#i was more sad about buddy dying in the last stand than i think i would be here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

omiscurls · 3 years

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hi! (this request is heavily inspired by a kdrama i just watched called sweet home lmao) could i request a childe x gn reader fic where childe and the reader r both severely injured and the reader had to kill someone for self defense and as theyre running away the reader feeling super guilty is like “i’m so terrible i killed someone” and childe is trying to comfort them and they find a place to rest while being both on the verge of death and the reader is like “i killed someone, i’m so scared that it’ll be my last memory”and the childe is like “try to forget abt it it’s ok” and the reader is like “u don’t think abt either too” (yk implying like oh don’t think abt the ppl you’ve killed before childe, bc im assuming he’s killed a lot of ppl) and he’s like ok with a sad smile and they die together in each other’s arms holding hands?)/?:))2 help this is wayyy to detailed i’m sry but if u want the reference scene it’s from this video , they show the specific scene in time stamps 0:57-2:56 again i’m so sorry if this is too detailed or if u don’t wanna write it!!! tysm <3

memory

a/n oh my god that is just my kind of angst, thanks for the request and i hope you'll enjoy!!

prompt: honestly? dying with tartaglia (that sounds like a creepy tv show's title and i'm proud of it)

contains: tartaglia

warnings: angst, death, blood, major character death, self-blame, murder, more blood, really a lot of dying and bleeding, please do not proceed if you're not comfortable with the topics

adrenaline was probably the last string that had your body moving and functioning in any way. the blood in your veins made you deaf, only capable of noticing the sounds of it pumping behind your ears, head pulsing like a bomb about to explode.

your whole body shook, and you felt a metallic taste on your tongue, covering your mouth with your hand to prevent throwing up, which you predicted would happen in a matter of seconds.

"hey!" you finally heard childe yell, sounding distant even still, when you lifted your gaze away from the body before you and noticed he was standing fairly close. "come on, move, or his buddies" he said pointing to the lifeless man beneath you "might just come to get revenge"

with that he took your arm by the waist and pulled you along with him.

you stumbled over your own feet, and almost fell down every couple of minutes. your lungs started to burn after mere seconds, and you couldn't even find breath to tell him to slow down. you also knew he couldn't, having better self-preservation instincts than you, he understood the situation you two were in better.

fuck.

you looked behind you, to the spot where blood painted the grass red under a pile of dead bodies, some of your allies, some of your foes, but from this kind of distance, you couldn't even make out which one was which. your gaze fell down to your hands, covered in sticky redness as well.

you just killed somebody.

it wasn't even the consequences that frightened you, it was the sheer act of life leaving his eyes before he fell down, of his pupils staring at you in one last beg for mercy before freezing like that for the eternity ahead, for how his body seemed to have gained weight in a matter of seconds, almost pulling you down with him. the ringing in your head got more intense as you choked on a strained sob.

"they're dead" you breathed out, making your partner laugh sarcastically.

"good guess" he answered, his grip on your arm loosening as the both of you climbed up a hill.

"no, you don't understand, they're- dead dead! i- i didn't think i-" you stumbled over your words, panic settling in your eyes as you tried to comprehend the situation.

"what, you didn't think that if you pierce a person through with a blade they're gonna die?" he asked rhetorically, back almost slamming against a tree, sliding down to the ground with a breath of relief. "fuck, looks like i got pierced, too" he noticed, looking down onto his side, the grey material of his uniform getting dark and sticky. he hissed, trying to lift it up, and gave up on his attempts, instead opting to look at you.

you didn't sit down, but kept staring forward with the most frightened expression he had ever seen you wear. eyes wide open as you searched for answers in thin air, hands shaking, moving up to cover your mouth.

“hey” he whispered way gentler than before, urging you to sit down in front of him “it’s okay, it was only self-defense. you did kill them, but you didn’t murder them or anything, it was kill or be killed”

his words held so much confidence in what he was saying, you almost felt comforted. he really did master the art of bending the truth to his liking, didn’t he?

“i did it, what if he was someone’s father, or brother, or whoever else, what if i just destroyed someone’s world? he was a human being just as much as i am, i had no right-“ you started relapsing into panic, hands gripping on your hair, head moving down to hide between your legs.

only then did tartaglia notice the huge wound right across the back of your thigh, and several others. fuck, he instantly thought, whoever did it knew what he was doing, cut you in a very specific place, with intent to kill.

he couldn’t even fight back the wave of anger coming crushing at him, but bit his lip instead of saying anything. there was no way the both of you could get to a safe place in time.

he used to be so passionate about continuing to live, normally he would’ve just throw you over his shoulder and run, until his legs gave out, but now, he didn’t even have the energy to stand up. he barely could move his hand, and the more he tried to fight it, the more tired he became.

the feeling of helplessness was eating him alive, both from not having any way of providing you safety, and for not protecting you earlier, not to mention how he couldn’t find the right words to say to you now.

“listen” he started carefully, waiting for you to stop sobbing. “it’s painful, killing someone. it leaves a hole inside you that you don’t know how to cover. it makes your thoughts twist and fight back against you, it makes you want to leave your own head for how bad you feel. it sucks, believe me, i know. you didn’t deserve to have to feel this shitty. i’m- i’m sorry. for not shielding you well enough.” he said bluntly, not a hint of comfort or the usual beating around the bush that he used every time he intended to coax you. just pure, brutal truth. for once.

“it’s okay” you mumbled quietly. your head felt heavy on your shoulders, and you felt how it started to fall off its support. the numbness in your legs, this sort of stressful feeling of being constantly out of air- “i don’t want to die, though”

the sentence felt like a whimper, a cry of help, but tartaglia knew there was exactly nothing he could do.

“am i gonna die?” your voice felt a little stronger, laced with fear, and you lifted your eyes back onto him, in search of a “no” that you knew you wouldn’t find. “i’m gonna leave this world with killing a man as my last memory” you laughed bitterly, before laugh became a cry, and tears mixed with sweat on the surface of your cheeks. “that’s the worst fucking death i could ever imagine”

“baby, look at me” he asked calmly “come here”

when you moved to sit on his side, his hand, sticky from blood, intertwined its fingers with yours, and squeezed tightly.

“look. we’re sitting on a hill, under a tree, the sun is high up in the sky, a meadow below us, it’s a perfect date!” he laughed so authentically, you almost believed it was true. “we’re on a dream date, isn’t that amazing? and look.”

with that, he tilted your head towards his, and kissed you softly and shortly.

“i love you.” he said in the calmest manner he could force out “is that a better memory?”

you placed your head on his side, attempting to hug him even a little bit, tears staining his uniform even more.

“i don’t want to leave you.”

“i’ll be right behind you. guarding your back, like i always do. after all, i promised to always protect you, right? death won’t change my plans.”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #childe x reader #genshin boys #childe angst #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #genshin imagines

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nicka-nell · 3 years

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HQHQ Collab - First Choice

Pairing: Atsumu x reader, mention of Bokuto

Words: 6.822

Warning: mention of unnamed cheating ex-boyfriend, angst if you squint really hard, fluff, friends to lovers

Beta-reader: thank you for beta reading the fic @xmyshya

Summary: You’ve been living with your best friend for a few weeks, crying to him about your ex-boyfriend cheating on you. But Atsumu no longer wants to see you sad and offers himself as Wingman once more when he tries to set you up with his teammate.

This story is part of our HQHQ server collab with the prompt: When will I be someone’s first choice? Tell me, when? You can find the other stories here. So check out all the other wonderful writers.

“Y/n now go on and get up!” Atsumu’s loud voice wakes you up. With swollen eyes you turn to him, your hair still ruffled, left and right of you lie the crumpled handkerchiefs with which you have cried yourself quietly and secretly into sleep.

You’re tired, your head hurts, and Atsumu’s loud babbling doesn’t help your headache to settle. Reluctantly you pull your blanket over your head, but in vain. Because even before you can get used to the darkness and the warmth underneath, to the calm without the voice of the dyed blond-haired man, he pulls the coat off your body with a jerk and confronts you with the cold morning air, through the open window in your room.

“Tsumu, you idiot, give me the blanket back!” You whine, but he doesn’t even think about it. “Why does your bed look like a mess again? It’s been two months, and you’re still crying after this asshole? It’s enough with moping around.” Before he can finish his sentence, you can feel his hands curling around your ankles and how your legs were jerking forward, setting your entire body in motion.

“Tsumu what are you doing?” You scream and try to hold on to the upper edge of the bed. For a few seconds you manage to resist his tug, but you soon realize that he is stronger than you.

But Atsumu has apparently forgotten to calculate that you would let go and pulls you off the bed with so much momentum that you both land on the floor.

“Ah, Tsumu you airhead! Now my ass and feet are hurting. Why did you do this?” You want to know while you’re rubbing your butt, which you landed on a few seconds ago. Sulking, you look over to your best friend, who is also sitting on the floor, supporting his weight on hands behind his back.

“Sorry, I forgot how weak you are.” He teases you with a grin. “But you seem to be awake now, eh?”

“Yeah, awake and angry…” You quickly add to his statement and look at him with a wrinkled forehead. “Don’t look so evil. That wannabe look doesn’t suit you. I told you before, if you want to talk, I’m just a room away. No need to cry yourself to sleep.”

Even if he annoyed you earlier, you realize in his words that he’s worried about you. It’s been two months since you saw your boyfriend… No Ex-boyfriend with another girl. Just “saw them” is wrong. He had kissed her, touched her, and you were sure that if you hadn’t confronted them directly, more would have happened.

Atsumu was there for you, caught you with open arms and told you that everything would be fine. Because that’s how he always was. Back then, when the kids at school had teased you, when the girls had blasphemed you because you had always gotten along better with the boys. He was also the one who comforted you at your first lovesickness.

Ironically, you had a crush on his brother, who at the time had no thought of such trifles as love. The first time you were really in love with someone, it was Atsumu who tried to set you up with that person. Because it was none other than his volleyball teammate Suna who had twisted your head.

The fake blonde had really tried everything to make you as interesting as possible for Suna, had always invited you and Suna to ‘learn’ and then left the room for hours to leave you alone. But in the end, it didn’t work out because Suna told you he had feelings for another girl.

When your heart broke into thousands of pieces for the first time, it was Atsumu who had carefully tried to pick up all the shards and cautiously glue them back to the right place. He was always there for you. And even though you know what your heart wants, you shut yourself away from it. Because Atsumu is your best friend. The man who will always stand behind you to give you a push forward so you can finally find your happiness. Without him.

“That’s enough sulking! What do you say you come to practice with me today? Get to know my teammates and friends? Maybe there’s someone in there who piques your interest, eh?” He grins mischievously and wiggles his eyebrows before he straightens up and stretches his hand forward to help you up.

“Mhm… You’re not gonna leave me alone before I say yes anyway, are you?” You mumble as he pulls your body upward.

He still grins as he nods and lets go of your hand just to bring it to your hair. “But before that… you go take a shower and make sure that this nest on your head becomes the normal beautiful hair you actually have. All right?” He laughs as he pulls a scrap of a handkerchief out of your hair.

Oh God, how embarrassing you think and at the same moment you have to laugh. No matter what you look like, even if you are wrinkled, with greasy hair, mustard stains on your top and swollen eyes, Atsumu still likes you. After all, he sees you as a buddy.

“Well, I guess… I’m gonna get ready. Can you make breakfast, Tsumu?”

“Are you nuts? There is no more time for breakfast. I can heat the last slice of pizza from last night’s movie.”

“Oh, you’ll be such a good husband someday, Tsumu.” You answer him sarcastically as you shake your head and pass Atsumu.

“Sure, and you eventually become a good wife Y/n.” He calls after you, but you already lift your middle finger and slam the door behind you with a smile on your face. “Tze… Tsumu you idiot.”

The knife slices the butter with ease as Atsumu greases the butter on a toasted slice of bread to put your favorite cold cuts on top. Because he was just joking. Your first meal shouldn’t be a piece of old pizza.

When you’re with Atsumu, you forget all the things that made you sad. You’re happy and glad to have such a good friend by your side. And even though you said it sarcastically earlier, you still meant it like this, that he would make a woman very happy. Just with the thought of him and another woman, you feel a short sting in your chest, but you are sure that deep down you have to think about your ex-boyfriend and that you still miss him.

“Ready to go! Give me that slice of pizza or I’ll eat your friends.” You shout out to Atsumu as you enter the hallway through the doorstep. Once in there, you can hear his muffled voice calling out to you while his voice comes closer and closer.

It is only a second where Atsumu stops in the doorway, looks at you before he continues his walk and pushes the slice of bread and an apple into your hand. “I can’t let you smell like tuna and garlic the first time you met my friends.”

With rolling eyes you take the bread from him, push it into your mouth before putting on your thin cardigan and place the apple in your jacket pocket. According to your phone, the weather today is anything but cool and gray.

But just as you want to pull your zipper up, you feel something heavy landing on your shoulders, looking confused from left to right before your gaze sweeps up from the yellow fabric on your shoulders to the fake blond-haired man.

You don’t need words, your gaze is filled with the question of why he gave you his jacket. But again he just lay down his arms against his hips, grins casually. “Well, you’re with me or not? Not that they’ll think you’re a paparazzo at the gym entrance and not let you in.”

With the words ‘you’re with me,’ your heart gives a beat. “Don’t you think your friends will think we’re together, Tsumu? That this is more such a friend-girlfriend thing?”

The entire car ride is quiet, but it’s not an unpleasant silence. Only the radio rattles quietly, while Atsumu complains about the careless drivers or cyclists, and that there is never a parking space in front of the gym.

“Ah, don’t talk such nonsense. You can tell we’re just friends, you dummy.” Another bang, no stab, making your chest heavier. “Sure… right.” You just mumble quietly. So quietly that Atsumu cannot understand it as you breathe in the fine fragrance of his harsh deodorizer as you walk past him and leave the flat.

You have to admit you’re a little nervous standing outside the hall with Atsumu. You can hear voices from inside. Probably his friends. As if Atsumu understood your feelings, he puts his arm over your shoulder to give you more security, and enters the room freshener smelling hall with you.

It doesn’t take long for all eyes to be on you until the first person beckons Atsumu and the next one goes on you. A boy with orange hair that you remember very well. Atsumu’s school team had a game against him. They lost and Atsumu was talking to you for weeks about how he wanted to play with this little boy sometime.

Behind him stands a dark-haired man, hands in the pockets of his jacket, while he lingers in place, watching you only from a distance. That should be Sakusa. The guy Atsumu always talks about, how clean and special he is when it comes to hygiene.

