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eva-knits12 · 9 months

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Grocery Shopping with Steve Rogers

Trigger warning: PTSD, grocery shopping, crowds, anxiety, abusive marriage (not you and Steve), fluff.

Summary: Steve goes grocery shopping for the first time since getting out of the ice. You help him navigate the modern supermarket.

Steve wakes up on this warm Monday morning, He turns on his coffee maker, and then heads to the bedroom. He grabs his jeans and a sweater. He brushes his teeth, and then showers.

Today, he has to go grocery shopping. Steve has no milk, no eggs, no coffee after this pot, no creamer, and has only two slices of bread. Steve prepares himself some oatmeal, and toasts the last two slices of bread. When the toast pops, he slathers the slices with butter and some grape jelly. When his oatmeal is ready, he puts on some blueberries and bananas and eats his breakfast.

He then makes his list. You're still sleeping, so it will be a while before you wake up. Steve doesn't like going to the grocery store, he remembered when he used to get his groceries delivered. He remembers when his mother would go to the corner market to get things such as coffee, tea, sugar, flour, soap, and cans of soup. He remembers when his mother would go to the butcher and get things such as beef, pork, and chicken when the food budget would allow for such things.

You wake up, brush your teeth, wash your face, and then shower. You make instant pancakes and some instant sausage in the microwave, and put butter and syrup on the pancakes. You eat your breakfast, and drink your coffee. Your wearing a black skirt and a red blouse. You also need to do your grocery shopping, but that's going to have to wait until after work.

You meet Steve at the elevators and greet each other with a kiss. You and Steve have only been dating for a few months, and

"Good morning, doll," Steve says.

"Good morning, Captain Handsome," you say.

You two talk about your plans for the day, and since you both need to go grocery shopping, you two would make a date out of it. You two were holding hands while you were walking and talking on your way to the meeting room.

You and Steve go to the meeting to discuss the latest mission. You make the coffee, both regular and decaf, and you get the donuts and various other breakfast pastries. Steve is helping you set up the meeting room, and Nick Fury and Phil Coulson walk in,

Tony was discussing the latest mission, in which several hostages were taken. What was supposed to be two days max took four days because they were trying to free the hostages while dealing with Hydra agents. Of course, every mission was followed by a meeting, and Tony and Nick and Coulson needed to know why this mission, even short, took longer than expected.

After that, you and Steve went to lunch in the cafeteria, and talked while you were on your way to the cafeteria. Steve had his arm around your shoulders and kissed your forehead. You were holding onto his arm.

You two talk and eat your lunch. Steve goes back to his apartment, and fixes himself a cup of coffee and reads his book. You go back to Tony, and finish up your work. You finish making the copies and type of a summary of the meeting to e-mail to Tony, Nick, and Coulson. You leave when you're done.

When you arrive home, you call Steve and make your grocery list.

"Well, Captain Handsome, I can't wait to go grocery shopping," you say.

"I really don't know what I'm doing, where I'm going. The modern supermarket confuses me," says Steve.

"Look, when we go, there will be less people. Before, we'll get some Chinese. It's my ritual before I go grocery shopping," you say.

Steve and you talk some more. He's been curious about Chinese food, and has yet to try modern Chinese food. When he was growing up, there was only a few things on the menu to choose from.

Steve comes over, and greets you with a kiss. You two talk, and you're wearing your black jeans with your Docs, and a sweater.

"What's Wor Su Gai?" asks Steve when you two arrive at the Chinese restaurant and looks at the menu.

"It's Almond Boneless Chicken," you explain.

"The sweet and sour chicken sounds interesting," says Steve.

You two place your order, and you both talk while you're both waiting for you meal. You two share off of each others plates, and you both steal a kiss while you both are eating. You go to pay, but Steve insists on paying.

Steve hails a taxi, and you guys go to the grocery store. You both start on the pharmacy end of the store, and Steve gets some toothpaste, a toothbrush, some deodorant, and some soap. You get your favorite Cover Girl mascara, some body wash, some tampons, and some chap stick. Steve is amazed at the choices that are out there.

You then get some flavored creamer, and Steve is not only amazed by the brands, he's amazed by the flavors.

"Steve, it's just creamer. It's not going to bite you," you say.

'Doll, where is the half and half?" asks Steve.

"Try the dairy case, it's usually in there," you say.

Steve grabs the half and half, and looks at the price.

"I don't remember it being THAT much," Steve says.

"Steve, prices have gone way up thanks to several decades of inflation," you say.

You hear a loud noise, and start to feel the walls closing in. You immediately feel your heart rate rise. You start to feel shortness of breath, and you feel dizzy. Steve asks if your okay, and he immediately sees that your not. Steve guides you to the ground, and tells you that you're okay.

"Can you tell me five things you see?" asks Steve. You name five things you see.

"Can you name four things that you can touch?" asks Steve. You name four things that you can touch.

"Can you name three things that you can hear?" asks Steve. You name three things that you can hear.

"Can you name two things that you can smell?" asks Steve. You name the two things that you can smell.

"Can you name one thing you can taste?" asks Steve. You name the one thing that you can taste.

A small crowd has gathered, and Steve's PTSD is triggered by that. He just wants you to be okay. Steve doesn't really like crowds, and hearing the noise of a man yelling at his wife also triggered his PTSD. Any loud noise triggered it, and Steve was trying to keep himself together for you.

Steve instinctively ran towards the noise. It's a man who is screaming at his wife for not putting an item on the list, and then misspelling a word on the list. He's screaming and belittling her, and you're having a flashback from the time you were in an abusive relationship. That triggered your PTSD.

You're still sitting on the ground, hugging your knees, and trying to self-soothe. Tears are stinging your eyes, and you are now shaking and you don't even realize that your body is now having a reaction. With shaky hands, you try to reach for your purse to take a Valium, only you can't seem to unzip your purse.

"Oh, doll. This isn't about you. This is about him," says Steve, who has his arms wrapped around you, and pulls you close to him. Steve helps you unzip your purse, and gives you the pill bottle. You take the pill, and Steve let's you take a sip of water from the small water bottle that you keep in your purse.

Steve helps you up when you feel like you can. You grasp onto your cart, and standing feels strange right now. Steve holds you until the feeling passes.

"Steve, I'm sorry. I....I....I....," you say.

"Shh, doll. This is about him," says Steve.

You realized that it was this wasn't your abusive ex. After the Avengers confronted your ex, they helped get him jail. It took a while just to go out to do simple tasks. At first, you could barely make it out the front door without having an anxiety attack. Steve gave you time. Tony arranged for you to see a therapist. Sam was right, talking about what happened was the first step towards healing.

Steve was just there. He wouldn't let you go anywhere without him. Tony was making sure that you stuck to a normal routine at work. Natasha and Wanda and Pepper often had a girls night with you, where you guys would end it with a spa night and a sleepover. Everybody did their part in order to make you feel some sense of normalcy.

After, you and Steve head over to the produce and fruit section. You guys get the basics, and then it's off to the bakery section. You want to get some bread, and Steve got some cupcakes. Steve was amazed at the selection of cupcakes. There were only two flavors when he was growing up-chocolate and vanilla-but today, there's red velvet, coconut, mint chocolate, strawberry, lemon, key lime, Boston cream, s'mores, orange vanilla, pineapple, matcha, even mixed berry.

Next up is the bread aisle, and Steve is confused by all the breads available. His mother often made bread from scratch every day because sliced bread wasn't available until he turned 10. Even so, it was still cheaper to make bread from scratch, because sliced bread was expensive then. Steve was amazed at how cheap sliced bread was and the variety of sliced bread available. There was white bread, whole wheat, whole grain, bread with oatmeal on top, cinnamon raisin bread, hearty grain, Hawaiian bread, egg bread, potato bread, Italian bread, pumpernickel bread, rye bread, bread without the crusts, pita bread, and even pretzel bread.

You get some whole wheat and some white, and Steve gets two packages of white bread. You then move onto the meat section, and Steve is amazed. He gets some packaged bacon and packaged sausage, hamburgers, hot dogs, and some lunch meat. You get some meatballs, some ground beef and some ground turkey, some lunchmeat, and some hot dogs.

You then move on to the soup aisle, and you get several cans of soup. You get some tomato, some chicken noodle, some chicken tortilla, and even some lentil soup. Steve is looking for the Campbell's condensed version, which is still available. But, when he sees your carts with the Progesso soup, he asks what it is.

"Doll, what's that?" asks Steve.

"It's soup, Steve. You just open the can, pour it in a pot, and then let it simmer until it's hot. The water is already included, so it saves you a step," you say.

"How is this possible? And why does it cost this much?" says Steve.

"Its decades of inflation," you say. "Add competition into the mix, and that's what you get, companies competing for prime shelf space," you say.

"For decades, it was Campbell's. Now, Progresso has upped the canned soup game, there was competition. Add in gluten-free soups, soups made with organic ingredients, and soups that are low in sodium and soups that offer healthier options, that increases the competition for shelf space," you say.

Next up is the pasta aisle, and you buy some penne, some campanelle pasta, some spaghetti, and some macaroni. Steve is amazed that pasta is still cheap.

Steve also gets some rice, and he's amazed that rice can now come in individual sizes. You explain that you don't have to make a lot of it, when you just want a little of it. It's easier, and saves a bunch of time and clean up.

Next up is the baking aisle. Steve is amazed that there are boxed mixes of cakes, brownies, cookies, and even muffins. You explain that the mixes are just dry ingredients that have been mixed and measured for you, and you just add in the wet ingredients. You also explain that you only need one bowl to make it, and you just need to preheat the oven, pop it in, and let it bake. You still made your cookies and cakes from scratch.

Next up is the cereal aisle, and Steve gets some oatmeal. He's amazed at the selection of flavors, and that you don't have to buy a huge thing of it. You just add warm milk or boiling water, and Steve remembers when that's all him and his mom had to eat at times.

Steve goes to the coffee aisle, and gets his favorite brand of coffee. You get some, and he's amazed at the kinds of coffees that are available, he's also amazed that it's already ground. You explain that it's easier, and that this saves space, and saves time. There is still whole bean coffee available, but very few people own a coffee grinder nowadays. Most own a pot, or a Keurig. Steve is confused.

You explain that a Keurig is an individual coffee maker, but you need to buy the pods of coffee.

"Pods?" asks Steve.

"Yes, pods. It's easier, but they're expensive. Not everyone owns a Keurig. I own a $20 coffee maker, and I prefer it," you say.

Steve looks at you in amazement.

"Wait, you own a regular old coffee maker?" asks Steve. Steve owns one, too.

"Yes, it's just cheaper," you say.

You go to the cookie aisle, and get the store brand of Oreo's. Steve is confused at the prices, and you explain that the store brand tastes no different than the name brand. You and Steve go to the chip aisle, and he's amazed by the selection and the flavors. Steve had chips as a rare treat, but now it's an every day food. You explain that they're cheap, and it's a a cheap appetizer at parties. Chips are convenient when you have a sandwich, a hot dog, or a hamburger, you explain. Plus, there's low sodium, salt and vinegar, barbecue, sour cream and onion, sour cream and cheddar, kettle chips, ruffled chips, even tortilla chips. Steve has curious about Mexican food, and has always wanted to try tortilla chips.

"Chips?! We only had regular," Steve says.

Next up is the frozen foods, and you get some ice cream. Steve is amazed at the all of the flavor selections that isn't chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, and even mint chocolate chip.

"Wow, ice cream is expensive," says Steve.

"It really isn't when you factor in individual servings. Plus, competition between companies. The store brand has some really good flavors, and factor in lactose free, ice cream made from coconut milk and oat milk, almond milk, sugar-free ice cream, and even brands such as Graeter's and Haagan-Dazs, and Ben and Jerry's, ice cream makers are competing for space in the frozen food section. It's not about the product, it's about the brand," you say. Ice cream was a rare treat for Steve.

Next up is the frozen dinners, followed by the frozen pizza. Steve is amazed by all of these culinary revolutions. You explain that you can either make the frozen dinners in the microwave or in the oven. Most will just have microwave instructions, and there those such as Stouffer's or Banquet that will have oven instructions. You explain that frozen dinners became a thing when he was still frozen in the ice.

He looks at the pizza. He's confused by the pizza. You explain that frozen pizza is cheap, and that there are several brands. Each brand has improved upon quality.

You and Steve finish. You have everything in your carts. The cashier is scanning the purchase, and the bagger is bagging the groceries. He loads everything back in your cart, and you call for Tony. One of Tony's driver's arrives, and waits for you in the parking lot, in the line where they have cars waiting to pick up passengers, and shoppers getting into their taxis.

You wait for Steve. Steve is amazed that the cashier is scanning his groceries, and not entering them in by hand. The cashier explains that this way is much quicker, and the only things that get entered in by hand are items that are weighable. He might have to enter in a discount by hand at times, but that's rare.

The bagger bags Steve's groceries, and he's amazed that everything is placed in plastic bags. The bagger says that he'll still have a job in a year, it's just that everyone will now have to purchase reusable bags because it's a way to help the environment. Steve is amazed because he explains that the corner grocery store always used paper bags when he was growing up.

Steve is finally done, and Steve and you load your groceries into Tony's car. Tony's driver, Happy, gladly takes you both back to Stark Tower, and gets the available security guards to help you both take your groceries back to your apartments.

Happy also explains that you can arrange for a grocery delivery.

"Wait, we can have our groceries delivered?" asks Steve.

"Yeah, Tony has it available for all of his employees. I had to use it a few weeks ago when I had a migraine, and it was grocery day. You just put in for delivery on the store's site, and they'll take it from there," you explain. Steve remembers when his mom used to get their groceries delivered, and when Steve was in his teens, him and Bucky worked as delivery boys for the local grocery store.

You and Steve kiss, say your goodbyes, and you and Steve go back to your apartments to unpack your groceries. Steve then calls you to say good night, and you can't wait for tomorrow.

Shopping with Steve was surprisingly easy.

#steve rogers #grocery shopping #grocery store #grocerylist #depression and anxiety #anxiety attack #ptsd #chinese food

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maschotch · 2 years

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Coffee Order

day 3: warm beverages

this is probably the closest I can get to writing a crack fic. the premise might be ridiculous, but I believe they’re wholehearted in their sincerity. it is, at least, by far the silliest headcanon I have

A caffeine shortage would prove deadly at the BAU. The religious devotion to coffee—even cheap, cop coffee—was practically a job requirement. Having “coffee fiend” on your resume was the equivalent of Reid’s several doctorates, maybe even more important. Chugging a red bull laced with five-hour energy is not an experience exclusive to college finals, but at least the fine agents at the BAU had the sense to be discreet about it.

As such, morning coffee was more than an essential. The problem, however, was that not everyone was able to handle temperamental coffee machines available in the various precincts/hotel rooms the team found themselves in. Spencer and Hotch seemed to be the only ones capable of coaxing anything remotely drinkable out of whatever sub-par materials they had to work with. The rest lamented over the slow trickle of laughably watery liquid that filled their mugs. Most had to push away tears as they threw the drink away (other than Emil, who would rip open packets of Splenda and down the drink, pretending not to shudder as she stubbornly refused to admit defeat). It was truly a mockery of a morning ritual.

Many just gave up. JJ could usually bat her eyelashes to get some low-ranked officer to go fetch her a drink. Morgan made a point of waking up early to make a stop at the nearest place offering coffee—whether it’s a coffee shop, gas station, or fast food joint—before rejoining the rest of the team. Rossi followed suit, but was much more comfortable strolling into work half an hour late with a to-go cup from some ridiculously overpriced café, unphased by Hotch’s pointed glares at his tardiness. The lengths they would go to would be laughable, if pitying their desperation wasn’t a guaranteed way of getting shot.

If she called early enough in the morning, Penelope could expect uncharacteristically biting responses to her bubbly greetings. She knew better than to take it personally: they didn’t bother hiding their envy, knowing that she always brought a thermos of ambrosia to savor.

(After hearing JJ complain about breakroom coffee for the umpteenth time, Penelope brought an additional thermos the next morning. Like sharks sensing blood in the water, the rest of the team quickly descended and begged for their own with strained politeness. She woke up early the following day to prepare a gallon to satiate her enthralled coworkers but made sure to tell them it was a one-time thing. She loves them, but there are limits to the effort she’ll go to prove it at seven in the morning.)

Hotch categorically refused to shell out federal funds for a group Starbucks run, which would normally make him a target for violence if he wasn’t the only one capable of making something palatable with the shittiest ingredients available. Spencer was good for a spare mug on occasion (which was usually reserved for Derek), but the young genius typically needed a pot to himself to maintain coherence. The others had no choice but to rely on Hotch’s benevolence.

Because he was really good at making coffee. Rossi credited that to years of training, meaning accompanying senior agents in the early BAU days and forced to make their coffee or risk getting ditched to find his own way back to Virginia—or worse, have to sit in a car for six hours with an ill-tempered Max Ryan. (At least, that was Rossi’s excuse for why he barely knew how to use a coffee-maker in the first place.) Truthfully none of that really mattered to the rest, as long as they stayed on Hotch’s good side long enough (or at least early enough in the morning) to be graced with a drinkable cup of coffee.

If Hotch knew how the others felt, he didn’t let on. His routine just happened to work out so the others benefited from his rituals. He was usually the first one at the office, and even if he was nowhere to be found in the bullpen (why bureaucrats were so adamant about scheduling meetings first thing in the morning was beyond him), there was usually a pot waiting as the others trickled in.

It wasn’t just “the fantastical seven” (or whatever nickname Penelope had bestowed on the group that week) who recognized the unit chief’s skills. It was an unspoken understanding between the agents working in the bullpen that the drinking habits of the floor should be tailored around Hotchner’s schedule: the pot should be empty when he usually took his breaks. If there was an anomaly and he started heading towards the kitchenette area at a different time, someone dutifully distracted him with some inane question about paperwork until the others could drain the remaining coffee before his arrival.

(Whether he knew the reason or not, the most unproductive days at the BAU were undoubtedly his days off. He seemed to know it subconsciously—maybe that was the reason he was so loathe to take a vacation, no matter how well-deserved. They either took too long outsourcing caffeinated beverages or they spent the day agitated and grumpy.)

When they were out on a case, he usually got to the precinct early enough each day to brew the first pot. But the true luxury only happened in smaller towns (or crowded hotels) where they had to double up and share rooms. Of course there were drawbacks to bunking with Hotch: he really was a painfully early riser, and while he remained as respectfully quiet as possible in the mornings, there was an inevitable twinge of embarrassment when the temporary roommate woke to a completely empty room and a bed so neat that it might not have even been slept in.

