the air. “It’s a simple question, Liebling. No need to sound so suspicious!”

You felt your eyes narrow as you studied him, his wording only heightening your wariness. “You know- The fact you feel you have to say so really isn’t winning you any points here.”

His grin was back at that, disorienting in its intensity, just enough that you nearly forgot his previous grimness. “I’m just asking if you love me, mein Schatz. ‘Snot like I’m asking you to sell me your immortal soul or something.”

You neglected to point out how those two things were near one and the same, instead choosing to offer a faux sincerity. “Oh no, you’re right. I hate you so much,” you quipped, each syllable oversaturated in sarcasm.

He scoffed, melodramatically pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m wounded.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning down just long enough to rescue your book from the floor, marking your page and setting beside you on the comforter. “I’m sure your pride will be just fine."

“I dunno…” His words trailed off, and you could make out the distinct, irritating sound of him sucking on his teeth. “I think it may be mortal this time.”

You decided to play along, content to lose yourself in the absurdity. “Oh no,” came your reply, emotionless a tone as you could muster, in spite of the smile playing on your lips. “How could I possibly live with myself?”

He hummed, running a finger over his chin as if he were seriously considering it. “You’d probably take my fortune, settle somewhere warm.”

You fought a laugh, unsuccessfully. “Mm, definitely. Have sordid affairs with all the cabana boys and the waitresses.”

“Sing drunken renditions of Mamma Mia during karaoke night.”

“And I’ll adopt some ugly, exotic pet that I insist travels with me everywhere.”

“Only after your third husband disappears after mysterious circumstances, of course.”

He was only half-serious, and you couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow in mock offense. “Only three?”

Your question made him snicker, his eyes shining in amusement, but he didn’t continue the exchange.

Several moments passed, and with them the lingering ridiculousness of the “argument” faded away. There were many of these odd backs-and-forths, all somehow sillier than the last. The quiet was just as pleasant though, and you embraced the comfort it carried.

That was, until, he was biting his lip in thought, his amusement long abandoned.

Concerned, you shifted closer, studying his features carefully. "Gil?"

His eyes were glued to some distant place you couldn’t see, miles and centuries away from the here and now. “You do love me, right?”

“Of course,” you replied almost reflexively, still taken aback by the sudden shift back to solemnity.

“Really?” His eyes turned to yours once more, unguarded, open, a haunting fragility shining in them that made your heart clench inside your chest.

Wherever this insecurity came from, you wished you could rid him of it, tear all traces of it from his psyche, make it so he would never question his self-worth ever again.

As it was, you did what you could, lifting his hand to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to his ring, meeting his gaze as you lingered against the silver. “Would you be wearing this if I didn’t?”

There was a smile, the one you fell in love with: fond, slightly shy, just a little cocky. “Good point.”

You couldn’t help but feel as if something was still off about him however, something bothering him that you couldn’t even hope to guess. “Why do you ask, anyway?”

He took to studying your features again, his free hand rising to trace his fingers softly against your cheek. His eyes were warm and gentle, posture completely at ease. His words however-

“Sometimes I can’t believe this is real, or how lucky I am; some days I swear you’re just a figment of my imagination.”

His words carried an almost unbearable amount of loneliness, layered among disbelief and adoration. They triggered several different emotions within you, stirring them into a frenzied muss of affection and sadness, leaving you breathless.

Several potential reactions came to mind, but were all dismissed as you weighed his words, compared them to the relaxation of his shoulders, the familiarity as he languidly brushed his fingertips behind your ear, lightly teasing your scalp.

You could easily surrender to it, could already feel your own posture relaxing with each steady shift of his fingers. Still, you weren’t quite ready to abandon your prior playfulness, offering a haughty hum to prelude your reply.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m very real.” You felt a passing smirk flicker to life for a moment, blazing brightly before it was gone again, sober sincerity settling once more in its place. “You’re stuck with me, Beilschmidt. Forever…” you finished in an elongated stage whisper.

He breathed a laugh, the slightest hiss, his grin irrepressible now. His tone, however, mimicked nonchalance. “Eh. There are worse things, I guess.”

The tease was impossible to ignore, especially as that all-too-familiar deviousness was taunting in its own right.

You tried to keep your words accusatory, but they came out entirely too fond. “You’re a dick.”

He smirked, offering a half-hearted shrug.

“Guilty,” he sang, almost entirely too proud.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, he was cradling both of your cheeks, and before you could guess at his next move, he was shifting forward, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But I’m a dick who loves you very much.”

Thanks for reading!

#prussia x reader #readerfic #gilbert beilschmidt x reader #hello lovelies!#i'll add more tags later ugh #aph prussia #hws prussia #i hope y'all are well!#i've missed writing #i'm hoping i can get back to this one ancient artie request i received aeons ago #thanks for reading!#aph prussia x reader #hetalia prussia #hetalia prussia x reader #hws prussia x reader #gilbert beilschmidt

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phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust · 3 years

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hii can you do "not everything is a joke"?

4. “Not everything is a joke.”

“Just fuck off John.” Paul stated in response with an exhausted, blunt edge, as he started to make his way away from the table at which the two sat with their mates. John just smiled cruelly at this, taking another sip from his beer – but somewhere deep beneath that smile, a part of him was panicking, as echoes of abandonment raced through his mind.

He didn’t think too much of the argument for a couple days, until he tried giving Paul a ring.

“Hello?” an optimistic voice that could not be mistaken for anyone other than Paul picked up.

“Right there Paul? Its John-”

He interjected, “I know who it is.”

“D’you wanna go out tonight? Im bored outta me fuckin’ mind here.”

There was a pause. And then a sigh. And then, “John, I don’t wanna talk to you right now.”

“You what?” He laughed slightly, it seemed he scarcely could believe Paul was being serious right now.

“I don’t wanna see you right now, and I don’t wanna talk to you either.”

John took a moment to absorb this, then mumbled, “This yer dads doin’ Macca?”

“Listen, ive gotta go John. Bye.” He hung up.

For the next week or so, John would attempt repeatedly to ring Paul and engage him in conversation, but Paul would simply just hang up once he’d heard Johns voice. Finally, this abandonment had built up a blockage within John, and he was prepared to explode.

He went round to the McCartneys estate, but after knocking on the door he was met with Mikey, Pauls brother.

“Right there John?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” a blatant lie, “is Paul in?”

“Nah - he’s out with some girl.” Something inside began to crumble within John after hearing that - though of course he’d had to hide that hurt.

“D’you know- d’you know where they are?”

“Well, they should be down the cafe, but I dunno if they’d still be there.”

“Ah well, cheers mate.”

He’d spotted them within seconds of entering the cafe - though they were still yet to see him. Infuriated and irrational, he walked over to Paul and the girl he was sat with.

“Busy are ye Macca?” he interjected aggressively. Paul wanted to refuse to deign him with a response that would allow John to engage him in an argument, and so he only replied bluntly, “Yeah. I am, John.” John wasn’t leaving though, instead he actually took a seat beside Pauls.

“Busy doin’ what then? Shagging?” Paul looked over to the girl, and he saw a blush cross her faced, however, John continued coarsely, “Fucking?”

He wanted to remain calm, but instead he spat back, “Fuck off Lennon!”

“Embarrassing you, am I?”

“Yeah, you are actually.” He responded irritatedly.

“Good.” He forced a wicked smile to conceal the immensity of the pain that lay beneath it, in his ever-fractured mind and self. He continued, drawing closer to shouting, garnering more attention from those around him, “Why wont you return my fuckin’ calls?”

“I dont wanna do this here John.”

“I dont give a shit Paul - answer me bloody question.”

Knowing there was no reasoning with John, Paul reluctantly gave in, “Fine. Fine - but im not doin’ it here mate.” He stood up, and John naturally followed him with a desperate willingness. “Ill be back in second Ro’.”

Rose, the girl Paul was with, dropped him a smile and a sweet, “Okay,” before Paul existed with John, entering the cafes emptied bathroom.

“Im not happy about that shit you just pulled there John.”

“Yeah? Well im not too fuckin’ happy with you either ye twat.”

Paul disregarded this, continuing, “I mean - have you no self control mate? I was only ignoring you for a fuckin’ week, and you go mad like that! And ye haven’t even apologised-“

“Fer fucks sake mate - it was a fuckin’ joke!”

“Yeah, well not everything is a bloody joke, Lennon. Alright. I don’t appreciate you comparing me all the time to fuckin’ bird,” perhaps he might have gotten through to John here, had he not mumbled the added detail, “’sides, you’re the one who normally…you know. You’re usually the bird.”

***

Ive gotta be honest, im really not proud of this fic :( I dunno what it is but I just struggled with writing it for some reason, despite liking the prompt and my idea for it. I dunno, but I feel like ive gotta publish it by now cause its been quite a few days since I said id write fics and I didn’t want anyone to feel like I was just ignoring them or anything.

(PS im not just saying all this so that I can get people to compliment my work or anything, like im fine y’know just a little little little disappointed and dissatisfaction with my work here, and so I just wanted to add that I don’t think this fic is really up to par and sorry i dunno im rambling whoops) (but im fine lol)

#mclennon #fanfic #my work

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phantomrose96 · 4 years

Text

Origin of a Non-Hero

Pro Hero Deku is not that tall of a man… In a simple white t-shirt and khakis, he’s not imposing at all. His 14 year old son, though much scrawnier in frame, is only an inch or two shorter than him.

Pro Hero Deku is not a cruel man. To the contrary, he cares too much, about all things at all times, about everyone and everything he can save if only it could come within his reach. The family counselor knows this. The counselor is surprised that, of all the world’s burdens Deku carries, it would be his family that slipped through his grasp.

Pro Hero Deku’s arms are gnarled and scarred, endlessly broken and re-broken in his youth from trying too much, and caring too much, and fighting too much for the sake of others. So why do they seem so awkward, so unpracticed, so unused to being wrapped in a hug around his son? Why was this boy the last thing for Pro Hero Deku’s arms to reach?

The counselor asks. The raw hurt of the session starts anew.

(This fic is long, heed the Read More)

...

11 people shared the same rigid wooden bench as Shikinori Midoriya. From the glances he stole, all 11 of them were handcuffed. An equal number of armed guards stood at the ready, crowding a waiting area meant to accommodate no more than 10 people. Shoulders rubbed shoulders. Sweat trickled from necks and hairlines. Dampness clung to skin and scales and fur and whatever other quirk-manifested coverings the 11 handcuffed men, and 11 guards, and Shiki bore.

A puttering fan spun in the corner, sad and wheezing and ineffective against the body heat of so many. Shiki kind of resented the fan for all the nothing it was accomplishing.

He leaned his weight into the sturdy bench arm to his left, opting to crush his guts into the furniture rather than lean on the man beside him, who was more knotted muscle and snake tattoos than he was man. Shiki looked again and concluded the man may even be more snake than man. Two sharp fangs stuck out from his mouth and tented his upper lip. His unmarked skin shimmered, a rippling repeated pattern of flesh-covered scales. His tongue shot out and licked the air, forked. Slit-pupiled eyes made momentary, awkward eye-contact with Shiki, and Shiki quickly pretended to be staring elsewhere.

The man seemed familiar. Some villain from some news headline. But Shiki couldn’t place a name, so he didn’t bother thinking about it more. He stared ahead, eyes drifting out of focus, hot. Uncomfortable and hot. Damp and stick-to-his-clothes-sweaty. Just…hot. Unnecessarily so. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. Maybe it wasn’t worth it. Maybe he’d been impulsive, and foolish, and should leave before he gets in any deeper.

The door beside Shiki creaked open. A wizened man with tiny, deep-set, watery eyes motioned him in. Shiki all but jumped to his feet. He tugged at the spots of his shirt that clung sweaty to his back, and he followed. The temperature dropped at least 20 degrees once he crossed the threshold into this new room. The door clicked shut behind Shiki. He startled, and felt a ripple of disquiet shiver down his spine, but Shiki chose not to dwell on it. He was more drawn to investigating the new room, which, he quickly discovered, came with its own kind of sensory-terrible-silence.

The waiting room had been terribly silent – chatterless and buffed with the sounds of breathing, wheezing, throat-clearing, shifting, shuffling, and the tinkering tangle of chains. This time it was an ambient buzz that blanketed the new room, thick and oppressive and syncopated, like a fly trapped in a jar. Shiki traced it to the fluorescent lights overhead. Under their pallor, the watery-eyed man looked half like death. He sat, and motioned for Shiki to sit too in the wooden chair directly across. A table separated them. On Shiki’s side, there was a set of iron cuffs drilled into the table-top, the sort where, if Shiki threaded his arms forward, he could be bolt-locked in place.

Shiki did not acknowledge the cuffs, and neither did the watery-eyed man. They made eye contact, and Shiki instantly understood: this man did not care about him. This man did not care about any of the other people in that waiting room. What gave it away was unclear – maybe the stiffness in his jaw, or the piercing deadness to his horrible ice-blue eyes, or the sterile too-large lab coat crumpling the man’s figure, or maybe none of that. Maybe it was pure human intuition, an instinct honed for survival, that one feels when encountering another human so bereft of empathy that it sticks along every individual neck-hair.

“Sit,” the man said. His tone was sharp, as though he’d been forced to repeat himself. That was somewhat true. He’d already motioned for Shiki to sit. Shiki had been too distracted by the cuffs on the table to comply. He was still distracted now, but he sat this time.

“I’m Dr. Matsuyama,” the man like death continued. He pulled a loose clipboard from the shelf just beneath his side of the table, and he dragged a slightly-trembling hand from his pocket, gray and liver-spotted, trailing an uncapped pen. His eyes became more like pits in this light, but Shiki could see a blue in them that was definitely inhuman. Which wasn’t saying much, since most of the population walked around in definitely inhuman ways. It was quirk-related, no doubt, but endlessly eerie to stare at.

There came a shuffle from the shadows, a shift in the back-left corner of the room that startled Shiki. He looked, and now locked eyes with a man dressed to the nines in an ill-fitting suit. The man pulled at his own lapel, straightening it, as though reading Shiki’s mind about the ill-fitting suit detail.

“Don’t mind Dr. Himura,” Matsuyama continued. “He’s leading the study, so he is observing. I’m conducting this session.” Matsuyama set pen to paper. “What is your name?”

“Shikinori Midoriya,” Shiki answered. “I go by Shiki, among friends.”

“Is there a reason for that?” Matsuyama’s voice had a papery tremble to it, like air whistling through the slit of a barely-cracked window. Listening to it was uncomfortable. Shiki could feel it like a shortness of breath in his own throat.

“Just preference.”

Matsuyama wrote something down.

“How old are you?”

“22.”

“Your quirk?”

“Gravity nullification.” Shiki raised his hands up, palms spread toward Matsuyama. “I can negate the gravity of anything I touch with my fingers, palms, or pads of my toes. Basically any part of my body that has this ridged skin.” He wiggled his wide-spread fingers. The weird fluorescent lighting threw the ridges into stark contrast, valleys of blackness ribbing his fingers, engulfed like Matsuyama’s eyes. “The quirk works on any sized object, but the time limit is shorter for bigger objects.”

Matsuyama let the silence linger as he wrote. His writings filled several lines this time, as Shiki had little else to do than watch the trail of the pen.

“Is your quirk patrilineal, matrilineal, or both?”

“Matrilineal.”

“How does it influence or impede your daily life?”

“It doesn’t much, really. I don’t need it. I don’t really use it. It’s forgettable.”

“What are the negatives to living with your quirk?”

Shiki shrugged. “None much, really, since I don’t use it.”

“Then what brings you here?”

“I mean, just that. I don’t need it. Does it have to be deeper than that?”

Matsuyama wrote. And he wrote for longer than before. Silence draped them again, and it amplified the buzzing from the lights. It was hot again, Shiki realized with agitation. His seat placed him right below the lights, a veritable stage light, targeting him to bake. His neck prickled with sweat. Buzzing. Like a fly in the jar. Fly in a jar, fly in a jar, that flies against the walls each which way and can’t get out, because there is no out, because the jar is sealed, and being unyielding to gravity is no help when the walls close on every side.

“…here?”

“Huh?” There’d been a question. Shiki had zoned out for--

“Did anyone offer you money to come here?”

“Not beyond the 1,500 yen per day,” Shiki responded, collecting himself. “You know, that you guys offered, that 1,500 yen, to cover transport and lunch. But nothing else. No.”

“Did anyone blackmail you to come here?”

“No.”

“Are there any extenuating circumstances to explain why you’re here?”

“None.”

Matsuyama stopped writing. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of Shiki’s neck, lost somewhere between his shoulder blades. He shifted, and rolled his shoulders a little, and edged his hands away from the wrist restraints on the table.

“Do you have any thoughts of self-harm?”

“No.”

“A history of violence?”

“No.”

“Do you consider yourself to be a danger to yourself or others?”

“No.”

“Any history of drug abuse?”

“No.”

“Alcoholism?”

“No.”

“Anxiety or depression?”

Shiki faltered. “I saw a therapist for a bit, a while ago, back when I was a teenager. But it wasn’t anything, like, extreme. You know? Just, stuff.”

“And how do you define ‘stuff’?”

“It—he was a family therapist. My parents are divorced so like, you know, I was a kid – well, a teenager – but that’s still a kid. I mean we saw the therapist when I was a teenager, but my parents divorced when I was 10 before I was a teenager so – the therapist – he was just for, you know, typical stuff. Typical divorced kid stuff.”

Matsuyama wrote, and wrote more, and at length, Shiki said nothing.

“How’s your relationship with your mother?”

“Fine.”

“How does she feel about your participation in this?”

“I dunno, really. I mentioned it to her like once but like, a while ago, before I decided on whether I wanted to do it but like… I dunno. That shouldn’t matter, right? I’m an adult.”

“How’s your relationship with your father?”

“You know, fine.”

“And how does he feel about your participation in this?”

“Like I said, does it matter?” Shiki pressed. He leaned forward, because he could feel his shirt sticking again in back. Under his arms, too. He was grateful for the dark color of his clothing, since Shiki knew from a glance to frumpy Himura that the harsh lighting was unforgiving on sweat stains.

“Is he against it?”

“He doesn’t know about it. Like, he’s busy. And I’m an adult. And it’s not like it’s his quirk or anything since I inherited it from my mom, and it’s my body so I think I should be the one who gets the final say in whether I do this or not don’t you think so?”

Matsuyama left the challenge unmet. It rung through the room around them and petered out to silence. Just an echo left dancing in Shiki’s head. Matsuyama wrote. He only wrote, and Shiki’s heart beat in his own ears.

“My job is to make sure you are of sound mind… uncoerced… unhindered by any self-destructive motivations...” Matsuyama’s pen did not break pace while he spoke, like an automaton. Like a puppet. Endlessly forward, unholy eyes shuffling along line by line. “The Quirk Ethics Board is strict. Dr. Himura has spent the better part of five years at odds with them to get this study off the ground. Be grateful to him, and be patient with me.” And his horrible eyes flickered up, pinning Shiki to the spot. “I can disqualify you, if I think you’re lying to me. So please, some patience, and some cooperation.”

Shiki’s whole body flushed with a shiver, and he realized that perhaps Himura was not the man he should be suspecting of a mind reading quirk.