Just when you want to turn to Hinata again, as he is still waving towards you, another man runs towards you at an incredible speed, shaking your hand vigorously with sparkling eyes. Your whole body is shaking, you’re getting headaches, but somehow you find his overactive anticipation cute.

“Hey, hey, hey! I‘m Bokuto Koutarou! I’m a super ace and I’m really successful!” He grins proudly, which makes you giggle. Of course he is. After all, he plays in the same team as Atsumu.

Yet Bokuto does not remain long in his proud posture. His shoulders collapse after a few seconds, while his gaze wanders to Atsumu. “Hey, Tsum-Tsum, why didn’t you tell me you were coming with your girlfriend today?” He wants to know from the fake blonde one.

Irritated, you look over to Bokuto, wanting to clear up the misunderstanding as the voice of an older man interrupts you. “Miya, the next time you bring someone, please report this to me first. Now, warm up and let’s start training.” The man you consider to be the coach says to Atsumu, who nods in agreement before pointing at a bench where you should sit, before he goes to warm up with Bokuto and Hinata.

Although you talk little to people, you’re not bored watching them train. It pleases you to see how everyone is with full passion. From time to time the man who introduced you as Bokuto grins at you, waving a little awkwardly before Atsumu admonishes him and turns his attention away from you. He’s kind of cute.

“Oh Tsumu…” you mumble quietly while chuckling unconsciously as you watch Atsumu reprimand Bokuto for being so easily distracted, and how Bokuto lets his shoulders drop apologetically.

“You seem to have had a lot of fun today, eh?” The question is rhetorical, because of course you did. He recognized that in your face. With the rest of yesterday’s pizza and a salad with smoked tofu, he sits down next to you at the dinner table.

The training passes, and your attention on Bokuto grows. First a few glimpses you exchange, then words and sentences, up to such long dialogues that he completely forgets his break and is called back to the playing field by Atsumu to finally finish the training.

“You could have introduced me to your friends earlier. Especially Bokuto. He’s kind of cuddly.” You babble while you are in your thoughts about the cheerful man.

“So, so… Bokuto, huh? Looks like I got a new job as a wingman, eh? Give me a few days to figure something out. Operation Lovebirds begins.” His eyes are narrow and playful, while his face is only a few inches away from yours.

As Atsumu had said, a few days pass. Days in which you were always at his training, always with the yellow jacket which makes you feel much safer and more comfortable. Days when you often talk to Bokuto during breaks.

Your heart gives a quick blow as the warmth of his breath hits your lips. From the excitement? Excitement to see Bokuto again soon, right? With an unnaturally bright laugh, you slap him on the shoulder, turn to the pizza, before you both go to your own rooms and get ready for bed.

Atsumu has the idea to take Bokuto to Osamu’s store, like he’s doing almost every Saturday to eat together. Sometimes the other teammates come with him, but this time he will only ask Bokuto.

He wants to lure him to the store and write to him shortly before, so that he has no time. You would sit already in the store and then pretend after a few minutes as if you had randomly noticed Bokuto. You could eat, talk and maybe even exchange your numbers. The idea was perfect.

As agreed, you sit at a table near the kitchen, looking at the menu while watching Bokuto from the corner of your eye. How he reaches for his cell phone and how his cheerful look is slowly getting sad, because he probably reads the message from Atsumu that he will not come.

You consider going straight to him, but your vibrating phone prevents you from it. A message from Atsumu with the words ‘Mission lovebirds can begin’. An unconscious grin spreads across your face as you read the message before a voice makes you shrink.

“Has someone also dumped you?” You hear Bokuto’s sad voice and make a brief shout when you see him standing right next to you. “Bokuto!”

You laugh a lot, seem to have a lot of fun and get along great. At least that’s what Atsumu can see from his brother’s kitchen. Because of course he didn’t want to miss out on seeing if you two really come along well with each other.

“Ah! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you! Uh… mind if I sit here?” He asks clumsily, pointing to the free chair opposite of you. Nodding, you invite him to sit down before quickly putting your phone in a pocket and start talking to Bokuto.

“Why are you here, Tsumu?” His brother’s voice makes him look away from you.

“Eh? What do you mean, Samu? I want to see if I’m successful with my mission.”

“Sure, stop lying to yourself.” Osamu quietly talks to his twin while he continues to prepare the Onigiri for his guests. But his brother doesn’t answer him, just looks out of the round kitchen window at the table where you talk to Bokuto with a smile on your face.

“You know I didn’t reject Y/n back then because I had no interest in girls. So finally get some balls in your pants.” With a full plate of Onigiri, Osamu crosses his twin, passes the plate to his server at the counter, before he enters the kitchen without a word.

“If she’s happy, I’m happy for her too. Why don’t you understand, Samu?” He now turns his gaze away from you, instead looking at the unfinished rice that Osamu had prepared for the next order. It annoys him that his brother has to address this topic again and again. It’s not up to Atsumu to decide what you want. After all, it’s up to you.

“So? So you don’t mind if I invite her on a date if it doesn’t work out with Bokuto? As long as she’s happy, it shouldn’t be a problem for me to taste her lips.” He deliberately tries to provoke his brother, and for a split second he sees Atsumu twitching his eyes, his cheekbones sticking out from his clenched teeth before looking his brother in the eye.

“If that’s what makes her happy. Then make her happy, damn it, understand?”

“What the hell, what’s wrong with you, Tsumu!” His brother yells at him, furiously stomping to him and grabbing him by his collar. He expected such an answer, but not this flat, indifferent response, which is supposed to hide Atsumu’s feelings.

Atsumu also grabs his twin by the collar, pushes him away from himself and continues the scramble. Again and again he tries to explain to him it is not Osamu’s problem and he should not interfere in his things and anew Osamu tries to convince him to finally listen to his feelings. Plates fall over, knives that lay on the work surface as the voice of the server stops the two men.

“Eh… I’m sorry, but at table four, the lady was asking what was in the spring drink because of her allergies.” Both let off from each other while Atsumu’s steps carry him quickly back to the round window to look at your table. Because he’s irritated that you’re asking that question.

The fake blond man hardly notices the voices of the two men in the kitchen. His heart suddenly beats restlessly. A young girl your age sat next to you and Bokuto. Atsumu’s plan to set you up with Bokuto seems to be failing.

“Nobody ditched me, Bokuto. Actually, I just wanted to drop by and leave Osamu a nice greeting when it becomes a bit quieter here. But it always seems to be full here.” You lie because you wouldn’t even have come here without this plan from Atsumu.

He feels bad that a small part of him hopes Bokuto finds the other girl interesting, but Atsumu quickly talks himself up that he just wants you to be happy.

With a quick beating heart you hope that Bokuto does not see through your lie, but when he smiles at you, you are sure that he believes you.

“Oh sure, right! If you know one Miya brother, you automatically have the other on your back, don’t you? Especially when you’re so close.” He grins, and his words remind you of the incident in the gym. There, Bokuto said something similar. He wrongly portrayed you as girlfriend and friend, which was certainly due to Atsumu’s jacket. And just as you were about to correct him there, their trainer babbled something into the room.

You definitely need to clarify that you two are just friends, otherwise you can’t ask Bokuto for his number. Just friends…

“Uh Bokuto? I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Tsumu and I-”

“Y/n? Oh my God, is that you?”

Again, someone interrupts you. This time not Atsumu’s coach or Atsumu, but a person you haven’t seen for ages. Your old school friend, who was with you at the same club and with whom you really got along well.

Because of your ex-boyfriend, your paths somehow separated, but you’re thrilled to see her now. “Oh Mei, is it you? You’ve really changed, wow.” You smile at her before you greet her and sit down again.

“I don’t want to bother you guys, and I’m sure that’s rude, but is it okay if I join you? If I annoy you, I’ll leave!”

Mostly you’re just here to get a date with Bokuto, but sending her away now would be too suspicious. For a moment you think about how to best handle this situation, but Bokuto takes the decision off you by inviting her to join you and just stay as long as she wants.

You talk partly to Mei, partly to Bokuto for a while when you check if Atsumu has written anything to you. You’re surprised he hasn’t asked you how the date goes. Is he on a date right now himself?

“Y/n? Did you hear?” Mei’s voice gets you out of your mind again, before you look at her absent-minded. “I have to go now, but… I was really happy to see you again and I hope we can repeat that soon. And I was also pleased to meet you Bokuto.” She adds, before she smiles at you both and goes to the counter to pay her bill and leave the bar.

Just when Bokuto wants to say something, his phone rings and he apologizes to you for a moment. You take the opportunity to write to Atsumu, ask him if you should take some Onigiri with you from his brother’s shop and hope for a hint if he had a date. Because if he doesn’t want some Onigiri, he sure is having dinner with another woman.

Two minutes go by, four… Ten minutes until Bokuto comes back in, and you feel your phone vibrating at the same moment. A simple “No, I’ve already eaten.” is his answer. An answer that suddenly makes you feel so weird.

“I’m so sorry I kept you waiting. Akaashi, my best friend, called me. I have to see him. Is it okay if we postpone our meeting for another time? So… I mean this random meeting.” He smiles embarrassed, and scratches the back of his head as he puts his jacket around his shoulders and shoves the chair back to the table.

“Oh hm? Sure. I would be happy to meet you again Bokuto!” You answer him enthusiastically, even if you’re still on Atsumu’s date in your mind. Did he really go out with a girl? Why do you not know her? Why didn’t he tell you?

“Perfect! So, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow?”

“Sure, I’ll be there.”

“Then let’s talk about some meetings during my break. I’ll go to Samu and pay the bill for us.”

“Wa-!” You want to stop him, pay your own bill but Bokuto already stamps away from you and knocks on the kitchen door to lure Osamu out and pay.

He doesn’t know how fast he ran to be home before you. Good thing he didn’t tell you about the shortcut, or you’d have run into each other. Fully sweaty, he jumps into the shower, trying to get the smell of Osamu’s kitchen out of his hair as he hears your voice dull from the hallway in the bathroom.

Together you leave the restaurant, but then go your separate ways. Although this is not the first time you walk this path, even though you don’t need twenty minutes on the way, it seems like an eternity to you. Absorbed in your thoughts, you kick a round stone along the sidewalk, burying your hands in your trouser pockets while watching it roll. The long gray road matching gray walls on the sidewalk, no car to see. Everything is dreary and you feel odd, but also happy at the same time. After all, Bokuto seems as interested in you as you are in him. You can quickly overlook the fact that Atsumu is probably on his own date right now.

“Tsumu? Are you home airhead?”

Hissing, he shakes his head, rubs his towel through his wet hair, ties it around his hip and glances into the mirror before he goes out.

“Tsumu! Put some damn clothes on!”

“I’m also pleased to see you. Got my clothes in the bedroom. Don’t worry, I’ll put something on. But first, how was your date?” The question was unnecessary. Of course he knew, because he was there, watching you. But you don’t know that.

Atsumu studies how you dance on your tiptoes, how you swing your body forward and backward, and tap your lower lip. You always do that when you’re nervous. But before he can even give another thought to you, your body moves forward in his direction.

Just a few seconds pass when your soft skin lies on his, your arms wrap around his neck and you hug him. Atsumu stops as if petrified. Because his heart beats fast, your body so close to his triggers so much in him.

Carefully, he pushes you away from his chest, hoping you didn’t hear his raging heart. Yet, your arms remain on his neck, your warmth on him, although this on his chest slowly fades.

Lovingly you look at him, a look that gives him an unknown sting. An expression that you would probably turn to a big brother, otherwise he cannot interpret it. But he cannot look away from your warm eyes. Those bright, happy eyes that captivate him.

“The date was really great and tomorrow at the training we want to make a new one! Bokuto is such an incredibly great guy, and he is so funny. He made me laugh so many times and it’s sweet how emotional he always is and ah! He is really fine. Thank you for introducing him to me.”

Silently you look each other in the eyes, speak with your eyes instead of words. Subconsciously, your fingers move, gently stroking his neck up and down, while your sugar-sweet laugh makes Atsumu even crazier.

His body acts on its own as it bends forward, coming to a halt just in front of your face. But his mind quickly catches up with his body, for his words wander down your cheek to your ears as he whispers to you quietly that he is happy for you.

“So mission complete, eh?” With a mischievous grin, he tries to distract you from his previous action, patting on your shoulders with his hands before he walks past you and strolls towards his room door.

“I’m gonna put some clothes on. You should take a shower and get some sleep. You stink and need your beauty sleep for Bokuto tomorrow.”

“Haha, very funny! I love you too, you idiot.”

Days go by when you talk to Bokuto a lot. At training, to the detriment of everyone else, eating ice cream after training or just sitting around in the park and doing nothing. You get along well, laugh a lot, talk a lot about his buddies - Akaashi and Atsumu. After your dates you always tell Atsumu how much fun you had and are sure that you deafen his ears with your Bokuto-talk.

Words that come so easily out of your lips, for they are meant amicably. Words that are so easy to understand, but leave a bitter heavy feeling in his heart.

Today you both sit on a wall in the park again, fooling around like good friends. For a moment your shoulders brush against each other, when Bokuto twitches and stares embarrassed down at you. You too feel your body getting more restless, out of balance as you look into his golden yellow eyes. Both of you are silent, always opening your mouth to say something, but then close it again.

“So, eh… Do you… remember our first random meeting? In Osamu’s store?” Bumpy, he tries to find the right words, starts playing with the moss growing between the grooves of the stone wall.

Your chest suddenly stops moving. Out of panic you hold your breath because you are afraid that he has found out that Atsumu is behind this coupling action.

“I was wondering if… Well, there was your school friend there, and I was wondering if maybe you could… could give me her number?”

“Her number?” You realize how anger slowly boils in you, how an unpleasant feeling rages in your body and you suddenly feel so uncomfortable and stupid. With a bitter hiss you laugh up, turn your face away from Bokuto so that he cannot see your sparkling eyes. Eyes that don’t sparkle with joy, no. Eyes that sparkle with tingling tears and leave small wet spots, like those of rain, on the stone wall below you.

Of course he wanted her number, of course he did. After all, it was always like this. Whether it was Osamu or Suna, your ex boyfriend or any other man you found cute or attractive. You were always the second choice. You were always good as a friend, but not good enough as a girlfriend. There was always another who came before you, who had taken the place that you had so longingly aspired to. It was always like this.

So why did you think things should be different with Bokuto right now? Did you really think there was a man who had only you in his mind? A man who adores you as much as you do him?