The team would still silently bicker amongst themselves, however, to decide who would be the lucky one to wake up to the freshly brewed pot waiting for them.

#could you summon up the gist of all my cm hcs by saying 'hotch is good at everything'?#yes. and what about it #cm writings #cm fics #aaron hotchner #curse these fall days

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ducknewtonscoolhat · 11 months

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For your ducknerva otp ask: 2, 4, 17, or 24!

These are so fun and sweet and I wanna hear your thoughts!!!

🦆

2. Any sleep habits either had to get used to? UH Okay, so I 100% Believe that Duck snores. LOUD. But the thing is, I also believe that Minerva is just a VERY heavy sleeper and, while this is the case, she also has an internal clock that makes her get up VERY early. Duck is used to sleeping in cause he takes night shifts usually as a ranger, so he either wakes up early with her, fucking exhausted, or has to get used to being awakened by his wife and then go back to sleep.

4. What’s a Night Out for them? HEHEHE!! Okay so in my opinion going out for them is rare. They don't really like spending money at places, at all, when they do go out they do so on their own terms, if that makes sense. They enjoy picnics and star-gazing together!

17. Morning rituals? Minerva gets up first, as stated before, pretty early. She makes breakfast for herself, struggling for a while to learn how to work appliances but she gets it eventually, before taking a morning shower. She showers every other day and then as soon as that, she works out, which afterwards I can imagine she rinses off after. She works out for a while or until Duck awakes. He grabs coffee right away before either throwing in some toast or Minerva ends up making breakfast for him and he takes a while to get himself to wake up.

24. What do their texts look like? Oh this'll be fun. Duck has her set as 'Minnie' Minerva has Duck set as 'DUCK NEWTON <3' I can imagine she enjoys heart emojis. Their texts look like this DUCK NEWTON! WHEN WILL YOU BE HOME, MY LOVE! soon PLEASE MAKE SURE TO GIVE ME A, WHAT YOU HAVE CALLED, AN ETA IF YOU ARE WILLING, DUCK NEWTON! k will do ❤ THANK YOU DUCK NEWTON! I WILL SEE YOU AT HOME! yup ------------------------- Listen Duck is a dry texter, no one can tell me otherwise :) Hope you enjoyed these CAUSE I LOVED WRITING THEM!!! I love them so much I love ducknerva with all my heart they mean the world to me

#taz amnesty #duck newton #ducknerva #minerva #the adventure zone #taz #duck newton fan account #ask #ask away #ask game #answered

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bimboamyrose · 2 years

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Unfamiliar (Ch. 13)

Ch. 13 - Equinox ☆ Unfamiliar - A Metamy Fanfic

First two chapters ☆ Previous (Ch.12)

♥ Artwork by @mmm-asbestos ♥

(Left some notes at the end in regards to the updating the fic)

Ch. 13: Equinox

As her coffee brewed, Amy set out two home-baked muffins for breakfast, adding a small bowl of fruit to share. Sonic had plopped himself on the couch the moment they walked through the door and she’d offered to share some breakfast as long as he was there. Now, as she poured them each a hot mug and called him over to eat, she received no response. Amy peeked ahead into the living room to find Sonic fast asleep on her sofa. She clicked her tongue in annoyance. But he hadn’t slept all night, which worried her, so she thought it best to let him lie there a while. She didn’t have anywhere to be until past noon, anyway..

Amy stepped outside to enjoy breakfast on her back porch so as not to disturb her snoozing friend. She looked up at the clear sky and wondered vaguely why Metal hadn’t yet returned. The main issue on her mind, however, was the conversation she’d had with Sonic on the way home. She couldn’t remember a time when he was so high strung- not that he would ever let on. But Amy could feel the anxiety in his dialogue and body language as he seemed to get ahead of himself, frequently outpacing her and hardly taking a breath between words. It was ironic, asking him to slow down; but he’d wanted to walk, after all. So he would apologize, take a breath, and continue speaking until he steadily got too quick to keep up with again. It was making Amy tense.

They discussed what they thought Eggman could be up to. Mostly, Sonic shared a dozen increasingly dubious theories until Amy finally managed to get a word in. “Why don’t we just ask Eggman?” she suggested.

“And you’re calling my ideas crazy,” he chuckled in response. “You think he’ll just tell us? What if he traps us?”

“He’s avoiding trouble for now. Maybe we can sniff something out even if he doesn’t tell us the truth.”

Sonic pondered on it for a moment before snapping his fingers. “I bet we can get him to lead us to his real base. Then we can plant one of Tails’ data reader things on his computer.”

Amy nodded. “That might actually work. And Eggman’s not exactly the hands-off type, I bet we’ll find him at the construction site at some point.”

“Let’s ask around,” Sonic nodded, before proudly adding “Pretty good idea, Ames.”

She giggled back at him humbly, somewhat flushed over the compliment. They agreed to work out the details the next day as Amy still had to get ready for the festival. Sonic looked surprised. “That’s today? Is that why you were up that hill?”

“Yeah, I was doing this silly ritual,” Amy replied as indifferently as possible. “You really didn’t know? How’d you find me?”

It was Sonic’s turn to look sheepish. “When you weren’t home, I kinda just ran around the valley looking for you. I know you’re an early bird and all…”

“Not that early. Well, not usually,” Amy laughed. It was a shame, though; she thought Sonic had at least remembered that she’d told him about the equinox and perhaps had some clue of where she would be.

With that, Sonic offered to carry her the rest of the way home in his usual impatient manner. Once there, he sleepily asked for a cup of coffee but was out like a light before he could drink it. It had been ages since Sonic crashed at Amy’s house. Normally, she enjoyed his company in the morning, but it felt awkward now that she no longer lived alone. Staring off into the sparkling sea, Amy sipped from her mug absently and tried not to think about how much her feet ached from the downhill hike in her questionable footwear.

The familiar electric buzz of Metal’s engine could be heard above. Shielding her eyes as she looked to the sky, Amy waved him down to join her. “Hey Metal. Wanna sit?” she called out as he landed. He was headed for the back door when she continued, “Wait! Sonic’s napping! Let’s hang out here so we don’t wake him.” Metal marched over incredulously and sunk into the seat with crossed arms. Amy pouted back at him. “You okay?”

He looked ahead into the ocean with a slight shrug. The interruption earlier had left him irritable. What’s more, he had questions and wanted to get something to write with, but Sonic was somehow getting in the way of that, too.

“Don’t be so grumpy,” she chuckled. When he refused to acknowledge her, Amy scooted her chair closer to him. “Come on, it’s such a nice day,” she sighed, resting her head gingerly on his shoulder.

It caught him off guard and Metal stiffened at her touch, stifling his whirring turbine in the hopes Amy wouldn’t notice. If she did, she made no mention of it, only continuing to lean on him gently. “Maybe I’ll take one later, too,” she yawned. Metal relaxed his body gradually and turned his head in her direction.

He wanted to bring up what she had begun to tell him that morning, but he wouldn’t push Amy in her groggy state. Her heart rate had been decreasing steadily and her eyelids fluttered as she rubbed her arms against the cool breeze. He would have let her sleep if he thought she’d be comfortable, but he recognized his exceedingly firm shoulder wasn’t much of a pillow. Before Amy could fall asleep completely, he rose, picking her up in his arms. The sudden movement surprised her, but she was too tired to complain. Even growing used to his care, however, Amy couldn’t keep herself from becoming at least a little red-faced when she was met with such tenderness. She hid her face away and her words came out muffled. “Are we going inside?” He nodded as he made his way toward the back door. “Don’t wake Sonic…” Metal was glad she couldn’t see him rolling his eyes. Fair enough; he could be quiet if he wanted to.

Sliding the door open slowly, Metal tiptoed across the house into the bedroom, somehow keeping from expressing his displeasure as he passed Sonic snoozing on the couch. Amy smiled affectionately as he lowered her onto her bed. “So warm!” she kicked off her sandals and buried herself under the sheets immediately. “Thanks for taking me everywhere,” she murmured. “I hope it’s not too much trouble…”

Metal took a seat on the floor at her bedside, leaning on the nightstand and waving a hand flippantly; as if carrying such a lightweight would be cumbersome to him. Besides, he felt it was the least he could do, but opted not to start a dialogue with her while she tried to rest. It was almost 9:00 AM when she was asleep, and Metal set his alarm for 11:00. He needed to recharge as well, so he went idle, thinking it best to conserve what energy he had until he reached Tails later. He expected to come back online just before 11:00- but a voice awoke him about half an hour earlier than that.

“Amy, you here?” Sonic called from the other room. Metal shot up and past her doorway to address him. “Oh, Metal. Where’s Amy?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. Metal held a finger up to his own face as if to shush him.

Having Metal scold him for making noise in his friend’s home was surreal, but Sonic couldn’t deny how strangely pleasant it was to know Metal was taking care of Amy, just as she’d done for him. It didn’t mean he’d let his guard down, however.

He stretched silently under Metal’s unblinking gaze. The breakfast Amy had set out earlier caught his eye, so Sonic snatched up the muffin as he headed out the back. “Gotta get going. Tell Amy thanks for me,” he mumbled. Metal followed him, determined to shut the door quietly himself. Halfway out, Sonic paused and turned back to him. “Got a question. Are you gonna stick around? Since you and Amy keep looking out for each other...”

Metal’s eyes darted before settling downward, looking bitterly toward the ground. He had no answer.

“Hmph. Well, think about it.” Sonic took a bite of his breakfast and gave a wave of his hand before darting off. Metal softly slid the door closed after him.

Think about it. All Metal ever did was think about it, but there were questions that needed answering. He intended to ask Amy to continue her story later, and the sooner the day went by, the sooner, he hoped, there would be answers. It was 23 minutes before the alarm went off. Then Amy would get ready. Then he would take her to her event. Then he’d see Tails. And then-

“Did Sonic leave?” Amy murmured sleepily. He turned to find her leaning on the bedroom doorway, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

How dejected she looked. Sonic left without a thank you or a goodbye even after Amy dropped what she was doing to attend to him. She’d done it without hesitation. What’s more, she inconvenienced herself to keep the house quiet and he couldn’t be bothered to do the same. Metal felt aggrieved on her behalf- he knew the importance that morning’s ritual had for Amy, didn’t Sonic? Weren’t they friends? All Metal could do was nod back at her.

She rested her cheek against the doorframe. “I guess he had somewhere to be....”

Metal watched as Amy rubbed her sore feet together when a resentful thought came to mind; She would have been better off coming home with him. He wished she hadn’t left his side so readily when Sonic showed up.

“I should freshen up.” Amy disappeared into her room once more and Metal snatched his book from the coffee table, making his way outside in a huff. He just wanted to get the day over with.

He was just finishing the last pages of the novel when Amy emerged some time later with her shawl in one hand and a threaded needle in the other. She nestled herself into her chair and greeted Metal with a silent grin.

Metal turned his attention to her mending. She ladder-stitched her way up the tear slowly, neatly- yet the stitches remained visibly all the way up. When she got to the end of the torn part, Amy pulled her thread tightly and brought the fabric together, the stitches disappearing under the fold. Metal cocked his head toward her work upon seeing the technique, causing her to giggle. “Neat trick, huh? Told you it was an easy fix.”

Metal understood the trick now. It was an interesting procedure, but simple all in all. He laid back again slowly, considerably calmer than he’d been when Amy came out of her room.

Amy finished the mend with a knot, snipping the thread with a small pair of scissors. “Sorry about earlier. Sonic can be a little…” she waved her hand around vaguely with a sigh. He looked ahead with a shrug. “You finished the book! Interesting, huh?”

After a long journey, the hero returned home and eventually reunited with his family. It’s a happy ending if one chooses to ignore the epilogue where he’s killed in battle sometime later. Metal sank down further, tossing the book aside as Amy stifled a snort. “Nothing’s as simple as it seems, I guess.” They sat together another few minutes, enjoying the scenery and tepid weather before heading off.

-----

Amy’s eyes widened as she took in the sights of the equinox festival. Vendor booths offering jewelry, crystals, and enticing snacks lined one side of the large forest clearing while a series of colorful tents lined the other. Several small groups of people sat in discussion circles and exchanged items. Some young girls hung garlands and lights from the trees, presumably to be used in the evening for the closing ceremonies. Amy had never seen so many people practicing in one place. “They have- oh, and look! Don’t those look cool?” she didn’t know where to start.

It intrigued Metal to see her so excited. They’d arrived early, so he gestured for her to take the lead. Amy took hold of his outstretched hand and skipped toward the booths with such zeal that she pulled him along without his input. Something about her fervor really seemed to increase her strength.

As she perused through the first handful of booths, Metal could hear some people whispering and noticed as they gestured toward him. He was ready to feel annoyed over the situation, but their enthusiastic smiles and looks of interest were certainly… different from what he’d experienced in town days earlier. No one here appeared taken aback, just excited.

“Hey, what do you think of this?” Amy picked up an earthy, leather-bound journal and held it up to him. “Touch it! It’s so smooth.”

He hesitantly brought his palm up, gently making contact with the book. It was surprisingly pleasant to touch. Metal carefully rubbed the cover between his thumb and forefinger, enjoying the supple texture.

“It smells so nice- oh, I guess you can’t really tell, though…” Amy sheepishly replaced the journal on the booth when the girls who had been decorating the trees earlier skipped up behind them in a fit of giggles. Amy beamed back at them. “Well, hi! Aren’t you cute?”

One of the girls bashfully handed Amy a white daffodil. “To match your dress!”

Amy strained to keep her composure. “Oh, my… Thank you!” She took the flower with a grateful smile- It was all she could do to keep from squealing and tearing up joyfully.

“This one’s for you,” another girl said, reaching up to hand Metal a long stem of bluebells.

He froze, eyes shooting back toward Amy nervously, who nodded keenly back. Metal reached down, mindful of his claws, and took the stem in both hands with some bewilderment. Now what? He looked back to Amy, who was giggling at him playfully.

The first girl clapped. “He likes it!”

“Can you help us, mister?” another asked, already pulling on his leg.

“You’re so tall!” the girl who’d handed him the flower pointed a finger up at Metal.

Overwhelmed at all the little hands, Metal looked from one girl to another before relenting. His vision shot back towards Amy a final time as he made his way across the clearing with the children laughing and hopping around him. She held her face in her hands merrily- He supposed it was meant to be encouraging.

That was so cute… Amy thought. She took a deep breath and turned back to the stationary booth. The woman who stood at the other side leaned in to address her.

“Don’t believe I’ve seen you around before. Welcome!”

“Oh! Thank you,” Amy returned. “Yeah, it’s my first time.”

“What do you practice?”

“Tarot, mostly.”

“Oh?” The woman raised a brow. “I thought you might be a mind-reader.” When Amy’s confusion made its presence aware on her face, the woman continued. “That tall fella that was with you, you have a psychic connection, no?”

Amy was confused. “No? I’m not gifted with telepathy or anything...”

“Ah.” The two looked at one another awkwardly for a moment. Then, suddenly, they both burst into laughter and the tension disappeared. The woman’s initial reaction was strange, but Amy was just thankful that people were being kind to them here. “So you’re just close friends, then?” the woman asked.

Amy beamed at the question. “Getting closer by the day. We’re kinda roommates.”

“Where does a gal even find a mechanical roommate?”

“It’s a long story,” Amy chuckled. “Hey, do you think you could point me in the direction of the wisest tarot reader here? I kinda need some advice…”

“Wisest? Well…” she raised her chin toward the line of tents. “Check that light purple one. I think you’ll find what you need there,” the woman winked.

They chatted for a while longer and Amy thanked her, promising to come back later in the day to take another look at her supplies. She spotted Metal at the other side of the clearing, the gaggle of little girls cheering as he extended an arm to hang a floral garland far higher into the tree than anyone expected to see one. She approached them with a bemused expression. “I don’t think it has to go that high…”

Metal made a sarcastic head-bobbing motion before bringing the string of flowers down to a reasonable height. The bluebell stem was now tied around his wrist, secured with a daisy the girls must have wrapped around it to form a chain. He reeled his arm back in and tapped a finger against his opposite wrist.

“Right,” Amy turned to the girls. “Metal has to get going. Why don’t I help you with the rest?”

The kids groaned with lament as they said good-bye to their new friend. Metal waved back at them as he backed a safe distance away from everyone. He looked to Amy last, who’s cheerful face seemed to do more to brighten the space than any amount of light and decor they could place around the clearing. It was… uplifting? As he took off, many of the guests made bewildered noises and gestured to him happily, impressed by the sight. Very different from his last encounter. A relief, to say the least.

Amy kept true to her word and helped hang up the few garlands that were left before excusing herself. The shopping and conversations were enjoyable, but the main reason she’d come for the first time was for guidance. She nervously approached the small, lilac-tinted tent with a deep breath. A small bell hung outside the entrance. She pulled on it and as it tolled, a motherly voice beckoned her to enter from within.

“Welcome, dear! Come in.”

The inside of the tent was much brighter than Amy expected- the interior was white, with sheer curtains lining the walls and a faux fur rug topped with a low table. An elderly woman sat on the floor with crossed legs, facing the entrance. “Don’t be shy,” she encouraged. “Please, sit.”

Amy’s nerves let up a little when she entered the friendly atmosphere. She knelt across from the woman and introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Amy. I heard you’re the best around here with tarot.”

The woman bellowed with laughter. “I don’t know about the best- probably oldest!”

A smile spread across Amy’s face as she became more comfortable. “Well, I heard you’re very wise.”

“You could say that,” the woman beamed. “But you’re not here for a reading, are you?”

“Well, not exactly.”

“You’re gifted, yes?”

Amy’s brow curled apologetically. “I don’t think so...”

“Nonsense, I can sense it on you. How long have you been reading?”

She was taken aback at this. Amy had never really considered herself gifted in fortune-telling- she just interpreted what the cards told her. “I started almost ten years ago, but I was just eight. Actually, that’s what I wanted to ask you about-”

“Show me your deck.”

“O-okay” Amy pulled the box of cards from her satchel and handed them to the woman. Rather than take them, she held up a palm and pointed to the table in front of them. Amy placed the box atop it. “This is actually-”

“Your very first deck! How wonderful that you’ve kept it.”

“That’s right!” The excitement in Amy’s voice grew. “You’re so knowledgeable- oh, I don’t think I’ve gotten your name?”