He leaned back in his spotlight chair, and took a few deep breaths, and wondered how heated his cheeks were. Embarrassment always spiked a blush in them, and Shiki was ashamed to have let his composure slip.

“Your father… wouldn’t you like to tell him, first? There’s no reversing this. We encourage everyone who comes through this room to inform all family, all loved-ones first.”

“No. I don’t want to tell him. Because I know it’ll make him cry. And if I lose my nerve, and back out, I’ll probably never have this opportunity again. I need this decision to be my own.”

Shiki averted his eyes, away from Matsuyama, glancing left and finding himself staring back. A mirror spanned the length of the left wall. A few feet worth of cinderblock stretched from the floor-up, and the ceiling-down, meeting at a mirror that lobbed Shiki’s own reflection back at him. Freckles and green eyes and tousled chestnut hair and cheeks heated with shame and embarrassment.

A one-way mirror. Shiki wondered if there was anyone standing on the other side of it, watching, judging.

The silence lingered, heavier, denser somehow. It took Shiki a few moments to process what had changed.

The scratch of Matsuyama’s pen had vanished. He was not writing. He was staring, instead, at Shiki. Plain to see in the mirror. Waiting for Shiki to face him again. Reluctantly, Shiki looked.

“Your father… is a busy man, you said. He must be very very busy… Shikinori Midoriya.” Matsuyama shuffled his papers into place, and set the clipboard down on the interrogation desk. “If your name, and your appearance, and the leagues and leagues of advertisements, and news headlines, and television specials I see every day paint an accurate picture of who, I suspect, your father is.”

Shiki breathed out, jaw clenched, feeling that familiar dread settle in. He heard a noise from Himura, like a tiny pip, a single note of recognition that Shiki had become well attuned to: that sound of someone putting the dots together, the look in their eyes as they roved over Shiki’s face, as though suddenly giddy to understand his freckles and green eyes and curly hair.

“Midoriya?” Himura leaned forward, pushing himself off the back wall and shuffling a bit forward. His eyes were wide and probing, mutedly eager. “Oh I see – yeah – I see it – you look just like him – but – pardon my interruption, son, but – why would you ever consider participating – here in my study – why I can’t dream of – I don’t think I could be responsible for -“

“Don’t,” Shiki shot back. He braced his back against the chair once more, letting the wave of dread pass. “Don’t… Don’t finish what you’re going to say.”

“The boy is right, Himura,” Matsuyama said, and he did not look at his colleague. “This is my interview. And you are only here to observe. You are out of line.”

“R-right,” Himura breathed, flushing red, yet still clearly riding out his confusion, his giddiness. He pulled a small kerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the sweat along his receding hairline. “My apologies, M-Mr. Midoriya.”

“Just call me Shiki…”

“Yes, Shiki, we should get back on track,” Matsuyama proceeded. He picked his clipboard up once more and flipped another page. Shiki tried counting the number of sheets that wrapped spiral-like over top. More than he had realized – 10 or maybe 12 pages thick, at this point. Matsuyama’s pen tip tapped to paper once more. “I want to be clear: you are entitled to have your own reason for following through with this. But you may not hide it from me and expect to participate. I am the deciding factor here. Do not lie.”

With that, Shiki felt the last of the vigor in his spine drain away. He slumped forward some, and avoided eye contact with Matsuyama, and Himura, and his own reflection in the mirror which he resented so strongly at this very moment.

“So tell me, boy,” Matsuyama paused to pull in a rattling breath, “why do you want us to erase your quirk?”

“It’s complicated,” Shiki muttered.

“I’m quite good at complicated,” Matsuyama countered.

“It’s… My dad… You figured it out already, right? Izuku Midoriya… He’s the #1 Hero.” The words felt plastic, leaving Shiki’s throat. Artificial. Manufactured. A thing repeated en-masse by television hosts and podcasts and commercials and fan events and—

Shiki breathed.

“He wasn’t always. …Well, duh, I guess, of course… That sounds obvious to say but I mean it as – as in that – back when I was born, Dad was the #361 Hero. At least in the one ranking suite that stretched all the way to the top 500 heroes. Most ranking organizations only did top-250 at best. And the National Rankings only do top-75. He was a still a sidekick then. So was my mom. She didn’t even appear in the top 500. And I think being pregnant with me, and me being born, and taking care of me – I think that set her back even more.”

Shiki leaned forward, elbows set to the table, eyes boring deep into the scratched and stained wood. There were deeper gouges near the sharp corners of the arm restraints.

“When I was old enough to start remembering things is around when I got my quirk, because most of my oldest memories are of my mom playing gravity games with me in our apartment. She’d make my toys float and I’d make them float too and she’d bop them, like with her head, bop them all around and I thought that was the funniest thing. I used to think everyone could cancel gravity because that was so much of my world, just me and my mom.”

Ochaco Midoriya was just barely 23, and her hair had grown long enough to wear in a bun every day. Her off-the-shoulder white shirt spelled out URAVITY in bubble letters across the front. A short release. Only 100 shirts sold, half of them to friends and family. Her son Shiki lay on the carpet, small pudgy hands grabbing at fistfuls of air above him, reaching for her, his footy-jammied feet kicking. His fingers were ridged. He’d have her quirk someday. She pulled out the stuffed frog from behind her back (FROPPY logo emblazoned on the tummy) and papped it gently forward. Into the air. Where it hung and spun, lazily adrift. Shiki let out a shriek of joy. Ochaco smiled, and cupped Shiki’s hands in hers, and kissed them.

“My dad… um… he was out most of the day, almost the whole day, on weekdays at least, when I was young. And I was proud of him for that especially when I got old enough to understand what heroes and villains were because like, that was my dad, out there every single day putting in more effort than anyone else, you know? It never even seemed that weird, to like, that I didn’t have him around. I had Mom, and Dad was a hero.”

The little leaguers were all 5 or 6 years old, adorned in fluorescent pinnies and tiny little soccer cleats. They ran the way little kids run – with too much force in every stilted step, no grace, all fierce concentration, feet slamming heavy into grass and balled fists swinging. The ball came above their knees, and they kicked by running into it full-force.

Tatsuya bodied the ball into the opposing goal, and he was met with a chorus of applause from his mother and father on the sidelines. It was the first time Shikinori Midoriya noticed – Tatsuya had a dad. He looked, and saw so many dads. And it was strange. Weren’t they heroes? Weren’t they busy?

Ochaco stood alone. She waved a big wide sweeping wave when she noticed Shiki looking. She whistled for him. The ball knocked into Shiki. He forgot to wave back.

“I remember… Most of my memories of him, from when I was little, were on weekends. But not always, I mean not all weekends. He patrolled through weekends too. But if we got a weekend off, then we’d do some activity with him. Me, Mom, all of us together. It was my favorite. But weekdays, I never saw him. He left before I woke up and came home after I was in bed. I stayed up sometimes, in secret, to listen for him at the door. But a lot of nights I fell asleep first, or some nights he never even came home. I actually, I think I started to see him more on television, from news reporters, than I did in person…”

A head-to-toe child’s onesie which was a flannel plushy mock-up of Pro Hero Deku’s uniform. Shiki wore it, bunny ears and all, sitting in his mother’s lap in front of the television. Ochaco sat with her back against the couch, on the floor. The sun had set around them. The news had trickled on to its fourth recap of Deku’s apartment arson rescue.

~”A civilian recording that is SURE to capture a nation’s heart! As Pro Hero Deku emerges from the blazing building with three tenants, mother father and child, slung across his back – look – there! Oh what a winning smile that boy’s got, hasn’t he? Saving people with a smile! It makes me nostalgic for the age of All Might, to our viewers old enough to remember the Symbol of Peace before his retirement. Maybe Deku is someone who can spark that hope back into the new generation, what do you think, folks?”~

“15 more minutes, Shikinori, then it’s time for bed,” Ochaco told Shiki, bouncing him on her leg.

“But I wanna stay up for Dad! I wanna tell him we watched him on the news!” Shiki pointed a stubby finger to the freeze-frame of his father on the television, all tousled hair and sweat, bearing the weight of three others on his back, a veritable Atlas, smiling. Smiling smiling. Shiki gave the same smile as his dad, beaming at his mom.

“You’ll see him tomorrow; you can tell him then.”

The smile dropped from Shiki’s face. He looked forward to the television again. “I’m not gonna see him tomorrow. Tomorrow’s Tuesday and I don’t ever see Dad on Tuesday.”

~”I hear we’ve got an interview with a civilian who was on-site during the disaster. We’re cutting to him now!”~

“…30 more minutes, okay then, Honey?” Ochaco said. “We’ll wait up 30 more minutes for Dad.”

Shiki’s hand twitched. His eyes were locked on the shackles, and slowly, experimentally, he rested his wrists in the cuffs. Could the table hold him down with his quirk?

“And by the time I was 7, he broke into the top-100 heroes. Within another three years, he was top-50. Newspapers called it mind-blowing to see someone like that jump the ranks so quickly. He blew past Ground Zero and Ice Razer, who you know are like, #2 and #3 now. It was crazy. Like, he got way more attention for how quickly he was jumping than for his actual rank. The papers said he was working inhuman hours. That even heroes with time quirks and clone quirks couldn’t be as everywhere as he was… I have clippings saved. Or I did. I might have gotten rid of them when Mom and Dad divorced.”

Shiki clinked his wrists against the shackles, metal wrist watch ringing hollow against the cuffs.

“Which is, that was something I found out on my 10th birthday. They didn’t mean for me to know but I was staying up past my bed time to play the new Hero Smash game they got me – the one Dad was finally in -- and I heard them arguing just a bit too loud about something, and them arguing was kinda common at that point, so I paused the game to listen and… yeah… divorce… It was, you know, a pretty tame divorce, I think. Like, I can’t really complain about it, compared to some of the stuff other kids go through. Cuz Mom and Dad still acted friendly and tried to settle things on good terms but, you know, it showed. I’d go into Mom’s room and hold her, some nights, when I heard her crying. And she’d sob and say ‘I still love him’ and I never knew what to say back, but, I’m –that’s, anyway. Anyway.”

Ochaco Midoriya, 32 years old. She kept the last name. It would be easier, in terms of legal hassle, and it would be easier on her son, who she had full custody of.

Her empty bed had been the norm for years, now. Deku had gotten into the habit of working through the nights, stealing naps on his cot at the agency. But now it was the cold reminder, the knowledge, that he wasn’t ever coming back to this bed that stole Ochaco’s breath and made it short. Made her heart squeeze. Forced noises past her lips that she tried to keep in.

“Mom?” Shiki’s eyes, wide with concern, at the side of her bed. He held his hands together, ridged fingers, ridged palms, the little fingers she used to kiss.

He reached a hand out, and patted her shoulder, tip toes, leaning over the bed. He should be crying too.

Shiki pulled his hands back, rubbing at his wrists. His cheeks were flushed, embarrassment creeping through his system as his own words echoed back at him. Those things he’d rarely told anyone. “Am I… is this too much detail? I can dial it back. It’s just, um, I feel like the context is important for you to like… know why I’m—not write me off as—”

“This is fine, continue. If you say anything unnecessary, I can simply not write it down,” Matsuyama waved his free hand dismissively. The pen in his other hand danced, still, across the page.

Shiki cleared his throat. “Anyway, I lived with Mom after that. And when I was a little older she told me more about it and basically just. ‘He loves All Might more than he loves me,’ she said. Not the person, but the… idea. Like the concept of All Might. It’s who my Dad was so driven to be since the very beginning and… My mom couldn’t take being secondary anymore… And I realized then that, I was part of that too. I didn’t need saving, so I came second. My mom put her hero career on hold to raise me but he, um, he just couldn’t do that. Who he was as a person was so, unfixably tangled up in becoming that All Might in his mind that, he couldn’t sacrifice that. Not for me. Not for my mom.

“And when they finally divorced, and he moved out and into this just… terrible tiny unfurnished apartment, which I only saw twice – two years apart – and both times it looked the same. Nothing in there. Almost like no one was really living there. A futon and a closet and a rice cooker in the corner and boxes and All Might merch on the wall.”

Shiki was 11, sitting on a packed cardboard box against the red-brick wall of his dad’s apartment. Still-packed boxes lined most of the walls, like a misshapen and dull lego construction. Red brick, brown cardboard, All Might smiling from every wall. It was an apartment unlived-in, and that aspect was nearly unfathomable to Shiki. His dad had been moved out for over four months.

“Pretty great, huh?” Deku said, gloved finger pointing to the wall of All Mights. Deku’s smile was bright, his excitement genuine. “The one on the far left was a limited release from 50 years ago. One of my super-fans tracked it down for me and mailed it. Can you believe it?”

Shiki nodded. All the posters looked the same to him.

“But um, after the divorce is when he really skyrocketed. Everything before was child’s play. I was… dizzy. I was 11, and starting middle school, and had just lost my dad only to have him be everywhere but… not my dad. Not there for me. But everywhere, on billboards, in newspapers, on television. Kids at school would hear my last name and they’d ask ‘Midoriya – Like Izuku Midoriya? Like Deku?!’ and I’d have to just say yeah while they applauded or like, even smacked me on the back sometimes like I had any choice in that, and would ask questions about him that, I couldn’t answer, cuz he wasn’t my dad anymore. His fans in my class knew things about him that I didn’t. Sometimes little things like favorite color but sometimes big things, whole things from his childhood that I never heard about. They’d ask me things about him and that’s when I realized I didn’t know my dad at all.”

Shiki glanced up, and saw Himura look away in embarrassment.

“He’d been kidnapped, as a kid, had saved Ground Zero twice, took down a murderer with Ice Razer and Ingenium, had his mentor die during a rescue mission. I had to hear these things from people I didn’t know. And I felt just, selfish, every time I learned something new. Especially the things that happened after I was born. Because how do you sit and hear someone tell you a story about the time your dad saved their grandma from a collapsed bridge and just… how can you justify feeling resentful about that? How selfish do you have to be to think, ‘he should have been spending that night at home with me and my mom, and not saving your grandma.’ I hated it. I started to hate hearing about him.”

His hands were shaking now, slightly, Shiki realized. His breathing too came in too fast and too raspy. He set his wrists back in the open restraints, and breathed out.

“And just… by the time I was 12, Dad made Top 20. And then when I was 13, he was Top 10. …And I think at that point he really, truly didn’t feel like my dad anymore. Because he was just, some God to the world. Someone people fawned over by the millions and, just, that was better, actually. Because I could really just act like he wasn’t my dad, had nothing to do with me. Maybe I was at peace with that. I could do the 20-minute phone calls once a week and be courteous with him and answer questions about school and just, move on…”

Shiki walked the same street every day to school, the same route with the same turns, the same backpack slung over one shoulder. But the scenery changed. New advertisements. New billboards. New screens projecting, dancing, twirling, screening, screaming. Deku brand hand cream. Deku brand baby clothes. Deku brand clutch purses. Headlines with stills of Pro Hero Deku printed on the front page. Upcoming: interview with Pro Hero Deku! Everywhere. Growing like mushrooms. The likeness almost like the one in Shiki’s mirror every morning. The likeness of a man quickly fading from memory, quickly replaced by advertisements and stills over flesh and blood. Shiki felt eyes on him, every day, from people who saw the resemblance. Or maybe not. Maybe he imagined it. Maybe no one was looking at him at all.

The wrist restraints were cold.

“And I started to see Mom less and less, around that time. I was old enough to take care of myself mostly so she, she took up patrolling again. Started rising the ranks quickly too… Mostly because the tabloids loved her, and circulated her name as much as they could, as the ex-wife of Deku… They said horrible things that I—still I—even thinking about them just. Vile horrible things about her and Dad, and why Dad left her, and why she left Dad, and ‘Deku fans’ piling on her calling her trash and filth and whore and, insulted her for keeping his last name until, eventually, she did change it back and… I stopped reading those but… that’s how hero work works. Whatever gets your name out there, and gets you recognized, so that your rescues get camera time and screen time and … She at least got to make her own name, once she got recognized. Her own rescue efforts spoke for themselves. Saved over 75 people from the rubble of a collapsed building and, s-she broke top-100 that same year. I wanted to be happy for her. I wanted to… but the house was so empty.”

13 year old Shiki unlocked the front door. He flicked the lights, and they blazed through the pitch blackness beyond the foyer. There was a sterile cleanliness inside, the subtle sting of lemon in the back of his throat. Between his mom’s new notoriety and his dad’s hefty child support, they could afford a personal cleaner now. Twice a week. She must have come. The apartment was spotless.

Shiki turned on the television and rooted through the cabinet and emerged with a box of cereal. He didn’t bother with a bowl. He sat on the couch instead, scrolling his phone with one hand, grabbing fistfuls of cereal with the other. The news mentioned ‘Uravity’ and Shiki turned it up. He listened to the reporters until they spiraled into her failed marriage with Pro Hero Deku, and Shiki listened no further.

He focused on his phone instead, cereal crunching. Most of the forums he followed were Uravity forums. He paused on a particular cross-posting, shared by someone irate over the click-bait bottom-feeding publications that drew readership with manufactured drama. Shiki read the headline. ~”‘She took our son!’ Pro Hero Deku sobs in a raw tell-all about the woman who broke his heart and tore apart his family to launch her own career.”~

There was a boy pictured in the article. The boy wasn’t even Shiki.

“I was 13 still, and we were moving from the apartment into a nice house, because Mom’s salary and Dad’s child support were now more than enough for a proper place. A nice place. And I did most of the house cleaning and packing myself since Mom was now so so busy… And I found, in the attic, my old box of toys, the gravity ball toys the—the ones where—me and Mom used to bop them back and forth and I… think I just… I threw them away. And the old newspaper clippings I kept about Dad. Threw them all away. Never made it to the new house. I hated them. I hated them.”

Shiki pressed his back against the attic wall, suddenly short of breath, static suddenly in his legs and rippling down his spine. He slid down, slowly, streaking the layer of dust along the wall, just like his hands had streaked away the dust on the boxes, gray lint filling the ridges on his finger tips. He stared at the layer of yellowed newsprint, the top article boasting ~”No Longer Just A Side-Kick? ‘Deku’ Makes His Agency Debut!”~

It filled him with revulsion, with a choking hurt in the ways that modern news headlines didn’t. He had forgotten the feeling associated with these old headlines. That old forgotten excitement of knowing that news outlets had come to acknowledge his dad’s existence.

Not his dad anymore. Not his. Izuku Midoriya lived in newsprint now. The media owned him, had stolen him slowly. A superhuman. A god. Not a husband. Not a father. Not Shiki’s.

“He called on the phone once a week. Just once a week, to talk about nothing. Until I was 14, that is. Once I turned 14, suddenly Dad was eager to be on the phone with me. And he’d act like he was interested in talking to me about normal stuff, but it always came back to U.A. Always U.A. Asking if I wanted to. Asking if I’d thought about it. Asking if I had any questions that he or Mom could answer about the school.”

Shiki’s voice caught.