“Why all the dates Bokuto? Why did you invite me to all those dates, get my hopes up if you only wanted my friend’s number, anyway? Why...? Never mind, forget it!” You sniff and jump off the wall to get out of here as soon as possible. Only Bokuto remains, sitting on the wall in confusion, trying to understand your last words.

With his cell phone in his hand, Atsumu scrolls through your messages, through your enthusiastic and joyful words about Bokuto while lying on the couch, the free hand behind his head. On the table is the last bit of a spinach-garlic pizza he ordered shortly after you went on your date with Bokuto. His thumb stops at a note in which you jokingly wrote to him that you also love him when he teased you with your crush on Bokuto. Words that hurt more every day, the longer you stay at Atsumu’s flat.

“Get your hopes up? H- Hey, Y/n wait!” He calls you, but your silhouette gets smaller and smaller. You’re not thinking of turning in his direction again.

His gaze is focused on his cell phone, the thumb still on that one message as a new message covers it. Irritated, he looks at the name of his teammate, who sends him one message after the other. Although he hasn’t read the messages yet, he has a bad feeling. He doesn’t know if it’s worry or something else, but he must think of you directly as he opens the messages with shaky fingers and straightens up on the sofa.

>> Tsumu-Tsumu! Get on your phone! I think I screwed up! I thought Y/n is your girlfriend and today something weird happened, and! I screwed up, man. Tell her I- <<

Atsumu is still reading Bokuto’s incoming messages, can hardly keep up with them when the loud banging of the front door makes him startled. As if he has just been caught in something forbidden, he throws his cell phone in panic behind the couch and looks in the direction of the living room door in which you suddenly stand.

Your eyes are red, nose runny, and your words come to him only as a loud sob. In him everything hurts at this sight of you.

“Tsumu!” You sniff and want to make a step forward to your best friend, but Atsumu is faster. He takes you in his arms as you press your head against his warm chest. His fingertips glide slowly through your hair, calming you while his grip around your waist becomes firmer.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” His words that softly kiss your ears calm you down. He knows exactly that there is no point in questioning you now, because you are still too busy collecting yourself again. So he just keeps silent, caresses your head and listens to you as your sniffing gets less and less, your fast, hasty breathing gets calmer and calmer.

“You want to tell me what happened?” His muscular arm loosens easily from your waist, his hand stroking you, now raises your head and makes you look at him. With a loving smile, he wipes away your tears, puts his arms on your shoulders and waits for your answer.

Hard you breathe out, try to pull yourself together, but your voice remains shaky.

“Bokuto… He just wanted her number… He didn’t care about me.” You notice how your voice becomes unclear again, begins to tremble more and your sniffing is again to take over your voice. But Atsumu’s thumb, which caresses your shoulders, calms you down again and you try to spell your words back into clear sentences.

“He wasn’t interested in me. At least not so… Tsumu, it’s like that every time. Men always fall in love with other women. I’m always just the third wheel. Am I that ugly? Am I so unattractive that every man sees me as a buddy? Tsumu… When will I be someone’s first choice? Tell me, when?”

Your eyes glittering with tears, search for his eyes. His heart breaks with the sad look you give him. And although the answer to your question is on his lips, he would like to scream it out of himself, yet a big lump sticks to his neck and keeps him silent.

“Tsumu when?” Is the only thing that comes out of you broken, now that not even your best friend can give you an answer to that question.

It was probably his fault you’re so sad now. Because Bokuto didn’t mention that school friend of yours once. He probably only said that because he thought you were Atsumu’s girlfriend and he didn’t want to destroy the friendship of the two men.

It was Atsumu’s fault that when he introduced you to his team, he didn’t make it right that you weren’t his girlfriend. The fake blond had not done this on purpose. His words just didn’t want to come out of him back then. Only later he had understood why he had tried to make his friends believe that you are his girlfriend.

He’d have to answer his cell phone, read Bokuto’s messages to be one hundred percent sure he wasn’t serious about your school friend, but his body isn’t moving. Actually, he can’t move anyway, because you clenched your hands into fists and clutched them into his shirt.

Atsumu should set it right. But in him, Osamu’s voice pushes forward. The words Atsumu wanted to deny. ‘You’re in love with her… Stop lying to yourself… Finally, get some balls in your pants.’

Not even your best friend can answer your question. How could he if he met with others every time you were with Bokuto? But even though it hurts that Bokuto rejected you, it hurts more that Atsumu doesn’t give you an answer.

With a sad sigh, you push his hands off your shoulders and set your legs in motion to go to your bedroom and be alone. But you can’t take many steps, because Atsumu holds you to your wrist just to turn you back to him.

Slowly, without strength and without joy, you look up to him. In his face, which shows so many emotions at once, yet he tries to hide them all from you. You notice how he struggles with his words, not knowing how to begin. His grip on your arm gets tighter. It almost hurts, but you say nothing.

“You… You have always been… my first choice.” He says hesitantly, in such an uncertain tone which is unlikely for him. His words are so quiet that you don’t understand them, just look at him questioning.

“Y/n, you have always been and always will be my first choice. Shit, I know I’m gonna ruin our friendship with this, but I can’t do this anymore. I’m selfish, yes, I know. I didn’t correct the statement when Bokuto said that you were my girlfriend because I didn’t want to see you with someone else who would just hurt you again. Y/n I can’t see you sad anymore. I don’t want to see you like this anymore. It just doesn’t work anymore. Ever since you’ve began living here, swinging your sweet little ass around my apartment, eating with me, spending evenings, and almost all days, I can’t think of anything but seeing you as more than just a buddy. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you? Shit, you airhead, I love you.”

His words become clearer and clearer, on the contrary to his expression. Then, as his tone becomes firmer, his gaze becomes more anxious. And now you understand. You always wanted the perfect boyfriend. Wanted to have a man by your side who loves you, who Atsumu gets along with since he is your best friend and had never noticed that he was always your second choice.

You always wanted someone who liked your friends, who understood you, and that person was always at your side. You knew why Bokuto’s words didn’t hurt you as much as Atsumu’s silence a few minutes earlier. You knew why you enjoyed wearing Atsumu’s jacket, and you knew why it didn’t bother you that Atsumu had not corrected the statement, and so the rumor arose that you two were a couple. Also you knew why you wanted to convince yourself that Atsumu met other women to not feel bad about going out with one of his friends. You knew, but you never wanted to face it. Because like Atsumu, you were afraid of losing the person you needed most.

You open your mouth soundlessly. If you say nothing now, you are sure that the man in front of you will immediately lose his temper with excitement and fear.

Although you have said the words many times, your heart is racing like crazy, your belly is tingling and your chest is almost painfully contracting. You’re nervous, nervous like when you had to introduce yourself to the big class full of people.

“I love you too, you idio-” Before you can finish your sentence, the warm lips of Atsumu, which lie gently on yours silence your last words. Full of pleasure you give a quiet whimper, trying to calm your loud throbbing heart in vain. Because your body burns, trembles, is numb and awake at the same time. Your thoughts are going crazy.

Atsumu also gives a relieved sigh, almost as if a huge load has fallen from his shoulders. His arms quickly wrap around your cheeks, stroking your face while his lips open a little and you feel his wet tongue on your mouth. You have the feeling that your body has just gotten warmer, reducing the last distance between you and giving off a gasp as you also open your mouth slightly to allow him to enter. His hand, which stroked your cheek earlier, seeks its way to the back of your head to bury itself in your hair and pull your head back a bit to kiss you better.

For a moment your tongues dance together, your bodies almost link as you interrupt your kiss and look into Atsumu’s excited face. His cheeks are reddish, lips slightly puffed up from your kiss, while his breath lands warm on your body.

“What’s the matter Y/n?” He whispers hoarsely, the expression slightly playful. But you just look at him with a slightly silly grin.

“Did you eat garlic, Tsumu?”

For a moment he looks at you, as if a fuse blew through him. He’s thinking about what you meant by that, before he starts sulking while stretching his head backwards, so that he’s looking at the ceiling.

“Ah shit, if I had known I’d tell you that I love you, that we would be kissing, I would have bitten into a rose and not into a pizza with extra garlic.”

Laughing, you put your head on his chest, looking up at him while he continues to stare at you sulking. “Is there still a slice, bunny?”

“One piece, but it’s already bitten, babe.” He grins and reminds you of all the nights you two sat on the sofa watching series and arguing about who gets the last piece of food. Once Atsumu had licked the last piece and thus reserved it for himself, sometimes you were faster. You were acting like toddlers, but you were having an incredible time. You just had fun with him, always.

“Your tongue was watching if all my teeth were still in my mouth a few seconds ago. Do you think it bothers me that the pizza piece is bitten?”

“Guess not. But give your sexy boyfriend a last stinky kiss. Okay?” He smirks and sharpens his lips playfully to tease you and brings his arms around your body so that you can’t escape. Only so you press his lips away from you, laughing until Atsumu finally gives you a fleeting kiss and you act as if you faint and lean against his chest.

Your loud laughter resounds through the room and your hands do not let go of the other until you are quiet and enjoy the moment in silence.

“I love you Y/n. You, my first choice.” He whispers to you as he gives you one last kiss on your crown.

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya x reader #hqhq server collab

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spine-buster · 3 years

Text

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | four

A/N: This one is an emotional one. Please be prepared. Content warnings are below.

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); parent death; swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

* * * * *

Brock was wiping Grace’s tears as he stood in between her legs as she sat on the counter. She had come over to his house crying after an appointment at the hospital with her dad’s neurologist. There was no good update. There was no bad update. There was just an update. “Things are progressing at the rate they’ve always been progressing,” the doctor had told her. “We’ll see how long the pureed foods last. He’s been doing well with that, but as you know it will have to switch as some point to tube feedings.”

“I just want so much more time with him,” Grace cried into Brock’s shoulder, clinging to his body with every limb she had. Brock pulled her away slightly so he could look her in the eye and wipe the tears that were streaming down her face himself. “There was still so much he wanted to do. So much I wanted to do with him. He—he’s accepted his fate, but it also breaks his heart.”

Brock’s heart was heavy. He wrapped his arms around her again and held her close against his body, placing small reassuring kisses on her neck and whispering to her over and over again that everything would be okay. In reality, the both of them knew it wouldn’t be. Hamish was dying. He was dying a slow death. But both of them also knew it was exactly what Grace needed right now – to be held, to have her tears wiped away, to be told everything was going to be alright. It was one of the things she loved most about Brock, that he always knew what to do and what to say to her.

“I love you,” he whispered into her ear tenderly.

“I love you too, Brock,” Grace whispered back. “I love you so much.”

As Brock stood in the kitchen with Grace’s limbs wrapped around him, he thought about his dad. He thought about Duke holding his hand as they watched football together. He thought about Duke sipping on water from a straw, angry that he couldn’t have a beer like his buddies around him (his buddies would eventually stop drinking beer in front of him). He thought about helping his dad get dressed, making his bed, helping him in and out of chairs or sofas. He thought about his dad with Coolie and Milo and how much he loved them.

Brock started crying too.

***

“You alright dad?” Grace asked as she gripped her father’s hand, watching him as he sat down on his bed in his brand new pajamas she bought him. He nodded his head before sitting. “Okay, let me help you with your legs.”

She bent down in front of him, seeing that he had already lifted them off the ground before she grabbed them gently and brought them on top of the bed. He shifted his own body further into the mattress, and she made sure to fluff up his pillows before he really set his head on them. “There you go,” she said, grabbing at the blanket bunched up at his feet. She brought it up and draped it over his body, making sure he was snug in his bed. She looked down at him once more. “Sleep tight, dad.”

He said nothing. Instead, he grabbed her hand. Grace looked down at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Why’re you so scared, sweetheart?”

Grace almost burst into tears right then and there. But she knew she had to stay strong for her dad, because he hated seeing her cry. He probably wouldn’t sleep for the night if she did. “I’m just scared for the day I’m going to wake up and you won’t be here anymore,” Grace admitted to him. Even though the doctor’s appointment didn’t necessarily bring her any good or bad news, these thoughts had been rampant in her mind ever since. She only ever expressed them to Brock. Sometimes to Svea. “I know the day has been coming since I was fourteen and I’m still not prepared for it.”

“You’re…a smart girl, Gracie,” he said. “Even with me gone…you will…still be able to do…everything that you want to. Dance. Have a family. Be a mom.”

Grace nodded her head. “I know I will. I just don’t know if it will be as special if you’re not here to see me do all that. Especially become a mom. Because you know how much I want to be a mom but it’s—you’d be the best grandpa.”

“I’ll be there. I’ll be watching.”

That’s what got her. Right then and there, Grace let out a sob, heavy and desperate and loud, like a hurricane had just swept through her body and had taken everything with it. She tried to stop but it was no use. And while she sat there on the edge of his bed sobbing, he pulled her down so her head was to his chest. “You need to…stop worrying, Gracie,” Hamish said. She could feel and hear his heart beating. “I’m still here…and still breathing. Don’t you worry.”

***

“D’you miss your parents?” Grace asked Svea one night when they were hanging out together at Elias’s apartment. They were alone in the den while Brock and Elias played video games, and Grace was looking at all the photos Svea had of her with her older sister and parents. There were a few of her and Elias too – that was a given – in Vancouver or when they were awkward looking teenagers. She got a kick out of those.

“Of course. Every day,” Svea nodded her head. “Do you miss your parents being together?”

Grace shrugged her shoulders. “They separated when I was so young – I barely remember them together. I remember the fighting more.”

Svea hated to hear that sort of thing. She knew Grace’s story, and Grace had talked to her about it before, but every time they did speak about it, Grace revealed just a little bit more about it. “That must have been hard for you – to see your parents fighting.”

“Not just see – I was involved in it half the time,” Grace revealed. “They would use me to get back at the other. They were young and stupid and had too much money, and it made things unnecessarily complicated. I think that’s why I want to become a mom so bad, you know? Because even though I know my parents loved me, I just want to give them a better childhood experience than what I had between my parents.”

“You want them to know mom and dad love each other,” Svea nodded.

“Exactly,” Grace stressed. “And I want, like, a big family. I want my kids to be able to have each other, you know? That whole time I was so alone. I had my friends at school but I never had a sibling. Nobody really understood.”

Svea could only imagine. It was at that moment she realized how lucky she was that she knew her parents loved each other. Love was complicated, yes, but they loved each other. Her mother moved from Vancouver to a tiny town in Sweden to be with her father – that was love. “I think you’ve found what you need in Brock, you know,” Svea said matter-of-factly.

“I know I have,” Grace nodded her head, smiling slightly. “I’m a very lucky girl.”

“He’s a very lucky guy,” Svea quipped.