The woman placed her hands on her knees and raised her chin confidently. “Call me Madame.”

-----

The two spent the next hour going over the hand Amy had drawn almost a decade earlier. She recounted her adventure on Little Planet to Madame, pointing out how each of the cards made sense to her at the time, but now she was second-guessing her interpretation. Amy’s confidence waned the more she spoke about the last several years spent with Sonic- constantly chasing after him, the frequent rejection, and how her crush was even waning as it approached its 10-year mark. She left out any details about her encounter with Metal for the sake of time, but thoroughly went over every detail she thought relevant. “We’ve actually become really good friends over the years, and I know he cares about me a lot, but…”

“He hasn’t reciprocated your affection,” Madame concluded. Her kettle suddenly whispered from atop a small camp stove rigged behind her. She poured the hot water over a teapot full of green tea leaves.

“Right…” Amy sighed.

Madame rubbed her chin pensively as she waited for the tea to brew. “This is a bit of an unusual spread for such a young girl, but much of it is accurate.” Amy had recreated the spread on the table, and Madame studied it intensely as she thought. “Certainly the Ace of Wands and Tower manifested- you met someone on this adventure, and it was more than a bit chaotic as you’ve explained it. And the reversed Hierophant seems to describe this man well enough. And as for the Nine of Wands- well, I suppose asking the cards whether embarking on a task is ‘worth it’ can be tricky- it told you there would be trials, but hints to success, of which you haven’t seemed to achieve yet. Now, I am wondering about this…” She placed a bony finger on The Moon. “Bit of a wild card, if you’ll pardon the expression,” she grinned. “You asked the cards what the relationship would be like, correct?”

“That’s right- I took this to mean that there would be a lot of surprises- and there have been! We’ve gone on a lot of adventures together, you could say.”

“And he hasn’t been dishonest with you?”

“Trust me, he’s been plenty honest,” she replied. “He’s not one for ambiguity.”

“I see. Well…” Madame poured Amy a cup of green tea and slid it to her. “The Moon is very mysterious. It can represent surprises and unexpected events, but it could also manifest as a sort of a coping mechanism. It can represent fear- such as the fear of being rejected- and the illusion you use to hide it; A little lie you tell yourself to protect your feelings. Now, you’ve spent a lot of time on the notion that if you hold out, a relationship will manifest. Is that correct?”

Definitely not what Amy was hoping to hear. “I guess so,” she replied unhappily.

Madame nodded. “I have a theory, but I’d like to see if the cards agree. Did you pull one this morning?”

Amy took the cup in her hands nervously and looked down at her reflection in the murky tea. She hadn’t- the morning’s excitement and subsequent exhaustion had kept her from the daily ritual. “No, something came up…”

“That’s alright. Why don’t you do one now?” Madame pushed the deck back into a neat stack and sat back.

“Okay,” Amy nodded, starting the ritual. Madame watched her prepare and shuffle the deck with intrigue. Amy’s connection to her cards couldn’t be denied- she knew them like she knew herself. Resting her hand atop the stack, she inhaled and exhaled deliberately before turning over the top card. The Seven Of Swords sat reversed before her.

Madame smirked at its sight. “I thought so.” Amy groaned to herself softly. The woman was right- the card told a story of honesty, confession, and regret. “Now that I have backup, my dear, I would like to offer some advice- but I believe you should keep an open mind.”

Amy looked bewildered as she swirled her tea around, unable to think of what else to say. This was what she had come for- of course she should be open-minded! She just wasn’t sure if she was ready to hear whatever this wise woman had to say. With a reluctant nod, Amy took a sip of tea and listened attentively.

“This man, he knows how you feel about him, but he hasn’t shown the same interest. It could be that he’s just shy about those things, but…” the woman softened her tone as she leaned in closer. “Have you ever asked him directly?”

Reluctantly, Amy thought about the question. Abundantly clear though her affections were, she couldn’t recall actually asking Sonic if he was interested in her- she admittedly felt like that should be his role. It was possible that he just wasn’t the best at expressing those emotions, but that was probably all the more reason to be direct. “No, I haven’t,” she said finally.

“I believe you need to face this fear of rejection head-on. If I were you, I would ask him explicitly how he feels.”

Amy sighed. And maybe confirm those fears. “It’s just been so long, I never know when the right time is to get serious, you know? I mean, I’m seeing him tomorrow, but-”

“Then there’s no time like the present,” the old woman smiled wisely.

“No time like the present,” Amy repeated. She nodded anxiously, knowing it was time.

“Also… I am sensing there is perhaps something else you need to get off your conscience. Am I wrong?”

It annoyed Amy how accurate the assessment was- she was beginning to see why her friends avoided her readings.

She had every intention of speaking to Metal that morning about a particularly sore memory when Sonic interrupted them. In truth, she was relieved to get out of the situation, feeling ashamed at her own past actions when she remembered; But it was clear she wasn’t getting out of revealing it. “Yeah… I need to, uh, clear the air with a friend.”

“You had a fight?”

“Sort of. It was years ago, and-”

“And?” Madame leaned in, gesturing to Amy encouragingly.

“And… There’s no time like the present,” Amy exhaled.

“I think you know what you have to do then.”

The disheartened girl couldn’t seem to get another word out, so Madame continued gently. “You are very gifted in the divine arts. To learn so much about your future at such a young age? Incredible! But reading for yourself can be… near-sighted. Just remember to think outside the box with your interpretations. And don’t keep putting off important conversations! Your time is as valuable as anyone’s.”

There was much for Amy to process. She sat hunched over the table, eyes fixed on her deck as she thought about Madame’s analysis. Amy wanted to protest, to say that the woman was overstepping and to cast doubt over her qualifications, but there was simply nothing to deny. She placed her teacup down and stood from the soft rug.

“Thanks for the kind words, and for your wisdom.” Picking up her cards, she started toward the tent entrance. “I should really get back out there. What do I owe you?”

Madame nodded with a soft hum. “Hm, of course, dear. It was just one card- the conversation was payment enough. Please enjoy yourself. You know where to find me.”

Amy thanked her sincerely and pushed herself through the parted tent opening. She squinted in the afternoon light. A hundred thoughts raced through her mind as she then paced around the gathering site aimlessly. Am I really that scared of rejection? she asked herself. Amy feared she already knew what Sonic’s answer would be, but resolved to find out for good as soon as she had the opportunity. As for Metal, it wasn’t fair to leave him hanging regarding his own memory -she would have to finish what she’d started that morning.

Amy marched several times around the perimeter of the clearing in deep thought until the rumbling in her stomach snatched her from her daze. She hadn’t eaten in far too long. Taking a look around, there were a good number of lunch options, and she really should enjoy the festival while she could. Anything to distract from her vexation.

With that goal in mind, Amy spent the rest of the afternoon partaking in whatever activities she could. She sampled a few offerings from several lunch stands, sat in on a meditation session, and even joined a group of young women discussing several supernatural topics. By the time evening began to fall, Amy had all but forgotten her session with Madame. She genuinely enjoyed herself there.

Amy finished her shopping, noticing that many of the vendors were closing as sunset approached. Just as she’d welcomed the day, most of the guests sat quietly, observing as the sky changed from pale blues to bright, fiery shades, and finally darkened to a deep navy as night fell. This was about the time Metal had agreed to pick her up, so she made sure to be ready to go once he arrived. To her delight, however, it appeared that the festivities were just beginning.

A bonfire was lit in the center of the clearing as guests gathered around and arranged mats and blankets for guests to rest on. A band seemed to form out of nowhere and began to play festive tunes while several people formed a chain around the bonfire, skipping around it melodically. Then the chain broke and many more joined in on the dancing as others cheered and sang from the mats on the ground. Amy was in awe- It was her first time witnessing such a thing in person. She was just contemplating whether she should join in when she heard Metal’s engine overhead.

She swung her arm up at him merrily for a moment before the sight of Metal jerked her back to reality. A knot formed in Amy’s stomach as she remembered her conversation with the old woman, but she did her best to appear normal as her friend landed. “Hey- good to see you.”

Metal held up a palm in greeting. “Did it go okay?” Amy asked him. He responded by bringing a sharp index finger to his forehead. She hadn’t noticed at first, but the paint job on his forehead was now spotless. “You look great, Metal. I’m happy for you.” Amy clasped her hands in front of her demurely. Normally, she would be compelled to take his hand in hers or go in for a hug, but Amy felt self-conscious about it now. The old woman’s words rang in her head when she looked at Metal; she was embarrassed to have kept him wondering about it all day.

Unready and desperate for a buffer, Amy invited him to join her in watching the festivities a bit closer, already inching herself in that direction. “Why don’t we hang out for a little before we go home?”

It was certainly new to Metal, if a bit unusual. He followed her along, surprised she wasn’t more tired after such a long day. Her heart rate seemed slightly… elevated? But she was probably just excited about the festival.

Amy sat on a free mat closer to the fire. It was pleasantly warm at that distance, combating the cool night air. She rubbed at her arm, unsure if the chill she felt was due to the weather or her nerves. Metal joined her soon after, stretching out his legs as he sat next to her. Staring starkly ahead, Amy tried to focus on the fire and music in vain. But all that ran through her head was the search for a tactful way with which she could bring up the subject again. She stared silently into the flames. Her vision was fuzzy.

The loud music and crowd of dancers were new to Metal. He doubted he’d ever been close to this type of atmosphere even before he lost his memory, and it was a bit overwhelming seeing everything that took place at once. Even as large groups danced together, others twirled around in pairs, and still more people chatted and laughed as they observed. A young man was weaving between groups big and small, and Metal saw him taking a close look at the palm of a woman’s hand. And there he and Amy were, sitting quietly on a mat, observing. It was strange to him that Amy was so hushed when he fully expected to hear all about what was happening around them. He nudged her on the shoulder with his elbow and she practically jumped.

“Ah- you startled me! Sorry!” the flustered girl fidgeted with the front of her shawl, avoiding eye contact. This shouldn’t be so hard...

Metal was somewhat startled himself. It was worrisome to see Amy so jumpy; she hadn’t even acted that way when she was nervous about the team meeting. Perhaps the loud atmosphere was making her skittish? The young man Metal had seen earlier came up behind them just then, offering Amy a hand.

“Would you like to dance, miss?” he inquired politely. Turning to Metal, he continued. “I hope you don’t mind if I borrow her for a bit.” Metal looked at him with some skepticism. He wasn’t sure what the man had been doing when he was making rounds, but he didn’t seem to be asking anyone else to dance.

“Uh, I’m not much of a dancer,” Amy lied. In truth, she was just too uneasy to enjoy it.

“The moves are simple,” he insisted.

She shook her head. “I’m okay…”

With a coy smile, the young man squatted next to her. “How about a palm reading, then? You look like something is vexing you.”

Amy clicked her tongue incredulously. She didn’t want to be rude, but what a presumptuous thing to say- even if it happened to be true. “No, thank you. I prefer the cards.”

“Ah, a tarot reader. Well, come find me if you change your mind,” he said as he stood up. Before long, he had moved on to solicit another girl.

“Pft. Palm reading…” Amy hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “I mean, not that I’m judging.” She was absolutely judging.

Metal tilted his head with a confused look. “Oh, it’s just another form of divination. I don’t really get it- not like the lines on your palms change at all. What’s there to read?” Metal found the uncharacteristically snarky response amusing. He held out his own palm to her assertively. “You want me to give you a palm reading?” she chortled. “Okay…”

Hesitantly, Amy took Metal’s hand in one of hers, observing the uniform grooves that made up the interconnected plates in his hands. “Well, you have quite the lifeline,” she smirked, using her finger to trace where the base of his thumb was attached to the palm. “It means you’re going to live a long, long life. Maybe forever,” she shrugged playfully. Metal made a long tone that made him sound interested. It made Amy laugh a bit as she continued the ruse. “I guess that would make this your heart line- ah-” An arbitrary thought introduced in her mind. Robots don’t have hearts, how would he have a heart line? She scoffed aloud softly. They don’t have any palm lines! Don’t be stupid, she reasoned with herself. Metal leaned his head closer to hers inquisitively and she continued, more timidly. “A-also long… I don’t really know what that means, though, sorry.” She let his hand slip out of her palm gently and went back to avoiding eye contact.

It wasn’t what he’d become used to with her. Metal scooted closer and nudged her softly with his shoulder. She could rest her head if she was tired, he thought, but he didn’t get an immediate response out of her.

It’s time. Amy looked to him hesitantly. “Do you want to head home? I think we should talk.”

The words made Metal nervous. He had an idea of what was coming next. Agreeing, he offered a hand getting up. She pretended not to see it and rose on her own.

Once they’d gone past most of the celebrating people and reached the edge of the clearing, he offered her a hand once more. Amy looked to it, wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “Actually, do you mind if we walk?” Amy wasn’t confident she would be able to convince herself to speak again if she had to wait until they got home. She flexed her feet, still sore from that morning.

The two continued through the forest path. Amy kept looking straight ahead as she eventually began. “I’m sure you remember I started talking about it this morning- how you went on your own and all.” She glanced at him just momentarily. “Well, it wasn’t anything like now. Um…” It took her a moment to form the words. “So… A few years ago, you lured a bunch of us into a huge battle. We thought Eggman was stringing us along, but when we got to you, we found out that you’d imprisoned him and taken over his whole deal. Sonic, Tails, Knuckles- even Cream and some others came along. So much happened in three days…” Amy went on to recount some of the events that lead up to their encounter, not wanting to leave anything out.

Somehow, the knowledge that he’d endangered Cream was sickening to Metal. He already knew about fighting the others, but she must have been so young then; even younger than Amy was when he met her. It felt heinous.

Amy had reached the end of the adventure- she took a few breaths before mustering the courage to recall their battle. “When we finally got there, you looked nothing like yourself. Eggman didn’t even know how you’d transformed. I remember you could speak- I mean, you mostly threatened us... I thought you were all talk, honestly, until…” She stopped in her tracks. It was surprisingly painful to remember, especially now. Amy couldn’t believe she was speaking to the same being who had threatened the lives of everyone she cared about all at once. She looked up to find Metal’s crimson eyes staring through her. “I can stop, if you want.” It was more of a hope that he’d want her to.

There was feeling conflicted, and then there was this. Metal hadn’t anticipated Amy would be this uncomfortable, which in turn made him feel the same. But he needed to know. He approached her slowly, reaching out to take her hand in his, his normally whispering engine now beginning to hiss. She tightened her fingers around his and went on reluctantly.

“Okay… So, you kept changing. You turned into this huge... monster... you went on a total rampage.” Amy instantly regretted her choice of words, but there was no going back. “If we hadn’t all been there to stop you, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

Monster. It was hurtful to hear her describe him that way- but if the story was true, he couldn’t blame her. Metal could feel his body reacting inhospitably, his thoughts scrambling. He tried to take his hand away but Amy stopped him, tightening her grip.

“Wait, Metal- I want you to know that I don’t blame you. You were just... unrecognizable, filled with so much rage. I know that wasn’t really you, and I don’t want that to happen to you again. I feel so guilty... I wish I’d helped you back then instead of chasing after Sonic like always...”

She felt guilty? What a cruel joke. He remembered now; The intense, bitter hatred that drove him to transform. He thought about Sonic, how he longed to destroy him, and the objective Metal had self-imposed to eliminate his copy- but, wasn’t Metal the copy? Did Amy get the details of their meeting right? He pulled away from her harshly, bringing his hands up to his forehead in panicked confusion. A sharp ring broke out in his head. It must have been what a headache felt like.

“Metal-” Amy gasped. He looked like he was in pain- something she didn’t think was possible. “Did you remember?” He nodded, still cradling his head in his hands.

Pure static rushed through Metal’s circuitry. It wasn’t just the memory of his malformed plan that came back to him, but his vicious motivation as well. Malice blazed in him when he pictured his defeat at Sonic’s hands. The unwavering hostility was like a curse- how was it possible that he was still the same being that Amy described so tenderly just days earlier? The existential guilt that accumulated in the dark corners of his mind was suddenly unrelenting, weighing on him as it increased tenfold. And then he remembered another defeat from his past. And another. And the looking anger from the aftermath of each. He became buried in an avalanche of memories.

His system overwhelmed, Metal sensed himself about to shut down,his body screeching as every fan struggled to spin fast enough; And knowing he’d been made to withstand worse, he couldn’t have felt more pathetic.

Amy’s hands clasped around his face compassionately.

“Metal,” she pleaded. He struggled to lift his view, but once there, he stared at her for far too long. Amy held firm, locking her gentle eyes with his fiery ones as fans and engines eased steadily. Slowly, Metal loosened his hands away from his head, and the corners of Amy’s mouth raised assuredly. “You’ll be okay,” she affirmed, her hands moving from Metal’s face to behind his back, pressing her body to his. He was warm. “I’m sorry... if that memory is painful.”

It felt selfish, but his body demanded her comfort. Metal immediately returned Amy’s embrace, holding her firmly to him and clutching the back of her hair eagerly. Painful. What a devastating thing to feel in a body that shouldn’t have the ability. But why should it have been? He wasn’t the one who’s life had been threatened- and yet he was the one being consoled.

His system was returning to its usual state, but the past still echoed in Metal’s mind noisily. As he remembered the details of that day, Amy’s fierce countenance in the heat of battle appeared before him. Metal hadn’t felt anything for her then- she’d been just another hurdle in his scheme, someone he’d have no qualms with striking down if she got in his way. And he’d tried to. It felt impossible that he didn’t remember the compassion she’d shown him then, when it weighed so heavily on him now. But he couldn’t forget her again; he wouldn’t allow himself to. It was more than a promise, it was an objective to impose on his every action from that moment on. Metal rested his head on hers warily, combing his fingers gently through the locks at the back of Amy’s head. She closed her eyes with a gentle humming sigh at the pleasant sensation.

“Let’s go home…” Amy spoke softly and serenely. She felt him nod, his cheek nuzzling the crown of her head. She began to put some distance between them, but didn’t make it far as Metal hoisted her up in his grip. “Oh, I meant we should walk…” He returned with a look as if to ask if she was joking. “Come on, I feel bad that you carry me everywhere; it’s not that far.”

The hike would take close to an hour from where they were. Metal denied her request with a shake of his head.

“Why not?” He simply glanced at her blistered feet momentarily, suggesting that she should stay off them. “Hmph- I’m fine... Put me down.” Amy pouted, her cheeks on the verge of glowing.