“…Still… still makes me angry. And he just didn’t realize. I realized he had no idea. At all. Whatsoever. That what he’d done was… might have been wrong. I realized and it blew my mind. That nothing he did was ever, ever malicious. He was, is, thought he was a good person. Working so hard to save everyone. Absolute strangers. As many, as much, as endlessly eternally as he could. And he… thought I idolized that. That I looked at him and Mom and wanted to… do them proud and follow in their footsteps. And I saw him through… his own eyes I guess… and he was the world’s hero and the next All Might and the rising Symbol of Peace and he didn’t think he’d abandoned me, or Mom, he thought he’d just left us to catch up… I think he talked my mom back into heroing. Because they stayed friends, or ‘friends’, whatever you call two people who get along great so long as they ignore all the hurt between them. And… he… wanted me to enroll in U.A… THAT… was when I finally snapped at him, and we got family counseling.”

Silently, Matsuyama set his pen down, and he slid across the table a box of tissues Shiki had not noticed him take out. And Shiki took one, shocked to pad it against the stream of tears he hadn’t noticed rolling down his cheek. He stole one more glance into the mirror, ashamed of the puffy-eyed and blotchy-cheeked reflection. His dad’s freckles. His mom’s chestnut hair. He was designed piece-meal from them. No part his own. No part himself. The buzzing, overhead. Fly in the jar. Uncaring of gravity. Eternally confined to the jar’s unseeable walls.

“I saw Dad in person, for the first time in 2 years, when we went to that counselor.” Shiki let out a strained laugh. “I had literally… misremembered things about him. I had remembered him being taller but, the media just loved to prop him up at certain angles that made him taller. In street clothes, in person, he almost didn’t look like Pro Hero Deku. …And even smaller, when he cried. Because he did cry, during counseling, like honestly cried. And he apologized. I’d never – I didn’t think I would ever get an apology from him. Or like I couldn’t ask for one, didn’t deserve one, because that would be selfish. But he owned up to it… Dad cared. Dad was sorry. Dad had no idea I was this hurt. Dad thought I idolized heroes too and that he was making me proud. And I thought it would work. I thought we would finally fix this all.”

The counselor asks. The raw hurt of the session starts anew.

“I was finally able to tell him just, how invisible I felt to him. How selfish it made me feel. He listened. He cared. He stopped shilling for U.A. I went into a normal high school, one without a hero track. And the first weekend of the school year, Mom, me, and him went to an aquarium, and dinner at a fancy restaurant, and a play in the evening. I don’t like plays but, I liked that play. A lot.”

Shiki crumpled the used tissue in his hand, and then hid it beneath the table. It was wet and tainted and felt unclean in his hand, but there was no garbage can in sight, and he had nothing else he could do with it.

“And that was when Dad slipped a rank, that next month. From #7 to #8. It shouldn’t have mattered so much but, it did. He’d never fallen rank before… No actually, even worse, he’d never even stayed the same rank from one ranking release to the next. He was always climbing. For almost 20 straight years, always climbing, and this was the first time, the very first time he… Dad didn’t mention it. I didn’t mention it. But in my mind I’ve always blamed this as the like, as the turning point, toward turning back down. In reality I don’t know that for sure. Maybe our whole family was just, always destined to slip back on old habits, right from the start. It’s not like he or Mom ever went back on any promises or anything. But more like… Dad slowly stopped proposing weekend activities, and so did Mom. Until it was just me putting in that effort, and I couldn’t be the cause of him falling rank anymore. I couldn’t be the bad guy.”

Shikinori Midoriya’s blood ran cold. Red. The name, the arrow, downward-pointing, -1. Red. Red where there had only ever been green. “#8” in red, which bore no value and no merit beyond the unsightly embarrassment of being below #7.

There were sharks in the water.

Shiki knew it would be only hours until the most predatory, the most inflammatory think-piece writers pounced. Until hero forums buckled under every single anonymous layperson’s expert opinion on where, and how, and why Deku had stumbled. Was his rescue count down? Was his collateral coefficient up? Were merch sales dropping? Had his new figurine bombed? Had a hostage died? Had he yelled at a reporter? Was it the joint rescue with his money-grubbing ex-wife? His incident resolution was abnormally low two Saturdays back. Why? Where had he been? What was he thinking?

Shiki read the theories. He told himself to stop, but the scroll loaded endlessly. Some fans honed in on that weekend – the aquarium trip – fascinated by the dip in resolved incidents, circling like vultures, pecking, tearing, probing. They found an Instagram post from a fan spotting Deku in the crowd of the hammerhead exhibit, and the link got passed around like an electric current.

Had this happened a month ago, a year ago, Shiki might have just watched it unfold disaffected. Shiki’s chest ached now. He hurt for the man his mind had reconciled as his father, for the man who mimicked the guppies and pressed against the glass in the aquatic tunnel, cheeks puffed and scarred hands flapping by his ears. Shiki ached for the genuine laughter from his mother, who still loved this man and his guppy imitation. He ached for the reminder of what his family was, and what it wasn’t, and what it was punished for even trying to be.

“His agency and Mom’s started collaborating a lot. They were good together. Like really good. The two of them together, I saw a new story almost every week. Maybe I was even a little jealous but… it wasn’t something I wanted to be a part of, anyway. So I was fine with that. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t – and don’t – want to be a hero.

“I just kind of… tried to figure myself out as a person, by myself, during high school. I kept a low profile. Joined a math club. Only really talked to a few people most days. Had like, two people I sort of saw as friends. I started going by my mom’s name, Uraraka. Never told people who my parents were. And I think that was for the best, because I was still in school – I was 17 – when Dad claimed the #1 spot. …and I swear I would have had to transfer schools if my classmates knew I was Deku’s kid.”

“Front Page” did not begin to describe the explosion, the eruption, the maelstrom of obsession that gripped an entire nation’s heart and soul when Pro Hero Deku unseated the previous #1. The new report came just days after Deku performed his 10,000th recorded civilian rescue. In honor, dedicated fans had gone and compiled every drop of video coverage that ever graced Deku’s career. It was chronological, starting with grainy film 20 years’ outdated of a still-scrawny U.A. sidekick pulling a man out of rubble, and progressed like a time-lapse from there. A rescue counter sat super-imposed on the bottom-right, documenting the rescues as Deku grew taller, broader, more confident, more practiced, faster and stronger and beaming – always beaming – with a smile to instill hope in an entire nation. The whole montage was two hours in length, and it skyrocketed to the #1 trending.

A half-dozen other videos followed in its wake: a clip of Deku shaking hands with the President who pinned a simple, proper, dignified medal to the front of his costume. A shaking, trembling, sobbing hug with the skeletal and spindly public figure of Toshinori Yagi – previously known as All Might – who teared up along with Deku on stage. Chants of “Symbol”. Chants of “Peace”. Chants, louder than all others, of “Deku”.

Everywhere. Everywhere. Replaying. Tagged. Suggested. Trending. Featured. A kiss with Uravity, tender and subtle and full of passion. A handshake with Shota Aizawa, his first teacher, his long-time peer. Endless interviews with rescued victims. Tear-jerkers. A man named Kota recalling how Deku, at 15, saved him from a certain violent death. A woman named Eri detailing how Deku had taken her in his arms and rescued her from the depths of Hell.

Thousands others followed. Spine-tingling recounts from voices, with breath and warmth and life, who wouldn’t be alive without Deku. They heaped their praises on a man so endlessly driven, forward forward forward, that he could save 10,000 people, and 10,000 more, and everyone, and everything he could touch.

Shiki skipped school the whole next week. Hardly anyone noticed.

“So I got away. Far away. I figured out college all by myself, and got accepted to my top choice 1,000 kilometers away from Tokyo, and it was perfect for me, because maybe then I could figure myself out for a bit, away from everything. Mom asked me to reconsider when I finally saw her in person four days after I’d accepted. She’d been on a sting mission for two straight weeks. They saved fifty people. It earned her her spot as the #15 Hero. My dad had saved twice as many people in that time. Not that I heard it from him. I heard it on the news. I didn’t speak to him again until after I graduated.”

Shiki breathed. “College… was good. It was far away enough that I stopped being afraid of people recognizing me at a glance. I made real friends. I had real relationships. Got to know my professors. Took up tutoring and loved it. I… did things on the weekends, like with friends, went places, saw things, I was happy. Genuinely happy. All these things I never realized I was missing as a kid because I never realized I could have an identity outside of being just… Deku’s reject son. I stopped fearing that and started to be me. I traveled during school breaks. Took some pottery classes. Just… breathed.” Shiki’s hands fidgeted. “At least… until I graduated. And I realized there was a whole cliff I was standing over that I was just avoiding. I didn’t have a job lined up. I tried. For absolute certain. I lost count around the 75 application mark. Nothing. My college friends moved away. My funds were drying up. …I moved back home.”

One duffle bag, slung across his right shoulder, was all Shikinori Midoriya brought home with him. This big house from his teenage years was empty. Endless untouched rooms. Pristine duvets across the beds in all 5 bedrooms, including master. Empty dressers. Empty drawers. Not so much as fingerprints on the front doorknob. Only his mom lived here now, and Shiki fought with the blooming certainty he felt in his gut that she spent almost no time here at all.

Uravity was now the #7 hero. Her merch sales were particularly popular with girls ages 5-12. The money she raked it was enough to put her parents up permanently in a beach house in Hawaii. Money would likely never be a worry for her for as long as she lived. She likely never sold this home because it simply wasn’t worth the hassle.

Shiki set his bag down in his old room, bigger and cleaner and newer and nicer than his college apartment, and so much more a cage than it had ever been before.

Fly in a jar.

“Moving home was… a rough choice. I thought a lot, before that, about just asking Mom and Dad for money. They could definitely afford it. But I couldn’t… be that again, the reject son, some unwanted parasite, pilfering money. I just needed enough stability to get back into the job hunt and get back on my feet. I told Mom that much. I didn’t tell Dad. Didn’t even tell him I’d moved back home but, he found out from Mom. He wanted to see me. Wanted to talk to me. I’d ignored all his calls in college… I decided to bite the bullet and just, go into his office and see him. Let him lay eyes on his failure son. Get it over with. I told him about college, and about my job hunt, and just needing enough time to get back on my feet. And you know what he said?”

Matsuyama glanced up. His pen still trailed. “What did he say?”

“’I could use another accountant at the agency, even a receptionist, if you don’t want to deal with crunching numbers. Given some time and training… I could even use another side kick.’” Shiki looked up, locking eyes with Matsuyama, and blinked away the tears blurring his vision. “Math… was my best subject in school. I want… to be a math teacher. I’ve been sending out a hundred applications for teaching positions. Dad doesn’t know that. Dad… is still living in this world where everything is heroes. And of course he is! He’s lived there his whole life! He never left it! And he’s still waiting for me to join. Waiting for me to change my mind. Like time is the only factor. That world stole my parents and he… and he still thinks that, things can be fine, he can get his way. He thinks, I’ll do what my mom did, and play catch up to him. That I’ll come into my own. That I’ll join him in his hero world. Him and Mom both. That I would want anything to do with heroes. He won’t believe otherwise.”

Shiki struck an open palm against his chest. “Well he’s not getting that. He’s NOT getting this quirk! Not now! Not ever! I’m GETTING RID OF IT. I want to be part of Dr. Himura’s Quirk-Erasure study because, until I’m fully stripped of my Quirk, my Dad and my Mom won’t get it. I know – all those guys out in the waiting room? I know they’re all villains. Probably this whole study is villains, yeah?! They’re all people who’ve been offered reduced sentences if they willingly give up their quirk in this study. Maybe you have a few normal people with dangerous quirks who want to be rid of it but me. My quirk. I stand out, I know, I get it. Because gravity control is cool. And it’s harmless. So why would I want to get rid of it, permanently? This is why. Because everything I’ve spouted off, it, all that probably sounds like some villain-origin-story, yeah?? ‘My hero father never loved me so now he will pay.’ No. No heroes and no villains I’m sick of all of them. This ends here. This ends with me! No more heroes, no more villains. No more POWERS in the Midoriya blood line! This is a non-origin story. This is the origin of me! This is the start of me taking back what heroes took from me!”

Shiki’s breath caught in his throat. He felt the tears wetting his cheeks and knew he had no power to stop them this time, not with the mangled tightness in his chest, not with the hurt bubbling long-repressed to the surface. So he wiped hastily at his eyes, and he stared down at the desk below him.

“I’ve thought this through. I know what I want. I’m not being coerced. I’m of a sound mind and body. I just… want a normal, happy, powerless life. I want to be normal. And I need this final leap, to prove to my family once and for all they can’t have me. I need this control. I need this trump card. I need this final, unchangeable, irreversible option to make them get it. That they can accept me quirkless… or they can not accept me at all.” Shiki lowered himself, and set his eyes to his lap. “Please… Please, I’m begging you.”

Matsuyama let the pen clink to the table. Shiki could not get an accurate count, but at least 40 pages had been flipped over the clipboard’s spiraled top. Matsuyama unfurled these pages, and steadied their alignment, and tucked the board beneath his arm. His chair scraped back with an unholy shriek, and he stood.

“Thank you. We will let you know in due time about your candidacy in the study.”

Matsuyama motioned for the door.

“Wait…” Shiki swallowed. His mouth had gone dry. His ears were ringing slightly. “Can’t you tell me now?”

“The decisions have not been made. How can I tell you now?”

“What about just me then? Y-yes or no?”

“You will be informed in due time.”

“When? How soon?”

Matsuyama motioned again.

“Yes or no? Please. Can you let me be part of this or not?”

“The next patient is coming in, Shiki. See yourself out.”

…

Inko Midoriya’s apartment was small, and it was stayed, and it was comfortable. Her son had offered her time and time again to move her into a nicer place, but she always declined. This apartment was where she’d raised her family. These walls had memories. This was her home.

It felt almost like a memory, just now. Out of the corner of Inko’s eye, seeing the young man with curly hair and green eyes seated at her kitchen table was achingly familiar, the ghost of family dinners with her son.

10 minutes had passed since Inko pulled the rack of cookies from the oven, a warm miasma of buttery sweetness, and laid them out to cool. She grabbed one now, quick touches, experimentally, until the heat didn’t quite burn her fingers, and placed it on a plate. She did the same with a second cookie, and carried them like a server to the table where she took the seat opposite Shiki. He watched her, and accepted the cookie with a quiet ‘thank you’, and merely stared at it. He let the warmth wash across his face.

“I’m happy to have you back around Tokyo, you know,” Inko said quietly. She looked down at her own cookie, smiling slightly, and picked it up. “Happy to have someone to bake for.”

“I’m happy to see you too, Grandma. It’s been a while.” Shiki bit into his cookie. It was warm, and soft, and achingly comforting. Shiki wasn’t used to the taste of homecooked anything. It squeezed something in his ribcage, made him hurt in a gentle way. “It’s delicious,” he whispered, and raised the heel of his palm to wipe the wetness there.

“You can… you know you can stay with me, Shiki. I’d be happy. I want you to. I know it’s not as big a place as Ochaco’s home, but, Izuku’s old room is still here. There’s still… You could still…”

Shiki shook his head. “If I stay with you, it’ll be so much harder to leave. I’m still job hunting. No guarantees I’ll end up anywhere near here.”

The silence spread between them. The warmth of Shiki’s cookie wafted away, sapping off, like steam curling from a lake.

“…You don’t want to end up living around here, do you, Shiki?”

“Not if I can help it,” Shiki answered.

Inko turned in her chair, and motioned her hand toward the rest of the cookies cooling on the rack. Quirk activated, she pulled them each closer, and let them each fall onto the empty plate that sat between her and Shiki. Still gooey, they seemed to melt into each other, taking form of those beneath them. Inko nudged the plate closer to Shiki, encouraging him to take another.

He did. He bit the cookie. Warm.

“…I’m sorry, Shiki, about the study. I know you had your heart set on it.”

Shiki shrugged. “Matsuyama said there weren’t enough slots. He said he needed to prioritize better candidates. People who would really benefit from losing their quirk.”

Silence, again.

“It wouldn’t have changed things, you know. If it makes you feel any better, Shiki. You having a quirk was never the problem."

Shiki paused mid-bite. The lump in his throat made it too hard to swallow.

“How do you deal with it, Grandma? You’ve been dealing with it so much longer, right? Because I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

Inko gave him a small smile that didn’t quite touch her eyes. “You’re right, but… I don’t think I have a good answer for you, Shiki. It’s lonely here. I miss him. I’m afraid for him. But maybe I’m just, maybe I’ve just gotten used to it. It’s been like this ever since he enrolled in U.A. Since he was little. It was what made him happy. I’m his mother, and I’m supposed to set aside my own feelings for my child.” Inko nudged the cookies toward Shiki again. “But you, that burden should never have been on you. Especially not as a child. I’m sorry, Shiki, I’m so sorry.”

“So he’s… always been like this, is what you’re saying, yeah? It wasn’t—it’s not just me he doesn’t want—”

“No. Not you. Definitely not you, Shiki,” Inko insisted. “It’s who he is. Who he’s always been. …Who he’ll always be, I think. Even when he was 3 or 4 years old, so small he fit in my lap… He’s… so incredibly kind, and so incredibly driven, and it’s a combination that breaks a mother’s heart. Because it meant he was always sacrificing himself for others in danger. Doing what All Might would do. But All Might doesn’t have a family; he doesn’t have children. I wonder, sometimes, who All Might left behind, to become who he was. If that’s who we are.”

Shiki put his cookie down. His hands curled in, and he looked at them, ridged fingertips, ridged palms, obligated to use them heroically or not at all. Marks he never asked for.

“But why did he have to be All Might? Why him? Why us? Ice Razer and Creati have a daughter. They dote on her. They love her so much it’s embarrassing. I’ve met her, once, at a reunion thing that Mom and Dad had. And I was angry at her. How much she smiled. How you can just see how proud Ice Razer is, in his eyes, every time he looks at her. Ice Razer was on track to be the #1 hero, ahead of Dad, and he’s said publicly that he no longer cares about his ranking if it means being there for his family, because his dad never was. Dad didn’t… Dad never… He was putting in 120 hour weeks, at the time Ice Razer’s daughter was born, when I was sitting home waiting up for him, because old news headlines estimated that All Might put in 119 hour weeks in his prime, and Dad had to be that. Ice Razer visits his mother! When was the last time Dad came to see you, Grandma?”

Inko Midoriya responded with only a sad smile. “It’s been a while.”

“Ground Zero and Red Riot. Their adopted son, I’ve met him too. You wouldn’t think Ground Zero of all people would be any kind of good father but… he is… apparently… And that’s… fuck, you know what? That’s all I want to be. A good dad. That’s all! I want to teach math, and I want to fall in love with a girl, and marry her, and I want to be there. Just be there. For my kid. I want to spend every weekend with my family. I want to be around for every dinner. I want to help with homework. And I want no one – no villains and no heroes – to ever know my name. Is that too much, Grandma? Is it selfish of me to want that… and to want Mom and Dad to still love me too?”

Shiki’s voice cracked. He hadn’t meant for it to. He hadn’t meant for his composure to slip, or for those final words to come out. He hadn’t meant to open up that hollow ache in his chest, where that fear sat deep and rotten.

His next words were wet. “Is it too selfish of me to just want them to be proud of me?”

“Oh, oh Shiki…” Inko shoved her chair back. Hands extended, she rounded the table, and she wrapped her arms around Shiki. Kind hands, kind like Shiki was not used to. His vision blurred, and he pulled a hand up to wrap around Inko’s arm, and he leaned into her.