Grace couldn’t help but giggle. “So is Elias,” she retorted, causing Svea to blush. “When the hell are you going to marry him, Svea? That boy is head over heels in love with you.”

Svea shook her head. “He’s my best friend, Grace.”

***

“I love you so much,” Grace whispered as Brock bent down to kiss her, his travel-day suit already on, and a beanie on his head covering the hair Grace loved so much. She loved running her fingers through it, especially while in bed, and the best part was that Brock loved her doing it too, so she did it all the time.

“I love you too,” Brock replied after the kiss. “What are you gonna get up to for these two weeks I’m not here?”

“A lot of masturbating while I think about you.”

Brock groaned, burying his head into the crook of her neck as she giggled. He bit down at the skin of her neck and she yelped. “You better fucking call me when you do,” he growled in her ear.

“I will.”

Brock gave her one last kiss before standing up straight again. “Say hello to your dad,” he said, even though he just saw him yesterday for their weekly Sunday Night Football watching. “Tell him I’m sorry about Sunday, but I’ll make it up to him when I win our Superbowl bet.”

Grace smiled. “He’ll be crushed if he loses that bet.”

“He better start preparing.”

***

“When are you gonna just kiss her?!” Brock was exasperated.

“Shut up,” Elias mumbled, still concentrating on his phone as he typed a message to Svea.

“Petey, no other girls exist in, like, your world besides Svea. Can you just get it fucking done already?”

“Brock, shut up.”

“Uuuuuuuuaaaaarrrrggghhhhh!” Brock groaned loudly as he and Elias walked through the front doors of their hotel. “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Go right ahead.”

Brock rolled his eyes. Before he could say anything else, his phone began ringing from his pocket. It was after the game, and judging by their routine now, he knew it was Grace. He actually wondered if she was with Svea watching. “There you are. I was wondering when I’d get a call from you,” he said cheerily, not bothering with formalities.

He was met with silence on the other end. Then, a sniffle. She didn’t respond. He could hear her breathing and sniffling on the other end, but she wasn’t saying anything. “Grace?”

“Brock…he’s gone.”

Brock’s heart fell into the pit of his stomach. He stopped walking and stood in the middle of the foyer, the world standing still around him. He barely registered Elias stopping when he realized Brock wasn’t walking beside him anymore, and barely registered Elias looking over his shoulder with furrowed brows. “Grace—”

“We were at the hospital. He—he caught pneumonia somehow and it just—it just—”

“I’m on my way home right now,” Brock said quickly.

“Brock—”

“I’m gonna get on the first flight out to Vancouver, I promise you. I’m just at the hotel and I’m gonna pack and leave,” he explained.

“Please hurry,” her voice was desperate, full of sadness and grief.

“I’m on my way. I love you,” he said.

“I love you too, Brock. Please hurry.”

When Brock hung up the phone, he finally noticed Elias staring at him. There were so, so many thoughts running through Brock’s mind – how he was going to tell Travis he wasn’t going to take the team charter flight home, how he was going to get to the airport, how he was going to get to Grace’s dad’s house or the hospital or wherever she was – but he was only able to verbalize one. “I need you to call Svea and tell her to get in touch with Grace.”

“What happened?” Elias asked.

“Her dad just died.”

Elias’s eyes bulged out of their sockets. But he immediately brought his phone up and swiped until he got Svea’s number. “Go,” he urged, bringing his phone up to his ear. “I’ll pack your things. I’ll bring your bag. Just grab your passport and go.”

***

Hamish’s viewing was busy. He was a well-known figure in Vancouver, and so Grace had to host two days’ worth of viewings, with timeslots in the afternoon and evening. Grace stood first, her two uncles (Hamish’s brothers and partners in the investment firm) Robbie and Owen Gillespie and their families after her. Eliza, James, Jasper, and Theo sat alone in the third row – obviously not part of the “line”, but there to support Grace. Hamish was Eliza’s ex-husband, after all, regardless of how nasty and bitter it got. And he was her daughter’s father. Brock sat alone in the second row, directly behind Grace. Elias and Svea, when they were there – which was most of the time – were beside him, attending to Grace’s every need.

The people wouldn’t stop coming. There was constantly a line to pay respects and then greet Grace, Robbie, and Owen. Brock could tell it was making Grace tired, greeting people she barely knew and shaking their hand and thanking them for their condolences. It didn’t help that it was in the newspaper and on the night-time news, too – however brief the mention of it was, it still made more people aware, and Brock was sure they showed up even though they probably hadn’t seen Grace or Hamish in years.

The funeral was even worse. Grace couldn’t stop crying. She said her eulogy, and it was beautiful, and Owen said one too, but after that it was just constant tears. After the church service, she clung to Brock, pulling him into the procession. At the entombment, her cries were loud and continual. Elias and Svea were crying at the final prayer before his casket was sealed.

Brock tried to be strong – for Grace, of course – but he cried, too.

***

It was a few days – almost a week, really – until Brock saw Grace again. There had to be meetings with lawyers and her uncles that Brock had no reason attending. The money was already hers – everything was basically just a formality, as he understood it, like an official transfer over – but Brock knew she didn’t care about the money. Grace wanted her dad.

Brock had barely sat down on the couch before she climbed onto his lap. Her lips immediately found his and her tongue immediately slipped into his throat. It was urgent. It was hasty. It was visceral, at least for Grace.

It was also wrong.

“Grace…” Brock mumbled, pulling away.

“Brock, c’mon,” she urged, continuing to kiss his strong jawline even though he turned away. “I need you. Touch me.”

“Grace—”

“Touch me,” she begged, grabbing his hands and leading them up her shirt.

“Grace, no,” he said sternly, pulling his hands away now too.

She furrowed her brows at him, an obvious look of anger on her face at his denial. Despite him knowing it was the right thing to do, Grace didn’t think so. “You don’t want me?” she asked in a harsh tone.

“You know I want you. I want you all the God damn time. But I’m not gonna do it when you’re…emotionally compromised,” he tried to reason with her, even though he knew it would be a futile attempt. “You don’t want this.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t. You just want to feel something right now.”

She looked at him indignantly. “Fuck you, Brock Boeser,” she growled as she lifted herself off of his lap, grabbing her purse and slamming his front door without saying another word.

***

There was a light knock at his door. Brock knew it could only be one person.

When he opened it, he knew Grace would be standing on the other side. What he wasn’t expecting was how she looked. Hair that looked that it hadn’t been washed since the last time she was over. Wearing clothes she’d obviously been wearing for days. Dark circles under her eyes, which were puffy and red like they hadn’t stopped crying. She looked defeat, frail, and crushed into a million different pieces Brock just wanted to pick up and piece together again.

“I’m sorry,” were the first words out of her mouth – practically squeaked out. He wondered if she had a voice left. Within seconds, he could see tears well in her eyes and spill down her cheeks like a flood. “I just…I miss his more than my heart knows how to handle.”

Brock engulfed her in a hug, and she cried and cried and cried.

***

“I was in the hospital with him…and he was weak, but he could still speak a bit, and move too. And I was holding his hand the entire time. And I just wanted to be in bed with him like when I was a kid and had a nightmare. And when I got in, I—well, when I was a kid, he’d hold me against his chest and I always remember how I could feel his heart beating, so I did that. And he held my hand and before he fell asleep, he said ‘I love you Gracie. I’ll be there. I’ll be watching.’ And then that was it.”

Brock felt a tear escape his eye. He let it fall as he began to shift his and Grace’s body’s so that he was lying on top of him, her head on his chest. He felt her hand clutch at his bare skin briefly, and a wetness on his chest he knew were tears. “Can you feel it?” he asked, referring to his heartbeat.

Grace nodded her head. “Stay like this, please.”

Brock didn’t move an inch the entire night.

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organic-guacamole · 3 years

Text

episode 210 here we go

awww seb doing the intro

congratulations to milky white and her baby chocolate milk😌

seb is so funny

but seriously, clean up that milk fast or else it will smell so bad in there....

was that Lauryn just randomly doing cartwheels? idk any theatre kids irl but that seems like it's a common thing...

is it just me or has ms Jenn been getting more harsh to Ricky and Seb mainly-

like what did they do to her

no because I actually snorted with laughter at the "you came back" WHAT IS THAT VOICE-

AND THE MASK OMG

yeah so my throat hurts now

I'm dying over here

KOURTNEY'S FACE

SAME GIRL SAME

Ricky's fake death got the whole place in tears /s

he looks like an asthmatic walrus

Seb's on piano, I love

we all know if he was the beast we'd all actually be crying✋

ok but I listen to Julia's version of home on Spotify when I want to cry-

right so gimme a second

is Ricky scratching his face.....while he's dying?

"belle i-" *flop*

round of applause to Ashlyn for trying to make Ricky's earthworm seizure look less.... yknow

Kourtney's just dying there

WAIT IS THAT NATALIE

did she really just disappear for 9 episodes just to come back and stare dramatically into the camera

WAIT SCRATCH THAT SHES HERE TO MURDER ASHLYN AND RICKY

oh so Ricky's wearing a gay shirt now too

so that's the real reason why Rini broke up, see y'all next season when Gini and caswen become canon /j

wait that was a long intro scene-

what was that look Carlos-

TALK TO MY BOY OR ELSE

carlos' run is so funny to me

therapist Ashlyn to the rescue

"that is...super" son you good?

ms Jenn call Benjamin, he would willingly put his loved ones on a rocket and blast them into Venus for you....

maybe

"I don't want you kids to be disappointed" girl you do realise you're the one that's most invested in this?

"a smooth opening night" wasn't there just 1 show though-

like their opening night was closing night too

"I think I was Troy at one point" PLEASE THATS THE MOST ACCURATE DESCRIPTION OF THE SEASON 1 FINALE

me Jenn looks like a serial killer during that clap and I'm lowkey scared for zacky

"I have notes"

oo if you're taking suggestions, lemme get my list

"mother is freaking out" uhhhhhh

right....'mother"

"is everyone sitting down?"

*looks around awkwardly*

*big red slowly sits*

"no..."

please seb was the only one sitting-

does that mean Carlos looked at Seb as soon as he walked in and assumed that everyone else was sitting too or am I a seblos clown🤡

"is this about the transformation"

WOW MAYBE OT IS RICKY

WOW HES A DETECTIVE FOR FIGURING THAT OUT SO QUICK🤩

YO WHY IS NATALIE HERE-

she just shows up when it's convenient? is she gonna be at the sleepover too?

Seb's heavy swallow after Carlos shouts at him makes me so sad

"I never learned how to lie but I figure if I keep my mouth closed, I can't tell the truth" *nods and smiles at Nini when she asks*

why are they casually standing up all over the pizza shop, just sit at a big table and talk instead of blocking passageways and blocking off at least 6 tables-

"how about I invite myself" WHY DO PEOPLE ALWAYS FEEL THE NEED TO INVITE THEMSELVES TO ASHLYN'S HOUSE-

YOU CAN ASK BUT JUST FORCE YOUR WAY IN?

so Cash Caswell has a bigger house than... Dennis Caswell.... who would've thought

ah yes there's the good old EJ 1.0

Nini: "boys vs girls"

Gina: *looks devastated and glances longingly at EJ*

way to be inconspicuous

"but north high should be" *cracks her knuckles in the most uncomfortable way*

good for Ashlyn for getting more confident though

oo bossy big red

"i get bossy around the power tools"

is that why Ashlyn was holding up the drill in episode 8 orrrr 🤠

Lily, leave him alone please

she's literally not blinking, is that what makes her creepy?

the diss at big red and his face afterwards is priceless

isn't that similar to what Gina's mom said to her in season 1? hmmmm

but seriously please don't try to redeem lily, let us have a character to hate, or to love because they're evil.

not everyone's a good guy.

"im not liked here and I don't know what to do"

let antoine finish his salad and it'll fix everything

"hug emoji" *gags*

y'all realize Lily's literally 14?

why is she calling a 16/17 year old from another school for personal advice-

"he gets weird around tools"

I shouldn't be laughing so hard

"deja vu maybe?" awkward silence

I'm dying here I love EJ so so so so much

"where's seb"

*cuts to seb being held hostage hoping that they'd notice he's missing and go look for him*

"don't ask"

"oh ok"

"100% real faux fur" as you should queen

sponsored by target

Kourtney is singlehandedly saving the entire show.

Seb making finger guns make me happier than it should

why is this kinda making me want to have a co-ed sleepover with my non-existent theatre friends

YES YOU DO NEED TO TALK/SING TO SEB CARLOS THANK YOU FOR KNOWING THAT

wait what-

you haven't talked to him all WEEK-

Carlos are you stupid /hj

Benjamin is so adorable I can't

he turned around to come back for her instead of going home. you're "what do you want Jenn🙄X act isn't fooling anyone Benjamin 🙃

10101

1+4+16= 21st?

they placed 21st?

or do I just not remember how to convert to base ten

GIRL DON'T BE RUDE TO HIM, HE'S GONNA SAVE YALL

no ms Jenn, the kids are not eccentric 35 year olds.

aww sebby

is he thinking that Carlos is only with him cuz he's the only other openly gay guy at school-

son you are a perfect little bean don't put yourself down

yes they all ship portwell as they should.

they'll be throwing risotto at the wedding.

not the chocolates. stop there are no chocolates. please stop I'm dying.

Gina you don't have to explain yourself to her

it was a misunderstanding and it's in the past

why is Ashlyn still laughing-

exactly it wasn't a big deal please just move on Nini

Kourtney really be out here saving everything

WHY IS ASHLYN STILL LAUGHING

why do I feel like when Gina finally told Ash about it, she didn't think it was that funny but wanted to feel included in the inside joke so now she brings it up randomly to show that she's in on it....I totally don't do that...

"idk, the farmer type" oh son...

Ashlyn and big red are just spilling the secrets back and forth huh?