Stubborn, he remembered. Metal hiked her up higher against his chest, strengthening his hold around her. She was practically pinned to him now. Rather than continue to protest, Amy crossed her arms in front of her and relented. “Fine… I guess it’ll be faster…” It was strange- she always assumed that being held by those steely arms would be cold or unpleasant, but Amy had grown to find it comforting- warm, even- and that was what felt wrong about it to her. It felt… inappropriate, she thought.

Unbeknownst to her, Metal was similarly at odds with the behavior. He could hardly admit to himself how pleasurable he found the task of carrying her home, let alone to Amy. Capricious, perhaps, and he wasn’t sure if it was so appropriate, either; But holding Amy brought Metal such solace that he chose to ignore it, convincing himself that he only squeezed her against him for her sake. The closer the better.

Amy’s simple “Thank you” were the only words exchanged between them on their way home. Metal tried not to let his thoughts wander too much so that he did not become overwhelmed again. He knew he couldn't hold it back for long with all the information pouring into his memory at once.

It suddenly became difficult to think of Sonic without becoming enraged. Though Sonic's mere presence irritated him, Metal thought he was over the intense loathing from the first time he encountered Sonic after losing his memory. But it was all too logical now, and so he struggled to ignore it. The memory of his meeting with Amy that seemed so clear just yesterday was also jumbled- he remembered their conversation and his defeat, but something about his impression of Sonic was… off. Metal was beginning to gain an understanding that he was superior to his rival, so how could it be that he was created in Sonic’s image and not the other way around? And there was Amy- supposedly one of Sonic’s best friends, but it often appeared to Metal that he didn’t treat her as such. Metal was undoubtedly a better companion to her- Sonic himself suggested that Amy and Metal “keep looking out for each other”- perhaps Sonic was jealous.

Before he could fixate too much on his rival, Metal came up on the valley and slowed his descent. He glanced down at Amy, comfortably resting in his arms with heavy eyes. He wasn’t ignorant- he knew the reason she pursued Sonic. It must have been the same reason Metal couldn’t bring himself to leave Amy’s side and why he found her presence so soothing; friendship didn’t exactly describe it. He was reminded of the second film they’d watched last night; the warm and compassionate manner in which the lovers handled one another. Like the kind way Amy spoke to and about Metal, or how he caressed her tightly when they traveled together. He wasn’t sure how he processed the conclusion, if it was even possible, but… he loved her.

But it stood to reason, then, that if she could think of Sonic that way with all the deficiencies in the way he treated her, that Amy could feel that way about Metal, too. He wondered if their time spent together now would make up for how he’d wronged her in the past. He loved her; he wanted to tell her.

Metal didn’t quite land, instead reaching close to the ground and propelling himself forward, just hovering off the ground. Amy noticed the change. “Oh, I haven’t seen you do this, since…”

Since before he’d lost his memory, probably. He didn’t know why he moved that way either, but something about it clicked. Almost as if it was natural. Walking never really felt innate to him, he simply mimicked what Amy and Tails did when they’d “met.” This just made more sense to him now.

He put Amy down slowly, bending forward to give her the opportunity to stand on her own gradually. She didn’t expect her feet to throb when placing them back on the ground after a rest, so she hobbled to the couch to kick the lousy sandals off. With a sigh of relief, she sunk back into the cushion. Metal took his place on the sofa next to her.

“Thanks for bringing me home… my feet really were killing me,” she admitted sheepishly. “Probably should’ve chosen better shoes, but they looked cute, so... you know.”

Metal was barely listening to her words, trying instead to decide how to make his confession. He feared it was too impulsive, calculating all the possible ways in which she could react. He barely understood it himself. He felt his body tense again at the thought of confessing.

“I mean it,” she turned to him, reaching out to place her hand on his. “Thanks for everything today. It’s weird, but… I think we’re starting to become best friends. Don’t tell Cream,” she giggled and gave his hand a small squeeze in her customary way. “Metal, even though you’ve done hurtful things in the past, you need to know that I forgive you. I hope you can forgive yourself, too.”

Forgiveness. That was one thing he hadn’t begun to process. He assumed the guilt would just continue to well inside him and that pushing it to the depths of his memory would be enough. But hearing her say that she forgave him made his shoulders feel just a bit lighter. He lowered his eyes to view her hand atop his.

Amy did the same, her lashes curling down toward her cheeks. “I’m still here for you if you need me.” Though her shame was fading, Amy regretted the unsympathetic attitude she’d taken toward Metal after that battle. She thought about the vulnerable, insecure state he must have been in and how things could be different if she’d taken the care back then that she did now. Seeing how docile, how warm, how normal he could be gave her hope. It was clear now that he wasn’t so one-sided.

Metal sensed her calm heartbeat, her relaxed breathing. He made sure to record her reassuring words and the mannerisms he found so enchanting, the added memories compelling him toward the new objective he’d created. He still had work to do in understanding his past and making decisions for his future, but he knew he wanted to make room for Amy in that future somehow. He loved her, but it wasn’t the time. Enjoying her friendship was enough.

----

Somewhere in a dimly lit room, a map appeared on a wall-sized monitor behind a man’s broad shadow. The speaker upon his desk chimed and a robotic voice came through with a message.

“Metal Sonic- active. Initiating systems.”

A small dot began to blink on the map and the man swiveled in his chair to face it, grinning.

“Finally,” he responded sharply. “Make the announcement.”

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Wow that only took uhhhhh 19 months? ksjcjhsUmmm let’s just say I had a very complicated 2021. My living situation became pretty weird and I started a different role at work that came with a lot of new responsibility. I was even published professionally in an industry mag so I can't say I haven’t been writing I guess lolI also happen to be in the process of moving which coincided with like the first vacation I’ve taken with my family since. ever? I leave in a week and I have to be moved out a few days after getting back but you know it’s fine i’m fine hahaAnyway I appreciate everyone’s kind comments over the past few months! But I’m overall in a good state (knock on wood), so I’m trying my best to keep updating after I’m back and settled in my new place. Which is to say, not for another two months at least (sorry!)Thanks again to whoever is still reading. Besos ♥ ~

#metamy #unfamiliar #amy rose #sth #i'm back babeyyyyy #metal sonic x amy rose #ch. 13 #metal sonic

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earliebirb · 3 years

Text

i’ll save you a seat

steve/tony, established relationship, canon divergence, 1673 words

(inspired by this deleted scene from the avengers [2012])

“Waiting on the big guy?”

“Ma’am?” Steve looks up from his sketchbook, eyes squinting against the sunlight.

He meets the gaze of one of the waitresses working at the café. Her long blond hair flows down to her chest and she is dressed in the café’s signature uniform: pastel orange blouse, black skirt, and a white half apron tied around her waist.

“Iron Man,” the waitress clarifies, lips quirked up in a knowing smile. “A lot of people eat here just to see him fly by.”

“Right,” Steve says, lips twitching at their inside joke. He opens his mouth to say something else, but a familiar silhouette in the distance catches his eye and breaks his train of thought. “Uh, actually…”

He nods at the sky. The waitress follows his gaze.

The object grows larger, approaching at a high speed. It morphs into a blur of red and gold that streaks across the blue sky right above them, sending a gust of wind that ruffles the waitress’ blond locks. The figure lands a short distance away from the café with a distinct metallic thunk — the sound of gold-titanium alloy hitting concrete.

All around him, people begin to whisper among themselves with excitement, some even taking out their phones to document the spectacle. Although Steve can’t really say he enjoys the attention, warmth still blooms in his chest as he observes the approaching figure. He finds himself hiding an involuntary grin behind his hand.

“Always a dramatic entrance, huh?” The waitress chuckles.

“You know it.” Steve sighs with fond exasperation. All eyes are on Tony as he walks toward the outdoor area of the café, the nanotech suit peeling away from his body. The excited murmurs and whispers increase in volume.

When Tony finally arrives at the table, he bends down to plant a kiss on Steve’s cheek. “Good morning, beloved.”

“Mr. Stark-Rogers,” the kind waitress greets with a smile. “The usual?”

“Please, Beth. I told you to call me Tony.” Tony reaches up to slide his sunglasses a few inches down the bridge of his nose, giving her a disapproving look that makes her chuckle. “And yes, please. Thank you.”

“Table’s yours as long as you like,” she says before disappearing into the indoor part of the café to relay the order. Steve knows she means it, too. She’ll make sure of it, just like she always has for the past few years.

The café had been Steve’s favorite café, at first. He visited the place often, especially during his first few weeks in the twenty-first century. He developed a fondness for their sesame seed bagels and the lovely view of Stark Tower from his favorite outdoor table, although the latter is a fact Steve would never admit to Tony even on pain of death.

However, the café quickly became Steve and Tony’s favorite café when their reluctant camaraderie bloomed into friendship all those years ago. Even before they started dating, Steve and Tony already established a weekly ritual of having brunch at the café whenever their schedules aligned.

Tony did eventually admit to Steve that he found the café’s coffee to be subpar. He did, however, insist that the café was his favorite, albeit for reasons different from Steve’s. Not for the bagels, not for the exceptional view of Stark Tower, and definitely not for the coffee, but because the café was a place full of memories. His memories of the two of them, his memories of Steve:

“That café was where I first made you laugh. Like, really laugh. I’d seen you smile or chuckle before, but that kind of full-body laughter? That was a first. And I remember thinking that… I really, really liked the way you laughed.”

It has been seven years since Steve first sat at this very table and sketched the figure of Stark Tower looming before him. Beth is still working at the café, having made her way through the ranks. Now a co-owner of the café, she has developed a friendship of sorts with Steve and Tony — both of whom she claims to be her favorite regulars. Tony likes to joke about how she probably says that to all of her regulars, something Beth always denies vehemently.

Steve turns his attention back to Tony, who has taken off and folded his sunglasses, letting them hang from the collar of his shirt.

“Would it kill you to take the elevator and walk?”

“It’s not like I do this every single time. Besides, why take the elevator when you have a flying suit? That’s just ineffective.” Tony makes a face as he pulls his chair out.

“‘S good exercise.”

“I exercise plenty.” Tony sits down on the chair across from him, scooting closer to the table. Under the table, his ankle brushes Steve’s. “Besides, we just engaged in a vigorous workout session this morning.” Tony bites his lower lip, giving Steve a lascivious wink.

“Tony,” Steve reprimands, but finds himself unable to say anything further, not when the back of his neck is heating up at the memory of what they were up to just a few hours ago. While Steve immediately showered afterward and headed straight to the café, Tony decided he wanted to sleep for a few more hours, promising to join Steve later.

Tony grins before leaning forward on his elbows to peer at Steve’s sketch.

“Which lucky building are you sketching today, honeybunch?”

He squints and frowns when instead of a building he finds a rough and nondescript sketch of a person’s face.

It could be anyone to the untrained eye, but Steve’s pen strokes are sure and confident, having rendered the same jawline countless of times.

Every single time, Tony’s figure never fails to fascinate him. Always so beautiful from every angle, in every light. Steve knows it well enough by now to be able to sketch him simply from an image in his mind’s eye.

Still, nothing beats the real thing. Steve takes in the sweep of Tony’s dark lashes and his coffee brown eyes as he appraises the drawing.

“It’s not a building,” Steve says instead.

Tony hums noncommittally, tilting his head at the sketch and giving it one last look before leaning back in his seat. “How was your morning run?”

“Uneventful.”

“Really?” Tony says distractedly, his attention on Beth who is once again approaching their table with his cup of coffee, black as midnight.

Tony engages in more small talk with Beth as she sets the cup and saucer on the table, asking after her husband and kids. There is an easy and carefree smile on his face, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes.

All the while, his fingers are fiddling with two sugar packets Steve knows he will only use one of. He is always buzzing with energy, parts of him always in a state of perpetual motion, finding it near impossible to stay still.

Steve also knows that he won’t finish the coffee because it wasn’t made by Steve or himself.

These little idiosyncrasies are details that make up Tony, the little quirks that only Steve knows.

The little things that make you mine, Steve thinks privately. He feels something inside him softening at the thought.

“Sorry, honey,” Tony says when Beth eventually leaves to take another table’s orders, his smile soft and affectionate. “You were saying? Running was uneventful?”

“Yeah,” Steve says quietly, “nothing really interesting.” He admires the way sunlight turns the tips of Tony’s dark hair into a lighter shade of brown. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re still the highlight of my morning.”

Tony huffs, rolling his eyes, but his lips curve up into a pleased smile and his brown eyes are warm with affection as he meets Steve’s gaze. He reaches for Steve’s hand on the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. The band of vibranium around his husband’s ring finger gleams in the late morning sunlight.

“I better be, after waking you up with one hell of a—”

“Tony!” Steve exclaims, knocking his ankle against Tony’s in warning. “Stop it.”

“What? It’s the truth! You really did enjoy it when I—”

“There are children around,” Steve hisses, casting a furtive glance at a nearby table occupied by a family of four.

Tony laughs softly, his shoulders shaking with it. Still holding his gaze, he brings Steve’s hand to his lips, pressing two feather-light kisses to the back of his hand. He continues holding Steve’s hand against his mouth, and when he speaks Steve feels his lips and the bristles of his goatee brushing his skin.

“Sorry, baby, I can’t help it.” Tony hides a smile against Steve’s knuckles. “You’re just so pretty when you blush.”

Steve looks down, avoiding Tony’s eyes in favor of staring at the cookie crumbs next to his half-full cup of coffee that has long since gone cold. His cheeks are still burning, and Tony’s words are not helping.

“See?” Tony says, before planting a kiss to his knuckles. “So pretty.”

Steve shuts his eyes with a defeated sigh. “Please just drink your coffee.”

Tony chuckles again but Steve hears the clink of ceramic, a cup being lifted from its saucer. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

He only allows himself to open his eyes when Tony gets distracted by some pigeons, immediately launching into a spiel about the one time he was attacked by a pigeon who was apparently really determined to steal his sandwich.

Steve nods along dutifully, reacting at appropriate times throughout the story, but all he can think of is that sitting there, at a café’s outdoor table on Park Avenue on a bright Sunday morning, his husband sat in front of him talking a mile a minute, is that there is nowhere else he’d rather be.

His gaze falls down to where Tony’s hand is still holding his, even when his other hand is gesturing animatedly as he tells his story.

Yes. Steve thinks, smiling helplessly at the twinkle in Tony’s eyes — the one that appears whenever he gets excited. I’m home.

#stevetony #stevetony fic #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #steve/tony #steve x tony #mine #earl wrote something

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justhockeythings-blog1 · 3 years

Text

With You

A/N: So Two in one week huh? I wrote this a lot faster than I thought I would! Also I decided to make my own collage to go with this one! I really really like this one, so I hope you guys do! Feedback is always appreciated!

Request: “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” with Andrei Svechnikov

This was not the end to the season that anyone wanted. You felt your shoulders drop, along with your stomach. Your heart on the other hand had shattered into a million pieces, seeing Andrei’s heartbroken and frustrated face blasted across the television. You sat alone, in your shared apartment, wearing the same Svechnikov jersey that he had cheesily gifted you on your first birthday together. You made it a tradition to wear it every game you watched at home, making sure to send Andrei a picture. It had become as much a part of his pre-game ritual as having Martinook scream in his face. You hadn’t expected this game to be the last time you got to engage in your self made ritual,

You could feel the tears brimming your eyes, if not from the fact that you had so much hope for the boys to move on, for the sad faces of all your friends and your boyfriend as they shook hands with Tampa Bay. You waited until the very last second where the Canes players could no longer be seen before you shut off your TV, sitting in silence. You didn’t bother holding the tears in as you let a few slip, this was your time to be sad about it because the second that Andrei called you, you had to pull it together. You needed to be strong for him.

You knew your boyfriend well, you had seen him at the highs of the wins and the lows of the losses. He was going to take this personal, he had been battling himself all year. Saying how he hadn’t been having a good season, how he needed to improve, staying late after games to put in the extra time. You constantly had to remind him to take time for himself, to not be so hard on himself. There were countless times that you would have to force him to relax, letting his body rest, knowing that he would return to a hard training regime at the next practice. This wasn’t just any old loss though, this was a Stanley Cup elimination game loss. You were going to have to pull out all the stops to make this one feel better and you had a limited amount of time. You assumed that Andrei would be going back home at some point in the off season, neither of you had really talked about it recently. Then again, neither of you had planned on a playoff elimination.

You wiped the last few tears off your cheeks and stood up, collecting the snacks you had laid out, setting them in the kitchen before you went to change. After you came back out, you decided you needed to do something to pass the time until Andrei called, and you began busying yourself with cleaning. It was a habit that you had when you were nervous, you picked something to do and you fixated on it, usually until Andrei stepped in to stop you. It would be no different tonight, the shrill ring of your phone pulling you out of your trance. You glanced around you, seeing the kitchen of the apartment spotless before you rushed to the living room to snatch your phone off the coffee table where you left it.

“Hey.” You breathed out, hearing a slight chuckle from the other end.

“Were you running?” He asked, knowing that it was far too late for that. You, on the other hand, knew that he was avoiding the inevitable but you could hear the sadness in his voice.

“From the kitchen, didn’t want to miss your call.” You explained, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. This was the first sign that he wasn’t going to let on how upset he was in the moment, he had called you rather than facetime you. “How are you doing?”

You knew it was a stupid question but you had to ask. If you didn’t make the first move then odds were he wouldn’t bring it up and judging by the sigh that came from the other end, he was hoping that you wouldn’t.

“You gotta talk about it Andrei…” You encouraged gently, settling back on the couch and tugging a blanket over your legs. “Before you get on the plane.”

“It’s hard.” He began and you hummed, another gentle encouragement that you were listening. “We really thought we could do it. You know? We had them, we outplayed them every game and it wasn’t enough.”

The frustration was clear in his voice. You had seen the statistics and on paper, the Canes had come out on top, but unfortunately that didn’t translate to the ice.

“I wanted us to go all the way, these guys are my family and nobody deserves the cup more than them, and I couldn’t get them there.” You could hear the defeat in his voice and it was like someone took your heart and threw it on the ground.

“Andrei… You cannot put that pressure on yourself. Hockey is a team sport, you all left it all out there on the ice. You did you best and the weight of this loss does not fall entirely on your shoulders. Please.” You practically pleaded with him before you heard voices in the background.

“I have to go.. We are getting ready to board, I love you. I’ll be home late so don’t stay up okay?”