“I told him, Grandma…” he muttered, voice still wet. “…I told Dad that I got accepted to Matsuyama’s study. I told him I already went through with it.”

“What?”

Shiki shook his head. “I know it was wrong. I just… I hoped. I don’t know. I just wanted him, maybe, for once… I don’t know…”

“What did he say?”

Shiki shrugged, his movement muted under Inko’s hug. “I don’t know. I hung up. I just hung up.”

…

The beach air was cold, and it was briny. Wind curled off the lapping waves, spritzing All Might’s face with a spray of ocean water that was not wholly unpleasant. It reminded him of a time long-since passed.

The sound of footsteps met his ears. He did not turn, not immediately. All Might breathed in the ocean air a little longer.

“How… how have you been?” The voice – the man beside him – asked.

“Oh, you know. Same old same old. I’ve got this pesky ache in my knee that’s catching up to me. Recovery Girl recommends I start doing some swimming exercises. I’ve been considering it. It might suit these old bones.”

“Oh! I know a few gyms nearby with pool facilities. I-I can get you into them, you know, for free. I’m sure I could—”

All Might held a hand up. “What, do you think I don’t still have connections of my own, Young Midoriya?”

“S-sorry.”

All Might turned properly now, catching sight of Izuku Midoriya, a man so accomplished in the public eye looking familiarly helpless at his side. This beach held memories. Izuku was hardly recognizable from the first day All Might had brought him here for training, and in other ways, he looked exactly the same.

“You called me here to talk about Shikinori, right?” All Might continued. He stared back out at the sea, dark and getting darker. The sun has set 10 minutes prior. “You said he lost his quirk.”

Izuku remained quiet.

“He… had it taken away. He chose to do it, he said.”

“Why?”

Again, silence settled between them. All Might looked back, scanning Izuku’s face, taking in a look mangled with confusion and concern, unsettled and helpless. Not the beaming face on television. Not the endless smile to instill fear in the hearts of villains.

“…I think it was because of me,” Izuku finally answered.

Waves, lapping to shore. All Might found himself watching them again. “A quirkless life is not so bad. These past 30 years have been peaceful for me.”

Static settled in the air around them. Rolling ocean. Gentle wind.

All Might let out a small sigh. “What advice are you looking for, from me, Young Midoriya?”

“I… need to know if this is okay with you. If my plan is okay with you,” Izuku answered.

“As your concerned mentor, I’ve found I don’t like most of your plans,” All Might answered. “What is your plan?”

“Shikinori lost his quirk because of me… I wasn’t there for him. I wasn’t… I wasn’t a good father to him, I think. I was waiting for him to come to me but. I messed up. I need to go to him now. I can think of only one way I have to make it up to him.” Izuku looked up. Conflict pulled at his pained expression, and his fist curled. “Maybe, if I give him One for All, I can fix this.”

Another spritz of ocean spray hit the shore. All Might could feel the salt crystalizing on his face.

“I was right. I don’t like your plan.” All Might turned, and took a step toward Izuku, and laid a hand on his shoulder. “No. That’s my answer. No, I do not approve.”

Izuku seemed to buckle, just a little. He curled one hand in and rested it on All Might’s, still on his shoulder. The shadows of nightfall hid his eyes, but not his mouth, pained and strained at the corners. “Then what can I do to fix this?”

“Why do you think that giving Shikinori One for All would fix this in the first place? Do you really believe that his quirk is the root of the problem? Do you?”

Izuku’s hand trailed down. He shook his head, slowly. The words that came out were pained. “Ochaco and I… are back together again. We’re making this work. We’re… we’re putting the pieces of our family back together. We just need Shikinori. I just want him back with us…”

“…I told you this 20 years ago, Young Midoriya, and I’ll tell you it again. And it will hurt worse now to hear it, because you didn’t follow my advice the first time--”

“I thought I could do both.”

“—You cannot be the Symbol of Peace and have a family. There aren’t enough hours in a lifetime. …I left people behind—”

“I know.”

“—people I cared about. People who cared about me. I hurt them, and I knew I hurt them—”

“I know.”

“And that was my choice. I made that decision. Because protecting the peace of the whole world… that was more important to me than the people I hurt. I carry the burden of that decision every day. …I told you, 20 years ago, that you had to make that decision too.”

“I know, I just thought maybe, with both Ochaco and me—”

“And you did. You did make that decision. You’re the Symbol of Peace, and I’m proud of you for that, …and you’ll have to carry that same burden, too, of that decision you made.”

Izuku’s hand was curled around All Might’s sleeve now. He was smaller now than the man who first arrived at the beach, and so, so much smaller than the Symbol of Peace lauded in headlines across the nation. His shoulders trembled. Tears dripped down the curvature of his nose, lost to the briny sand below.

All Might continued. “This is one piece of advice I can give you… Stop saddling Shiki with that same burden… Don’t give him that weight to bear. Don’t trap him in the world of heroes. Let him go.”

Izuku pulled in a shuddering breath, and he steadied his shoulders.

“…I failed him, didn’t I, All Might…?”

Another lap of waves at the shore, forging eternally onward. There was an ache in All Might’s knees, a rattle to his old bones, a pain that never ceased throbbing in his side. He wondered how long ago it had been, exactly, since he first made this decision himself. How many pulls of the tide since he last saw his mother. How many moons since the earth had reclaimed her. How many breaths of wind had passed since the very last time she thought of him.

He wondered, not for the first time, if it had been selfish of him to trade her, and everyone else away for the protection of all the people he’d never known or loved.

All Might reached down, and he pulled Izuku into a hug. Come daylight, Izuku would have to smile again, on every television and every billboard and every broadcast and every rescue. For now, All Might figured, it was fine to let him cry.

“…Yes. I’m sorry. I’m to blame for this too. I pulled you down this path. But… yes. You failed him.”

All Might ran a hand over Izuku’s hair as his cries grew louder. All Might wondered if Izuku had ever held Shiki like this. He wouldn’t know. All Might wasn’t a father. All Might had no son. Whether that was selfish or selfless, he still did not know.

The wind picked up to a howl, and it swept into shore, and it drowned Izuku’s cries beneath it.

By tomorrow, Izuku would be smiling on the news.

By tomorrow, Shiki would be on a train to an interview far north in Akita.

By tomorrow, Inko would be alone again.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #mha #bnha fanfiction #long post #so ive been writing this fic since OCTOBER #its transcended all emotional relation to me and now simply IS #(i remember years ago the Read More function broke on mobile and i hope thats NOT the case now)#if so: my sincere apologies

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ancient-day · 3 years

Note

It wouldn't be bad at all, if anything characters like Akc get villainized and bad ends and it would be so shitty to be like "the bad survivor doesn't get to make it". Especially after stringing people along for so many years, it would be shitty to take that away. And yup, ppl are ok with a male character being angry but not showing any other emotions. Its weird I've read fics for characters older and who did worse than Akc and they still did happy endings well cont.

People are fine with protags who have done worse than him. I don't know what it is about Akc that makes this impossible to find in this fandom, it could be how dudero influenced it is, that it's a video game with anime aesthetics, I just don't get it. Sorry if I'm talking too much I just never felt like I could talk about this to anyone and have them get it!

Okay first let me just say that you have nothing to apologize for, and it makes me really happy that you feel comfortable sharing your feelings in my askbox, so please feel free!! This is a Goro love zone, and I’m so glad others are interested in healing narratives for him because sometimes it really does seem like people only want him to get worse, and it can be so depressing to constantly see that.

But yeah, it’s so, so important to remember what Ann said: He was a victim they couldn’t save. And I believe one of the biggest tragedies in what happens to him is that he’s the one who deserved a second chance the most out of all their targets, but he was the one denied (yes I’m choosing to ignore Okumura because fuck that guy I could go on a whole rant about how Atlus fucked up in making him a victim in any sense of the word lmao). Thankfully, it’s almost undeniable at this point that he’s alive, and so I hope Atlus allows him to have this chance to figure himself out and start becoming the person he wants to be.

Like I dunno, maybe it’s just because imo, murder is always the go-to for “THIS CHARACTER EVIL” that murder alone is not enough to tell me anything about that character. Instead, I’m interested in why, what their motivations are, who are they outside of that action, etc. etc. So when people write him off simply because of that, it really doesn’t make sense to me, especially when like you said, people adore other protags who have killed and done worse.

I only have my own perspective to go off, and so this is just Jest ObservationTM, but I think a lot of “unhealthy/toxic/abusive goro” in his fanworks is because people are drawn to the antagonistic side of him and are larger fans of the enemies part of their enemies to lovers (in the case of shu/ake), and just that interest in exploring that sort of dynamic. I personally don’t vibe with cruel Goro because even the game tells us that he’s not cruel enough to come up with the plans Shido puts them all through, and Maruki even says that their relationship isn’t based in hatred or ill-will and confirms that they do understand one another, and Goro does value his bond with Akira. I know this isn’t a shu/ake discussion, but his relationship with Akira (platonic or romantic) is a great example of how he’s growing already.

#I hope this was the continued message D: if not my bad!#in this house we love and appreciate the lad #jest answers #anonymous

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frywen-babbles · 5 years

Text

Sounds of Silence pt1

A/N: Modern AU with Mitsunari! This is loosely tied to Everything comes with a price, set over a year after it. Unlike before, there won’t be a set release schedule bc this fic isn’t completely finished yet. (I just need some validation and motivation oTL). A big thank you to @dear-mrs-otome for telling me this idea doesn’t completely suck <3

Also spoilers for Mitsunari’s route!

When he opened the door all he could do was stare.

Behind it stood a young woman. And not just any young woman but the one he had seen at the library countless times reading books to kids in sign language. The woman he secretly always hoped he’d see when he went to the library, whose smile he couldn’t stop thinking about.

***

At first, Mitsunari was annoyed by the voices coming somewhere out of sight. Libraries were supposed to be where you could study in peace, he had no idea what could cause such a ruckus.

The sound of laughter guided him to the children’s section of the library, but what he saw wasn’t what he expected.

A young woman was standing in front of a group of kids, a book open in front of her, animatedly reading the book in sign language. The kids were excited, laughing and giggling at the what he assumed were the exciting parts of the story.

Mitsunari felt enamoured, his annoyance long forgotten. He didn’t even realise he had stared until the story was over and all the kids were circling her, trying to talk to her all at once. Her smile brightened her face and she looked so natural and happy amongst the kids Mitsunari felt almost jealous.

Just then, she caught him staring. He felt his face heat up and he turned around sharply, stomping back to the table he had reserved for himself. He planted his face firmly on the book open in front of him.

Gods, that was embarrassing. Who goes around staring random women, when they were supposed to study. Ughh…

*****

He saw her walk towards the children's section from the corner of his eye and somehow his head turned to look after her. She stopped to wait for a boy in his teens to bounce all excited to her a book in his hands. They shared a greeting but Mitsunari couldn't follow the signs they spoke with. It didn't stop him from staring after them when they continued on their way towards the room where he had seen her read to the kids.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?"

Mitsunari turned to look at Sakon who looked at him a wide smile on his face.

"Or are you too busy staring after women to tutor me?"

"If you have time to lazy around and comment on everything I do, you must be ready for a quiz about all the important battles post-Honno-ji?"

"Ack! No! Don't you have any mercy, we just went through them 30 minutes ago?"

"Then what are you doing fooling around, you incorrigible dimwit. Get back to studying."

"I'm sure no one would have made me work this hard in the Sengoku period..." Sakon mumbled with a sigh.

"What was that?"

"I'm studying!"

When he was finally free of Sakon, he made his way to the children's section. But it was quiet, the children long gone. He was just about to turn around when he noticed a schedule on the wall. She would be back in an hour.

He could wait for that long.

Wait, maybe he shouldn't? Would that be weird? But he really did want to see her read again.

He didn't see her until he got up to get some coffee from a vending machine. She was sitting on the sofas next to it with the same boy as before, lost in an animated discussion he could only guess the topic off.

A part of him wanted to loiter so he could watch them talk, but the reasonable part of his brain forced him to return to his table.

As soon as he saw her followed by the silver-haired boy he stuffed his things to his bag and stood up to follow her. A group of excited kids were already waiting for her but he stayed behind until everyone had sat down. Then he stepped behind the parents by the door, his eyes following the movements of her hands taking in every sign.

Unlike before, this time when she was finished she kept glancing at the clock and hurried away as soon as possible, almost colliding with him. The silver-haired boy tried to stop her but after some hurried signs let her go. The look on the boys face looked a bit like a lost puppy and for some reason seeing her hurry away like that made Mitsunari feel a bit same.

He was brushing his teeth in the evening when he felt the buzz of his phone in his pocket.

[23:12:45] <<bookshy>> do u evr feel like ur stuck in ur life? [23:12:52] <<bookshy>> like u shld hve accomplishd so much mor in ur life tn u hve?

He stared at the screen for a while before he typed a reply. He didn't know who bookshy was, not really. They had been talking with each other for years, but always with nicknames, always through messages in the internet. It felt more comfortable that way somehow. Knowing there was always a person willing to listen to you without judging.

[23:13:05] <<ManjuDreamer>> Are you feeling like that right now? [23:13:07] <<bookshy>> ya [23:13:11] <<bookshy>> i dunno wht ill do w/ my life [23:13:19] <<bookshy>> i thght id do so mch more u know? [23:13:22] <<bookshy>> and now i jst feel liek im stuck nd see no way out [23:13:23] <<bookshy>> is ths my life now? [23:14:50] <<bookshy>> evry1 says i shld b happy w/ wht i hve [23:14:59] <<bookshy>> i hve so much im feeling ungrateful whn i feel like ths [24:15:46] <<ManjuDreamer>> You still have plenty of time to accomplish your dreams. It's not for others to decide when you can be happy. [23:16:02] <<bookshy>> guess ur rite

He heard a knock on the bathroom door and quickly finished brushing his teeth. When he opened the door Hideyoshi was standing behind it already in his pyjamas.

"I thought you'd never come out," he commented with a yawn and pushed past him to the bathroom.

"Good night," Mitsunari wished to the closed door before he retreated back to his room.

[23:18:30] <<bookshy>> how was ur day [23:18:49] <<bookshy>> i saw the prettiest person today like hot damn [23:19:13] <<ManjuDreamer>> I saw an interesting person today too, I wish I get to see them again. Other than that, it was mostly my student being an idiot, so nothing new. [23:19:53] <<ManjuDreamer>> I tried to do some research on a paper I'm writing, but it didn't progress much. I was just about to go to bed so I have energy to study more tomorrow. [23:19:56] <<bookshy>> srry to keep u up [23:19:57] <<bookshy>> night! [23:20:10] <<ManjuDreamer>> Night.

***

Mitsunari tossed the wig from his head frustrated, running his hand over his face. He glanced at the mirror of the bathroom, at the perfectly drawn eyeliner, the perfect shade of blush, the perfectly applied foundation. The perfect set of lies, painted on his face.

[13:33:14] <<ManjuDreamer>> I went to see my mother.

He hesitated a bit before he sent the message. It didn't take long for his phone to bling with a reply.

[13:34:29] <<bookshy>> how did it go? [13:34:48] <<ManjuDreamer>> As well as you would expect. [13:34:51] <<bookshy>> u wanna t alk about it?

His fingers ghosted over the screen of his phone before he put it down and looked at the mirror again. He reached for the makeup removal wipes from his bag and scrubbed furiously at his skin until the last remains of the makeup were gone.

[13:36:18] <<ManjuDreamer>> She's there but I feel like I'm losing her. [13:37:01] <<ManjuDreamer>> Every time I visit she seems further and further away. [13:37:15]<<ManjuDreamer>> Sometimes I wonder if the mother I used to know is there at all.

He started to type his next message, but stopped, gripping his phone tight in his hand.

[13:38:34] <<ManjuDreamer>> She's my mother, but it's so hard. [13:38:42] <<ManjuDreamer>> I don't know what to do.

He glanced at the mirror to make sure his eyes weren't red before he pulled his shirt over his head and replaced it with one from his bag.

[13:38:47] <<bookshy>> ur doing plenty already [13:38:49] <<bookshy>> u dont have to push urself so hard [13:38:50] <<bookshy>> im sure shed understand [13:38:59] <<ManjuDreamer>> But I'm all she has. [13:39:02] <<bookshy>> i know [13:39:06] <<bookshy>> but u hhave 2 thnk abt urself frst [13:39:15] <<bookshy>> if u feel its too much u can keep a brek. ur not prfect. u dnt have 2 b [13:39:50] <<bookshy>> im alws hr 2 tlk if u need me [13:40:20] <<ManjuDreamer>> Thank you. It means a lot.

He put his phone on the side of the sink and wiggled out of his skirt. He really should buy a new one next time he got paid for tutoring. The zipper didn't work properly anymore and the hem was starting to fray. He kicked the flats from his feet and looked at the kneehigh socks on his feet. They wouldn't be visible under his pants anyway so he let them be and took his pants and shoes from his bag before showing the skirt and shirt in their place. He considered showing the wig in after them but realised making the wig presentable after that would be too much of a hassle. So he gently combed the wig with his fingers to sort out biggest tangles and folded it neatly in a mesh bag. Flats into a plastic bag, then into the bag.

Like countless times before.

He got dressed and made one final glance at the mirror before he put the bag on his shoulder and stepped out of the bathroom.

"Oh, Mitsunari! Here to see your mother?" a nurse greeted him when he tried to slip past the nurses' office without being noticed. What a nosy bunch of quidnuncs insistent of mothering him.

“Yes. I was just leaving.” He replied with a stiff bow.

“Come and have some tea with us! How did the test go you told me last time?” Another nurse poked her head from the office. Mitsunari resisted the urge to roll his eyes and offered another bow.

“I believe it went well. I still haven’t received the results.”

Half an hour later he was still stuck at the nurses' office surrounded by what felt like a flock of mother hens, all determined to squeeze every bit of information out of him they could. He was just getting up from his chair when a voice behind him froze him on the spot.

"Did my darling Saki leave already? She was just here... Such a dutiful daughter, coming to see her mother so often..."

His knuckles turned white as he squeezed the edge of the table, his head down. He wanted to turn around. He wanted to see his mother as himself. He wanted... needed to see if she'd recognise him this time.

"We saw her leave a while ago, Mrs Ishida. She's such a nice girl."

He heard a nurse walk his mother away and the sighs of relief from the remaining nurses.

"Are you alright, Mitsunari? You know we'll listen to you if you need to talk. Or we can help you find someone-"

"I need to go now. Goodbye," Mitsunari interrupted the nurse who had put her hand on his shoulder to calm him. He got up in such haste his chair fell to the floor with a rattle, but he just offered a quick bow before he fled the office.

He didn't stop until he arrived at the bus stop. There he sank on the bench, burying his face on his hands.

He took the bus to the library, staring idly out of the window.

[14:36:09] <<bookshy>> did u make it home [14:36:35] <<ManjuDreamer>> No. I'm heading to the library. The nurses got me again. [14:36:37] <<bookshy>> lol how did u mnage 2 escpe [18:36:56] <<ManjuDreamer>> Mother came to the office. [14:37:09] <<bookshy>> oh no [14:37:10] <<bookshy>> im so sorry [14:37:21] <<bookshy>> how r u feeling rn? [14:38:29] <<ManjuDreamer>> I don't know. I'll try to find some reading to distract myself with.