OOO EJ AND GINA SITTING IN A TREE K-I-S-S-I-

cmon guys don't look at me like that-

"she is the best" and "we're buddies" don't sound right together

"pretty boy" "sweet boy" best ways to describe EJ

I love him.

and aw he's scared of rejection so he'll hold back just to keep her happy and not awkward how sweet

is Ricky wondering if letting her go(literally his song from last episode) was the best thing he did for Nini because he doesn't feel like it now? hmmm this is getting good

why is everyone so invested in Kourtney and Howie's relationship

PACK UP THE LAZY RICKY THING

oh yes Benji, that's exactly what she's doing

she couldn't follow her dream or whatever so now she's using the kids to gain some of the success she craves. why else would she have that massive hsm poster with her name on it in huge letters in her office.

just casually grab his hand with both your hands and stare at him creepily 🥰

ship jennzzara y'all

the first bump was a missed opportunity to do the baymax "falalala" as a reference to the fact that they watched big hero six while committing arson✋

wait so big red and EJ just left Ricky in the basement and now Ricky invited Carlos when they're supposed to be at the stage?

help no Ricky looks like he's about to tell Carlos he likes him (I know it's about writing the song for seb but still, look at his body language and tell me it doesn't look like that)

Ricky is so mature about this, he really just wants Nini to be happy even though he's hurting-

baby you deserve love, maybe Nini isn't the one for you but don't say you don't deserve it

why does he keep adding bro to the end like he doesn't know how to address Carlos

PLEASE CARLOS HAVING TO ADDRESS THE BRO THING

"let's write a song when we have like 45 minutes to get to the place and help our friends possibly win $50000 at the show in 2 weeks"

"can you hit a high C?"

"that's like the bottom of my range"

why am I laughing

this is so cool to see friendship interactions that we don't normally get to see

Nini why are you being like this-

Gina did nothing wrong??

I saw that, EJ and Gina being the only ones going in the same direction👀

right so obviously Kourtney's waiting until after the menkies to get back with Howie just in case he really is just using her as a way in to east high... obviously... right?

CARLOS

OK ITS COMING GET READY YALL

Why is portwell so awkward all of a sudden

OMG EJ

OMG GINA SAY YES or not, do what you want.

the way she doubts that EJ would genuinely ask so she has to make sure it's not Ashlyn behind it

THE "NOT THAT I KNOW OF"

LIKE WHAT GINA SAID TO JACK ABOUT EJ BEING HER BOYFRIEND

GUYS THEY'RE SOULMATES

I want risotto now please

THEY'RE SO SWEET AND ADORABLY AWKWARD ITS LIKEEK LITTLE KIDS

OOOOOOO what is this place that seblos is in, looks fancy....and secluded

oh wait no Ricky's just standing there

wait is it the bomb shelter

it looks so good what

HSKAGSJAGAJAGWISGSKAUASBWKSVAIWBAISBQKSHIQBWOABWOABDOQBZIQBAIAQBSIWBQISVQKSIANSGOQBSAISBKASBKWBAIABQOSBBSJAHAJAVAJSBAJHSKAHSJAHAJAJAAJAHHHHHHHH

@youranxiousnerd ARE YOU OK?

CUZ IM NOT OK

LOOK AT SEBBY'S FACE

LOOK AT HOW ADORABLE IT IS

THE LYRICS ARE KILLING ME

SEBLOS IS KILLING ME

I AM DEAD

PLEASE SEND HELP

I like to imagine that Frankie and Joe practiced this in their apartment and just had a blast with it.

or maybe that Frankie practiced in secret like what Joe did for the climb

OH THE SUITS

THATS WHERE THAT CLIP IN THE PROMO WAS FROM

AWWW SEBBY'S SO CUTE

HE'S A LITTLE MARSHMALLOW

they're still so awkward with the dance I cant

let's appreciate Frankie's voice though

this episode really was made just for the seblos and portwell stans and you gotta love it

BIG RED GET OUT

WHY DOES HE ALWAYS DO THIS

Seb's little "yeah" IS ADORABLE

you can't tell me that wouldn't have been the best time for them to say I love you....IF FREAKIN BIG RED WASN'T THERE

ok but wait Ricky needs more hugs like that, look at his face

the boy needs love

"bro" please don't let Ricky and Carlos go back to not talking because their friendship is amazing

EJ laughing at Ricky sounding like a cat coughing up a furball is so funny to me

RICKY'S FLOP GETS ME EVERYTIME

I knew it was too good to be true

ok so Ricky's dead, next in line please

this episode was so short but I love it so much. this is what I signed up for for season 2✋

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts s2 #hsmtmts season 2 #ej caswell #ricky bowen #gina porter #hsmtmts spoilers #seblos #seb mathew smith #carlos rodriguez #big red #ashlyn caswell #kourtney greene #lily hsmtmts #ms jenn #mr mazzara #natalie bagley #guac's episode text blocks :)

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janekfan · 3 years

Note

You need to back off + Please come home for some angsty Jmart?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29122362

Prompts are getting filled! Slowly but surely! :D

I hope you like it ^^

Jon woke himself coughing with the realization that what he’d hoped were allergies the day before was now full blown body aches, chills and a productive hacking cough. Reaching out for comfort, he encountered only cold sheets and he shut his throbbing eyes tightly against sudden tears, too emotional. Needy. Sick. Not that he wasn’t needy when he was well either, but.

Martin wasn’t here.

Jon gripped a handful of bedclothes, curling on his side in the space where Martin should be and wasn’t. He thought of warm hands and soft kisses testing his temperature and gentle tutting. Martin would fuss over him terribly, plying him with medicine and perfectly steeped tea with honey and lemon for his sore throat. He would want for nothing, of that he was certain, but.

Martin wasn’t here.

And it was Jon’s fault.

No. Not entirely. He was away for the long weekend for an international conference.

But the shouting match they’d had before he left was very much Jon’s fault.

It figured that he would chase him away. Jon was miserable and ungrateful on his best days and like a dog with a bone on his worst. Why couldn’t he just let things go? Why did he have to push and question and needle Martin like that when he knew his partner needed time to think? Was already anxious about being away for so long? Jon certainly knew how to pick the best time for a row. Impeccable timing as usual, god damn him. Another fit crept its way through his tight chest, up his throat, painfully forcing itself free, and he stifled himself in a pillow.

He wanted Martin.

He had no right to, but he wanted him just the same.

After allowing himself just a few moments to wallow in misery, he forced himself up, driving the heels of both hands against his eyelids. It was a cold. It’d been going around the university and he was always early to catch whatever pathogens his students carried with them. He’d been run down and tired the last week and not from finals apparently. He shuffled awkwardly to the bathroom, limping heavily on his bad leg, absently trying to massage the deep ache left over from the worms all those years ago. He let the water run for a moment, get as hot as he could stand it, and with Martin’s voice in the back of his head, resigned himself to the use of the shower stool he’d insisted on. Sagging forward, Jon let the pounding pressure beat heavy against his back, breathing in the steam in the hopes it would loosen the knots tied thick and rigid around his lungs. Washing up took everything he had left and he wanted nothing more than to collapse back into bed and curl up around Martin’s pillow. Instead he slipped on his favorite of Martin’s jumpers over his pyjamas and took up his cane and made himself tea with honey and lemon and forced himself to drink it even though it tasted wrong. Struggling through the foil of the blister pack exhausted him further but he dutifully downed the tablets with the dregs of his cold cup of subpar tea. Dizzy, nauseated, the room spun around him wildly and he swallowed it down with a sob, laying his hot face against the cool surface of the dining table.

He wanted Martin.

Martin asked him to please not call unless there was an emergency. This wasn’t that. This was some sort of bug and Jon was an adult and he could take care of himself. He shivered. Teeth chattering in his skull and against his better judgement he fumbled for his cell with numb fingers. He thumbed it awake, blinking at the blinding glare. Recents. Martin. Messages. Jon scrolled through them, lingering on his responses. It wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough and Martin had asked him. Asked him not to contact him. For emergencies only. This wasn’t an emergency. It wasn’t. The screen went dark. The tears slipped over the bridge of his nose, tracing the faint scar there left by some fear or another so long ago and Jon chose to be selfish.

What else was new?

“Jon.” Measured, but not cold like he feared so much it would be but focused enough to cut him off before he could even think to apologize. “You need to back off. I’ve asked for some space and I would appreciate it if you would let me focus on this conference. I’ll be back soon. We can talk then.” He paused and with it, so did Jon’s heart. “I love you.”

“I, I love you.” But he’d already hung up and Jon didn’t blame him.

Shivering with chills, Jon dragged his sorry self back into bed, curling into the duvet and closing his eyes against the woozy rolling of his stomach. The tea wasn’t sitting well and Jon found himself panting, shallow and fast, concentrating on keeping himself together and willing himself to sleep though that plan didn’t seem to be working. Salt flooded his tongue and he lurched for the bin beside the bedside, dry heaving painfully. Sweat poured down his face, dripped off his chin.

It wasn’t an emergency.

It wasn’t.

He coughed, wincing and lifting a trembling hand to his throat and pressing against Daisy’s remnant souvenir, imagining the hurt there. A mewling whimper carried on an uneven breath escaped the cage of his fingers. Restless sleep crashed over him, was dragged away from him, uncomfortable, hot and cold somehow simultaneously. Jon picked up his phone repeatedly to call, to text. But he needed to let Martin have this. He wasn’t like him. He needed time and Jon needed to be patient no matter how ill he was feeling, no matter how much he wanted Martin’s reassuring voice. And it was his fault he couldn’t have it.

Jon couldn’t remember a time in his life where he felt this poorly; not even starved for statements, or scarred by numerous fears. Sleep hadn’t been forthcoming after he lurched awake to be sick again and he hadn’t had the forethought to put anything he might need on the bedside table. Objectively, he knew when he ran fevers they had a tendency to spike at night and that if he could just get up to fetch some medicine he would feel better. Subjectively, he was convinced his legs wouldn’t hold him, that he was dying here alone and when Martin returned for his things he would find his body. Panic built and built and built in his chest, cutting off his ability to breathe, stealing the air around him as surely as Crew had when he dropped him effortlessly, eternally through the void and before he knew it his fingers were acting without express permission.

Insistent buzzing next to his ear dragged Martin up from the depths and he groaned in irritation when the rectangle of light blinded him momentarily. He sighed when he could finally see the caller and he supposed Jon had waited as long as he could before giving in and ringing him again. The man was not known for his patience, after all. Martin glanced at his still sleeping roommate, a paramedic out of Brussels, and slipped out of bed to take the call in the hallway.

“Jon.” The frustration was warranted but melted away into concern when his only answer was a strangled, hitching gasp.

“I, I’m s’sorry.”

“Jon, darling, what’s wrong?”

“Y’you want space and, and m’sorry, but I--” A sudden explosive cough caught him off guard; it sounded painful and tight.

“Jon, I need you to listen to me.”

“I’m sorry.” His hoarse whisper didn’t hide the wheeze on his breath. “Shouldn’have called, m’sorry.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong.” Martin clutched his phone, voice calm and steady, hundreds of miles away from where Jon was falling apart.

“P’please?”

“What, Jon?” He was openly crying; big, ugly sobs in between each shuddering syllable, and Martin was almost at a total loss, murmuring sweet things through the line in an attempt to calm him, until his hiccuping slowed and he asked again and he answered, sad and small.

“Please? Come h’home?”

“Jon?” Tim let himself into the flat, speaking soft and low, lest Jon was asleep. “Martin told me you aren’t feeling so hot.” He pushed forward to the bedroom, sympathy welling up at the sight of Jon curled up so small, face hidden in his sweat-damp pillow. “Hey, bud.”

“Tim.” Raspy and rough, like he’d been chewing on rocks, he finished his identification on a weak cough.

“The one, the only.” When he laid the backs of his fingers against his temple, Tim hissed through his teeth at the blazing, dry heat of his skin.

“M’sorry…” the ghost of an exhale, shaky and slurred, and Jon managed somehow to pry heavy lashes apart to reveal unfocused eyes glassy with fever. Tim stroked messy curls away from his face, heart clenching when he groaned low in his throat, before deep brown rolled back and dislodged more tears.

“Let’s get you taken care of, okay?” But first, a quick status update for Martin, who had called him nearly in tears himself.

“How is he? Are you taking him to A&E?” Tim could almost see the way he was clinging to his phone.

“I don’t think so. Gonna get some water and medicine into him and see how that goes.”

“Tim? Is he okay?”

“He’s sick, looks like the flu and he’s likely been down with it a couple of days.”

“God, he tried to call me and I--”

“Gonna cut you off right there, Marto. This isn’t anyone’s fault. It just happens.”

“I was so upset with him--”

“And I’m sure he earned it. When he’s well again you can talk it out.”

“Tim.” Trembling,

“I’ll make certain he’s alright until you get home. I’ve got him, Martin.” While on the phone, Tim gathered up supplies, thankful that Jon lived with someone with brains enough to keep a stocked medicine cabinet complete with a fancy ear thermometer with disposable covers. Because Martin. Jon didn’t so much as twitch this time. 39.4. “Okay, buddy. Up you come now.”

“Nng…”

“Mhm,” Tim hummed good naturedly, holding the glass of water to chapped lips and going slow. “Good?” He took the unintelligible noise as a yes, allowing him a few more careful sips before slipping the capsules onto his tongue. “There we go. We’ll see how that sits.” He divested Jon of the wash worn wool keeping in all the heat, soothing him wordlessly when he tried in vain to keep it. A clean set of pyjamas would make him feel better and he let the relatively cool air of the room wick away the moisture left from a cursory damp flannel.

“...Tim?”

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

“Why’m’I in...in my pants…?”

“Did your best to sweat through the last set, here.” Tim helped guide loose limbs through the appropriate holes.

“S’cold…” punctuating his statement with a full body shiver, Jon slumped forward into Tim’s chest. “M’Martin’s cross.” Nodding, Tim gathered him up to deposit him on the sofa so he could change the bedclothes. “S’my fault…”

“When he comes home, you can apologize. Get him his favorite takeaway, yeah?” Jon listened intently, watery gaze fixed to Tim’s. “Put up those books of yours he’s always tripping over.”

“He, he. He’s coming home?” Lower lip trembling, Jon sounded too hopeful for this to be the distance of a long weekend.

“Oh, you daft fool, of course he is, of course.” He let Jon cry himself out on his shoulder. “He loves you, just needed some space, you know he likes space to get his thoughts in order. Of course he’s coming back.” Gentle and soft, Tim kept up his reassurances and hoped he’d forget that particular fear. Jon was too used to abandonment and all too accepting that he was the cause of it. That he was unlovable. “Alright, dry your eyes now.” Tim thumbed away matching saltwater tracks after settling him back on the couch cushions. “There we are.” Lord, he looked exhausted, the very textbook image of a bad flu with sore, red rimmed eyes limned with bruises. “Back in a tick, love.”

Clean, cool sheets, Jon tucked between them, kettle cooling off the hob, Tim set himself up on Martin’s side of the bed, getting another read, 38.1, and sending a quick update text before tapping open his most recent gaming obsession. The conference ended tomorrow morning and Martin would be home the same evening. With the next day off, Tim could wait that long. Jon’s burn-scarred hand snaked from under the blankets to grip his joggers.

“Hullo.” Tim tugged his fingers through messy curls. “Feeling a little better, champ?”