He hung up after you returned his goodbyes, leaving you once again sitting in the silence of your apartment. This time though, the exhaustion of everything set in and you pulled yourself to go to bed. You left a light on in the hallway so that Andrei didn’t have to stumble around in the darkness, slipping into your bed and quickly falling asleep.

When Andrei got home, well past three AM, he knew that the house would be quiet but it didn’t make it any less suffocating. It felt like silence was the only thing he had heard since the boys departed the locker room, each one caught up in their own heads. A few of the older guys, who had spent a good number of years in the league, did their best to offer some kind of comfort to the younger men on the team but it was clear that in the moment it was half hearted. Everyone had wanted to beat Tampa, everyone had wanted to make it to the end and hoist that cup. It was their year and they had done everything right only to lose to a team who had a goalie like a brick wall.

He set his bag down by the couch quietly, having mastered the technique of coming home quietly after waking you up one too many times. He carefully made his way down the hallway to the bedroom, smiling a little to himself as he saw you curled up in bed, tucked into one of his shirts. The season may not have ended the way he wanted but at least he still had you to come home to.

Slipping into the bed, he was careful not to wake you as he wrapped one arm around you and quickly fell asleep himself, his mind shutting off for the first time since this morning.

When you woke up the next morning it was to the weight of an arm carefully laying across your waist and the sound of gentle breathing beside you. A setting you were very familiar with, but today you couldn’t enjoy it. You had a plan that you needed to get started on before Andrei woke up, which is why you were secretly praying that the late return home would play in your favor.

You glanced back at him, smiling at the peaceful look on his face before you skillfully wiggled your way out of his grasp, pausing on the edge of your bed to make sure he remained asleep. After a few minutes you stood up and grabbed his bag, sneaking out of your room.

First things first was to get his laundry started so you made a beeline to the washer and dryer you guys had, setting the bag down and carefully emptying the clothes, checking all of his pockets to make sure they were empty. There had been a mishap one time of airpods in the washer and you both had quickly learned your lesson.

You felt a small box tucked into one of his pockets, pulling it out and setting it into a small basket with other things you found. You didn’t pay any mind to it as you started the washer, carrying the basket and setting it on the dining room table where he could collect it when he woke up.

Part two of your plan involved slight rearrangement of your living room, a number of blankets and pillows, and a fully charged laptop. After nearly twenty minutes, including a quick peak into the bedroom to make sure that he was indeed still sleeping, you had a blanket fort all made up and ready. Which was the easiest part of the plan, the real trick would be getting Andrei into it.

You moved back to the kitchen, pulling out all of the things you needed to make a real breakfast. Not the coffee and yogurt that you scarfed down on work days. You started the coffee pot, humming to yourself as you carefully dialed Evgeny’s number. It was times like these you were thankful that Andrei had introduced you to his brother and you two had a good standing relationship. You cut Evgeny’s greeting off gently, explaining that you didn’t have much time before Andrei woke up but you needed to know how to make his favorite breakfast.

At some point during your phone call with Evgeny, who thankfully walked you step by step through a homemade breakfast that he and Andrei had grown up on, Andrei made an appearance from the bedroom. He stood back and watched as you worked, hearing his brother’s voice over the speaker.

He smiled to himself, it was no secret to anyone that Evgeny was an important person in his life. When he had first introduced the two of you, he had been a little nervous that Evgeny and you wouldn’t get along. Which would have left him in a very awkward predicament. Seeing you in the kitchen though, clearly taking instructions from his brother over the phone, stirred something inside of him. Whatever he was feeling though quickly screeched to a halt, a small jolt of panic ran through him as he saw the small box on the table, quickly grabbing it and stuffing it into the pocket of his shorts just as you turned around.

“Oh hey! Evgeny, he’s up, I gotta go. Thank you so so so much for all your help! I owe you one!” You hung up with his brother and smiled sheepishly, holding up the plate with your finished work. “Surprise?”

You clearly hadn’t seen the glimpse of panic that crossed his face, quickly replaced by a smile and a look of awe when it registered in his mind what was on the plate. Sure you cooked often, but it now made sense to him why you had called his brother.

“If it’s bad you can blame your brother, but I just… I wanted to do something nice for you, especially since I didn’t stay up for you last night.” You explained, pulling him over to sit at the dining room table and setting the plate down in front of him.

Andrei was speechless, which you had learned was a hard feat to accomplish, as he watched you fill two mugs of coffee, making it the way both of you liked it before coming to sit down beside him. You hadn’t brought up the game yet and he wasn’t sure if you would but in the moment he didn’t care, he couldn’t stop staring at you.

“So is this really all it’s cracked up to be?” You asked, watching as he took the first bite. You had spent twenty minutes listening to his brother rave about it.

“Yes, I mean maybe not to other people but Evgeny and I ate it every weekend growing up. Is this why you called him?” He asked as he ate, reminiscing with every bite. His heart growing with love for you when you nodded behind your coffee mug sheepishly.

“I didn’t know how to make it but I remembered you mentioning it. I figured waking your brother up and dealing with his wrath would be worth it.” You teased, Evgeny had never been anything but nice to you and he probably appreciated this gesture as much as Andrei did.

“Also, I hope you didn’t have plans for the day or at least part of it. I wasn’t sure if you had to do something for the team or not.” You trailed off as he finished eating, grabbing the plate from him when he was done and carried it to the sink.

“I uh, I’m not sure. I think they’ll text me if I need to be there but I don’t think I need to today. Why?” He asked, though you didn’t answer him. You just grabbed his hand and pulled him to the living room, smiling as you looked at him.

He froze, seeing the elaborate blanket fort laid out in the living room, snacks and water already inside of it with your laptop. Part of him wondered if you had done thing last night and he had missed it in his tired state or if you had managed to do all of this, on top of breakfast, this morning. Before he could ask though you were tugging him to crawl into it, forcing him to drop to his knees to follow after you.

“What is all of this?” He asked after you settled in the pillow fort, laying on your back as you smiled up at him.

“This is me forcing you to relax and take a minute to yourself. I know last night did not go how you wanted, how any of you wanted, and maybe there’s nothing I can say right now that will make the thoughts in your head go away. Which I hate by the way, you’re way too hard on yourself but I just wanted you to take a day and not think about the game or about hockey or about what you could have done differently. I just, I know it’s not a lot but-”

Your rambling was cut off, as it so often was, by a quick kiss to your lips. You felt your shoulders drop as his hands cupped your cheeks, melting a little into the kiss before he pulled away and rested his forehead on yours.

“Thank you.”

It was a simple two words, but it was enough. It meant that he was accepting this, your plan to relax and just spend time together. Maybe it worked and maybe it didn’t, but all that mattered was he was willing to give it a chance.

The two of you spent most of the day in the fort watching movies, leaving only if you needed to use the bathroom or you needed more snacks. At some point the sun was beginning to sit lower in the sky and you both knew you would need to leave to make dinner, especially considering lunch had been nothing but snacks yet neither of you wanted to make that move.

You rolled onto your side, tucking your body even closer to his when you felt a bump against your thigh.

“That better just be your phone.” You teased and he looked at you confused before he realized that the small box that he had gotten well before the roadtrip was now pressed up against you. He sat up quickly, reaching into his pocket to pull it out, though you still couldn’t see it.

“Hey, I was just teasing.” You pouted, reaching for him as he chuckled and shifted to look at you. It was then you caught a glimpse of a familiar sized box and you found yourself sitting quickly to look at him.

“Andrei…” You began softly, it wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him but you two were both fairly young and had never discussed the prospect of marriage before.

“No! No, I mean. It’s not what you’re thinking, not yet.” He rushed to explain, his accent forcing the words to run together. It was something you had picked up, whenever he was angry or excited, his accent made it hard to differentiate what he was saying.

Instead of continuing his explanation, he opened the box to show you the very thin band, with three tiny diamonds in it. You could feel the breath leave your throat as you stared at it. It was beautiful, there was no doubt in your mind about that and it was your style. Simple, understated, something that you could wear with anything and it would never look out of place.

“So if not… that, then what is this?” You asked confused, looking up at him again with nervous eyes.

“It’s a promise and you don’t have to think of it as anything more than that. No other strings okay? I just. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know we haven’t talked about it before, but I wanted to make you the promise that one day, it’ll be a different ring and I had hoped to do it after a winning game, but this… I think this is much better.” He explained quietly, keeping his eyes on the ring, watching as you carefully pulled it out of the box.

This was not at all how he had planned on doing this, in his mind it was much smoother. It was after a winning game, probably not in your living room, and he also wouldn’t be stumbling over his words and half tempted to switch back to Russian. Despite all that though, he didn’t want to wait any longer and there was no taking it back now that it was out there.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you too.” You smiled, carefully slipping it on your right ring finger for now and smiling up at him. “ Don’t want to give people too many ideas now do we?”

You heard him chuckle before leaning down to kiss you again. The game may not have gone how you two wanted, the season may have ended early, but one thing was certain for the both of you.

You had each other, now and for the rest of your lives.

#andrei svechnikov imagine #Andrei Svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov writing #andrei svechnikov story #nhl #nhl writing #nhl imagine #nhl story #hockey story #hockey imagine #hockey writing #carolina hurricanes #carolina hurricanes imagine #carolina hurricanes story #carolina hurricanes writing

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ladykissingfish · 3 years

Note

drunk Akatsuki hc? 🥺

Ask and ye shall receive! ((Sorry it took so long to get to/finish this. Also get the nagging feeling I did a post very similar to this before but 🤷🏽‍♀️ piss poor memory so))

Drinking with the Akatsuki

Kakuzu

Takes a lot to get him drunk; his alcohol tolerance is pretty damn high. And when he does reach that point, he becomes … very unlike himself. Friendly, smiling, and extremely loose with his precious money. Kakuzu being drunk is the best time to ask him for an advance on your pay, or a personal loan. Another bonus: drunk Kakuzu is storytime Kakuzu. When he’s sober, the others don’t really like listening to his stories because they’re all boring as hell, and are usually centered around some point that he’s trying to nag everyone on. But drunk Kakuzu, well, he’ll tell you about brawls, dangerous stunts he pulled when he was a kid, sometimes even old lovers. He can keep the rest of the Akatsuki enraptured for hours with his intoxicated tales. The morning after a night of drinking is a different tale, though. He’ll remember loaning money to people and hunt them down to make sure that know they have to pay him back, and he’ll deny like crazy any story tidbits that the others bring up to him. Will also go through several pots of pure black coffee in an effort to de-hangover himself more quickly.

Pein

The Pein bodies don’t drink, but Nagato will, very rarely. Beer is his drink of choice, and he’ll opt for foreign rather than domestic. He’s not really the type to get full-on drunk (no matter what he’s the Leader and he carries himself as such), rather he’ll just get slightly tipsy. If he gets tipsy enough he’ll rant a bit to whoever’s closest about pain, and the unfairness of life, and anything else that would put a downer on happy drinkers’ moods. He always hopes that the alcohol will help him to sleep (he’s a horrible insomniac) but most times it just gives him a slight headache while leaving him wide-wake and dry-mouthed.

Hidan

Nobody wants to be around this guy when he’s had too much to drink, because the normally violent Hidan becomes even more so after hitting the booze. He’ll be willing to take on any and everyone, from teenagers to old men. And being immortal doesn’t help matters any; he could literally get torn limb from limb and his mouth would still be taunting his opponents with “Is that the best ya got, bastard??” Drinking also brings out his creative side when it comes to his human sacrifices and Jashin rituals; he’ll think up new (and horrible) ways to torment and kill his victims. Is the type to finally, FINALLY just completely pass out after reaching his final tolerance point, and the others will (reluctantly) drag him to his room and put him in his bed. Not many are willing to do this, however, as most times before he passes out he’ll have stripped himself completely naked.

Tobi

An emotional drunk. Gets sad and cries over practically anything. And it doesn’t take much to get him tanked, either; his tolerance level is embarrassingly low and he’ll be ready to sob after just a couple of glasses of wine. Tobi tries to avoid drinking when he can because he knows there’s a good chance of him dropping his persona and letting the others see Obito Uchiha. In fact this HAS happened a few times, where he’a taken off his mask and everything; fortunately for him the others were so gone that the next day they either didn’t remember, or believed that had just imagined the whole thing. Likes to soothe himself by slurring sad love songs at the top of lungs, joined most frequently by Deidara and Hidan. Will also drunkenly stuff his face with meats, which is a complete opposite from his sweet-loving sober self. He can throw down a dozen burgers when boozed up, the results of which will likely be in puddles all over the floor the next day. Will go to his bed and turn around in circles a bunch of times, like a dog, before finally going to sleep. “Tobi” will be the quietest he’s ever been the next day, as he fights a massive headachy hangover.

Konan

For being such a thin, delicate girl, Konan can hold her liquor right up there with the likes of Kakuzu and Kisame. One might never even know that she’s drunk to begin with; she walks perfectly straight, doesn’t slur her words, has almost perfect reflexes and normal mannerisms. One thing always gives her away, however; drunk Konan is hungry Konan. Under normal circumstances the little lady sticks to a healthy diet and isn’t one for over-indulging in anything. One shot or beer too many, and suddenly the gloves are off. Konan will make pizza, hotdogs, gigantic sundaes, cakes and pies … and devour almost all of it. She’ll share with the others if asked … but most times she’s eaten so much that there’s not much left to share. When she’s finally had her fill, she’ll go to bed … and wake up feeling sick as a dog the next morning. After the nausea passes, she’ll force herself to go for a long run or walk, no matter how much her head may be aching, in order to work off her excessive calorie intake.

Zetsu

Zetsu doesn’t drink, because alcohol interferes with his plant genetics, acting as literal poison to his system. But he enjoys being around the others when they’re drunk, to see the different types of personalities that emerge. Likes to hang around Hidan in particular, as the man’s sacrifices pick up significantly when he’s drunk, meaning Zetsu has more of a smorgasbord of leftovers to pick from

Sasori

As a puppet, Sasori doesn’t drink. But when he was a human, it was a different story. He turned himself into a non-human at a very young age, much younger, of course, than would have been the legal drinking age. But his grandmother kept a variety of wines in their home, and when she was away, he liked to pour himself a glass. Always only a single glass; he was intelligent enough both to know that his grandmother would notice if any larger of a quantity was missing, and, already dabbling in making poisons at this point, he understood the concept of “tolerance” better than most. But the single glass was enough; it seemed to comfort him during those nights when he was missing his mother and father. The wine also served as a brain-opener for him, of sorts: it was over wine that he first got the idea of turning himself into a puppet.

Deidara

Being young and so slender, and not having much experience with alcohol before joining the Akatsuki, the blonde is a bit of a light-weight when it comes to the hooch. He doesn’t really care for beers or ales (he compares the taste to “cat-piss”) and instead goes for the fruity mixed drinks that don’t SEEM that strong … until you’ve had about three or four, and they put you on your ass. Deidara becomes very lovey-dovey when drunk, and not just in a romantic sense. Alcohol makes everyone in the world his friend, and he’s suddenly interested in what others have to say about life and art. He’s even nice to Itachi, going so far as to hug him and tell him that he smells good, something that he will vehemently deny the next day. He’ll go to Sasori and cling to him and gush about how he appreciates his friendship and his guidance, until Sasori gets tired of him and tells him to go to sleep. Deidara can get to his room on his own, but once the door closes, he’s more likely to pass out on the floor than in his own bed. Also, if he didn’t think to tie up his long hair beforehand, he’ll be in for a nasty, messy surprise when he inevitably wakes up to vomit at some point.

Itachi

Itachi isn’t one to ever let himself lose control of his senses, no matter the situation. Therefore, if he’s drinking with the others, he’ll stick to one or two beers or a single shot before cutting himself off for the evening. He plays much of a “mom” role in the group, making sure the others are okay, lending a shoulder to cry on for the emotional drunks, and, if they’re out somewhere, making sure everyone gets home safe and sound. On the rare, RARE occasions he drinks by himself, and lets go of his hesitation, he’s just as emotional a drinker as Tobi (which is quite possibly an Uchiha trait). He’ll cry into his pillow, he’ll sit and lament over the choices he’s made in life. Sometimes he’ll find and put on the saddest song or movie he can think of, just so he has something to get emotional over. Although this sounds bad, this is actually a helpful bit of therapy for him, as it allows him to release emotions that he normally keeps bottled up. He’ll end a night of solo drinking with a cup of tea, then go quietly to bed, sleeping like a rock until the sun comes up and things go back to normal.

Kisame

Right up there with Kakuzu as being a guy that can hold his liquor like a champ. In fact his ability to do so has won him many drinking challenges at bars, as well as a formidable reputation as “one bad ass son of a bitch”. It also helps him confidence-wise; normally the half-shark is very reserved and keeps to himself, as he feels that his appearance is off-putting and scary to “normal” people. But alcohol loosens him up and gets him talking, and being bold, and many people find this switch in personality to be highly attractive. Ladies especially take notice of his smile, his eyes … and his muscles. He even scores several phone numbers from interested parties … but by the time he’s sober again, he never follows through with calling anyone. Also helps Itachi in that he keeps an eye on the others when they drink, to make sure that they’re safe.

#the akatsuki #drinking #kisame #itachi uchiha #zetsu #sasori #kakuzu #deidara #hidan #nagato #konan #tobi #obito uchiha #naruto #headcanon

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ahjustroza · 3 years

Text

Last Legacy Headcanon

💤Sleeping Together💤

(SFW)

Kind of a self insert type of headcanon. So that you beautiful people can imagine yourselves in Anisa’s arms. Or wrapped by Sage’s tail. Or Felix on top of you. Pick your poison ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

✨MC is always gender neutral in this blog✨

Enjoy~

Sage

I feel like in his case you are the little spoon most nights unless you tell him otherwise

He will always face you

Not because he doesn't trust you to turn his back at you

But he has to have you within his eyesight at all times

He wraps his arms around you or lets you wrap him with your arms while he rests his head against your chest.