At the library, he searched for materials for his upcoming paper but when he sat down and tried to read, the words didn't make any sense.

When he had read the same page several times over and still remembered absolutely nothing he was interrupted from his reading by a book shoved on top of the one he was just reading.

"Can't you see I'm-!" the sharp words died on his lips when he saw the same woman who had read to the kids in front of him. She tapped on the note on top of the book and he looked down to read it.

'This is the book I was reading. You seemed interested'

She handed him a second book, a note on top of it too.

'I'll read this next'

When she shifted her weight from one foot to another clearly uncomfortable, he realised he was staring. He offered her a curt nod as a thank you and she bowed at him a small relieved smile on her lips. She seemed to hesitate before she signed something but he had to shake his head.

There was a slight shift on her smile, on her posture, and she took a step back.

'I'm sorry' she mouthed and offered him a bow before she all but fled, leaving him to sit alone, feeling like an idiot.

[16:19:20] <<ManjuDreamer>> I think I just made a complete fool out of myself. [16:29:59] <<bookshy>> lol rly? [16:30:00] <<bookshy>> wht did u do? [16:30:02] <<bookshy>> i thght fool wasnt in ur dicktionary [16:31:18] <<ManjuDreamer>> And for that terrible joke, I tell you nothing. [16:31:47] <<bookshy>> noooo hw wll i evr know how embarassng u can be if u don tell me? [16:32:32] <<ManjuDreamer>> You'll survive.

***

"She's not here today."

Mitsunari was startled from his thoughts by a familiar voice behind him. He turned around, vaguely aware of the frown his irritation had brought on his face.

"Who?" he asked as if he didn't know exactly who was the 'she' in question.

"I got this for you, I'm sure it holds some useful information." Mr Otani handed him a flyer for the children's activities in the local libraries. Mitsunari stared at the flyer blankly before he looked at Mr Otani, letting his irritation show.

"And what am I supposed to do with this?"

Mr Otani just smiled and pushed a book towards him as well.

"I'm sure you'll find this useful as well. Come find me if you need anything else."

Before he had time to protest Mr Otani left him with a wave, a wide smile on his face. He considered running or yelling after him, but changed his mind when he looked at the book in his hand.

'Sign language for beginners'

He tucked the children's program leaflet securely at the back of his calendar and checked the book out.

Something about the sign language intrigued him. She looked so graceful when signing. And so comfortable and she seemed genuinely love reading to the children.

At first, he thought he’d look up a few signs. Just in case some of the children needed help in the library. Just so he could talk to her. No, he meant the kids. So he could talk to the kids. But few turned into a few hundred. A few thousand. He was so lost.

***

#slbp #slbp fanfic #ishida mitsunari #toyotomi hideyoshi #voltage fanfic #frywen writes #sounds of silence fic

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sheerioasteroidpanda · 4 years

Text

Couple’s Holiday, Getting Dicked Good and Monster Girls

Uhh so as usually, when I’m most stressed I write and lately I’ve been reallyyyyyyyyy feeling some Ed Sheeran story so I wrote this. It’s just short and silly and yeah. Just blah. I know I haven’t written anything for tumblr in a while and my AO3 is kind of dead but its cause I let a snide comment get to me plus I’ve been super busy with finishing up college so. Anyways enough rambling. Here’s my first Ed fan fic in a long time. And yes, I used my name cause I’m lazy and selfish and needy for Ed.

"Babe?"

"YEAH?" amanda shouted from her position on the couch, which was currently upside down, legs on the head rest and head on the foot rest.

"Why are you yelling?" Ed asked not looking up from his phone as he entered the condo he had rented for the holidays.

"Oh sorry, thought you were farther away. All the blood is rushing in my ears and it's kinda hard to hear."

"What the hell are you doing?" Ed asked finally looking up to see his girlfriend sitting the complete wrong way with her head nearly touching the floor.

"I dunno, what are youuu doing?" Amanda grinned back. They had been staying at a luxury condo in Colorado Springs for the past 2 weeks and she was getting antsy. While it was supposed to be a holiday vacation, Ed had gotten together with a few music buddies and of course, being Ed, had worked the whole 2 weeks. She didn't mind, she loved seeing him happy and working but still… antsy.

"Wanna go to a party tonight?" Ed checked his phone again as it dinged.

"Hmmmmm what kinda party? We takin party hard party? Rave party? Club party? Pub/dive bar party? You gotta fill a girl in here, ginger boy" amanda rolled over so she was sprawled on the long couch laying on her stomach, her feet kicking in the air.

"Oh I'll fill a girl alright!" Ed wiggled his eyebrows and quickly pocketed his phone so his hands were free to grab Amanda's sides and tickle her. "Fill her right up with my ginger cock is what i’ll do!"

"Edward!" Amanda squealed and wiggled trying to get away. Or maybe get closer, it could be hard to tell sometimes. "You're so lewd!"

"Aye but you love it" ed said as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek, his body now laying fully on top of hers.

"Nah, i love you" amanda said while pushing her hips up to rub against his groin.

Ed nearly growled at the friction. "Babe before we start, do you want to go out tonight? It'll be club and my friends will be there" ed explained as he trailed kisses behind her ear and down her neck.

"Oh" amanda said softly trying to focus. "Which friends?"

"Hmm?" Ed mumbled while he rested back on his hunches and started to push up Amanda's top.

"Ed which friends are going to be there tonight?" Amanda asked a little more firmly.

"Uh, I don't know, probably Dillion and JB and Dia and…" ed listed off a few others.

Amanda felt her heart sploot a little, these were definitely not her types of people. "Uh, why don't you just go. I know you'll have a lot more fun without me to be your ball and chain" saying a little more cheerfully than necessary.

"You don't want to go? Is it cause of Justin? You know he's grown up now. Just like I did." Ed says seriously, all future sexy times are thrown out the window.

Sighing amanda scooted out from under ed so she could sit properly. "I know ed but i just don't enjoy his company not to mention a few others you mentioned would be there. You know that's not my scene anyways. Id just be awkward and distract you from having a good time. Go have fun with your friends. Seeing them is just as important as seeing me or seeing family."

"Dear god I love you" ed said, cupping Amanda's cheek and giving her a sweet and light kiss. "What about you, love? What will you do if i go out?"

Amanda laughed loudly "darlin i have a bottle of wine in the fridge, internet connection and my kindle app. I promise ill be fine for a few hours." It was amanda's turn to give ed a peck on the lips. "Go. Have fun. I'll be here enjoying me time."

"God i fucking love you!" Ed said excitedly as he jumped up after kissing her again and grabbing his jacket and ran towards the door.

"Wait!" Amanda shouted just as he was about to close the door. Ed poked his head back in with a question.

"Phone?" A nod.

"Wallet?" Another nod.

"Keys?" Amanda asked with a raised eyebrow as she looked from him to the coffee table in front of her with his keys sitting on it.

"Have I mentioned you are the most wonderful woman ever to exist?" Ed said as he sheepishly came back inside and grabbed his keys.

"Hmm ill be sure to let your mom know you said as such" amanda grinned wickedly.

Ed gasped "you wouldn't"

"I will if you don't leave right now. You're gonna miss all the fun."

Ed rushed out the door with a final, ‘love you!’ and left Amanda on her own once again. Sighing to herself, she allowed herself to pout at being left alone once again but only for a moment. She truly meant what she said about wanting him to see his friends. And it wasn’t that she didn’t not like some of his friends, she just knew she wouldn’t enjoy herself. If she wasn’t enjoying herself, she didn’t want to distract Ed with her problems.

But honestly, did he have to leave her all hot and bothered? Just rude. Thinking about ways to fix her problem she slammed her fist in her other hand. “I’ll need my laptop and that bottle for sure” Amanda giggled. If Ed is going to have a good night, so was she.

----

“Dude? And she just let you go?” Justin looked at Ed in disbelieve. “Sounds fake but okay” he muttered as he sipped his drink.

“Well I think it’s nice” Dillion said. “You two are so good for each other, she has totally got your back.”

Dia snorted, “That or she’s fucking someone else.”

“What the fuck?” Ed slurred a little. “She wouldn’t do that to me. If she wanted me to stay in, she would have told me. Besides, she loves my dick. Why would she look for another” Ed said smugly.

Dia eyed Ed up and down while sassing her head. “Who said she’s looking for some dick?”

“She is pan” Justin chimed in unhelpfully.

“Let Ed be. Y’all should learn to trust your partners. That’s why y’all can’t stay in a relationship while our boy Ed here is in a 3 year relationship with a lovely girl.” Dillion praised with red cheeks.

“I don’t know about that. You have seemed to be avoiding her lately” Justin muttered, glancing at Ed before looking away just as quick.

“No I’m not!” Ed said a little louder than he had meant to. He was more drunk than he thought.

“Ed, you two have been here for nearly 2 weeks on a ‘couples holiday’ and all you’ve done is work. Amanda hasn’t even been coming with you cause me and her don’t mix well” Justin pointed out. “If I gave up seeing my family and friends for the holidays to go on take a trip with my boyfriend to a luxury condo resort only to be left almost daily cause said boyfriend is working, I’d be a little irritated myself.”

Ed sat with a large pout while he picked at the label on his beer. “I always ask before I leave and she has asked for me to stay a few times and we’ve gone out and skied and went ‘round her old hometown. Even went to that coffee shop she remembered as a little girl.”

Even Dillion started to look doubtful. “I don’t know Ed. I don’t think Amanda should have to ask you to stay when you’re on a couples holiday.”

“I know my girl,” Ed stated again louder than he meant to, setting his beer bottle down a little too hard on the table. “If she had a problem with me going out, she would have said so. She isn’t seeing anybody else and she isn’t sleeping with anyone either.”

Dia raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Sure Teddy, but I know females and that girl is totally feeling ignored and pushed aside.” Dia stood and winked at the whole table, “I’m going to dance, see you boys later.”

The 3 men sat in silence for a moment before Justin spoke up. “Okay, I can see what Amanda was saying about not being sure about her.”

“You talked?” Ed looked shocked at his friend.

“Hmm?” Justin looked to Ed after watching the girl he was currently talking to start 2 guys eyeing her like meet. “Uh yeah. We don’t click well but we’re civil enough, jesus Ed. It was on the 3rd day you two showed up and I came to pick you up to record. You were still in the shower and I waited and we talked a bit.

“Amanda seemed a little more off than usual with me so I asked. She confessed that Dia made her uncomfortable and didn’t think she was a good match, before back-peddling and saying she didn’t mean to intrude on my private life and apologized. And... “ Justin stopped and looked a little embarrassed. His red cheeks from drinking didn’t help hide his guilty look.

“What?” Ed asked irritated for some reason.

“And she said she was sorry for not being able to get along with me. That she knew we were really good friends and didn’t want to ruin that but she wasn’t going to change herself to please you. Then she hoped she was wrong about her feelings for Dia and wished me luck.” Justin looked away, too embarrassed to look Ed in the eye. “I gotta say man, I got a little jealous of you right at that moment.”

“See Ed, there’s nothing to worry about. Just relax and enjoy yourself.” Dillion said with a pat on Ed’s back.

Ed squinted at Justin, taking in his words. He had a sudden swell of unbelievable pride in his girl but the ear worm had gotten to his brain already and now he couldn’t stop thinking about Amanda being in bed with another man. Or woman. Oh god, or both. Ed stood up abruptly, almost knocking his chair over. “I have to go!”

“Wait, Ed maybe you should sober up a bit first” Dillion looked worried.

“I’m fine” Ed grumped and marched out of the bar. They weren’t that far from the condo complex and the cold air would sober him up just fine.

After walking the 10 minutes back to their room, Ed’s head had cleared and realized how stupid he was being. Ed smiled to himself as he unlocked the door and shook his head at how silly he was and what a great girl he had.

Until he heard a long, wonton moan.

Ed froze and could literally feel his heart break. His shoulders slumped and let his coat and keys fall to the floor. He dragged his feet but couldn’t stop his movements towards the bedroom where he was hearing more moans and obvious sounds of sex.

He raised his hand to open the door when he stopped again. There was another moan but listening again, he realized it wasn’t Amanda’s moan. And then another voice groaned and then… someone speaking Japanese?

Then to top it all off, he heard Amanda snort and laugh out loud.

Now he was mad and confused so he peeked inside to find Amanda sitting on the bed, cross legged and in one of his nightshirts and a pair of boy short panties. She was sipping wine from a plastic bright green wine glass and was watching something on her laptop.

Again Amanda being Amanda, she was positioned oddly so her back was actually towards the door and Ed could see what was playing on the laptop.

“Oh my god! Are you watching tentacle pron?” Ed shouted as he stepped inside fully.

Amanda screamed and jumped, spilling her wine all over herself and the bed. Ignoring that, she slammed the laptop screen down so fast, Ed barely saw her hand move. “What are you doing here back so soon!?” Amanda shrieked.

“I, well, uh. That doesn’t matter right now, were you watching tentacle porn?” Ed asked again trying not to laugh.

“You were supposed to be gone the whole night! And you left me horny! And you weren’t supposed to be home so soon!” Amanda rambled, blushing so much her neck was turning red too.

“I didn’t know you were into that” Ed said smirking.

“Shut up, ginger boy!” Amanda shouted as she stood up off the bed but now standing she didn’t know what to do with herself. “I just. The thing is. You see it started. I mean, I discovered it when I was in high school. I mean, why am I explaining myself? Why were you skulking about trying to scare me?”

It was Ed’s turn to look embarrassed. “If I explain my embarrassing story of the night, will you tell me about your kink I never knew about?”

Amanda crossed her arms and looked away with puffed cheeks. “I’ll think about it after you explain yourself.”

“Okay well, I was a little drunk when it was brought up how I was ‘allowed’ to go out without you and then the guys were saying how great that was that you were cool with it but then Dia had to say something about you maybe looking to find some dick somewhere else and then Justin pointed out I’ve been working almost this whole holiday and I’ve been a rubbish boyfriend. So in my drunken stupor I thought I’d come back to find you and dick you down so good, you’d never even think of another man but then I came through the door and heard moans and sex and panicked and felt my heart break and followed the sound and then found you looking so beauiful in my shirt and those panties on that lushous ass of your’s and you watchin porn after I left you alone, I just… My brain stopped working.”

Amanda stared at him with a raised eyebrow and a doubtful look on her face as she listened to him ramble. Though once she heard that Dia had started spewing her poison, she wasn’t surprised to learn that a seed of doubt was planted. “Wait you’re telling me that brain of yours works sometimes?”

“It’s up for debate to be honest, love” Ed smiled sheepishly.

“And you were gonna ‘dick me down so good’ huh?” Amanda said as she still kept her arms crossed but now jetting her hip out as well, sass surfacing in defense of the embarrassment of being caught.

“Okay so maybe my brain isn’t working at all tonight” Ed said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Not the most romantic thing I’ve said.”

“Ironic sense you know, Ed Sheeran and all” Amanda smirked and nudged her chin in his direction.

“Are you seriously gonna keep sassing me when I caught you watching tentacle anime porn?” Ed said exasperated.

“Are you seriously gonna keep bringing up the hentai?” Amanda sighed.

“Oh it has an actual name? Please tell, love, why haven’t I learned about this private enjoyment before?” Ed said, slipping into to his low baritone and stepped up to cupped Amanda’s warm cheek.

“Cause I haven’t needed to watch porn in a while and plus it’s just sort of a once in a blue moon type thing” Amanda confessed, blushing straight to the tips of her hair. “Plus it wasn’t tentacles…”

“Oh? Please correct me than?” Ed smirked, loving the way her whole body was warm.

“It was monster girls and aliens” Amanda whispered. “I like the succubuses” Amanda muttered as she placed her face against his chest.

“That. Is. So. Cute” Ed laughed as he hugged Amanda. He lowered his head so he whispered in her ear, “Would you like to watch it together?”

“Well…” Amanda snuggled her face more into Ed’s chest. “I spilled my wine of the bed.”

“Wanna do it on the couch?” Ed asked simply.

“Edward!” Amanda pulled back and slapped her hand against his chest. “You’re so lewd.”

“That wasn’t a no” Ed wiggled his eyebrows.

“You’re right, it wasn’t” Amanda giggled back.

#ed sheeran #code ginger #ed sheeran fan fic #Couple’s Holiday Getting Dicked Good and Monster Girls #asteroid panda's bad writing

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slashersteve · 6 years

Text

Forgotten Love Letter 💌

pairing: Peter Parker/Gender Neutral Reader

summary: Peter discovers a letter you had intended to give him in freshman year of high school before you started dating.

warnings: mentions of blood

note: I got inspired by letter writing in numerous fics I’ve been running into and tatbilb ofc 💕 enjoy :)) first imagine ive written in over 2 decades, it’s been sitting in my drafts for that long too- now she’s out here in the world thank u thank u

•••

The school week was officially over, and you could finally relax over the weekend. It had been an exhausting week with numerous amount of homework (it’ll be this way in college get used to it now teachers said or claimed) You still had homework, but it wouldn’t be due until the end of the next week, so Saturday was officially for you.

Your boyfriend of a year had promised you two would hang out at your place and watch a movie, but after his nightly activities. You knew Peter was Spider-man, an internet sensation everyone was crazy about including yourself. The only way you found out is because Peter has never been great at keeping secrets. He saw you on the street one time, and just waved, “Hey (y/n)!” He yelled, completely forgetting he was Spider-Man and not another high school student who can nonchalantly say hi to their significant other. You were hella confused and had awkwardly waved back, recognizing his voice but not quite sure if you heard it right.

It took you all night before you had put two and two together. From those late nights he wouldn’t answer your texts or would answer your text, weird bruises and aches he sometimes had, and his ability to climb through your window despite the fire escape being farther away from your 7th floor bedroom. And his voice. You quickly got to work and went to school the next day wearing custom made Spider-Man gear to see if he catches on that you know and he looked completely touched by the fact you were wearing it.

“Did you- figure it out when I said hi to you?” Peter asked one day underneath the bleachers during lunch before Ned came to join you two. You had smirked and said, “I thought the point of the mask was for people to not know who you are, especially the ones you know.” He blushed of embarrassment and you kissed him on the cheek and said, “Secrets safe with me...” with a wink.

It was after that when Peter would come to you after nearly every night patrol he did, he’d come into your room in the full suit to tell you about his day, what he had done, what kind of crime he fought and other times he’d come when he’s injured. Those were the nights that worried you the most and made you lecture him on being much, much more careful. You didn’t care if he’d heal fast- he’s not invincible.

You hadn’t expected him in early today though, knowing he was spending the entire day with his Aunt May before going on “patrol”. So you spent most your Saturday laying sround, sleeping on and off and texting Peter. Your mom was out all day working and you didn’t expect your dad home till the next morning because he’d just left for the graveyard shift. You were bored out of your mind after every favorite movie was watched and decided to clean up the mess in your room you ignored the past week.

An hour of picking up and vacuuming later, you then decided to organize your closet. That’s when you found it- a medium sized white wooden jewelry box with flower and swan designs on it your mother had gifted to you when you were eight. After putting all your clothes back and some in a box, you sat down on your bed, legs crossed as you wound up the music and then opened the box, the melody of Swan Lake playing the moment you lifted the lid. You smiled at the swan figurine that slowly spun along to the music. A feeling of nostalgia bursted through you as you were reminded of being a child, humming the tune wherever you went and drawing swans randomly. Your eyes shifted to look at the contents inside, letting the music continue to play.