“Yeah…” It was still early hours and Jon needed all the sleep he could get.

“Sip on this.” And fluids. Tim levered him up, helping him hold the lukewarm mug of tea in shaky hands and laying him in his lap where he could knead out the knots tying up his shoulder blades until he sank deep.

Familiar voices hummed around him like moths just out of reach, melting together, drifting apart, slipping through his fingers. A door opened, closed, and Jon thought for a moment the Distortion must have him until a familiar palm pressed itself against his forehead. Martin’s face materialized in front of him and blurred just as quickly when tears filled his eyes. Wildly, he dove for him, not thinking about the edge of the mattress and collapsing into him when his legs gave way.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, you’re alright, love.” Jon pushed his face into Martin’s neck, body numb with relief. “Shh, shh, shhh.”

“M’m’sorry, so sorry.”

“I know.” Martin curled around him, holding him firmly, tightly, running his hand up and down the shallow seam of his spine. Jon didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve how good Martin was to him. And he, he didn’t--

“I d’don’t unders’stand.”

“Understand what?” Jon couldn’t look at him for fear of what he might see, hiding instead in Martin’s jumper. He shouldn’t have said anything at all. “Why I came home?” He didn’t speak, shook harder, swallowed with difficulty past the cloying clot of emotion in his throat. “Oh, love. You’re not well and everything’s a little mixed up right now.” Lightly, softly, Martin kissed his temple. “I’ll always come home.” Jon felt needy and childish, choosing to believe Martin and taking comfort in it, in the chaste press of his lips against any skin he could reach. “Back in bed now, you’re burning up. Tea?” Nodding once, Jon couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth again, worried that he’d destroy this tentative peace and so, so grateful to have Martin home and the next time he opened his eyes it was to Martin climbing into bed in his pyjamas, tea already on the nightstand.

“Will you tell me about the conference?” Jon accepted the open arms as the offer they were, fitting himself like a puzzle piece against his side, sick and sweaty and lulled by the soothing rumble of Martin’s voice beneath his ear.

There were other things to talk about, but for now, the two of them, here and now, were enough.

#TMA #The Magnus Archives #Jon Sims #Martin Blackwood #Tim Stoker #Jmart #JonMartin #sickfic #fever #flu #vomiting #panic #insecure jon #fight #argument #not pictured #love #caretaking

172 notes · View notes

mister-supernova · 3 years

Text

Missed Connection

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

It’s almost been a month since your encounter with the stranger you believed to be from your dreams. Without any luck of seeing her again, you were beginning to think that maybe that’s all she was; just some mere figment of your imagination that you so desperately wanted to have all the answers you needed.

As insufferably difficult this summer was for you, you still managed to get through it. You thought it was because school wasn’t in session and that you’d be back in your element in no time once classes begin again.

That was what you had hoped for anyways, but alas even when the halls were filled with your peers and your routine was back in place, nothing seemed to change. The mysterious void in your chest didn’t ease like you wished it would.

You couldn’t help but wonder if your friends had been feeling the same way, too. Surely there’s no chance that you could be alone in this situation, right?

“You can’t tell me that things haven’t felt a little weird since Landon destroyed Malivore. He doesn’t even know how it happened, Lizzie.”

The blonde Saltzman nearly whips you in the face with her hair as she abruptly turns to face you in the crowded hallway. “Y/n, we live in a world where witches, werewolves, and vampires exist. Everything in our lives is bound to have a tiny amount of weirdness.”

She made a good point and you knew that, but you also knew that this feeling was different. It had to be.

Lizzie frowns at the disappointed look on your face and rests a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Look, the most important thing is that Malivore is gone. No more bizarre monsters coming to kill us every week. Now try to stop overthinking things and let’s get through this school year in peace.”

Before you knew it, your conversation ended just as quickly as it started and Lizzie was on her way back to class. You hang your head with a defeated sigh, desperately searching the hallway for someone who may be just as lost as you were. Instead, you see everyone going about their first day back like normal.

Students who were away with their families are now smiling brightly as they reunite with friends. Other groups of friends laugh at a joke another says as they pass you by and you wonder if there was someone you should be doing that with.

The clarity that you sought out today only made you more confused than ever. At this point you wished that it was still summer vacation because seeing your classmates having a great first day back had you thinking that you really were alone with your feelings.

Maybe you just needed a day to hang out with your friends after class today. They may not share your thoughts on how odd things have felt recently, but being around them definitely helps clear your head.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. You know Landon and I would be down to watch a movie or something, but we’re going on our official first date today.” Josie tells you, disheartened.

After the multitude of movie dates the two of them shared throughout the summer, you’re surprised that none of those had been labeled as dates, but you weren’t going to tell her that outloud. The two of them seem to be really happy to be spending so much time together and you weren’t going to get in the middle and be the third wheel no one wants, especially on a first date.

“No worries, Jo. I’ll ask Lizzie and MG if they’re free.” She gives you a gentle squeeze on your arm with a sympathetic smile before you go off to find her sister.

Things didn’t seem to be going to plan here either.

“If I hadn’t already agreed to this stupid- I mean,” she grits her teeth with a forced smile, “very cool study date with MG I’d totally hang out with you. God knows I’d rather do anything else.” You knew you weren’t supposed to hear that last part, but Lizzie was always awful at lowering her voice.

If you weren’t already feeling distraught, this definitely was the cherry on top of your depressing cake of sadness.

Instead of showing Lizzie that, you plastered the fakest smile you could and responded with, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just… hang out downtown and get myself a milkshake at the Grill or something.”

Plan “get your friends to distract you from the abrasive thoughts penetrating your brain” had failed, but you weren’t going to let it stop you from at least getting out of the school for a couple of hours. With everyone so busy while classes are back in session, it made you wonder what in the world you did after school before this year.

As much as you tried hyping up how fun it was going to be hanging out downtown by yourself, it only made you feel even more bummed out. Like everything else you’ve been doing since the night Malivore was destroyed, something felt off and nothing seemed to be your remedy.

Minutes turned to hours and you ended up drinking four full glasses of cookies and cream milkshakes at the Grill, literally falling into a sugar coma at your table outside. The sun was barely setting when you got here, but then it was fully dark out when you were woken up from your sugar rush nap.

“Jesus, Y/n. I thought you were dead or something.” You lean your head upwards to see that it was Landon who woke you from your slumber.

“One could not be so lucky, phoenix boy.” You groggily respond, stretching out your muscles and wiping any drool from your cheeks.

Looking at your surroundings, you notice that Josie isn’t around.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?”

There’s a pained look on Landon’s face at your question, “Yeah, about that… she, uh, she said she wasn’t feeling too good and decided to go back to the school.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “What, did you take her to eat sushi or something?”

That was meant to be a joke, but the look of realization on the curly-haired boy’s face told you all you needed to know.

“You went to a sushi place.”

Landon quickly slides into the seat across from yours, “It’s what I suggested. W-Was I not supposed to?”

“Jo can’t digest any sort of raw food without wanting to convulse. I learned that the hard way when I first started going to the Salvatore school,” you shiver at the memory, “Never again.”

The phoenix begins falling into a full state of panic, “Oh my God. I didn’t know that! Wh-What am I supposed to do? What if I completely ruined everything? What if she never wants to go on another date with me again? What if-”

Your patience was thinning very quickly, “Landon, just relax. Take a breather for a second,” you inhale, watching him do the same, and breathe out at the same time, “Go back to the school, check up on her, have a convo about getting some better communication skills and I’m sure everything will be fine.”

Landon nods, “Okay, okay yeah. That’s good. I’ll, uh, I’ll do that,” he continues to sit across from you until you look at him expectantly, “Do I do that now?”

“For your sake, Josie’s, and especially mine, yes. Now would be great, buddy.”

“Right, okay. Thanks, Y/n!” He scrambles out of his seat and begins to shuffle away from the Grill.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger!” You shout with as much enthusiasm you could muster before slumping back into your chair.

Still dazed from the sugar rush nap and exhausted from that conversation, you lean forward with your elbows on the table and begin wiping the sleep from your eyes using the palms of your hands.

“This is gonna be one hell of a year.”

“Long day, huh?” You recognize that it’s a girl’s voice you’re hearing, but not one that was familiar to you.

Moving your hands away from blocking your view, you look up to see the person you convinced yourself was just a figment of your imagination. The long auburn colored hair, fair-skinned, blue eyed girl from your dreams was standing right before you. For a moment, you thought that maybe you really had lost it.

“Sorry. I just, I saw you sitting here earlier and thought you might want company.”

You’re almost positive that you were staring at her with your mouth hanging open like an absolute idiot. Just say something, dumbass!

“Mind if I join you?” She asks, gesturing towards the now empty chair that Landon left behind.

“Yes!”

Idiot!

“I mean no! No, I uh, I don’t mind.” You chuckle nervously, adjusting yourself in every way possible to hide the fact that you were internally freaking out.

The girl gives you a patient smile before taking the seat in front of you, “So, party of one tonight, huh? I mean, I saw you finish talking to someone right now, but it didn’t seem you two were here together.”

“Yeah, no. Not together at all or with anyone really,” for some reason you had to make this very clear to her, “That was just a friend of mine who’s having some lady troubles, so I decided to be a good samaritan and give him some positive advice.”

“How chivalrous of you.” Right away you could tell that she was teasing and the nerves you had seconds ago simply began to vanish.

“Why thank you,” you smile, feeling a wave of warmth when she returns one back, “But yeah, it’s just been me, myself, and I for the night… and day… and probably for the rest of the school year if I’m honest.”

Her smile fades and she tilts her head inquisitively, “What makes you say that?”

Oh, where to begin.

“I’ve been asking myself that for a while now actually. Everything should feel perfect given the fact that I have these amazing friends, I go to this incredible school, I’m 100% healthy and not dying of anything that I know of,” you shrug at yourself, “I should be happy with that, but I’m not. It feels so selfish of me to say and I wish I could fix it, but I can’t. How can everything be so close to perfect, but yet there’s still something wrong?”

The girl stares at you with such empathy and sadness in her eyes that you could swear she was holding something back.

You continue, “Things also haven’t felt normal lately. My definition of normal anyways. For some reason everything has felt completely off, like I’m missing something. You know when you forget that there’s somewhere you’re supposed to be? Like an event and you don’t realize you’ve forgotten about it until the day of and you say to yourself, ‘oh shit, I can’t believe I forgot about this really important thing’. That’s how I’ve felt ever since summer started,” you notice her tense up slightly, but you continue, “but I can’t remember what I’m forgetting.”

At this point, you were surprised this girl didn’t think you were crazy and start running for the hills. If this were any normal stranger, you wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to overshare the thoughts you’ve been keeping secret from your close friends. For some reason, she made you feel the complete opposite. Strangely enough--given the world you live in--you felt safe with her.

“Everyone at school is making me feel like I’m the only person who feels this way. Everyone else can go back to normal. Everyone else can move on and go on dates and study dates and hang out with their friends and go to class without feeling lost and overall just be… normal.” You finally let go of the breath you had been holding in for what feels like months.

Then you start to laugh at the ridiculousness that just spewed out of your mouth, “Jesus Christ. I’m so sorry. You probably thought you were going to have an innocent ‘nice weather we’re having’ type of conversation, but instead you got a stranger dumping their whole life crisis onto you.”

“You really don’t have to apologize. Trust me, I understand how insanely messed up life can get and how relieving it is to just vent it all out,” she gives you a reassuring nod with a genuine look of understanding that you’ve been wanting to see for months, “Even if it’s to someone who can potentially be a serial killer.”

The both of you burst out into a fit of laughs and you swear that you’ve never felt so connected to a person you just met. It was as if your souls had met in another life and were catching up for the first time in a while. Neither of you had a name to place with your faces, but that didn’t seem matter because you already felt like you’ve known this girl for years.

“I’ve had quite a rough couple of months myself. Not sure if I’d binge drink four cookies and cream milkshakes to numb the pain though.”

You shrug, “Well, it’s better than the latter option that I can’t even legally purchase because I’m underage. Plus, it helps that these are the best milkshakes in town--even if they are 4 dollars a glass.”

Now you’re hoping that your old co-worker can cover your bill since you only brought ten dollars with you tonight. Before you could reach for your wallet just to be sure, another thought crossed your mind.

“Wait. How did you know they were cookies and cream? I know it’s a lot of milk to force inside by body, but I normally leave no trace of evidence behind. Are you a witch or something?” That last part was obviously a joke otherwise she’d be at your school by now.

The girl opens her mouth to speak, but it takes her a moment to come up with an explanation, “It was my best friend’s favorite. Yeah, we used to go out for milkshakes all the time and I guess something about you reminds me of them.”

You smile, flattered, “Well, might I say, your best friend has amazing taste,” she purses her lips into a tightened smile and lowers her gaze, almost as is the memories of this said ‘best friend’ pained her to think about, “I’m assuming things aren’t so great with them right now?”

She sighs at the thought, “We were close for a long time. I’m actually surprised that they stayed as long as they did. I probably gave them a million reasons to bail, but they were annoyingly persistent,” she chuckles, “I’ll admit, it took me a while to settle into our friendship, but the moment I did was something I would never regret. From that point on the only thing that could separate us was death.”

Judging by her heavy use of past tense words, you could only think the worst happened, “Did they, you know, um…?” You didn’t want to ask the full question seeing that she was clearly still hurt by the absence of this person.

She shakes her head, “No. No, it turned out death wasn’t the only factor that was able to keep us apart. We meant a lot to each other and later realized that there was more to us than just friendship. Eventually, things started becoming serious but me being the person I am, I pushed them away and left.”

“Have you tried reaching out to them again?” You thought that there was no way two people who felt those intense feelings could completely forget about each other.

“Once, but things changed. They took one look at me and acted as if I never existed.” Maybe it was the empath in you, but it broke your heart seeing a small pool of tears building up in her eyes. You wished that you could say something to make her feel better and tell her that everything will be okay, but how could you when you don’t know her?

She quickly wipes the tears before they could fall and takes in a deep breath that you instinctively mirrored to compose yourselves.

“I guess it’s my turn to say sorry, huh? I feel like my baggage was a little heavier than yours there,” she sniffs, huffing out a light chuckle.

“Well, if we’re giving out medals here, you’ve got the gold. That’s for sure,” you grin, hoping to lighten up the mood.

Her laugh--that you could tell was genuine--gave you the assurance you needed.

“I feel like I should give you a hug. I mean, if you’re cool with that,” you suggest, ready to push yourself out of your seat, “Because I could kind of use one and I’m just assuming--”

“That would be great, yeah,” the girl nods with a relieved smile.