He is probably the one to sleep on the wall side as well

Meaning, no matter which side you turn he can still cuddle you while keeping an eye on the room, window, or door for any possible threats at night

He won't let you know tho

oh no

He'll make sure you get your sleep without worrying about anything

He'll worry for you

Also will make everything so causal as well, unless you ask too many questions about his sleep routine you will never know he guards you even at nights

He'll purr and wrap his tail around your leg each time

He likes to have his tail around your leg

That way he can pull you even closer and feel your body more

Hair pets are a routine if you are willing

Kisses are also a must

He'll either kiss you on the cheek causally if you are both too tired and need to just lie down or give you longer and more sloppy kisses here and there

Playful on the bed for no one's surprise

Not always for heated follow-up moments if you catch my meaning, but romantic and intimate closeness is always there

You two are just too comfortable with each other and can lie down any way you want

He just has to feel your presence at all times

Also Sage is a light sleeper in my opinion

He has the potential to sleep like a bear but he also can intentionally sleep light as well

He'll check you each time you move away from him in your sleep

Either with his hands or by opening his eyes slightly

When you wake up for the bathroom or to grasp water he'll sit upright and look where you are going

Maybe ask you half asleep where you go in the middle of the night and if you don't answer he'll get up and follow you to see what you are up to

And he doesn't like walking around half asleep

Some nights he'll hold your arm and make you lay back down and grab you a glass of water himself

You two are way too comfortable

You won't mind if he purrs too loud in his sleep or throws one leg on you in his sleep

He also won't mind even if you sleep on top of him, take all the space in bed to yourself, or even drool in your sleep

He also won't mind morning hair or morning breath

He'll kiss you good morning and beg you to make/find breakfast every morning

Anisa

She actually cares for your sleep schedule a lot more than you do

Anisa is not like the controlling and then lecturing you for not getting enough sleep kind

She instead gives attention to how energic you wake up after long or short sleep every day and calculate how much sleep you need in her head 😌

Everyone's body works differently, some needs more than 8 hours of sleep while others are fine with only 4 hours of sleep

If you sleep less than her she'll make sure to lie down beside you if you like to spend time in bed until you sleep yourself

She enjoys your company in any way possible

While giving you your space

She'll learn your sleep habits as well

What kind of pillow do you sleep well with

Is it high or low? Hard or soft? What kind of pillowcase do you prefer?

Oh you bet she'll even change the bed with a new one if you are not comfortable with the old one

She likes to talk to you before going to sleep in the bed too!

She mostly would like to talk about the future of you two in my opinion

Where would you go together or what new things to try...

She'll ask you many questions about your world and home

I can also picture you two just wear your most comfortable pajamas and just be yourselves and really, really enjoy each other

Your pajamas might look ridiculous but have an insane level of comfort

Like you can wear just a random shirt with a really old coffee (or anything really, maybe soup stain? wine stain? pomegranate stains are a bitch to get rid of as well) stain that is just not going away no matter what you do

Or you can just wear a potato bag all she cares

She is nonjudgmental

She accepts you with your everything

And she actually likes it when you be yourself without having a need to look perfect at all times

She LOVES it when you just be comfortable around her

So just be natural

Wear your ugliest socks

She'll still call you gorgeous 🥺

Ah and she'll be comfortable around you as well

She is calm around you

Like really calm

Peaceful

Safe

Her muscles are relaxed as if she were just out of a spa day

You two start off by cuddling but when you both fall asleep it is just a matter of which position do you sleep most comfortable with

She just needs to feel your presence but won't sleep on top of you as Sage does

She might like to just put her arm around your waist in her sleep or sleep close to your body without putting her arms around you

I feel like she won't take a lot of space in bed to herself either

She is good with sharing

If you are a clingy sleeper she is fine with it as well

You can sleep on top of her and she'll caress your cheek before finding herself a comfortable position while not disturbing your sleep while you're still on top of her

She might want you to make a coffee for her in the morning while she takes care of the breakfast most mornings

You are the mighty barista after all 💪

If you don't know how to cook she'll teach you so that you can surprise her with a nice breakfast one day

While she might enjoy drinking her coffee with you in bed, you are not allowed to eat in bed

Felix

Yes.

He is ✨smol and pretty✨ but definitely has the potential to take a lot of space in bed while sleeping

His bed was huge and comfy before he signs to the Starsworns too in my opinion

Filthy rich and with a big comfy bed hmmm

But I also think he will just curl in your arms too so

It is a 50/50 situation with him

You are mostly the big spoon because he is

a bottom

yea

I don't decide the rules here

He will have a hard time getting comfy sleeping beside you early in the relationship

He is nervous for funny reasons

and adorable

He cares how he looks around you

Also, he is grown up in an almost perfectionist environment. Appearance among the upper class is always important.

His pajamas are comfortable, most likely silk or something soft

You have to take the first step to break the uncomfortable walls with him

It is not like Felix is pushing you away or don't want to sleep in the same bed with you

He does

But he is shy and nervous like I said

Be casual around him, wear your most comfortable pajamas without caring how ridiculous they might look on you

I am saying this way too much but I don't believe people wear fancy pajamas at all

If they do they belong to jail.

Wear that shirt with Spongebob print that you bought in 8th grade y'all

He'll find it reassuring but will also make comments on your pajamas

Because he is a "quick answerer"

He has a comment for everything 😌

But he'll relax after seeing you being yourself around him without worrying about how you look

Also not making comments about his bed hair or the way he sleeps will help a lot as well

Just be gentle with my sub bottom boy

Caress his hair when you hold him close

Maybe murmur a calming melody while stroking his back

Just enjoy his presence as much as he does enjoy yours

It is all looking mesmerizing and cute. Just like straight out of a romance movie awe

Holding the love of your life in your arms and feel his warmth

Until he falls asleep.

He is a blanked hog

I am not accepting any opposite commentary about this and baby boy takes all the blanket for himself in my dreams

And you will let him as well. as I do in those dreams

hehe

No, but I am serious.

He will wrap himself with the blanket

If he could breathe easily he would put his head under the blanket as well

Felix does this so that he can feel pressure around him

Something to hold him tight all around

Blanket hogging can be a huge sign of self insecurity and fear of outside factors/ harm coming to them in a sleep state

People that had a lot of sleep paralysis during their childhood tend to wrap their body with a blanket for the sense of security and sometimes feeling nervous even sleeping on their back

Those people usually sleep sideways or on their stomach

Felix has traumas and a not too peaceful childhood so I believe he will unconsciously feel like he is not secure in his sleep

I also think he is a heavy sleeper unless he is napping

He is a night owl yes

but it is only half because he doesn't need too much sleep

I think he might feel nervous in the dark. Not afraid, but nervous.

He saw a war against Lord of Shadows and lost the entire Starsworn

He also knows necromancy and nighttime rituals

There are also many abominations and monsters in The Last Legacy universe as well. Most likely he fought many during the war

My point is, sleeping is partly torture for Felix without him knowing it

So when he got used to sleeping beside you, he started to feel alive when he woke up

His unconscious told him that he was safe with you

That you would protect him

That you will always be beside him, ready to pull him in your arms

And your scent is a calming factor for him too

He started off by getting more and more clingy with you in his sleep each night

When you hit the final/ 100th Level (the chosen barista: Felix’s hug pillow) with making Felix comfortable in his sleep, he starts sleeping in positions such as curling in your arms, tangling his legs to yours, and getting the blanked all the way up to your necks

Or if you turn your back to him in your sleep, he will sleep either pressing his back to yours and hugging the blanket at the same time or wrap an arm and leg around you with the blanket covering his entire back

On summer nights tho you will have to put your arm around him with a small space between you two to not get sweaty

Or he will not care about the heat and sleep on top of you

He mostly gets lucky with the summer breeze on top of you, but you'll feel super hot beneath his body

Put your arm around him if you want to sleep

Either way, he wakes up looking healthier each day

Just seeing how relaxed his shoulders look in the mornings feels heavenly for you

You are good for him

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interlagosed · 2 years

Note

Can we have more details on their daily life? Do they have like rituals they do every day or every week?

Ah!!! I think their routine is a little bit wild and unpredictable in the early months after the revolution. I don't know how well it came across, but Hiberia and especially Navar are absolutely a little magical. Lando and Carlos would NEVER have decided to get married SO SOON into a relationship, let alone without even consulting Lando's family, if it wasn't for Navar being Navar and the revolution being the revolution, and everybody else - who is similarly affected by the magic of the land - kind of goes "well, yeah, of course," without really questioning it - it's only when George brings in the outside world by accidentally texting Cisca that they both realize oh no we fucked up a little.

That doesn't stop them from getting married, but it does delay things a little bit lol. Which means that they have to scramble in those first weeks - arrange travel for the Norrises, Lando still has to figure out what's happening with the rest of the semester (everyone goes pass/fail) and then finish up his classes, Carlos ends up working for Luis (which is what inspires Luis to actually hire help instead of letting everyone just kinda serve themselves), get their marriage license and figure out a venue, THEN Carlos decides actually he wants to get a PhD, AND they need to find a place to live - anyway, it's intense.

WHEN THINGS FINALLY SETTLE DOWN, around that summer, is when a proper routine gets going. The epilogue hints at that. Carlos invariably wakes up first. He goes out for a run first thing in the morning, comes back to make breakfast and coffee for himself and Lando (this is when Lando wakes up and it's everything Carlos can do to ensure their breakfast is warm because it's so hard not to push groggy, perfect Lando onto a counter and debauch him while the food gets cold), which they almost always take out in the balcony. They always chat about what their days look like, then shower together (another dangerous juncture in their day). This is their favorite time of day, to be honest. It's so mundane and silly and they're so happy together. When the school year starts, they always walk to campus together, usually meet up with Alex and George on the way, chat briefly, and then diverge. They try to get lunch together - either at a cafe or food that they packed from home, because it's cute. When it's cold, Lando just joins Carlos in his office, and it's not an uncommon sight for students visiting Carlos' hours to see Lando walk out as they walk in with a little wave back at Carlos and a, "I'll see you at home, yeah?"

"Adios, amor!"

Carlos stays on campus until about 5pm, working on his research, lecture outlines, meeting with students, etc. Lando usually goes to La Justicia if he's done with everything he needs to be done with on campus, but very frequently he also gets coffee with Reyes or Ana or Blanca - at least once every week! Their evenings depend. More often than not, again, they're at La Justicia. They keep up movie nights with Alex and George and get dinner once a week with the Sainzes, usually on the weekend, and usually they just stay the night there in Carlos' childhood bedroom.

Sometimes, there's renewed excitement. Usually to do with Carlos Sr. Carlos writes a lot of op-eds and publications. Sometimes journalists call Lando asking for Carlos and he's like ?? why are you asking ME, I'm not his secretary.

Who's his secretary?

"Jesus Christ, he's a PhD student, he's his secretary! Have a good day!"

Cisca visits at least a few times a year, and they end up buying a home on the outskirts of Navar, on the Mediterranean, which Lando and Carlos use sometimes when Carlos is stressed or when Lando needs to work on a whole set of paintings for exhibits - because he starts exhibiting work a lot more frequently at Carlos' encouragement. This is when he begins his series of paintings inspired by Carlos and the revolution.

The nights are all theirs, though. The passion they have for each other never fades. Carlos still thinks Lando is the most beautiful man he's ever seen. Lando still thinks Carlos is the single best person in the world. They're each other's biggest fans, biggest sources of encouragement, biggest inspirations. And so when their routine is boring, it's the best feeling in the world; because it just means more time, reliably, spent with one another.

#hibi answers #¡revolución!

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maddieinwonder · 4 years

Text

A Lesson In Romance #7: False Start

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Just a lot of awkward vibes hahaha

Word Count: 1.7k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, they try to confess their feelings.

A/N: I didn’t actually manage to include the definition of a False Start in the chapter itself, so I’ll add it at the end. No spoilers for now!

Masterlist | All chapters here!

-----------

It took you 24 hours to decide that you were going to do something about your feelings for the good doctor. Pretty quick, considering you were a living, breathing rom-com cynic. But as ancient Greek philosopher, Heraclitus, once said: "The only constant in life is change".

Specifically, change happened after you woke up in your cute co-worker and dear friend's arms and you wanted nothing more than to get back into them as fast as possible.

But by the universal laws of working in the BAU, catching a break seemed to be the hardest when you actually wanted one.

Firstly, it was like every serial killer in the country decided to cancel their vacations simultaneously, swamping the team with urgent case after case. At this point, you were more familiar with the couch on the jet than your bed at home, and everyone was feeling the strain.

Secondly, if you weren't sleeping, you were usually out in the field chasing unsubs with Derek or Rossi. You had stopped holding out hope for being paired with Spencer — on account of your areas of specialty overlapping too much, and Hotch not being the type of leader to waste his resources — and as a result:

Thirdly, getting even ten minutes alone with the genius became an impossible task, and not for lack of trying either. At the start of the month, the two of you had tried to adapt your breakfast ritual to the road, but it always got interrupted mid-coffee order or even at the ding of the lift. Not that you and Spencer stopped trying, no, but your patience was wearing thin.

So you did something you hadn't done since you submitted your application to join the BAU — you prayed for a chance.

Because every day that you didn't admit your feelings to the doctor was another day fighting the compulsion to tell somebody else about them, and god only knows what a room full of profilers (and one nosy tech analyst) would do with that kind of information.

Then, out of the blue, the door of opportunity opened.

After two weeks of straight travel, the team had earned a well-deserved one night’s rest in your own beds before dealing with a local case, bright and early tomorrow morning. And since your flight landed at 2am and all the trains had stopped by then, this gave you the perfect shot to execute your plan.

Unfortunately, you forgot to take into account the most important factor — your nerves.

It didn't help that Derek had wolf-whistled in the carpark as the two of you walked off in the same direction, nor that Spencer immediately put your favourite album into the CD player out of instinct; an overly domestic action that made your heart beat even faster.

But it was when you arrived in front of his apartment building that you felt the worst of it. As you tried to summon the right words to your lips, your heart hammered in your chest and your thoughts jumbled themselves into nonsense.

"Are you ok?" Spencer asked, snapping you out of your anxious spiral instantly. "You don't look so well."

"I-I'm fine." Your fingers twitched nervously.

"Doesn't seem like it." He looked down at your hands, and you cursed your subconscious brain for giving you away. Then, he placed a hand over yours and your heart stopped.

"You're not alright, that's for sure, but it seems like it's just sleep deprivation." He assessed, bending slightly to look at your face. "You can't drive in this state. Do you want to come in?”

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze, ready to protest, but Spencer beat you to it. "Let’s go. You wanted to talk about something, right?" He called out, already one foot out of the car.

Before you could realise what was happening, you found yourself sitting on Spencer's couch holding a warm cup of tea.

This was the first time you were in his apartment. Yet, it was exactly what you thought it'd be like. Every wall was lined with bookshelves, filled to max capacity with books of every topic imaginable from neuroscience to philosophy. Those that didn't make it to the shelves were found in random stacks around his apartment, standing out against his forest green walls.

"Did you know that chamomile tea is a natural remedy for insomnia? In fact, it is commonly regarded as a mild tranquilizer. It's calming effects may be attributed to the antioxidant apigenin, which binds to specific receptors in your brain that initiate sleep and reduce anxiety." He explained, walking over with his own mug.

"I actually did know that." You smiled. The tea seemed to work its magic because you did feel relaxed, and you must have looked it too, because the worried frown disappeared off Spencer's face.

"Didn't know you were a tea person." You commented lightly, blowing the steam from your mug.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me." He replied mysteriously, and you raised your eyebrows.

Spencer's apartment was too quiet, no rumbling fridge or quiet radio playing in the background to make your awkward silence any less pronounced. It was then that you noticed he didn't have a TV. Somehow this fact didn't surprise you very much.

"You... you wanted to talk to me about something?" He broke the silence, looking down at the hot tea swirling in his mug.

Right. You were here to talk about your feelings. Your face flushed as you tried to summon your willpower, again.

"I wanted to tell you something—" You began shakily. "But before that, I just want to preface, we can ignore this entire thing if you don't agree. I mean, I really enjoy our friendship as it is, and I wouldn't want to do anything to affect tha—"

"Wait." Spencer interrupted urgently, before catching himself. "Sorry, um, before that, can I say something?"

"Um, ok, shoot." You replied meekly, trying to hide your relief behind a long sip of tea. There was a pause as he gathered his thoughts, and you might have been seeing things, but he looked almost... nervous?

"The day we met, I calculated the probability of meeting somebody that shared my exact coffee order and the result was almost one in a million.” He finally spoke, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “That probability decreased when I factored in working together, sharing the same interests, and... and how I enjoyed spending time with you more than with anybody else."

Spencer cleared his throat, a blush coming onto his cheeks.

"Ever since then... my life just started making sense. I know I’m a scientist, not a poet, and I could tell you all the statistics about relationships in the world, but when it comes to you...”

His cheeks were crimson now, as he ran his fingers through his hair. You had a feeling yours looked the same.

"I guess, what I'm trying to say, is that I think you're beautiful and smart, and I have no idea what you see in me, but I'd really—"

Suddenly, both your phones buzzed violently against his coffee table, jolting you out of the moment. You leaned over in a trained motion, only to see exactly what you expected:

Garcia: No rest for the wicked, crime fighters. Conference room in 30.

Penny: No rest for the wicked, crime fighters. Conference room in 30.

You let out a sigh you didn't realise you were holding, and Spencer looked over at you, doe-eyed and nervous.

“The case?" He asked quietly.

There was a silence filled with words unsaid. "We should go." He said finally. "If we leave now, we can still make it on time."

You only nodded in response, more out of duty than desire, and gulped down the rest of your tea. The thought of what he was about to say burned down your throat.

Driving away from Spencer’s apartment was torturous. The doctor hadn’t said anything to you since he entered the car, only fiddling with his bag as he looked out the window. It was too dark to read his expression, but you wondered if he could still hear the way he called you “beautiful”, or whether the moment had already dissolved into the space between you.

Luckily, you didn’t need to wait long for an answer, as Spencer tugged on your sleeve before you exited the carpark, his face scrunched in worry.

"I really didn't mean for that to be so... weird. Can we talk about this again after the case?" He asked softly, and despite every semblance of logic left in your brain, you couldn’t stop the hope from blooming in your chest and you smiled.

That was when Spencer did something completely uncharacteristic. (You didn't know this at the time, but it was something that you would tease him about for a long time after.)

In one fluid movement, the doctor pulled you into a tight hug that elicited a squeak from you, but it only took a second for the initial shock to wear off before you relaxed completely into his warm touch. He took that as a sign to continue, burying his head into your shoulder and letting out a content sigh.

Unlike waking up to your bodies intertwined, nothing about this was a mistake. Not the way his fingers stroked your back peacefully, nor the way his curly hair tickled your cheek. You felt the stress of the past two weeks melt away in his embrace, and so did any coherent thought, except one: normal friends didn't hug each other like this.