There was anything but jewelry in there, In there was instead a few notes you and your best friend from middle school used to give each other, filled with silly stuff and inside jokes. There was even old letters from a pen pal you had in 5th grade! Her name was Elizabeth and she was from the UK. About a half hour had passed with you reading through them when you eyes caught the light pink, folded paper that was at the very bottom. You picked it up, setting the others aside.

You flipped it around, not remembering what the letter was, what it contained or who it was for right until you saw the name “Peter Parker” with a heart around it. Instantly your eyes widened, the happy nostalgic memories being replaced with the cringey memory of that one afternoon on the bus ride home writing out your feelings for your new friend from Science class. You felt your cheeks heat up at the memory, and slowly small tidbits of what you wrote were coming back to you.

Just as you moved to open it, there was a sudden loud knock on your window. You jumped in your spot, the letter falling from your hand and you turned to see the man himself in his Spider-Man suit, waving at you and pointing at the window asking you to let him in. Instantly you relaxed and quickly shoved the letters back into the box and shut it, the room becoming silent.

Hopping to your feet, you went to unlock the window, saying, “You’re here early did May-“ but your words got caught in your throat when you saw he was cut up and bleeding. He pulled his mask off, his brown locks of short hair sticking up in nearly every direction.

“Peter what the hell!” You cried, gently touching around a bruise on his left cheek and then looking down at his cut up suit to see the damage. It was pretty bad, but he just gave a pained toothy smile that you glared at, already knowing what he was going to say.

“It’ll heal- I dunno about the suit- but ill heal I just need to get kisses from you and lay down for a while and I’ll be better in no time,” he said, pecking your lips then walking passed you. You were baffled as he had one hand over his side and used the other to grab a towel to put over your bed before sitting down on it. You’d honestly never seen him this hurt- you’ve seen bruises, mega painful looking bruises, and few cuts but this was just bad. His suit was cut up. What kind of people did he run into for them to do that? He noticed you staring and sighed, “I know what you’re thinking (y/n), but really I’m okay! You should’ve seen the other guys.” He joked but you crossed your arms not amused.

“Other guys? Looking at how you ended up- I can only assume you killed them,” you said in a serious tone, but he laughed like it was a joke. When he saw you weren’t laughing he let his head fall downwards for a moment.

“Can you not lecture me right now- this really hurts,” he motioned over his wounds and you sighed once more, hands falling to the side as he gave you those puppy dog eyes now. You didn’t say anything as you wandered over to your door and went to retrieve some things to clean his wounds. He may heal pretty fast, but you’ll be damned if he’s going to lay there all bloodied up and in pain. Peter watched you go and pushed himself more onto the bed, before swinging his feet up and knocking over the music box on your bed. He raised a brow, and grabbed it, realizing it was a music box when he saw the wound up in the back. He opened it after twisting it, smiling at the soft tune that began to play out like you had done. He curiously looked at its contents and he would’ve left it alone because it was clearly private if they were in a box, but his eyes caught sight of a “-rker” and when he moved the other papers he saw it was his name. Curiosity got the best of him as he pulled out the pink, folded sheet of paper and laughed softly when he saw it was his name written in your handwriting in the center of a near perfect looking heart.

He glanced at the door to see if you were coming back, and saw you still werent back so he gently opened it, seeing a full page of writing and a date at the top, Peter recognizing the year as freshman year, the year you transferred to Midtown High and the first year you met. He felt his heart warm up as he realized what this was.

It was a love letter.

Dear Peter Parker,

I know we’ve only just met, but every time I’m around you I feel butterflies in my stomach and my heart races 100 beats per minute. You’re very sweet, funny, and really smart and I couldn’t help but feel these feelings for you even if we’ve only known each other for a month or two. Everyday spent with you has been the best days of my life! I came to this school with no friends and dreaded having to have to do a partner project in biology. You were kind enough to sit by me and ask me to work with you. After that, I couldn’t stop myself from falling in love with you. I feel silly for writing a letter, but I’m not really good with words and I am not sure you feel the same. I’m currently writing on the bus ride home, hoping to god the person behind me isn’t looking over the seat. I would be so embarrassed! But- I really hope you do feel the same way, I’ll be crushed if you didn’t. Please don’t think I’m a fool for writing this letter

With love,

(y/n)

By the time Peter got to the end, the smile on his lips were so wide. He found this completely touching and adorable because it was dated about 3 months before you two even began to date towards the middle of freshman year. The fact that you already liked him so much before then also made him a bit giddy.

You had just gotten out from your parents bathroom, having been in there a while trying to find the first aid kit. When you walking back down the hall towards your bedroom you stopped when you heard Swan Lake.

“Oh...oh no-“ your heart dropped as you remember what was in that box and you ran into your room, eyes widen when you saw Peter holding the letter in his hands, “What are you doing?!” The music ended on queue and Peter snapped his head in your direction, seeing your horrified expression. You set the first aid kit onto the dresser near the door and reached to take the note away from him but he dodged your hand, “Give it! Please don’t read it! It’s from a year ago please Peter!” You begged, “I don’t even know what’s in it, it’s probably horrible!” Peter hadn’t said anything, just smiling playfully and keeping the note away from you as you leaned over him, still being aware of his injuries. Although he’d forgotten about his own injuries being distracted by your letter. He fell backwards and groaned in pain swinging his legs over the side of your bed. Your eyes widened.

“I already read it by the way,” Peter said, looking up at where you sat next to him, one leg crossed over the other, “I can’t believe you didn’t give it to me! We could’ve been dating way sooner!” You tilted your head, cheeks heating up as you snatched the letter from him and scanned over it quickly.

“Dear god no- this would’ve slowed things down! This is so- so bad,” you claimed and looked back at him with a major cringe on your face. Peter shook his head disagreeing with you, “I barely knew you- are you telling me you wouldn’t of been freaked out by this? It’s kind of stalkerish.”

“Nope!”

You shook your head in disbelief, and looked back down at the paper, embarrassed by the horrible confession of love whereas Peter was grinning like a child next to you.

“It’s cute that you’ve always had a crush on me,” he teased you, you became flushed and began to fold the sides of the paper nervously, “hey, hey why are you so embarrassed? I liked you too you know.” He admitted, pushing himself up now clenching his side lightly. You set the letter down and got the first aid kit.

“I don’t know why I’m so embarrassed,” you admitted as you took the same spot next to him, “We’re literally dating. And I feel like I can’t even look at you.”

“Well- you got what you wanted,” Peter said as he tapped on the spider logo on his, his suit loosing up and falling off his shoulders to reveal the bloody wounds. Normally when he had his shirt off you wouldn’t able to concentrate, no one should let the nerd demeanor throw them off, he was pretty built and it was nice. The wounds were your main focus, along with that embarrassing letter though, there was no time to ogle.

“Oh yeah?” You asked, a smirk on your lips as you got out the supplies, “And what was it I wanted?”

“For me to return your feelings, thus us beginning to date, you got it all!” he explained, wincing when you began to clean around his wounds, “Why did you never give me the letter? It was really sweet...” he said in a strain voice, you pursed your lips together and looked at him.

“I don’t know, I remember coming home that day and just setting it into the music box and never letting it see the light of day again.”

“There must’ve been a- ow,” he closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip and you seized cleaning one of the bigger wounds, looking at him with a sorry look, “a reason!” You licked your lip as you began to think back to that day, and it suddenly hit you. You laughed sadly.

“The next day, I ran into this girl and she was crying. And I asked her what was wrong and she said that she sent a long text to her crush about how much she liked him and he completely ignored her, and that he wouldn’t talk to her,” you explained, Peter frowned, “So as you can tell...that really discouraged me.”

“What a damn jerk,” Peter said raising a brow, “I wouldn’t of done that to you, I mean- look at us now-“

“Me cleaning up your wounds after a year of dating?” You chirped and he smiled fondly.

“Well- we could be doing more!” He teased and wiggled his eyebrows and you rolled your eyes, “Woah! I meant watching a movie together and cuddling! What were you thinking?”

“There will be no cuddling because you’re hurt,” you gestured to his wounds and he scoffed and put out his bottom lip. You continued to clean up in wounds in silence, suppressing that smile on your lips.

When he was all clean and bandaged up, you dug into your extra clothes and handed him a pair of sweatpants and then gave him one of your large sweatshirts you wore in the colder weather. You helped him get it on, pulling the sweatshirt gently over his back and stomach. He wasn’t hiding the fact that it hurt, and you pat the spot next to you.

“Thought we were going to watch a movie,” he said, crawling next to you onto your bed and settling down facing you, propping his head up with his right arm. You shook your head.

“M’ kind of tired,” you mumbled, fluffing your pillow. Peter blinked, and noticed that he was pretty tired too, Aunt May knew he was going over to your place, so sleeping over wouldn’t be the worst thing. He leaned over, catching your lips into a kiss and with a cheeky grin he said, “Thank you for taking care of me (y/n), I don’t know what I’d do without you. Everyday spent with you has been the best days of my life and I can’t wait for more!” Your eyes widen and you flicked him in the shoulder as he laughed loudly, falling into his back. You nuzzled your head into his arm, not wanting to lay on him due to his injuries.

“Everything in that letter was true by the way, Peter.” You said, closing your eyes. Peters eyes were already closed, but there was a smile on lips before both of you fell asleep.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker #spider man #peter parker x reader #peter parker x gender neutral reader #spider-man x reader #spider man imagine #my imagines #mcu imagines #leslie writes imagines again #marvel imagines #enjoyyyyyyyy

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tenroseforeverandever · 6 years

Text

Dear Father Christmas… Chapter 23: December 24, 2038

MASTERPOST

Characters: Tentoo; Rose Tyler; Jackie Tyler; Pete Tyler; Tony Tyler; OC Hope Tyler-Noble; OC Charlotte Tyler-Noble; OC Wilfred Tyler-Noble; OC Therin Thomson; Javic Thane; Gray Thane; OC Tianza; the TARDIS; OC Abby Tyler-Milne;

Rated: Teen

Tags: Family!Fic; Kid!Fic; Pete’s World; Letters to Santa; Christmas Fic; Family; Fluff; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Romance; Love; gun violence; violence resulting in death; life-threatening injury; life threatening situations; life threatening illness; original characters

Summary: When Rose Tyler was little, she always wrote a Christmas wish list to Father Christmas. As she grew older, the wish list became more of a letter to someone she could confide in once a year, but she fell out of the habit somewhere along the way. Now, as a new mum, celebrating her daughter’s first Christmas, Rose takes up writing her Christmas letter to Father Christmas once again.

Rose’s Christmas letters are excerpts from her life with her beloved Tentoo and their children in Pete’s World, written once a year, for each of 31 years.

Chapter Summary: Jackie decides to make Ugly Christmas Jumpers for everyone in the family.

Notes: Wow! Another chapter that got away from me! LOL And boy, did this one put up a fight.

To my betas, @rose–nebula and mrsbertucci: once again, this chapter would not be what it is without you. You gave me inspiration (which I still feel guilty about!) and we had many, many discussions about lots of things to get me through this, including a particularly hilarious discussion about aliens (I’m dying laughing just thinking about it now… I don’t know why I find it so funny, I just do!) Just thank-you, both, for always being there when I need you, and putting up with my whinging. I love you both!

Thanks to @doctorroseprompts for their 31 Days of Ficmas prompts. The prompt I used today was Santa and/or Elves.

I know it’s the middle of April, but since the weather outside (here in Ontario) is still frightful, I don’t feel too guilty about posting part of my Christmas story. I have eight more chapters to go for the full 31 Days of Ficmas. I’m not sure if I will post any more through the year, or just write them and post them at Christmastime in December. I’ll see how it goes… ;D

Also read at: AO3; FF.net; Teaspoon

December 24th, 2038

Dear Father Christmas,

My mum never does anything by halves. When Jackie Tyler sets her mind on something, she doesn’t hold back. She gets stuck right in; she takes the bull by the horns and beats it into submission. God help anyone or anything standing in her way. Just ask the Doctor…

(On second thought, best not. He might not take it too well, especially not after… well, you’ll see.)

Anyroad, ever since we welcomed my little niece, Abby, into our lives last autumn, Mum’s been on a knitting rampage. She taught herself. She started out with little things like baby mitts and booties, but quickly progressed to sweet little cardigans and jumpers. And she’s gotten really good! My very favourite one was an adorable navy-blue jumper with the words “I LOVE MY DADDIES!” emblazoned across the front in big, pink letters. Tony and Noah (the proud Daddies in question) loved it too, and dressed little Abby in it all the time, until summer came along, and they were forced to admit it was too hot for her to wear it anymore!

This year, sometime around August, Mum’s knitting took a rather… erm… dangerous turn. Stand aside, Molly Weasley: Jackie Tyler announced she was intending to knit jumpers for all of the Tyler clan, and their significant others, this Christmas.

And not just any jumpers: Ugly Christmas Jumpers.

She only told me and Dad, not wanting to spoil the “surprise” for everyone else. Honestly, we just had to grit our teeth and tell her what a “great idea” it was. It wasn’t like it would’ve made any difference if we’d told her how we really felt. Besides, this way we were likely avoiding the pain of a good hard smack, and months of her patented Jackie Tyler silent-not-silent treatment.

Anyway, it wasn’t like she’d told us about it because she was actually seeking our approval. No, we were to be models, though I rather think guinea-pigs would be a more apt description. Honestly, as Christmas approached, I was seriously beginning to think it would have been better to shut the entire Ugly Jumper Project down in its early stages and endure whatever punishment Mum might have dished out, but at that point, we were in too deep to turn back.

The worst part of the whole process was Mum constantly calling me throughout the autumn to come over to the mansion to try something on, or to bring over jumpers the kids had left behind when they came to visit, so she could compare the sizing with what she was knitting. To be honest it got to be a bit tedious very quickly, but I could hardly say no to her when she was throwing her heart into it. Besides, this way I was able to keep an eye out and nix any design I thought wouldn’t go down very well with the intended recipient.

But, the jumpers were, for the most part, not too bad. They were beautifully designed and made. I was honestly quite impressed. Most of them either featured a cute character like a snowman or penguin or something like that, or they were the traditional Fair Isle design, with rows of little repeating Christmas characters and symbols in garish colours. Regardless of the pattern, all of them had some sort of saying on them, like Joy to the World, ‘Tis the Season, or Let It Snow.

“Soooo, which one is mine,” I asked.

“Never you mind, little madam. For your information, I ‘aven’ started it yet. And even if I ‘ad… as if I would spoil the surprise.”

I suddenly had a horrible thought. Cold dread washed over me. “Erm… what about the Doctor’s…?” Ever since he had revamped her dishwasher to sing Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer seven or eight Christmases ago, Mum had been out for revenge. Not that she would admit it. From the look she gave me, you’d think butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but I knew better.

“Oh, I’m tryin’ to come up with jus’ the right pattern for ‘im. I’ve a couple in mind.”

“Muuuuum, don’t do anything rash, yeah?”

“Oh, honestly Rose, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud. I’m jus’ tryin’ to create a little Christmas cheer.”

“Oi! I’m the one stuck in the middle of you and the Doctor and your flippin’ Christmas cheer. Me and Dad!”

She ignored me, of course, and did a complete about-face on the topic. “Oh, speakin’ of your Dad… I got his jumper finished. What d’ya think?” She held up a dark green jumper, with a comical Santa body on it. The pattern stopped at the collar, so Dad’s head would be taking the place of Santa’s head (your head, Santa!) The words Ho Ho Ho were knitted in bold yellow letters below Santa’s feet. “I’ll get ‘im to wear a Father Christmas ‘at and all!”

I had to laugh. “Good luck with that!”

“’E’ll do it if ‘e knows w’at’s good for ‘im!”

“That’ll make for more of your Christmas cheer, then…”

“Oh, don’t ya worry; I’ll make it worth ‘is while.” She winked at me. “There’ll be plenty of Christmas cheer and bells a jinglin’ around ‘ere.”

“Mum! TMI!”

“Since when ‘ave you been such a prude? I mean, jus’ look at the way you and ‘imself carry on.”

“Yeah, but there are certain things I really, really do not need to know. And that, right there: that tops the list! Look, I gotta run. Dad’s asked me to give a presentation this afternoon.”

“Oh, well, I suppose… Oh, Rose, wait a mo’. I meant to ask: Charlie, is she seein’ someone regular these days? Will she be bringin’ a date for Christmas Eve? I’ll need to make ‘im or ‘er a jumper too, yeah, whoever they are.”

“I dunno, Mum. I never know with that one these days. I worry… a lot.”

“She’ll be all right, sweetheart. It’s jus’ a phase. ‘Sides, she’s nearly twenty years old. I don’t need to remind ya w’at you were up to at ‘er age… gallivantin’ around with that bleedin’ alien. Not that you cared a fig about my worries!”

“Mum…”

“She’s jus’ like you in so many ways, so bloody-minded.”

“That isn’t helping, Mum! I jus’ hope you’re right… about it being a phase. Anyway, I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything definite about her bringing a date.”

“An’ in the meantime, I’ll knit an extra generic sort of jumper, jus’ in case.” Mum must have noticed I was about to protest, because she cut me off before I’d even had a chance to open my mouth. “Nah, don’t worry; Lor’ knows, it’s no trouble. After all, Therin might still decide to bring someone, too, and I’ll need one for ‘er. Best to be prepared.”

“All right. Suit yourself. See ya soon. Love ya.” I kissed her on the cheek and headed out the door, the problem of Charlie weighing heavily on my mind.

--ooOoo--

That night as I was standing at the stove making supper, the Doctor came up and wrapped his arms around me from behind. He gave me a lovely kiss behind the ear. It was just what I’d needed. I’d been wound up all day.

“Penny for ‘em? You’ve been doing (might I say) a piss poor job of shielding your emotions.”

“That obvious, was it?”

“Yup.” He squeezed me tighter and gave me another tender little kiss. Even without our telepathic bond, I expect he would have figured out something was wrong. And I really had been sloppy about keeping my worry contained. To be honest, I’d been hoping he’d notice. “You could have just told me if something was bothering you.”

I leaned my head back against his shoulder, giving the sauce another stir. “I know. You’ve just been so stressed lately.”

The Doctor had been called in to help with seventeen frightened and violent Trumhurgi whose ship had crashed in Torquay. They were badly injured, and the Doctor was the only one who had any decent knowledge about their unusual physiology. It had been two months of providing medical care for them, sometimes round-the-clock for several days running. He’d been training Torchwood physicians and nurses as well, but it all took time. In addition, he’d been consulting about repairs on the Trumhurgi ship, and travelling back and forth in the TARDIS, obtaining spare parts and contacting worried family members, carrying their messages and even bringing them back to Earth to visit their recuperating relatives.

I’d been working on the case too, but I was helping out the traumatized humans who’d been caught up in the original crash and the violent, defensive outburst that had followed. Shots had been fired and, by some stroke of luck, there had been no deaths, but it had been a close call. Fortunately, I had a huge, experienced team at my command, so my end of the job had been a lot easier than the Doctor’s.