“Alright, great.”

The two of you stand, moving around the table to meet each other in the middle. Her head seemed to fit perfectly against your chest as her arms pressed behind your back. All of the weight that had been piling up on your shoulders began to fall at your feet and the tension from stress that built up inside your chest began fading away. How this could happen from an interaction with a complete stranger, you had absolutely no idea.

“Is it weird if I say this doesn’t feel weird?” You ask with the side of your head leaned against hers.

“Well, I think things are only weird when someone makes it weird.”

You pause for a moment, “Do you think this feels weird?”

She laughs and you know for a fact that she could hear your heart skip a beat, “No. I don’t.”

You fight the goofy grin from appearing on your face, but fail miserably, “Okay, good.”

Part of you was afraid of what’ll happen the moment you separate. You had no idea when would be the next time you see this girl or if there was going to be a next time. This was the first day in a while when you didn’t feel lost, instead you felt that this was exactly where you needed to be. You felt normal.

Before you could actually start making things weird, you begin to pull away from her embrace, “Well, tonight I learned that I can click with a stranger within a span of ten minutes give or take, so thank you for that.”

She smiles, “Thank you, too.”

“I think it’s safe to say that we’re at the point of learning each other’s names now.”

“Yes, because why start with those when we could just tell our whole life stories and share an intimate hug first?”

“Exactly! Actually, you know what? I think we should get married in Vegas really quick and we’ll just figure out our names during the vows section of the wedding ceremony. Whatever we come up with in the moment will just be how we refer to each other for the rest of our lives,” you joke.

“You’re absolutely right.” Wow, a girl who can keep up with your sarcasm without thinking you’re a complete--huge emphasis on complete--idiot? She is the girl of your dreams--literally and metaphorically.

You stared down at her in wonder, hoping to God that you’re not dreaming and that this interaction has been real, “It’s, uh, it’s Y/n by the way. My name. Y/n L/n.”

“Hope. Hope Marshall,” she reveals and a victorious smile appears on your lips when you finally have a name to match a face.

Your smile quickly drops when the clock tower starts going off and you realize that it’s nearly midnight, “Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you tonight, Hope. I'm sorry to cut the rest of the evening short, but my school just got a new headmaster and unfortunately he’s a lot more strict on our curfew than our previous one. Don’t want to turn into a pumpkin, you know?”

She chuckles, “No worries at all. It was nice meeting you, too, Y/n,” Hope smiles and you can tell that she didn’t want to leave. If you were being honest, you really didn’t want to either.

Neither of you could find the energy to be the first person to walk away. To do that would be like trying to separate two annoyingly strong and stubborn magnets apart.

As much as you wanted to spend the whole night learning more about each other, you also didn’t want to be put in detention on the first day back at school.

Unwillingly, you take the first step backwards without wanting to fully turn away from your newfound acquaintance, “Thanks again for the chat. I hope to see you again very soon, Marshall.”

Hope rolls her eyes, but can’t contain a smile, “Only if you’re lucky.”

“I think I like my chances,” you wink playfully before turning your heel to make your way back to the school feeling the most energized you’ve felt in a long time.

apologies for the later update than usual with this series and I apologize in advance if it takes a while for part 6 to be posted. I’m in a bit of a writing funk right now and my mind is currently locked onto the Wilds soooo there may or may not be imagines for that fandom coming from me soon. anyways, happy late 2021 and here’s to hoping this year isn’t complete shit! much love y’all

taglist: @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch @sodangtired

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson imagine #hope mikaelson x reader #legacies #legacies cw #legacies imagine #legacies x reader

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lady-amethyst18 · 3 years

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(The four kids look around inside the theater. Haoyu drags his finger across the table that was coated with dust.) Haoyu: Man. When was the last time you cleaned this place? Balan: Forever, I guess. I tried to keep it tidy by myself, but then one thing became another, and soon I lost my touch. I don't have the funds to patch up the cracks or make repairs. And I haven't figured out how to do it myself. Cass: And what about those little guys? (points at the little bird creatures) What are those? Balan: I'm... Not sure. They just showed up one day after my theater closed. I don't know what they are, so I've decided to call them tims. They stuck by me when no one else would. Emma: (picks one up and pets it with two fingers) Well, they sure are cute. At least you have some form of company. Balan: Yeah...

(Balan smiles sadly when suddenly everyone hears a loud growl.)

Yuri: (startled) What was that? Balan: (holds his hand over his belly) Sorry, I'm hungry. I haven't eaten anything today. (looks at the tims) These little guys usually try to help me find some form of food. If any at all. Leo: (he thinks for a bit before heading towards the door) Balan: (worried) L-Leo? Where are you going? Leo: I'm going to get you something to eat. I promise I'll be back. You guys stay here with him. I shouldn't be gone long. Balan: ... Ok... Cass: (holds Balan's hand) Don't worry, Mr. Balan. We'll keep you company.

(Balan smiles at the girl while clasping his hand around hers. Almost tighter. Leo exits the alley until he turns to the donut shop. Luckily it was still open. Not the healthiest idea, but it would be some sort of food for the maestro. He walks inside and finds that the line is long.)

Leo: Ugh! Great... I'm going to be here forever.

(He stands there for a few minutes until he peers at two men sitting at a table playing chess. One had thick purple hair and was wearing what looked to be a business coat, while the other was sitting in a wheelchair. Curious and seeing that the line would take forever, he decided to take a closer look.) Leo: Hey guys, sorry to intrude, but would it be alright if I watch you play. The line's going to take its sweet time anyway. Cal: Sure thing, kiddo. You ever play chess? Leo: Not really. I mean, I know the basics, but I never really played it myself. Eis: Care to learn how to play? Leo: I would like to, but I'm kind of in a hurry. I have to gather food for my friends. Cal: (nods, but there's a hint of disappointment in his eyes) Alright, suit yourself.

(Leo watches the two play for a while. He notices Eis' face.)

Leo: Sorry, but... Have we met somewhere before? Eis: Uh... I don't believe so. What's your name, boy? Leo: Leo. Eis: (shrugs) Not a name I'm familiar with. But I'm Eis, and this is my buddy, Cal. We play chess here every now and then. Leo: (thinks) Eis... Oh! I remember now! You were on the news a couple weeks ago! Eis: Oh. So you've heard about that fire at that apartment building. Leo: Yeah! Man, what a rush! I heard you were a hero when you saved that kid. Eis: (looks sad) Yeah, well... I was a hero. Until the accident happened. Leo: What do you mean? Eis: It's true I saved that kid and the fire was put out. But it was at the cost of my legs. A piece of debris landed on me and crushed me from the bottom down. I couldn't walk, so now I'm bound to this wheelchair and I had to resign from my job. Leo: (shocked) Oh... Cal: I've been keeping in touch with him. Trying to keep his spirits up. Leo: Well... I'm sorry if it was a touchy subject. Eis: Naw, you're ok, Leo. I'll be fine.

(Leo sees that the line has finally passed. So he goes up to order his food. He askes for a dozen donuts, several kolaches, and bottles of water. When he paid for the food, Cal and Eis notice him struggling to carry it all.)

Cal: Um... Need some help, kiddo? Leo: (carries one of the bags in his teeth) No thanks. I got it. (drops one of the bottles) Cal: (picks it up) I think you do need some help, Leo. Where are you and your friends eating? Leo: Uh... Behind the alley. We like to picnic there sometimes. Eis: Why don't you set the box on my lap, Leo? I can carry it easily. Cal: And I'll be happy to hold one of the bags or water bottles for you. Leo: (sighs) Well... Ok. But don't question why we like to eat in the alley.

(The two nodded. Cal gathered his chess set and helped Eis out the door while carrying the bags and a bottle of water.)

So here's the context

Haoyu, Yuri, and Cass were getting to know Balan until he got hungry. Seeing as how he didn't eat anything today, Leo goes to the donut shop to get some food for him and the others. Though the place was busy, and Leo had to wait in line. Until he met Cal and Eis playing chess together in the dining room of the shop. Seeing as how the line was going to take forever, he decided to watch them play. Cal is actually a champion at chess, but it's a dying game. People were more interested in playing video games more than family games. Which breaks his heart a bit. As for Eis, he's a "retired" fireman after getting injured. The man was put on home health and is bound to a wheelchair. Can't walk worth squat. When the line shortened, he got his food, realizing it was a little too much to carry. So Cal and Eis help him bring his items back to the alley. Unknowing of who they were going to meet. This is my Lonesome Maestro AU. When Balan's first show was a disaster, and everyone left him. He's become very lonely and sad due to no one being around. Until Leo and Emma showed up and try to change his life for the better.

#balan wonderworld #lonesome maestro au #alternate universe #leo craig #cal suresh #eis glover

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sandflow · 3 years

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Sugimoto and Ogata’s Rivalmance - anime vs manga comparisons

Hello there.

So I just saw the last episode from he 3rd season of the Golden Kamuy anime series and it left me a little perplexed. I’ll be talking about how the anime handled their scenes compared to the manga.

I’ll be blunt, season 1 was average while season 2 turned out kind of bad. Season 1 is alright as an introduction to the series, even though the CG bear really turned off many people from liking the show.

Season 2 skipped a lot of arcs and while some of them turned out to be animated as an OVA, there are arcs that even at present haven’t been adapted and as of which happen pre-Abashiri. (Ogin arc, Fake ainu arc).

Season 3 was alright though. The animation quality is way better and the pacing felt really fluid and relaxing for the most part of the season.

I will only be comparing the scenes that have changed, and won’t adress the ones that haven’t been adapted in the anime.

Here we go.

Season 2 Episode 3 (chapter 81) - Sugimoto saves Ogata in Edogai’s house

The manga - After Sugimoto says the infamous tsundere line to Ogata, Ogata spits blood and then the scene shifts to something else.

The anime - After Sugimoto’s line, we can see Ogata looking disgustingly at Sugimoto while he’s leaving the room, and then he spits blood.

I guess that the anime tried to make it look like Sugimoto hurt Ogata’s ego with that line. And Ogata didn’t like it at all.

(Chapter 83)

The manga - Ogata tries to hunt the birds by shooting them only to be denied by Asirpa. Sugimoto is all smirky because Ogata is being lectured.

The anime - They don’t show Sugimoto’s evil smirk reaction to Asirpa lecturing Ogata.

The manga - Sugimoto being jelly of Ogata who caught more birds than Asirpa. When Sugimoto says that Ogata tried to hunt the birds just to prove Asirpa wrong, we can see Ogata’s sad reaction to that line.

The anime - It’s pretty much the same scene but we don’t get Ogata’s reaction.

Season 2 Episode 5 (Chapter 99)

The manga - Sugimoto calls out Shiraishi’s betrayal. Shiraishi panicks thinking that he might kill him right there, but it ends up with Sugimoto showing him that he gave fake skins to Hijikata.

The anime - it’s the same scene except for when Sugimoto calls Shiraishi out, we can see Ogata’s expression while the conflict unfolds.

And then Sugimoto says that the skin that Shiraishi gave to Hijikata was a fake.

And we see Ogata again where he closes his eyes.

The Ogata reactions never existed in the manga.

I’m thinking that they added this so as to hint at his future betrayal in Abashiri.

(Chapter 100)

The manga - they kill some deer so as to hide in them and get rid of the 7th from pursuing them, Shiraishi becomes delirious and runs away. No one goes after him.

The anime - Shiraishi runs away delirious and Asirpa goes after him and tells Sugimoto to skin deers with Ogata until she comes back. Sugimoto decides to go after her and Ogata calls him to come back.

This entire scene did not exist in the manga.

OVA 3 (Chapter 104)

The manga - Shiraishi gets bitten by a snake. Sugimoto, for some reason, gets bitten too.

And when both of their heads get inflated, Shiraishi asks Sugimoto what happened to his face.

The anime - Ogata is the one who asks Sugimoto about his face.

All I can say is thanks Geno for this addition.

OVA 4 (Chapter 111)

The manga - Asirpa asks Ogata to help Tanigaki escape from these ainu dudes who think he violated and killed wild animals.

In the manga, after Asirpa asks Ogata for help, Ogata follows it with the reasoning that Tanigaki may have killed his comrades from the betrayer group, to which Sugimoto and also Asirpa defend Tanigaki by saying that he wasn’t the one to do it.

After that, Sugimoto sort of taunts Ogata by saying that uwu Asirpa won’t cook for you anymore~

The anime - After Asirpa asks Ogata for his help, the whole reason he wouldn’t save him is skipped, and it jumps to just Sugimoto taunting him.

All what Ogata needed was a small tease reply from Sugimoto and he was totally down on risking his life saving Tanigaki. Comrades getting killed by Tanigaki? Naaaah.

Season 3 Episode 7 - (Chapter 169)

The manga - The group starts talking about the legend of a mountain cat (lynx) and Koito thinks that they were probably refering to Ogata. And so the bullying begins.

Sugi when first hearing of this, he smirks in a way that says “Lol wut where did that come from”.

The anime - when Sugimoto first asks “What’s Ogata gotta do with it?” we don’t see his smirking face like in the manga.

And when he says the line of “What a pathetic joke”, his face looks a bit more..dramatic and sad in a way?

Or when he looks all determined after Koito says that they should kill a cat when spotted.

This scene felt like he really does feel sorry for Ogata being bullied compared to the manga.

Season 3 Episode 11 - (Chapter 187)

Ogata lies about Sugimoto’s death to Asirpa so as to get the code out of her.

He sees that Asirpa isn’t cooperating with his pleas of sharing the code with him. So he uses the Sugimoto card.

The manga - he starts blushing the moment he mentions Sugimoto

The anime - the blush wasn’t shown in this scene

He starts talking about the fake flashback of hearing Sugimoto’s last words.

The manga - we get this simple panel of just Ogata calling out Sugimoto’s name.

The anime - we are serviced with the same scene but from a different angle which I appreciate because it looks shippier.

Another notable thing is that while this scene is happening, you can hear Sugimoto heavily breathing. To me it felt like the breathing sounds lasted a bit longer than I imagined when reading the manga...

Sugimoto’s voice sounds very soft and gentle while begging for Ogata to take care of his buddy’s family.

The manga - blushy lying Ogata

The anime - blushy lying Ogata but the blush seems to be drawn lighter? You gotta squint to see it.

The manga

The anime

I don’t have an argument for these panels I just like how cute he looks while blushing.

when you imagine your arch nemesis’s last soft, gentle dying words you just can’t help but feeling flustered

The manga - Ogata leans in close to Sugimoto’s face. Sugimoto is looking directly into his eyes while trying to mutter Tome’s name. And Ogata seems to look sad.