Later when the two of you finally entered the conference room, miraculously still on time, nobody commented on the smiles plastered on your faces but everybody could tell. They were profilers after all.

But for the first time in awhile, you were just too happy to care.

-----------

Tag List:

@blue-space-porgs @nobutalsoyes @lady-loves-a-lot @queen-flower @oops-all-ajs @spottedzebrasinpartyhats @agentcarterisgay @totalmess191 @sapphic-prentiss @mellowalieneggsknight || @averyhotchner @amesandpineapples @willowrose99

Definition of a False Start here

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usaginotwst · 3 years

Note

☂️🔪🖤🧺 for jade, kalim and floyd please?

Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Tumblr never notified me that I had more asks, I feel like a heel!!!

☔️— What are they like when they’re emotional? How quickly do they recover?

Jade is a very patient guy. Things just seem to brush by him while he remains unaffected. However, no one is immune to negativity, especially one so far away from home. Homesickness hits him when he least expects it and after a phone call from his mother, he finds himself weighed down with the dark feeling of longing.

When he gets like this, he reaches out to you to see if you're able to spend time with him to take his mind off of things. When he's in your room, he sighs deeply, alerting you that something's wrong. Jade still tries to deny it, but one look from his you and he finds himself breaking down. He doesn't shed tears, but he does come close. If you let him vent and talk about the wonders of the Coral Sea, encouraging his excitement when he tells you about the best festivals and most exciting things to find down there, he'll start to smile more naturally and the tension leaves his shoulders.

Jade never stays upset for long because he knows himself better than anyone and can find ways to cheer himself up. There hasn't been a moment that he's found himself in dire straights. Yet.

When Floyd gets upset, the world knows it. He takes it out on anyone smaller than he is, namely freshman, shoving them to the side and roughly bumping into them in the hallway as he makes his way somewhere secluded where he can throw a fit in peace.

Floyd is the type of guy that gets frustrated with his own emotions, wishing they would stop and let him off the ride, which only makes him angrier or dive deeper into sorrow. He doesn't have the same kinds of mood regulating system that Jade seems to have, so he has to tire himself out before he can be okay again.

In terms of being homesick, Floyd will huff and puff before getting up and decided to just go home. It's the simplest way to ease the pain, he thinks, but you stop him, telling him its not reasonable to go all the way to The Coral Sea. This only irritates him further.

Some adjustments have to be made before he throws a full-blown tantrum, but when you draw him a bath all the way to the top where he can switch to his true form, he goes from fuming to a pout, which is a start. Floyd sinks deep into the tub so all that's visible is his eyes over the waterline and his tail that's too long and flips up and over the edge of the tub.

When Floyd starts to blow bubbles under the water or splash at you, that's the cue that he's ready to talk.

Poor, sweet Kalim is a crier. He cries at everything. He's a cancer after all. When he gets seriously upset, he wails at top volume. Snot pours from his nose and spit dribbles down his cheeks as he swipes at his tears.

Kalim will suck it up and stop crying just long enough to reach you before he breaks down again. The world could be ending, but once he's in his person's arms, all would be right. Once he feels safe, Kalim will calm down to a low sniffle, wipe away his tears and nuzzle his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent before sighing you out.

Like a raging storm, Kalim's emotions leave just as quickly as they come. Usually he cries himself out and has to take a nap afterward due to the emotional toll and exhaustion.

🔪— How would they react to injury/misfortune befalling their partner? Do they feel at fault?

Jade's ever present smile falters for a moment before he leads you away with a flourish and reassurance. After triple checking to make sure you're truly okay, he will go do his own snooping to try and figure it all out. If it was caused by another student, Jade would just start appearing everywhere that student was. In the cafeteria, out in the playing field, in the back of class. Jade would make that person's life a living hell by gaslighting them, making them believe they're going crazy, and generally frightening them.

If it was just an accident of your own accord, Jade would sigh and poke a little fun at your expense (unless you were seriously hurt) and then help bandage you up before he realizes that he doesn't really know as much first aid as he thought. He hoists you up, piggyback style and takes you to the infirmary. Your proximity makes up for any guilt he'd been carrying since finding out about your injury.

Floyd on the other hand, would go in swinging. Once he figures out how it happened, it's squeezing time. He's almost put on academic probation for putting another student in the infirmary wing, but it was worth it to defend your honor. If it's not a situation that he can just squeeze away, he might feel totally conflicted. He wants to help, but for the first time in his life he feels helpless and it staggers him a bit. Guilt keeps him at bay as he reevaluates his importance in your life. He'll bounce back, but it'll take him awhile.

Revenge is the last thing on Kalim's mind when he hears that you've been hurt. With the immediate first thought of your food being poisoned, he rushes to your side. If it's a more physical injury, while relieved it's not poison, Kalim would shed guilty tears and promise to take care of you no matter what. He doesn't leave your side and it may come to the point that you have to tell him to relax and go do something on his own because of how clingy he is.

🖤— Random romantic headcanon

Kalim likes to lay with you and watch the stars, taking each moment to point out constellations. When he can't find any, he likes to pull you close, breathe you in, and it's not until his wandering hands reach your own do you realize he's humming a low tune. Floyd flops back and forth between being touchy-feely and not wanting anything to touch his skin, but when he's in a cuddly mood there is little you can do to keep his hands off of you. He leans on you in line for coffee. While you're reading, his fingers waltz up your spine, over your shoulder, and down your arm to intertwine with yours. He likes random kisses, but also gives light bites to your shoulder when you're not paying attention.

Jade loves it when you listen to his rambling. When he realizes, mid-tangent, that you're looking at him with love in your eyes, he sputters for a second and a blush starts travelling up his neck to rest on his cheeks. Overwhelmed with love, he can't even continue when you urge him too.

🧺— Random domestic headcanon

Floyd loves baths and made sure he had a custom one built for your house on land. He has his nightly bath ritual and if it isn't done 100% on the nose, he gets irritable. He runs the bath and while it's filling up, he goes to fetch you - no matter where you are or what you're doing - and races back with you in tow to continue prep. Bath salt, milks, essences, and all sorts of things go into the bath and before you know it you're both in there as well. He holds you close and only allows you to leave once your promised 15 minutes are up, then he finishes the rest of his bath alone to soak.

Kalim's not a morning person. He will do absolutely anything to keep you in bed with him an extra 5, 10, 15 minutes. He groans and stretches, and with his outstretched hand he pulls you to him and settles back in. His favorite days are the ones when you actually get to stay in bed with him and laze about, whispering sweet nothings and sharing lazy, bleary kisses in the morning light.

Jade is an almost perfect househusband. He takes care of the cooking, the cleaning, and everything in between. It wasn't something you forced him to do, he just seemed to fall into it himself. However, on the days he wakes up to find you already up and tending to the household chores so he can get some extra sleep, he finds himself remembering just why he loves you.

#twst headcanons #twst hc #twisted wonderland #kalim al asim #floyd leech #jade leech #headcanons #asks

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multiverseofimagines · 4 years

Text

❝ sunday morning ❞ a.d characters hc

In which what the “boys” would do on a Sunday morning, alongside their s/o.

Kylo

➤ Kylo loathes mornings, in fact he hates them so much, he insists that no one wake him up early unless he’s truly needed, or has specific duties to fufill that day. Though loyal to his job, the mornings and late evenings are the only times you truly get to spend together as a couple, the rest of the time, he is quite busy with all of his supreme leader tasks.

He’s super cuddly in the morning, and this is one of the few times you get to see a glimpse of what once was Ben Solo. The gentle likeness of his past self seeping through in his whiny morning voice, only gaining it’s raspiness once he’s awaken slightly for the day.

If you need to get up and do something early, he’ll use the force to make you lay there with him for an extra moment, which will often cause you to submit to his demands happily.

He is not a breakfast guy, and often forgets to eat meals of any nutritional value ( definitely claims he’s ‘too’ nauseas to eat.) but Sundays are the rarest of occasions that he will join you for breakfast in the private dining room of the ship. (+ his favourite is bacon with syrup drizzled on top)

Clyde Logan

➤ Clyde isn’t opposed to mornings, but his schedule usually consists of waking up late, anyway. The bar doesn’t open till the afternoon, and unless Clyde needs to do early mornin’ paperwork, or check the post office, you can bet your stars he won’t be up before atleast 10am.

He’s a cartoon and cereal guy.

Though Clyde favours his mostly burnt bacon, most mornings he’ll eat cereal with you on the couch while ya’ll are still in your underwear, watchin’ Sunday mornin’ cartoons together.

( He really enjoys the cartoon network. Some of his favourites are; Tom & Jerry, Adventure Time and Scooby Doo)

He’ll also insist you two share the cereal and feed eachother bites if your cereal choice is different that morning. Which often results in spilt milk upon both you and the couch.

(+ ya’ll will also shower together most mornings.)

Charlie Barber

➤ Charlie is the biggest morning person, the man lives for mornings. Most of his routine consists of early mornings, paired with a cup of coffee and starting work right away, but Sundays are definitely his lenient of days,

He will sleep in, only for a couple more hours than usual, still awaking considerably early. He’ll also wake Henry up if it’s his weekend, and start cooking breakfast, whilst your in bed still. Sometimes you’ll get up with them and help, but most mornings Charlie will try and slip out of bed without waking you, feeling guilty for all the mornings you’d have to rush Henry to school, or make Charlie breakfast. He is so considerable upon making it up to you, and letting you know he appreciates what you do for him.

He has grown to like certain cartoons that Henry watches, maybe a bit too much, as he will often get the theme songs stuck within his head, and hum them whenever he gets a chance throughout the course of the week. (His favourites are Pokemon, Spiderman and Spongebob.)

Despite watching Cartoons with Henry, his first order of business when he wakes up is to watch the global news.

Charlie also has a habit of wanting to not sit around all day, and will often make plans to go on bike rides, to the movies, go for lunch, etc.

(+ He definitely pays for Disney plus)

Flip Zimmerman

➤ Flip doesn’t hate mornings, nor does he particularly enjoy them. He prides himself in being on time for work, and has many early mornings in which he must go into the station, including Sundays.

If he does have a Sunday off, or a day in particular off, he’ll still get up earlier than noon (any later and he’ll feel like his whole day has been wasted) He starts his morning off by making coffee, and reading the newspaper (he’s a sucker for crosswords, and will often ask you for help.)

If he doesn’t read the paper first thing, he may find it upon himself to read a bit of his late Mother’s copy of the Torah (Talmud), filled with little colored tabs on important pages. His morning Torah readings always keep him humble. He also highlights quotations that stick with him.

He hates morning telivision, and insists that it rots your brain.

Always wants to grocery shop on Sundays, insisting that the market won’t be busy, even though it always is.

(+ please don’t even get me started on the morning s*x)

Paterson

➤ Paterson could lay in bed forever with you, and he often won’t get up till at least twelve if he has the day off (usually does on sundays)

Depending on the day and his willingness to go out, sometimes you’ll head to a Diner for a late brunch. If not, you’ll usually make something for breakfast. ( Very rare occasion that you two have a huge breakfast. The most it will consist of is either cereal or eggos.)

Sunday is his day of quiet oasis. After food, he’ll hide in the basement and write for hours, only getting up when he smells the scent of food or when you call for him to come help with various house chores. ( Though you try not to interrupt his Poetry writing, no matter how much help you need.)

Sometimes he will also suggest going on a walk with you, just to get out of the house a bit.

Phillip Altman

➤ Phillip is not a morning person, and is quite a baby with waking up early, but there’s one thing that will eliminate his bitchiness.

Morning S*x, obviously (What else did you think it was?).

That’s a given ritual on almost every Sunday, accompanied by falling back asleep afterwards for a few more hours.

You will usually get up before him, and start cooking brunch (+if you feel comfy, it would more than likely be in one of his shirts and just your underwear.) He would also come smack your ass while your cooking, in which would end in you chasing him around with a spatula.

He does the dishes cause you cooked ( my heart melts ahhh)

Phillip is not a cartoon guy unless it’s an “adult” cartoon ( + his faves are American Dad, Rick and Morty and Family guy.) Though usually on Sunday’s he’ll suggest watching a movie and cuddling on the couch (he always suckers you into an action movie, despite your slight hatred for his taste. They aren’t like fun.meaningful action movies, they are super boring and filled with dumb plots.) Your lack of interest will almost always lead to a tickle fight or a make-out sesh.

#adam driver #adam driver imagine #adam driver x reader #adam driver headcanons #adam driver smut #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman imagine #flip zimmerman #phillip altman #phillip altman imagine #Clyde logan #Paterson #paterson imagine #charlie barber #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber imagines #kylo ren #kylo imagine #kylo ren imagine

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skzsauce01 · 4 years

Text

Cutie Pie

Synopsis: Who’s your secret admirer? Guess you’ll have to unmask him at your academy’s end-of-term ball.

Warning: none

Word Count: 5.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x Bang Chan, best friends Sana and Nayeon

Saturday was the most anticipated day of the week. The academy only allowed mail to be collected on Saturdays, so Jihyo, the unofficial resident adviser, would head down to the mailroom early in the morning and collect all the packages and letters for everyone in the hall. She didn’t need to do such a thing when everyone had access to the mailroom, but it was a passed down ritual from the opening of the girls’ dorm. There would always be a few girls in the common room, waiting for their deliveries of skin products and 3 AM impulse buys. You would know; you were a sucker for a sale, no matter how much money your parents made.

However, this particular Saturday, every single girl was awake at seven o’clock and impatiently waiting for Jihyo to appear. Even you, who had pulled an all-nighter on Thursday to cram study, had let your excited roommate and friend Sana drag you into the common room with no complaints. Despite how exhausted you felt, you wanted to know what the theme of the end-of-term ball was as well.

You yawned and huddled closer to Sana on the plush velvet couch. You wished she would have let you grab your thick comforter before you left. The usually lit fireplace — though more for decoration than actual function — held nothing but ashes, and the big, drafty room was colder than usual. You shivered and mumbled a few choice words to your roommate, who was in too good of a mood to retort back. Luckily, Nayeon, who was on Sana’s other side, threw a section of her own comforter to you, and you gratefully snuggled under it.

“Thank you,” you said, nose already buried by fluffy white fur.

Sana poked your arm. “What do you think the theme is this year?”

You shrugged. You were always bad at guessing. “Winter Wonderland?”

“That’s what we did two years ago!” she shook her head. “Hey, Nayeon. What about you?”

However, before Nayeon could reply, Jihyo entered the room with an armful of boxes. “Mail!” she cheerfully announced.

Normally, girls would descend upon her like a murder of crows to pick up their packages, but everyone stayed still and stared at the rolled up poster at the top of the mail pile. They all watched as she slowly set down the boxes in the middle of the room and eagerly waited for her to say the theme. But Jihyo only grinned and teasingly asked why no one wanted their orders.

“Jihyo! Tell us already!” Momo whined. She raised the pillow she was previously hugging, threatening to throw it at the older girl.

“Okay, okay,” Jihyo smiled. Agonizingly slow, she unrolled the theme announcement poster. “This year’s end-of-term ball is… Midnight Masquerade!”

A wave of gasps and whispers rippled across the room. This was something no one was expecting; more often than not, themes were recycled from the ones twenty years ago. Thrilled by the prospects of daring new outfits and dancing with a boy, the murmurs evolved into full length conversations. You slunk low into your seat while half listening to Sana and Nayeon decide what color to wear. A masquerade, huh? Not only were there now dresses and shoes to discuss, but also masks. Since everyone would be less noticeable wearing them, then maybe…

“Maybe your secret admirer will ask you to the ball!” Sana suddenly said out loud.

“Shh!” you hissed. You quickly scanned the room to make sure no one heard. Fortunately, everyone was engrossed in their own worlds.

Your roommate rolled her eyes. “Who doesn’t know about him at this point? He bought all your leftover apple pies during the Fall Festival.”

“Who could forget?” you said, remembering how fifty apple pies were bought in a single purchase.

You paced the tiny area inside the booth. It was the last day of Fall Fest, and there were still boxes of unbought apple pies. If you didn’t sell them all in an hour, the club would lose money. Not that it really mattered, you thought to yourself, as JYP was a private academy that received exorbitant amounts in donations and tuitions anyway. Surely the student council would allocate some funds for the Astronomy Club. However, the club’s reputation would be hurt, and selling apple pies had been your idea. Being president sucked sometimes.

Seungmin, another board member of the club, soon returned from his break, and you guiltily dumped the task on him. You promised to come back ten minutes before Fall Fest ended, and he merely waved you off. You spent the rest of the time doing your best to steal customers from other food booths, but no one seemed to want gourmet apple pie when there was a lobster food truck around.

When your time was up, you headed back to the booth with a frown and a posture that would have been deemed unacceptable by your mother. To your confusion and delight, there were no more pies left. Seungmin explained that someone purchased all of them on behalf of his employer. He also offhandedly mentioned that the man muttered, “What is that boy going to do with all this?” while handing him the money.

You prodded Seungmin for more answers, but that was all he knew.

“And he sent you that cute card after, too!” Nayeon chimed in.

You received the card the next Saturday after the festival. When you went to check if you got any mail, there was a horde of girls surrounding the coffee table. Momo had an envelope in her hand, and you assumed it was another letter for her from her long distance boyfriend, but to your surprise, Momo herself presented it to you with a flourish. The fancy white envelope had your name inked across the center in rose gold.

“Who is it from?” Dahyun asked, standing on her tiptoes behind you, trying to read over your shoulder.

You carefully opened it and immediately felt heat rushing to your face when you read the simple message on the creamy paper: “I think you’re a cutie pie” followed by a line drawing of an apple pie.

Dahyun had read it out loud, and news that you had a secret admirer spread throughout the academy like a wildfire. Even after a month, no one could even mention pie without a teasing glance in your direction.

“What if he reveals himself to you at the ball?” Jeongyeon stage-whispered. Evidently, no one wanted to talk about dresses anymore when a mysterious boy was involved. “Wouldn’t that be romantic?”

Too flustered by being the center of attention, you didn’t respond. You had to admit, Jeongyeon was right. Six-year-old you would have swooned at the current situation, and bold thirteen-year-old you would have pestered anyone and everyone for more information. Fall Fest you simply kept the note hidden in your desk drawer and secretly reread it. Sana caught you once, and it was embarrassing to say the least.

“Y/N, are you busy then?”

Sana’s words snapped you out of your haze. You looked at her. “Hm?”

“Shopping next Sunday!” she brightly answered. “Nayeon said she’ll drive us!”