“I’m all right, love,” the Doctor assured me, as we dished up our supper and sat down at the table. It was the first time in weeks we’d actually been able to eat together. “Besides, by end of this week the last of the Trumhurgi go home in their very own, working-better-than-ever ship! Let’s have tonight be about us.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Now spill. What’s got you so upset?”

“It’s Charlie. I’m worried. I didn’t tell you about it because… well, the Trumhurgi… but Javic dropped by shortly after all that happened… with news.” The Doctor’s eyes darkened, and his lips tightened reflexively, but he waited for me to continue. “It seems Charlie has been taking a page out of Javic’s book, recently. She’s been, erm… let’s just say ‘embracing her sexuality’… a lot!”

“And he knows this how?”

“Well he ran into her at one of his favourite… spots.”

I sensed the Doctor’s anger flare, white hot. “He didn’t touch−”

“God, no! In fact, he’s sort of taken her under his wing, so to speak. Made sure she’s stayed away from all the dangerous places.”

The Doctor growled. He looked like he was fighting really hard to keep his emotions in check. His eyes flashed at me. It had been a long time since I’d been a target for the Oncoming Storm. It was properly frightening (and more than a bit thrilling!) “And you… you never thought to tell me? This? About our daughter?”

“You were so busy. And it’s not like−”

He launched himself out of his chair with a roar. “You kept this from me?”

Reflexively, I shrank back into my seat, like some timid little creature. “I’m sorry.”

He began to pace, tugging at his hair. Each time he passed me, he opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out. His mental shields were locked in place and impenetrable.

After five long minutes, I decided enough was enough. It wasn’t my habit to let him intimidate me and I wasn’t about to chicken out now; history told me, it was far better to confront him, not let him get away with his bullying behaviour. “Doctor, stop! Enough. Sit down so we can talk.”

“Oh, so now you want to talk to me!”

“That’s was the point of having this conversation, yeah? Sit!”

He did as I asked, shoving his plate away from him, across the table. I grabbed onto his hand before he could move it, pouring my love through our bond. I was gratified when his shields began to give; it was only a little, but it was a beginning.

“Any other information you want to impart?” he bit out.

“Well… apparently she has one of Wilfred’s Vortex Manipulators, so… erm… she’s dancing through time and space.”

“Bloody hell!” He moved to stand again, but I held firm to his hand. He glared daggers at me. “Let go! We have to−”

“Have to what, Doctor? What do you propose we do? You’re not going to go storming in there like the Great Exterminator!”

“Try me!”

“This is Charlie… intimidation has never worked on that kid, and it’s not about to this time, either. We need to be rational and calm and supportive.”

“Supportive! But she’s−”

“I know. And Javic has been keeping an eye on her. He’s making sure she checks in with him, and he assures me she’s doing… fine.”

“Somehow, I don’t imagine Javic’s definition of ‘fine’ is quite the same as ours.”

I had to admit (but only to myself) I’d been thinking much the same way, though I knew Javic: he’d go to the ends of creation to protect any of us. “Hope’s been keeping in touch with her too,” I offered, hoping to appease the Doctor.

“Well that, that is a bloody recipe for disaster!” His anger flared.

Again, I had to agree with him, Santa. For all that she means well, Hope tends to get a bit bossy with her younger siblings. She’s mellowed over the years, but still… My arguments were crumbling around me. “You’re right. Let’s go!”

“What?”

“Let’s go… TARDIS. You. Me. Chat with our daughter.”

“But I thought you said...?”

“Changed my mind.”

--ooOoo--

Charlie, it turns out, was not thrilled to see us. I hadn’t been expecting a joyous family reunion or anything, but I think it would have gone a lot better if the Doctor hadn’t barged up to the bar where she was cheerfully chatting up some green-skinned bloke, waving his psychic paper around like some crazed maniac and bellowing to said bloke that Charlie was under-aged (an outright lie… on that planet) and if he didn’t want to find himself in a whole heap of trouble he’d better scram. He’d then grabbed Charlie by the arm and hauled her out of the building and into the TARDIS.

To say Charlie was furious was the understatement of the year! She was ranting on about how it was bad enough her “puritanical” sister was on her case, but the fact that we were now interfering in her life as well incensed her to no end. She only finally calmed after I ordered the Doctor out of the TARDIS. I would deal with him later.

In the end, there was very little I could actually do other than let Charlie know we’d both be there for her if she ever needed us. She assured me she was fine: having fun; being careful; and not doing anything too wild (and “bloody hell, Mum, I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation with you… it’s just wrong…”.) I tried to understand, but I just couldn’t put myself in that mindset, and I told her as much.

“It’s just such a relief to be able to have fun and feel good without any obligations. I have so many obligations, Mum. School, Hand in Hand, work... This makes me feel, well free.”

Oh, Santa, it was then I realized how much that little girl (young woman) had taken on in her young life.

She must have seen the look of horror on my face. She grabbed my hand, and our familial bond snapped into place. She read me like an open book. “Mum, don’t you dare feel guilty. You never, ever pressured me, any of us, to do anything we didn’t want. You encouraged us in the best way possible, you… and Dad.” She chuckled and rolled her eyes at the mention of her father. “This is just my way of letting go a bit, taking time for me. Can you understand that?”

“Course I can, love. I worry, that’s all. Promise me you’ll keep in touch, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“And listen to Javic.”

“Muuuuum! I know!”

“Now, since we spoiled your evening with that young man, how about we take you out to supper, yeah?”

“That sounds great! And don’t worry too much about my evening. He was a bit of a tosser, anyway. I was just about to walk out when Dad came barging in like some daft Onidsessi on pep pills. Urrrgh,” she groaned, “promise you’ll never let Dad near pep pills. Can you imagine…?”

“Oh, god, your Dad… he’s out there… Not on pep pills, but you know as well as me, he’s quite capable of stirring up all kinds of trouble without them if he gets a bit bored.”

Thankfully the Doctor hadn’t been stirring up trouble. We found him, pacing back and forth in front of the TARDIS doors. Charlie skipped right over to him, stopping him in his tracks and planting a kiss on his cheek. I couldn’t help but smile. We might all drive one another completely mental sometimes, but there was no lack of love in our little family, and this incident had assured me our children always knew we would be a safe haven for them whenever they needed it.

With all our emotions running high, I never remembered to ask Charlie if she was bringing home a friend at Christmas, so Mum could plan an appropriate jumper. At this point, though, I didn’t imagine there would be anyone special, given that she seemed to be determined to stay away from serious relationships for the time being.

I couldn’t have been more wrong…

Santa, I need to run. We’re all at Mum’s tonight, and the jumpers have finally been unveiled. There were a few… complications. And I’m running interference! I’ll try to explain later.

Blimey! There goes the Doctor, now, and he looks far too happy for anyone’s good, especially considering… Look, Santa, I gotta go! I’ll finish this letter up later.

--ooOoo--

Santa, I’m back, but I’m not sure where the hell I’m going to begin. A lot of stuff went down tonight. A lot of stuff.

Mum was just itching to hand out her Ugly Jumper parcels to everyone; I couldn’t get her to sit still, she was so excited. We were still waiting for Charlie to arrive and for Tony, Noah, and Abby, too. The Doctor had gone to collect Charlie in the TARDIS. Mum was bouncing off the walls.

Thank goodness my brother and his family decided to show up just after the Doctor left. Entertaining Abby was keeping Mum rather brilliantly distracted, and it meant I didn’t need to entertain Mum. As it turned out, it was just as well Mum was preoccupied, because it gave her time to ease into meeting Charlie’s plus-one which turned out to be a bit of a shock for her, just not for the immediately obvious reason…

The lovely, familiar sound of the TARDIS filled the room about fifteen minutes after Tony arrived. She landed in her customary corner of Mum’s living room, wearing her traditional Blue Box disguise, but topped with festive snow and icicles, and a colourful wreath on her door. The door opened, and the Doctor stepped out, meeting my gaze with raised eyebrows and a little prickle of warning through our bond. He was being very guarded, not sharing any specific thoughts or images, and that made me distinctly uneasy.

Charlie followed him and was tugging behind her what could only be her date for the evening. The creature seemed to unfold itself from the TARDIS. It was very tall and rail thin. Charlie was holding onto one of its appendages, a hand of sorts, at the end of one of its four upper limbs, formed from an assortment of tentacle-like structures. “C’mon Hrau-Ard,” Charlie coaxed. “You’re gonna love my family! Hell, you and Dad are already like best mates!”

“Possibly a bit of an exaggeration seeing as we only met six minutes ago,” the Doctor countered, allowing Charlie and Hrau-Ard to step in front of him, “but he seems like a fine chap, I have to say.”

It took me a moment to get over my shock. Now, let me be clear, Santa, I have no trouble with interspecies relationships… I mean look at my darling husband, not exactly human for all he looks it. It’s just that Charlie, for all her sexual experimentation has never strayed far from standard humanoid partners before... at least according to Javic’s accounts. That’s why I needed to collect my thoughts before I moved forward to greet our new guest.

“Hello,” I smiled up into the creature’s majestic face. And majestic it was, by any standards… beautiful. Trust Charlie to pick a gorgeous date! A long muzzle, with an expressive mouth on the end, swooped up into a spectacular curved crest above it’s head. The crest had two main parts, a longer one below and a shorter part above. Its face morphed gradually from a rich teal colour at the muzzle to a deep indigo at the tips of the crests and was edged with many sensory tentacles and filaments. Two large purple eyes bulged above the snout, and several secondary eyes protruded from either side of the crests, set on stalks which were each adorned with several metallic rings. “I’m Rose Tyler, Charlie’s mum.” I held my hands out, spread open before me in the universal sign of peaceful greeting.

The creature bowed its head to me and dropping Charlie’s hand, held all four of it’s tentacle-tipped upper limbs out, mirroring me. Its fluting voice emanated from the crests. “Christmas greetings to you, Rose Tyler. My name is Hrau-Ard. It is lovely to meet you.”

“He’s male… mostly,” Charlie informed me, “so it’s okay to use ‘he’ and ‘him’.”

Hrau-Ard piped in, bowing his head to me again, “Those pronouns seem to be the most accurate.”

Before I could respond to Hrau-Ard, Charlie impatiently snagged the hand she’d been holding earlier and tugged him past me. “Well, come on in and meet the rest of the family!”

He hooted in surprise, his long tan-coloured tunic billowing and brushing me as he passed. It dropped halfway down his two legs and contrasted spectacularly with the blues and greens of his skin and had an opening in the back through which a pair of wing-like appendages extended. They were bright turquoise and filmy (too delicate to be proper wings) and vibrated as he moved.

I admit, I couldn’t suppress a chuckle at Mum’s incredulous expression as she met him. She passed Abby back to Noah, and looked Hrau-Ard up and down, offering him all the appropriate greetings. She had come a long way since her “bog-monster” days on the Estate and was extremely well-versed in alien diplomacy. After all, she’d welcomed plenty into her home over the years. But, despite all her training and experience, she was still my mum, and I nearly choked when she repeated his name back for clarification: “Howard? Your name is Howard?”

With a low whistle of approval and if the TARDIS was translating properly, amusement, Hrau-Ard inclined his head, his facial filaments bobbing with the movement. “I enjoy the way you say my name, Charlie’s Gran.”

“Oh, just call me Jackie, please. Howard! Of all the names!”

“Is this name of significance to you?”

Mum glanced nervously over to Pete, who was busy grilling Wilfred and Tianza about the medicinal properties of a Gallifreyan plant he was interested in using in a new Vitex drink. “Oh, ‘e’s jus’ an old mate of mine.”

“Fine fellow! Liked fruit!” the Doctor enthused from the TARDIS door with a broad, toothy grin. “I borrowed his pyjamas and dressing gown once!”

“Well then,” Hrau-Ard bleeped, “I am honoured to be his namesake.”

“Oh, off the two of you go then.” Mum shooed Charlie and “Howard” off to meet Tony, Noah, and Abby. She fixed a glare at the Doctor, who had stepped up behind me. “See, there, Time Lump! A proper alien, tentacles and all! ‘E at least ‘as the decency to look the part.”

“So sorry to disappoint you with my lack of appendages, Jackie (after all, I live my life just to please you),” he snarked back at her. “Fortunately, as it turns out, there’s one Tyler who is rather fond of my one, rather impressive appendage, just the way it is.”

“All right, you two,” I cut off Mum before she had a chance to bite back, “it’s Christmastime, yeah? Peace on Earth. See, the halls are all decked,” I gestured around me, “merry and bright. Let’s try to enjoy ourselves.”

“Ooooh, I’d like to deck ‘is halls, all right…” Mum grumbled.

The Doctor leaned out around me to shoot another barb at Mum. “Is that your resting Grinch face, Jackie, or are you just happy to see me?”

Mum lunged at him, slapping-hand poised and ready. Fortunately for the Doctor, I was still in between the two of them. “Stop!”

“Cuddly as a cactus; charming as an eel… Mrs. Griii-inch” the Doctor sing-songed.

“STOP!” My shout silenced the room, everyone turning to stare at me.

“Oh, don’t mind them,” Charlie cooed at Hrau-Ard, “that’s sorta their normal behaviour.”

“Look what you two made me do,” I hissed at Mum and the Doctor. “Be civil! Honestly!” Fed up, I made to leave the two of them and go to the kitchen to pour myself a well-earned glass of wine, when Mum caught me by the sleeve.

“Blimey, Rose!” she whispered at me. “That Howard fella ‘as wings!”

“Yeah, well spotted! And tentacles!”

“No, no, no! The wings! ‘E’ll never fit into any of my jumpers! Never! And ‘e’s so bleedin’ skinny and all. (Blimey, ‘e makes the Doctor look like a sumo wrestler, ‘e does!) The jumper I made would be…”

“Mum, you don’t need to worry. He’ll understand, I’m sure.”

She burst into tears. ��But I wanted everyone to ‘ave… and now ‘e’ll be without something from me… An’ it’s Christmas…”

The Doctor stepped up, concerned. He put a gentle hand on Mum’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? If it’s what I said, Jackie… you know I was just taking the mick.”

“No, no, no… nothin’ like that, ya plum.” She patted his cheek and gave him a watery smile. “I’m jus’ disappointed is all.” She excused herself and rushed off in the direction of the powder room.

“What was all that about?”

“Promise you won’t tell her I told you?”

“Oh, you know I can keep a secret, Rose! Besides, I know better than to cross Jackie Tyler by leaking sensitive information. C’mon, give.”

I explained to him about Mum’s dilemma, how she had knitted ugly Christmas jumpers for everyone (his face blanched, probably imagining what she might have created for him) and now because of Hrau-Ard’s unexpected physical attributes, none of the jumpers she had set aside would ever possibly fit.

“Well, I could help,” he suggested. “She’s probably not going to like it much, and I can’t say I’m much of a fan of it myself, but I have an idea that just might work… if she’s willing.”

--ooOoo--

Everyone was so busy with canapes and punch and cocktails they never noticed Mum and the Doctor bundling into the TARDIS and the TARDIS dematerializing. The TARDIS was proud to be showing off her new “Silent Mode”: there was only a little bit of a breeze to indicate she had ever been there. (My little darling.)

They had only been gone for about ten minutes before the TARDIS rematerialized and Mum burst through the doors, beaming and carrying a neatly wrapped parcel: Hrau-Ard’s gift. To my utter amazement, she turned back to stroke the TARDIS’ doorframe, planting a soft kiss on the blue wood. “Thank-you, sweetheart. You’re a wonder, you are.”

The TARDIS hummed in response, a wonderfully joyous sound, as Mum practically skipped over to the Christmas tree to tuck the present underneath.

The Doctor stepped up beside me, closing the TARDIS doors behind him. “They hit it off like a house on fire,” he told me, “the pair of them, thick as thieves. Turns out when your Mum was ill a few years ago, and I put her in stasis, the TARDIS kept her company in her mind; they became fast friends. Brilliant!” He grinned down at me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me against him as we followed Mum to the tree. Then he paused, and I glanced up at him to ask why we had stopped. The grin melted from his face. “Although… I don’t much like the idea of the two of them plotting against me behind my back.”

I just laughed and put my head on his shoulder. “Blimey… you’re getting a bit paranoid! How long were you gone in your timestream?”

“Five and a half days, Rose. Five and a half days… with Jackie Tyler on my TARDIS! That’s enough to make anyone paranoid!”

I admit, Santa, I shamelessly started to laugh harder. “How did you ever survive?”

“After the first day, I learned pretty quick to keep my head down. I made myself scarce.”

“Oh, you’ll be all right.” I nudged him with my elbow. “They won’t plot against you…” (…much, I added silently.)

“I heard that!” He arched an irritable eyebrow at me. “Do you realize she’s got her own room, Rose? No, not room, suite! The TARDIS gave her an entire suite of rooms with her own telly and a little galley too!”

“Awww, that’s lovely.” I was warmed through that the TARDIS had welcomed Mum so enthusiastically. My darling husband, however, was another matter. “Don’t worry, Doctor, I’ll protect you from any plotting. C’mon, we better hurry. I don’t think Mum will be able to contain herself much longer.”

Mum was gathering everyone together, so she could hand out her creations, and getting a bit shirty at people who weren’t paying attention, so I dragged the Doctor over by the hand and found a comfortable seat for us.

Content that everyone was present and listening to her, Mum spoke: “I’ve decided to start a new Tyler-family tradition: Ugly Christmas Jumpers! Made by yours truly.” She preened and there was a round of groans from the family and a perplexed hoot from Hrau-Ard. “Oi! They’re not really ugly… that’s jus’ w’at they’re called, yeah. See I’m wearin’ one.” She stood up to show off the jumper she was wearing. It was made of soft, silvery yarn and she had sewn tinsel across the front to form the words “Don’t get your tinsel in a twist,” in cursive script. Of course, she also had tinsel tied around her up-do. She looked sparkly and lovely. My Mum… She’s been through so much in her life, experienced so many odd things, and taken it all in stride; things that would make most people go completely loopy. I love her so much. I was positively chuffed to see her so happy, handing out brightly coloured parcels to all our family.

Dad was the first one to get his present, and he was a real sport about it, donning both his new Santa jumper and the Santa hat Mum had included in his parcel. Everyone burst out laughing when he stood up and smoothed his jumper down over his tummy, and said: “Do you think this makes me look fat? Ho-ho-ho!”

“Oh, sit down, you!” Mum admonished, but I could tell she was pleased as punch.

After that there was great excitement as we all opened our packages. Abby’s jumper was the cutest little thing, with an adorable gingerbread man wearing a Santa hat on a bright, red background. There were miniature gingerbread men down the sleeves and a few white strategically-placed snowflakes. I figure it’ll be a new favourite piece of clothing for her doting daddies!

Javic’s jumper featured a grumpy Santa reading his list of children’s names. The words “I’m at the top of Santa’s naughty list,” were emblazoned underneath. He was ecstatic, claiming it couldn’t have been more perfect. My jumper was… well, glorious in it’s tackiness! And I loved it! Oh, Santa, it was TARDIS blue, and a string of knitted fairy lights trailed all over it. In the middle, the fairy lights formed the words “Merry and Bright” and were lit up with little LEDs. Mum had outdone herself.

Hrau-Ard seemed uncertain what to do with his package, but Charlie soon sorted him out, helping him unwrap the gift. He held the jumper up in front of him, looking around at everyone else trying theirs on. He peered at the design on the front, all of his eyes trained on the bright patterns, and gave a long low hoot.