So, it was set. You and Sana would meet Nayeon in the common room at 9:30 to check out the new boutique downtown. However, you already had an idea of what you wanted to wear and were starting to draw the design in your head. You made a mental note to call up your favorite fashion house to place an order. You would go shopping for shoes, but the dress and its matching mask was a done deal.

Sana and Nayeon had similar ideas, and the three of you made a promise to each other and yourselves to only focus on accessories though you were sure that pact would be broken the moment you all stepped foot into downtown.

The rest of the week flew by quickly. Amidst doing homework and studying, you chatted with the other students about the masquerade, which was only a month away. Some of the boys started asking girls to the ball with elaborate bouquets, self-composed songs, and in one case, a choreographed dance number. Sana and Nayeon crossed names off their “Who Could Y/N’s Secret Admirer Be?” list with each asking. By Friday night, their list was tacked onto the bulletin board in the common room so other girls could contribute. You stationed yourself on a nearby couch, pretending to be busy typing an essay on your laptop. You were too curious to actually write anything, so instead you watched like a hawk whenever someone even came close to the bulletin board.

“... and Ok Taecyeon,” Dahyun read aloud. “So, it’s not them. How about…” She closed her eyes and jabbed her finger to a random spot. “The wall?”

“Definitely not the wall,” you giggled.

“He’s kind of cute though. Dark blue paint, random fliers.”

You laughed at her as she began cooing at the wall, telling how dashing it looked in dark blue. Dahyun was always trying to make you feel better about the situation. She was the last person to come by for the night, and you begrudgingly headed back to your dorm to go to bed an hour after Dahyun left.

Saturday afternoon you went to check your mail after waking up. The winter coat you ordered arrived on Wednesday, and you desperately needed it now that temperatures were starting to drop. To your surprise, the common room was nearly full, and the commotion turned into silence as you came into view.

“Hey,” you cautiously said. “Did something happen?”

“You got a letter,” was the simple answer.

Like people passing each other buckets of water to put out a fire, the girls passed down the letter to you. You didn’t miss the sly looks that were exchanged. Once the thick envelope was in your hand, a sense of deja vu washed over you. When you glanced down, your name was written in rose gold, in the same loopy calligraphy from the Fall Festival. Your heart fluttered, and you knew why, but the lump of anxiety in your stomach you didn’t understand. Maybe it was because you wanted privacy for such a momentous moment. Maybe it was because you had fifteen pairs of eyes on you.

“What does it say?” Jeongyeon asked, graciously not saying what everyone wanted to know — “Who is it from?”

You might as well get it over with, you reasoned, since everyone would badger you with questions anyway. You lifted the flap, breaking the red wax. You noted that the family coat of arms featured two floppy-eared dogs and branches with rounded leaves. The last letter didn’t have a seal, you remembered. The same cream-colored stationery as before greeted your eyes, and you opened the card with gentle fingers, taking care not to crease it.

Meeting you would be grand. I’ll be waiting with a red rose in hand.

A pressed rose petal decorated the bottom half of the note, and you absentmindedly touched it while trying to slow your racing heart. Your eyes were glued to the message, rereading it over and over again. This was it, your chance to finally meet him. A hint of a smile started to show on your face, and Mina, observant as always, pointed it out.

“Is it something good?” she said, already knowing the answer.

You nodded, hiding your visibly flustered face with the envelope. Cheers erupted throughout the room, Sana being the loudest one of them.

“So, who is it?” Nayeon asked. “Is it BamBam? He’s been acting suspicious lately.”

“Jeongin? He always asks you for help,” Chaeyoung suggested.

You reread the card, searching for a signature, an inside joke, something to indicate the sender. Unfortunately, all you had was the seal, but you recognized none of the elements that would help you narrow down your search.

You showed everyone the broken wax. “Anyone know whose family seal this is?” You handed the envelope to the closest girl, who glanced at it and passed it to the next person.

When it reached Sana, she brought it centimeters away from her eyes, scrutinizing every little detail she could pick out. “It looks familiar, but I don’t know,” she finally said out loud. “I’ll ask around. Okay if I take a picture, Y/N?”

“Please.” You wanted to know who this mystery boy was more than anyone.

The envelope came back to you, and you carefully tucked the card inside. The crowd started to thin out as girls started to head back to their rooms or out of the dorms. So did you.

Once inside your room, the package that held your much needed winter coat was left discarded at the foot of your bed. With shaky hands, you reopened both the cards you had received from your secret admirer. You traced the words with a trembling finger, feeling the imprints made by the fountain pen, marvelling at how elegant his handwriting was. It was written by someone with a firm hand and a delicate touch, you imagined. Someone who was deliberate and kind and…

You shook your head. There was no sense in projecting your hopes of him on him, especially since you didn’t even know who he was.

Yet with only a slight feeling of embarrassment and some guilt, you lifted the stationery to your nose in a poor attempt to sniff out his cologne. All you smelled was expensive paper, and your whole body heated up when you realized how shameless you were a mere two seconds ago. Thank goodness Sana was busy and had no chance of bursting in.

You hid both letters inside your desk and opened your package, pretending that the past five minutes didn’t happen. The whole day was like that, pretending that you were cool, calm, collected when you really had the energy equivalent of five cups of black coffee coursing through your veins.

Sana came back with no new answers. At night, you drifted in and out of sleep, wondering who he was and how he would reveal himself to you.

As decided, you and Sana met up with Nayeon in the common room at 9:30 the following day. You yawned, regretting not taking any melatonin before you went to bed; you were tired from hours of unrestful sleep. Luckily, Nayeon, the driver, was in a much better state than you.

“I asked BamBam yesterday,” she said as she pulled out of the parking lot, “and he says it’s not him. I asked about his seal, and his is completely different.”

“He could be lying. What if he used someone else’s seal to trick Y/N?” Sana gasped.

“But why would he even do that? There wasn’t any seal on the first letter I got,” you replied. “It’s probably just a hint.”

“Ah! So he wants you to know who he is but is too shy to say it outright!” Sana declared. “But someone has to know. Is it too much if I post an ad in JYPaper?”

“Yes.” The school newspaper had many readers, and you didn’t want to be known as The Girl with the Secret Admirer again. “I don’t think they even allow things like that. We have at least three weeks to figure out who he is anyway.”

“Killjoy,” Sana pouted.

Soon, the three of you arrived in front of the boutique. As expected, the promise to buy only accessories for the masquerade was broken when Nayeon spotted an emerald green dress with lace details.

“Maybe I’ll wear this instead,” she wondered out loud. Before any of you could stop her, she grabbed it off the rack and brought it to the register, not even bothering to check the size.

You and Sana shared looks before heading over to the display of shoes. A cursory glance told you that none of them would match your dress the way you wanted. Despite that, you tried on a silver heel bedazzled with possibly real diamonds as Sana selected a black velvet pump. Nayeon returned with a brand new bag with the boutique’s name emblazoned on the front.

It was a similar experience at the other stores the three of you later visited. At least one of you would buy an unneeded item, while the main purpose of buying shoes for the masquerade was forgotten. The topic of your secret admirer, however, was not as lucky. At the end of the day, you had learned far too much about the Hwang family’s supposed seal, and Nayeon’s trunk was filled with shopping bags of various sizes and multicolored tissue paper. No progress was made.

“Y/N,” Sana started, her voice in an uncharacteristic lilt that typically meant she was going to ask for a favor, “can you take my bags too? Chan says he’s free now, and I want to ask him about the seal.”

“Can’t you just do it over text? I bet Chan wouldn’t mind,” you said. You threaded the handles of as many bags as you could through your arms. “You bought so many things.”

“If I do it in person, I’ll know if he’s lying or not.”

“He’s on the student council,” Nayeon pointed out. “We voted for him because he’s honest and trustworthy.”

“Please? He’s my friend, and I haven’t talked to him in ages,” she tried. For some strange reason, you couldn’t help but feel that it was a flimsy excuse for her not to take her fifteen bags back to the dorms.

“I’m your friend too,” you huffed. Despite your show of annoyance, you grabbed one of her bags as well. The last time she and Chan spoke face-to-face was two weeks ago, which was ‘ages’ since they usually had dinner together at least twice a week. “Fine. But he better know something useful.”

Sana lit up and eagerly waved goodbye. You called after her, “You’re treating me to dinner tomorrow!”

Nayeon added, “Me too!” as she picked up a black bag with gold ribbons for handles.

After three trips back and forth, Nayeon’s car was finally empty. Sana still had not returned, so the two of you went to the dining hall for a late night snack. Nayeon checked the “Who Could Y/N’s Secret Admirer Be?” list and read off the names still not crossed off.

(Apparently, Jeongyeon had created a spreadsheet and shared it with all the girls, so the list could be updated in real time. You were both surprised and not surprised at this news.)

“What about Felix?” she suggested. She flashed her phone screen at you, and Lee Felix had no strikethrough. “He’s a new transfer, so maybe that’s why no one recognizes the seal. Or maybe he doesn’t have a seal.”

You shrugged, more focused on the cheese platter on a nearby table. “Maybe,” you said, loading your plate with delicious morsels.

Nayeon mumbled something about your disinterest when food was in front of you, but she did the same. Chaeyoung, seated in a booth near a window with her own plate of cheese and crackers, waved you over.

“Rumor has it that your secret admirer is Lee Felix,” she said, forgoing a greeting.

Right beside you, Nayeon hissed, “See! I was right!”

“Someone saw him with some red roses last week, and your card did have a rose petal on it,” she continued. She nibbled on a small block of cheese as she looked for your reaction.

You chewed on your bottom lip. Was it really him? Was Lee Felix your secret admirer? You only knew him by a string of associations — Chan’s friend. Sana’s friend’s friend. He was pretty cute, you admitted.

“Maybe,” you replied, already thinking about his sharp jawline and the dusting of freckles across cheeks. “But only three more weeks until I find out.”

Sana had been acting strangely recently. She had started asking lots of specific questions about things you liked in guys. While you would have normally brushed this aside as Sana being Sana, she would follow up with questions like, “What do you think of this quality in a boyfriend?” Your answers were noncommittal, but she always smiled far too innocently and typed it on her phone. When your star-embroidered dress and its matching mask for the ball had arrived, a hint of a grin had appeared on her face. Then she had squealed, “He’ll love it!” and immediately clasped a hand over her mouth, like she had just told a huge secret. During the latest shopping trip with her and Nayeon — where you finally found a pair of heels you liked — Sana had smirked when the three of you unexpectedly ran into Chan and Felix, also shopping for the ball.

“Is it Lee Felix?” you asked moments after the boys were out of earshot.

She pretended not to hear you. “Hey, Nayeon, what do you think of that dress over there?”

You frowned, debating whether this meant it was Felix was not Felix. But it was clear that she knew something.

Weeks passed, and there was no new information about who your admirer could be. Much to your disappointment, Sana kept her lips sealed and tactfully changed topics whenever the masquerade was brought up.

Now that everyone was getting ready for the masquerade, she was dancing about you, deciding where to best place the decorative pins in your hair. You were fine with the situation earlier since you were waiting for Momo to finish Dahyun’s makeup, but Dahyun had been long gone.

“Here! No, here!” Sana selected a new location, deemed it not perfect, and took out the pin.

Momo, who had been patiently waiting to start on your makeup for a solid five minutes, gave you a sympathetic smile. “Sana, are you close to done yet?” she asked. “We’re going to be even later than we are now.”

“But she has to look perfect! She’s about to meet her secret admirer!”

The few girls present in the common room — where Momo had set up for the night — murmured in agreement.

Sighing, you snatched the handful of pins away from her and stuck them artfully into your curls. Or as artfully as you could in five seconds. It didn’t matter; they were shaped like stars, so they would look nice anyway. “There. Hair, check.”

After makeup was complete, Nayeon carefully tied your masquerade mask back, and Tzuyu held up a mirror for you. With Momo’s handiwork and half of your face covered, you barely recognized yourself. Your heart raced at the discovery; would he recognize you then? The letters he sent rested on your lap, and you absentmindedly touched the broken wax seal.

“All ready to go!” Sana cheerfully said. She pulled you up from your chair and linked arms with you. “Let’s find out who he is.”

Would it be Lee Felix, the top candidate among the girls, or someone who had gone by unnoticed? You gripped your skirts tighter in anticipation, and Sana slapped your wrist away in fear that you would wrinkle the fabric.

Downstairs, the ballroom was packed. Nayeon opened the double doors with bravado, and dozens of eyes looked in your direction. You thought everyone with their masks on looked like great horned owls staring you down, and you self-consciously adjusted yours, to Nayeon’s chagrin.

“What do I do?” you whispered to yourself. All the onlookers had returned to their own business, and you followed your friends through the crowd. “How do I even find him in all this?”

Nayeon had great hearing. “Red rose, remember?” she said. The baroque music nearly drowned out her answer. “He’s waiting with a red rose.”

“We’ll meet you by the punch table!” Sana shouted, already disappearing into the throngs of people. She grabbed Nayeon by the elbow, and you were left alone.

Stricken by the fact that you had no idea what to do and that your friends had basically ditched you, you stood in place. The letters were hidden in the folds of your skirt, and you repeatedly tapped on the sharp corner of the envelope to calm your anxiousness. You had imagined a Cinderella-like reveal, where the crowd would part and your prince would be waiting on the other end of the ballroom. Then he would reveal himself, and the two of you would dance the night away. Though in hindsight, the current situation was much more likely to happen.

You scanned the room, looking for any sign of red. Ties, dresses, masks, but not a single flower. Why was red such a popular color for masquerades?

“Y/N?” you heard to your left.

Eyes wide, you turned in that direction, only to see a boy with a rose in hand talking to a girl with a midnight blue feathered mask. Dahyun, you realized. Dahyun laughed and shook her head before pointing in your direction. Her and her eagle eyes, you gratefully thought.

The next part felt like a dream. Like a princess from a story, you picked up your skirts and walked up to him. It was him who was frozen in place now as you neared him. The background blurred as you focused solely on him, surreptitiously studying the exposed part of his face. His black mask blocked you from seeing his eyes, but the embarrassed smile was familiar.

“Hi,” he breathed, holding out the rose to you.

Heart beating, you took it and replied, “Hi.” After a beat, you blurted out, “Who are you?”

The smile turned into a grin, and you felt your cheeks growing hotter as you realized that his grin was just for you. Oh, he was cute. Or the lower half of his face was at least. “Don’t recognize me?”

“Should I?” You checked the broken seal on the second letter. Was there a secret message on there that you missed or something? It was still the floppy-eared dogs and what you learned from Jihyo’s research was eucalyptus branches.

“Wow, Sana actually didn’t tell you?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought she would have.”

“Sana? What does she have to do with this?”

“She’s a mutual friend of ours. She’s one of my closest friends too. We’ve known each other for years.”

Then, it all dawned upon you. Sana, who thought the seal looked familiar, who wanted to speak to an old friend in person, who looked like she had been hiding a secret from you during the past three weeks. Sana, who had fussed over your appearance, who left you in the center of the ballroom for no real reason.

“Chan?” you whispered.

“Yeah. Are you disappointed?”

“No! I’m just surprised! I didn’t think that— Everyone thought it would be Felix, so I… kind of believed it…”

“If you want to dance with Felix, then I can get him for you,” he quietly offered, his face falling.

You caught his sleeve before he could turn away, and you didn’t miss his shocked expression when you quickly said, “No! I want to dance with you. Really.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I’m sure. Please stay.”

You loosened your own mask and let it hang around your neck. Suddenly you felt shy now that all of your face was showing. You vaguely knew Chan from years of being friends with Sana, but this was a completely new experience and feeling.

“You look really beautiful,” he softly said. “I like the stars on your dress and in your hair.”

“You look handsome too,” you shyly replied. Sensing a possible awkward lull in the conversation, you asked, “So… why did you think Dahyun was me?”

He groaned and looked away. The tips of his ears matched the flower you were holding. “Sana told me your dress was dark blue, and Dahyun’s was blue as well.”

You smiled, remembering Dahyun loudly announcing that the common room wall was her date and that she would be matching with it for the ball.

“Did she tell you that I would be waiting here, too? She and Nayeon ditched me here.”

“Yeah,” he admitted. With a sudden burst of confidence, he stepped forward, his hands hovering around your waist. “She told me a lot of things, but especially about you.”

“Like what?” You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, and he jumped but pulled you closer nonetheless. The two of you began to sway to the music. “That I wake up in the afternoon on the weekends and she hates it because she has to tiptoe around?”

He laughed, and the lines around his eyes crinkled. “Yes, but other things as well. That you like stars and that you stayed up late to help her study for an exam even though you pulled an all nighter the night before.”

“Oh?” You remembered it, but you didn’t think she told anyone.

“Yeah. She made you sound unreal. I checked out the Astronomy Club booth in Fall Fest to meet you myself, but I got shy. You looked really pretty that day,” he added, making you blush. “And then I heard you and Seungmin talking about how many pies you guys had left, so I decided to help out.”

“By buying all of them.”

“Yeah. Kind of a stupid idea, now that I think about.”

“You definitely got my attention.” You rested your head on his shoulders and felt him sharply inhale. He relaxed soon after, and you continued with, “I couldn’t stop thinking about your card for weeks.”

“And I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he quietly replied, earning yet another blush from you.

He leaned closer, and you felt a breath get hitched in your throat until he whispered, “Not to alarm you or anything, but everyone’s watching us.”

A quick peek was all you needed to confirm his words. Dahyun was still lingering around, and Sana miraculously showed up, looking like the cat who swallowed the canary. Seungmin looked like he was giving Chan overly enthusiastic thumbs-ups.

“Do you wanna still wanna dance?” he mumbled. The music was loud enough that no one would be able to hear, but it was something intimate in a scene where the two of you were being gawked.

“Come with me,” you said.

“To wh— Oh!”

You slithered out of his hold and led him by the wrist through the crowd of onlookers to a more secluded spot near one of the giant windows in the hallway. Groups of people parted for you like the fairy tale scene you had imagined earlier. With your skirts flowing back and a handsome boy behind you, it certainly felt like a fairy tale. Once the two of you were alone, you leaned against the wall and looked up at him.

“So, who exactly is the guy beneath the mask?” you ask, pointing at him with the rose. “I wanna know more about him since he already knows so much about me.”

He pushed his mask up to his neatly combed hair and smiled at you, full dimples on display, galaxies in his eyes. “Just someone who thinks you’re a cutie pie.”

~ ad.gray

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