“Well, are ya goin’ to put it on, then?” Charlie prompted. “Here, I’ll help ya!” Together, the two of them made short work of slipping off Hrau-Ard’s tan tunic and replacing it with the jumper.

Hrau-Ard stood up out of his chair to show his jumper off. It was long, like the undertunic he wore, dropping to mid-thigh, and had perfectly aligned spaces for all four of his upper limbs and his wings.

“The TARDIS helped Jackie with the proper design and style, so it was compatible with his cultural expectations and with his body configuration,” the Doctor murmured in my ear. “She even provided all the yarn, if you can believe that!”

I took a closer look at the jumper. It featured an green-clad elf body on a scarlet background. Like Dad’s jumper, Hrau-Ard’s head took the place of the elf’s head. The words underneath said: “Take an ‘elfie with me!” It was hilarious! We were all in stitches, especially Hrau-Ard, who particularly appreciated the pun in the wording, and was honking with joy, and pulling out his mobile to take ‘elfies with everyone.

I couldn’t help but notice Therin was the only one not laughing. He wasn’t even smiling. He sat on the other side of the room glowering at Charlie and Hrau-Ard and their easy familiarity. Clearly, he hadn’t gotten over Charlie. He still loved her, despite her obvious disinterest in him… at least as a romantic partner. My heart absolutely ached for him as he quietly trudged out of the room, wearing his Fair Isle T-rex jumper.

“I should go check on him,” I whispered to the Doctor.

“Nah, he needs to work this out for himself, love. He can’t change what’s in his heart. He just needs time to come to terms with it.”

“I hate to see him so miserable though… I wish I could−”

“Oi!” Mum’s shriek of disapproval cut through my thoughts. “Where’s your jumper, then, Doctor?”

The Doctor shifted nervously next to me, and I felt his crushing fear in my mind. He picked at the wrapping paper on the package in his lap.

“C’mon then, ya big baby! Open it up! I made it special, jus’ for you.”

“That… that’s what worries me,” he muttered under his breath.

“Here, I’ll help you,” I offered. Honestly, Santa, Mum was right. He was being a big baby about it. Coward every time. “Best get it over with, like ripping a plaster off.”

“I don’t like plasters, and I don’t like the sound of your mum saying, ‘special just for you’. That, right there, Rose, sends my entire brain into mauve status!”

“C’mon, how bad can it be?” Even as I said the words, I glanced over at Mum who was watching the Doctor with a piercing, self-satisfied eye, and I braced myself. “Never mind. Just get it over with, yeah.”

By this time, we had the attention of the whole room, and the Doctor in a less-than-convincing act of enthusiasm, tore away the wrapping paper in one fell swoop. He reached into the shredded paper and pulled out the jumper, holding it up gingerly. Santa, I nearly fell out of my chair laughing. I swear the tears were pouring down my face, and the Doctor was scowling at me.

I better explain. The torso and most of the arms of the jumper were mostly brown. Around the cuffs of the arms, and at certain places over the shoulders were knitted green leaves. Some of them also trailed over the torso and back. When we lifted the arms of the jumper, we found dangling from their undersides none other than beautifully crafted, little knit pears! Pears, Santa, which as I’m sure you know are the fruit the Doctor despises most in the universe… for reasons that have never been very clear to me.

The crowning glory was the gigantic bird sewn firmly to the left shoulder: a partridge.

Mum had given the Doctor a Partridge in a Pear Tree-themed jumper!

Strangely, the bird was not knitted but a small-scale but realistic model, complete with feathers… and that gave me pause for thought, and trust me when I say the thoughts were not optimistic for the Doctor…

“Well, w’at are you waitin’ for?” Mum barked. “Put it on, then?”

“What? You expect me to wear this travesty… this… this pitiable excuse for clothing? Nope. Nope. Nope. Not happening.”

“Oh, just put it on, Dad!” Hope cajoled from across the room. “We’re all wearing them.”

“Yours don’t have pears and a great bloody bird attached, do they?”

“The jumpers are splendid!” Hrau-Ard spoke up with an earnest honk. “This is the most comfortable piece of clothing I have ever owned. And it is humorous too. Doctor, you really should try yours.”

Mum just about melted on the spot at Hrau-Ard’s compliment. “Oh, Howard! You’re such a love. But, you’re just sayin’ that!”

“No, I am sincere, Jackie. It is perfect. I think I like Christmas. And Ugly Christmas Jumpers!”

“Well then, sweetheart, I’ll make you another for next year, yeah?

Howard… I mean Hrau-Ard hooted happily in response, and Mum turned her attention back to the Doctor, by which I mean, she glared daggers at him.

“Oh, all right,” the Doctor conceded, “…if it means I don’t have to listen to any more of your harping,” he added under his breath. He stalked off to the downstairs loo, crushing the jumper in his clenched fist.

“I better go help him out…” I made my excuses and rushed off after him.

I heard Wilfred snickering to Hope, Gray, and Tianza, as I passed them. “Ten quid says they’re off for a snog… or worse.”

Hope just laughed. “No deal, little brother! That’s a sure thing.”

“Oi!” (I’m sorry, I had to protest!) “Enough out of you lot!”

“C’mon, Mum, face it,” Charlie interjected, “you two are an embarrassment.”

“Yeah,” Wilfred agreed, “I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve had to spring the two of you from prison for public indecency.”

“Oi, what’s this then?” Mum leaned in for more tidbits of information, and I cleared out of the room as fast as I could.

Exasperated, I knocked on the powder room door. “Doctor, it’s just me.”

He opened the door to let me in.

“Blimey, we’ll have to watch ourselves. That lot are making wagers on whether or not we shag in here, and they’re telling Mum all about our arrests…”

He groaned, sniffing in disdain. “Bloody brilliant! Christmas, an annual excuse for almost completely unfounded gossip and rumour.”

“Exactly!”

“And then there’s this…” He held up the jumper. “I don’t know why I have to put on this preposterous get-up?”

“Because as I recall, a few years back, you mucked about with Mum’s dishwasher. Now it’s payback time,” I reminded him. “C’mon then…” I helped him pull off the (sexy) red jumper he was currently wearing, and I couldn’t resist running my fingers through the sparse hair on his chest. “Tell you what, though: if you’re a good boy and put the jumper on, I will make it very much worth your while…”

“Oh, yes!”

I dropped to my knees in front of him.

“What? Right now?”

“I’ll make it quick… I know all your secrets.”

He growled at me, his eyes darkening. “I’ll be wanting another round later tonight, Tyler.”

“You think so, do ya?”

“Of course, I’ll be happy to return the favour. I’ll make you come so hard, your screams will be heard all the way to Gallifrey and back! Think you’re up for that?”

I gazed up at him with what I hoped was a seductive smile and stroked him where he was now straining against the front of his trousers. “You��re on! But the real question is, can you manage not to scream? We don’t really need that lot making any more wagers at our expense.”

--ooOoo--

Sorry Santa, got off on a bit of a tangent there… It happens sometimes, as you’re well aware.

So… where was I? Oh, yeah, so fifteen minutes later, we came out of the loo. With my help (holding the partridge), we managed to get the jumper over the Doctor’s head. He looked very, very, extremely not happy, despite my recent… erm… display of affection. “I feel ridiculous!” he gritted out to me.

“It’s just for a few hours, love.” I patted his arm and took his hand for moral support and made bloody sure to conceal my amusement from him.

As we returned to the living room, out the corner of my eye, I was pretty certain I saw some money changing hands, although, to his credit, the Doctor had kept very quiet and I had checked that my hair and make-up were in order. Maybe they were wagering on whether he’d be wearing the jumper… Who knows?

Anyway, I had to agree with the Doctor’s assessment: the jumper did look more than a bit silly, but everyone cheered and laughed at it. They were having so much fun over it, and the Doctor ended up being a good sport, showing it off, spreading his arms and making silly faces about the “vile” pears dangling from them.

I admit, I kept to myself the fact that I thought there had to be more to it than just a jumper with pears and a big, daft bird. Mum had waited years to get her revenge. She wasn’t about to let him off with something so… simple. I could only wonder what she had planned and when it would happen.

As it turned out, I didn’t have to wonder very long.

It was only a few minutes later when Mum called us all over for supper. She, of course, had place-cards at every setting. The Doctor was sat between Hrau-Ard and Gray, somewhere in the middle of one long side of the table, and Mum and I were directly across from them. Charlie was on the other side of Hrau-Ard; Noah and Tony were sat on either side of Abby, who was in Tony’s old high chair at one end of the table; and Dad was at the other end. Everyone else was scattered randomly around.

As the first course was served, everyone began to chatter to one another. The Doctor seemed quite relaxed, but I couldn’t help noticing the way Mum’s eyes kept fixing on him as he made cheerful small talk to everyone around him. Her lips pursed reflexively every time he stopped talking. She tried a couple of times to get Dad to tell us about something that had happened at work, but he had insisted he didn’t want to talk shop. He was determined to take some time away from it.

“Fine,” Mum muttered under her breath, “just tryin’ to liven up the conversation. Honestly.”

“I thought we were having a lovely time,” I told her. “Everyone’s relaxed and chatting… well except Therin, but you know… What’s going on? You’re up to something. I know you. You never ask Dad about Torchwood.”

“Pfffft, don’t be daft! Course I ask ‘im. And jus’ w’at do you mean ‘up to somethin’’? W’at could I possibly be up to?” With that, she turned deliberately away from me and began speaking to Hope about the progress of the Lunar settlements and asking her how she was finding living on a base. “I don’ know if I could take it, yeah. No fresh air, being cooped up inside all the time. I think I’d lose my mind, yeah.”

The Doctor’s eyes brightened as he responded to her. I was relieved he didn’t end up spewing out something rude about her already having lost her mind years back, which honestly seemed like it would be the natural course of the conversation. Instead, he launched into one of his diatribes about the environmental systems on the bases and how they purify the air.

With a smirk, Mum sat back in her seat to listen.

“…and remarkably, the fundamental design never changes from base to base, year after year. It’ll be centuries before someone gets the bright idea that basic human needs aren’t quite being met by–″ He was cut off when the partridge on his shoulder swung around and flapped its tail across his face. He frowned, spun the bird back around, and began to speak again.

This time the bird nipped his ear.

“Fuck!” he shouted in pain, which of course was mimicked loudly by Abby at the other end of the table.

“You dolt!” Mum snapped. “Now, look what you’ve done!”

“Oi! It’s your blasted bird that bit me! Oi! It just did it again!”

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Giggles erupted from the little girl as her daddies tried to shush her, and everyone had a good laugh.

Except Mum (“Don’t be so stupid! It’s not a real bird, ya numpty!”); and the Doctor, who glowered at Mum but (remarkably) held his tongue.

“Mum,” I hissed at her, “it bit him. I saw it.”

“Bit him? Stuff and nonsense!”

The Doctor shook his head at me, and at his telepathic request, I decided not to pursue it any further.

Abby had calmed down again, her new word forgotten as quickly as it had come, and normal conversation resumed around the table as the main course was served. It wasn’t long before the Doctor had dived into a conversation about the most current medical breakthroughs with Gray and with Hrau-Ard, who was apparently training as a physician as well. They bantered back and forth for a short time and then the Doctor launched into a long discourse about the benefits of some sort of medical scanner or other. About a minute in, the bird wheeled around, slapping him in the face with its tail once more, and another few seconds after that, it bit him again.

“Right! Ow! Again, you bloody– Ow!” He dug into his trouser pockets for his sonic, threatening the bird with it. “Now, we’ll sort– Blimey! STOP! Ow!”

I glanced over at Mum who was chuckling away to herself, while everyone else was up, getting ready to help the Doctor. Oh, she knew exactly what was going on. And I had no doubt she had orchestrated it.

Hrau-Ard had stood up and was holding the bird still, his tentacled appendages wrapped around it securely. He was doing a great job keeping it from pecking at the Doctor’s ear, which seemed to happen every time he tried to talk.

Mum scoffed next to me. “Talks far too much, anyway, that one. Maybe this will teach ‘im to keep quiet and not monopolize the conversation.”

“So, this was you, then? How the hell did you...?”

“Oh, sweetheart, it only goes off when ‘e natters on for too long. It resets again after ‘e’s given our ears a bit of a break.”

“But…”

“Oh, I know a few of the folks down in Tech. They were quite ‘appy to do me a little favour, especially after ‘imself barged in there a month or so back and told ‘em they were sequencin’ somethin’-or-other all wrong.”

“He told me about that. It was all wrong!”

“Well, seems they didn’t like ‘is tone… all ‘igh and mighty and ‘I’m so clever’.”

I flopped back in my chair, and just shook my head. I returned my attention to the other side of the table where the Doctor had adjusted the settings on his sonic and was brandishing it at the animatronic bird.

“Oi,” Mum yelped, “don’t you damage my bird.”

“Priorities, Jackie! Your bloody bird is trying to damage me. Do you realize how hard I had to concentrate to get these ears… not to mention this hair?”

“It is really great hair,” I agreed.

“Oh, shush you!” Mum shot me a scathing look.

“Right then! Allons-y!” Heedless of my mum’s protests, the Doctor activated the screwdriver pointing it at his feathered attacker, and several things happened all at once.

The strangest screeching sound reverberated from Hrau-Ard’s crests in harmonics that mimicked the sonic. He lost his grip on the bird and doubled over, two of his appendages flying to his crests. “This tickles! This tickles! I think I am about to…”

The bird, freed from it’s confines, resumed its attack on the Doctor’s ear, feathers flying everywhere. The Doctor, fumbled his sonic screwdriver, caught it again, and made a quick adjustment to the frequency, constantly yammering and threatening the bird and Mum, not quite making the connection that if he just shut up, the stupid thing would stop pecking him. Finally finding an opening, he pressed the tip of the sonic to the bird’s breast, activating it with a triumphant “Ha!”

Hrau-Ard had resumed his composure once the sonic had stopped but started making that bizarre sound from his crests again once it was reactivated. His facial filaments were absolutely trembling. “It is happening again. I am going to… I am going to…″

The sound seemed to amplify the effects of the sonic. The hapless partridge stopped its attack, but its entire body began to pulse as the wailing hoots from Hrau-Ard’s crest intensified. Everyone was covering their ears, except the Doctor who had turned off the sonic, and was watching in horror, from the corner of his eye, the ominous pulsing of the bird on his left shoulder.

“I am going to–″ Hrau-Ard shouted, and his crests shrieked in a final eruption of noise, and the bird’s body suddenly exploded with a massive blast, sending feathers, sparks, and electronic gizmos everywhere.

“–sneeze,” Hrau-Ard hooted into the silence that had fallen over us all.

A long moment later, just as everyone was catching their collective breath, the Doctor yelped, as cinders from the explosion caught in his hair, causing it to smoulder and burn. “Ow, ow, ow! Blimey! My face! My hair!”

Abby started howling; everyone started shouting; I leaped across the top of the table to get to my poor husband; and Gray, the only one maintaining his composure, picked up a pitcher of ice water and dumped it over the Doctor’s head.

The Doctor sat there, completely stunned, as water dripped from his fringe into his face.

“Oh my God! Doctor!” I pulled his damp body against me, hugging him tight. “Are you all right?” I pulled back from the hug to look him in the face. I took in the angry red welts, the burned hair and…

He must have seen my astonishment. “What? What is it?”

“Your… your left eyebrow. It’s… it’s gone…”

“What? What?” His fingers flew to his brow, where the hair had been singed away. “WHAT?”

“And some of your hair… just up the left side…”

“Jackie Tyler!” he bellowed. He made to get up from his chair, but Gray shoved him back into it.

“Sit still! You have burns. I’ll need to use the dermal regenerator on them.”

“It won’t bring back my eyebrow, though, will it? My left eyebrow too. It’s my most expressive one,” he added wistfully.

Mum had come rushing around the table. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry! That wasn’t supposed to happen. I’ll cut your hair for ya, real nice. And your eyebrow will grow back again in no time, I expect.”

“Yeah, I suppose it will,” he said relaxing a bit. “And more expressive than ever! Makes you think, what would I ever do without eyebrows?” He shuddered at the thought. “And, Jackie, I have to admit, you couldn’t have known that the sonic would resonate with Hrau-Ard’s crests and make the bird explode like that. Though, I have to say, good riddance!”

“It is all my fault. I must apologize profusely,” Hrau-Ard hooted, his wings fluttering.

Mum protested, “Oh, no, Howard!”

“Nah, she’s right, Hrau-Ard,” the Doctor reassured him, “don’t be silly! But now I know not to use my sonic at that frequency in your presence.” He beamed. “Besides, what fun would Christmas be without a little bit of unexpected excitement?”

“At least there aren’t any blinkin’ killer Christmas trees, yeah?” Mum pointed out, as Gray finished up with the dermal regenerator.

“Oh yes! Too true. Looking on the bright side, Jackie. Do it while you can, because you know what…?” He bounded out of his chair, tore the remnants of the hapless partridge from his shoulder, and plucked the Santa hat from Dad’s head. He shoved it over his wet, scorched hair and with a wicked grin spreading over his face, he sang: “Jackie Tyler… you better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout. I’m telling you why: Santa Claus is coming to town.”

Oh, God, Santa, the look on Mum’s face. “Oh, you wouldn’t dare…”

“And Santa isn’t happy, Jackie. Really, you better watch out…” He skipped away out of the dining room, heading directly for the kitchen.

Mum took off after him. “You stay away from my appliances. You’re a bleedin’ hellion, you are,” she shouted.

Hrau-Ard honked in alarm and pulled Charlie next to him, wrapping his tentacles around her.

“Don’t worry, love,” Charlie sounded resigned, “you get used to it once you’ve been around this crowd long enough. We’re all a bit mental, but we all love one another.”

So, there it is, Santa. A typical Tyler-Noble Christmas!

I spent quite a while trying to intercept the Doctor before he did any damage to Mum’s kitchen... and other things. I actually found him mucking about in her en suite. Not sure if he managed to do anything before I caught up to him and got him back home, but at least I got to him before Mum did. Like I said before, he looks far too pleased with himself, despite the missing eyebrow and the singed hair. He must have left some sort of surprise behind for Mum. No doubt I’ll hear about it soon enough.

And right now, I’m just waiting for him to “return the favour” he promised me in Mum’s powder room earlier, something about making me scream so loud I’d be heard all the way to Gallifrey. He’s just spending an awful long time in the loo... probably trying out my eyebrow pencils, if I know him. Maybe later I’ll take the TARDIS out, go back a few days, and get him some of his own for his stocking before everyone gets up tomorrow morning.

Happy Christmas, Santa. Give my love to all. Sorry for going off on a bit of a tangent earlier. I was just lying here, waiting for the Doctor and thinking… Oh, I reckon you’re used to it by now, yeah. There’ve been a few tangents over the years and I haven’t had a lump of coal yet. But, just saying, if you feel the urge to leave a lump of coal in the Doctor’s and my mum’s stockings, by all means, go right ahead! I’m all for it!

Love, Rose

#doctorroseprompts #kidfic #tentoo x rose #christmas fic #extreme silliness #fluff #family #hurt/comfort #ficandchips #tenroseforeverandever's fic

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