The anime - the scene is shown from a different angle, and Sugimoto is probably looking at the sky or something. We can’t see Ogata’s expression anymore.

The manga - Ogata is still running on the ice floe while pretending to care about Sugimoto’s last wishes.

look.at.his.frowny.cute.staplebrows.

The anime - Ogata and Asirpa are...standing still, looking at one another, and being all sad about their boo-boo Sugi-chan's death wishes.

The manga - The projecting is now going off the charts.

Sugimoto grabs Ogata’s hand, holds it tightly,with Ogata also tighting the grip, tells him that he wants to go back to his hometown while also tearing up, all of this happening while they look in eachother’s eyes.

This is peak soft fanfiction I SWEAR-

The anime - Geno wasted all of their money in this episode and they didn’t have any other left to animate this panel, so they just use the same frame as before.

That sky must be very fascinating to look at.

The manga - Ogata being all pouty and sad that he has to bear Sugimoto’s burdens-

The anime - He seems not as pouty but the cute eyelashes are more visible. CUTE.

The manga - a beautiful ending for a fanfic Ogata projects even MORE because I guess that everyone on this planet loves the same fish stew as he does.

The anime - it’s basically the same but Sugimoto’s voice is so dramatique and sad that it just brings tears to my eyes how Ogata is so good at writing fanfics.

(Chapter 188)

The manga - Sugimoto heard Ogata’s fanfic and was enraged because of how ooc he turned out, so he went to him and to show what sort of fanfics he’s into, he comes from behind, grabs Ogata by the hair, pulls it, and cuts his poisoned eye out.

The anime - He comes in from the front???? catches Ogata’s head in a very gentle way, and cuts his eye out. No hairpull.

Geno. I’m looking at you.

The manga - Sugimoto making very angry eye contact, sucking Ogata off and still pulling his hair.

The anime - Geno doesn’t like gore so they just animated one single suck panel. Ogata is sort of moving his eye a little there. Hm.

We also get some new frames that weren’t in the manga.

One in which he scolds Ogata for wanting to make small children kill people.

The other still looking angrily at his bandages face.

Ok Geno you’ll get a pass on this one.

Season 3 Episode 12 (Chapter 197)

The manga - Sugimoto tries very hard to convice everyone to save Ogata.

The anime - it’s the same thing except the very heterosexual tension orange glowy eyes, and the more obvious and wider drawn devilish smirk.

This is thirst depicted in one frame.

The manga - The doctor says that Ogata will most likely die and Asirpa is sad. Sugimoto is looking at her thinking oh nooo she’s a killer now.

The anime - Asirpa is sad but Sugimoto isn’t looking at her but towards the doctor....

The manga - Sugimoto has white danger eyes with a tint of sadness/dissappointment in his expression.

The anime - Sugimoto looks SO ANGRY HOW DARE YOU DIE LIKE THIS? PATHETIC OF YOU. *spits*

He’s just as thirsty here too.

I didn’t understand why they coloured his eyes like that. What was is supposed to mean????? He wants blood but he also wants to continue to hunt for it I guess???

This is, I think, the first time in the anime where they colour the pupils that bright.

The manga - Sugimoto is so shocked that Ogata is alive and ran away.

The anime - they added two new frames, basically empathising how Sugimoto is slowly processing the whole event.

God the adapted manga panel looks so funny he just goes super duper wide eyes as if no one would have predicted this outcome.............

(chapter 200)

The manga - wishing for his arch nemesis to come back to him. A very normal wish.

The anime - it’s the same. But now with sparkly eyes like in the volume.

And that’s it.

I think that Geno somewhat tried to promote their relationship to a certain extent by adding new scenes while trying to stay somewhat faithful to the source.

Sadly, they cut a lot of arcs. If you’d watch this series without checking out the OVA’s, you’ll definitely miss out on scenes where their bickering bond is being shown in all of its glory. They didn’t even animate the Fake Ainu arc even as of today, which has the best sugio bickering in the series.

#golden kamuy #ogata hyakunosuke #sugimoto saichi #Osugi #sugio

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rebelwrites · 3 years

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Trying Not To Love You

Clay Spenser x Reader

A/N: This is Part Two To “Can’t Give Her What She Wants” But Could Be Read As A Stand Alone Fic. I Just Couldn’t Leave It How I Did 😂 Rebel Isn’t Good With Angst Without A Happy Ending.

Join The Group Chat Here - If You Want Tagging Manually Let Me Know 🖤

Clay Spenser Masterlist

This Months Writing

You call to me, and I fall at your feet. How could anyone ask for more? And our time apart, like knives in my heart. How could anyone ask for more? But if there's a pill to help me forget, God knows I haven't found it yet. But I'm dying to, God I'm trying to.

The moment Jase saw the cheap bottle of whiskey on the coffee table alongside one of Clay’s dog tags laying next to it, he knew what type of night you had. It had only been a month since you and Clay went your separate ways and everyone could see how much it was hurting both of you. He also knew that after your party for one you would definitely need some strong coffee.

“Hey sleepy” Jase said, nudging you as he put a fresh coffee on the table.

“Urgh” you groaned pulling the duvet over your head.

“I see you enjoyed a party on your own last night kiddo” he said pulling the duvet off you.

“Enjoyed wouldn’t be the word I would use” you sighed running your hand over your face before reaching for the coffee and grabbing Clay’s dog tags running you finger over the engraving. “Unless you class knocking back shit whiskey and crying as a good night, then yeah it was a good night”

“It will get easier” Jase said sitting next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder “I mean you’ve been camping on my sofa for the last month now, and that tells me you aren’t ready to give up on hope yet”

“Or I just don’t want to be alone so at least I have Emma and Mikey around when you aren’t” you sighed. “I just want this constant ache in my chest to go away, nothing helps me forget Jase and right now I want to forget”

“Well can I suggest taking a shower” he laughed trying to lighten the mood. “Because you smell like a brewery”

“I’m gonna go for a run” you said, sipping your coffee before slipping the dog tags around your neck, tucking them into the hoodie that belonged to Clay. No matter how much you tried to get rid of the hoodie and dog tags you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. “I need to try and clear my head”

“The boys are coming over soon, so if you aren’t ready to see him yet I’d go soon” Jase sighed squeezing your shoulder he hated how much this was affecting the both of you.

'Cause trying not to love you, only goes so far. Trying not to need you, is tearing me apart. Can't see the silver lining, from down here on the floor. And I just keep on trying, but I don't know what for. 'Cause trying not to love you. Only makes me love you more.

The moment Clay walked into Jase’s house his senses were attacked by the smell of the body spray you always used, he knew you were staying here even if you weren't speaking to him, the sight of your trainers on the shoe rack, made his heart hurt. They were only simple things but everything that related to you made that cut just that bit deeper.

No matter how much he tried not to love you it only made him love you more, Sonny was right you were his other half and life without you was hell.

The moment he walked into the living room, he saw Jase folding up the duvet, placing it in the corner of the room along with the pillows and the teddy bear that you only slept with when you slept alone. He also spotted one of his hoodies thrown over the back of the sofa.

“Is she here?” Clay asked.

“She’s gonna for a run” Jase sighed “she needed to clear her head and shift the hangover she has from nailing a bottle of cheap whiskey”

“How is she doing?” Clay asked as he picked up the empty bottle.

“She’s hurting, just like you are” Jase said with a sad smile.

“I just don’t know what to do” Clay sighed as he sat on the sofa resting his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands. “Where do I go from here? I’m trying not to love her but it’s only making me love her more”

“You just got to give it time man” Sonny said squeezing Clay’s shoulder. “It’s only been a month”

“I’m just lost without her”

And this kind of pain, only time takes away. That's why it's harder to let you go. And nothing I can do, without thinking of you. That's why it's harder to let you go. But if there's a pill to help me forget, God knows I haven't found it yet. But I'm dying to, God I'm trying to.

No matter where he went or what he did, he was tormented with memories of you, everything he did always came back to you making things harder. No matter how much he tried to forget he couldn’t. Everyone was right, you were his other half, the person that made everything better.

So he found himself knocking back the shots, distancing himself from his brothers, trying to do anything he could to forget the pain he was feeling. But nothing was working, he couldn’t bring himself to change his lockscreen. Pulling his phone out he stared at the picture of the two of you that was taken around a year ago, he was pressing you against the wall and you were both looking into each other’s eyes with smiles that shine brightly.

He knew he shouldn’t but he found himself writing a text out to you but deleted it before he even sent it.

It's trying not to love you, only goes so far. Trying not to need you, is tearing me apart. Can't see the silver lining, from down here on the floor. And I just keep on trying, but I don't know what for. 'Cause trying not to love you. Only makes me love you more.

“I’ve never seen either of them this low before” Ray said leaning against the counter of Jason’s kitchen.

“I don’t think any of us have” Sonny sighed. Their voices were hushed as you were only on the sofa in the next room. “They are both putting away a serious amount of alcohol to try and numb the pain”

“You do know you aren’t as quiet as you think” you said walking into the kitchen, all their eyes landed on Clay’s hoodie you were still wearing. It no longer smelt of him but you couldn’t part with it, it was like your comfort blanket. “Jase you are in my way”

“I’m not moving,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m cutting you off the spirits”

“Fine I will just go to the pub then” you huffed storming out of the kitchen.

You knew drinking wasn’t the answer but for a short period of time it numbed the pain, but it never lasted too long.

“We should go with her” Ray sighed. “With how she is feeling she’s gonna start a fight just to feel something other than the heartache she’s feeling”

“I know someone else who is exactly the same” Sonny sighed “but maybe this will work, they haven’t been in the same room as each other for the last two months and I know full well Clay is at the pub”

“You think that maybe if they see one another they might come to their senses?” Jase asked.

“Exactly that”

The moment you walked into the bar you ordered a couple of drinks, tucking yourself into the corner where no one would see you. But from across the room you spotted one person whose mood reflected yours. Maybe coming here was a bad idea, you knew he would be here but was this your heart's way of saying that you needed him.

Leaning back into the chair you watched from across the room having an internal battle on whether you should just go over to him or not.

So I sit here divided, just talking to myself. Was it something that I did? Was there somebody else? When a voice from behind me, that was fighting back tears. Sat right down beside me, and whispered right in my ear. Tonight I'm dying to tell you. That trying not to love you, only went so far. Trying not to need you, was tearing me apart.

“Hey little buddy” Sonny said, sitting beside Clay. “You know it’s bad luck to drink alone right”

“Maybe I want to be alone” Clay sighed.

“Just reach out to her man” Jase said, pulling the beer bottle to his lips. “We all know that you and Y/N are just being stubborn, trust me she is no fun to live with at the moment”

“Yeah well we both decided to go separate ways” Clay snapped.

“Oh come on man you and everyone else knows that you two are meant to be together” Sonny said, glancing across the room to see Ray chatting to you, he didn’t know what was being said but he saw the tears in your eyes as you nodded, standing to your feet and started walking across the room. “But if you want to sit here feeling sorry for yourself then who are we to stop you” nodding at Jase they both stood up leaving him alone but knew he wouldn’t be alone for long.

“Clay” you sniffed fighting back tears as you sat opposite him. You waited until he looked up, his mood matching yours. “I can’t do this anymore”

“Do what?” He whispered looking into your tear filled eyes.

“Be apart from you any longer” you said fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie you were still wearing. “I’ve tried everything in me not to love you anymore but it only got me so far and if I’m being honest it only made me love you more and the more I tried not to need you just tore me apart”

You didn’t expect him to reach across the table, squeezing your hand, the contact making your heart feel a little lighter.

Now I see the silver lining of what we're fighting for. And if we just keep on trying, we could be much more.

“I think we made a mistake “ he whispered, brushing his thumb over your hand, sending sparks through your body. “The last two months just made me realise I don’t want anything other than you, I don’t want this life if you aren’t by my side”

“What we had was so special even if the last couple of months wasn’t the best” you whispered “we didn’t go about it like adults would, we let the communication break down. But I can’t do this without you, and I don’t want to do it without you” reaching out you placed your hand on his cheek as a smile appeared on Clay’s face.

“We gave up fighting for love but I see it now, maybe we can try again” he whispered, his blue eyes glistening with hope as well as tears.

“I’m willing if you are baby” you whispered, brushing your thumb over his cheek as his smile grew.

“Maybe Sonny was right all this time, soulmates always find a way back together” he whispered before leaning across the table placing a gentle kiss against your lips. “It’s a nice night tonight. What do you say we go for a walk?”

“Just like our first date” you said laughing for the first time in months, standing up you held your hand out in front of him, he wasted no time standing up linking his fingers between yours as you left the pub without saying bye to the guys.

You always believed that having a soul mate was a bunch of bullshit, until this moment. You both knew that you wouldn’t go back to how you were a year ago and it would take time and a lot of communication but it was a road you were both willing to travel, no matter how long it took.

'Cause trying not to love you. Oh, yeah, trying not to love you. Only makes me love you more.

@chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @supervalcsi @everyhowlmarksthedead @talicat713 @disasterfandoms @bravo-four-seal-team @jasonbabymama @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @lotsoflovefromlea @seik-o @ohitsnicolexo @phoenixhalliwell

#clay spenser #clay spenser x reader #clay spenser imagine #clay spenser oneshot #seal team #seal team x reader #seal team imagine #seal team oneshot

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babyspiderling · 3 years

Text

Little Red Corvette p.2 Michael Jackson x reader

(Bad Era)

Eight Months Later (1983)

I did this pregnancy on my own. My mother was appalled at the fatherless child growing inside of me and refused to support me through my pregnancy. The struggles and frustrations for the past nine months very easily justified when I held my baby boy in my arms. His skin was a beautiful shade of brown, his eyes deep and pulling like his fathers. Looking down at the tiny human finally in the world, there was no question or doubt in my mind who the father was. By blessing or curse, I was the only one who knew who the father was. Relatively early in my pregnancy, Michael released a video for one of his songs "Billie Jean". I sat and stressed over the possibility of him knowing of the child in my womb for weeks, but nothing came of it. No managers offering hush money, no reporters asking about the legitimacy of the child inside of me, nothing, so life went on. Looking down at the life in my arms, snuggled towards me I spoke softly. "Edward Michael L/N. My little blessing."

1986

It wasn't too long after Edward, or Eddie was born that I went back to work. I hired a sitter, or depending on the client, brought him in with me. Whitney Houston and Cher absolutely gushed over him during breaks. When Eddie was three, I got a call from Quincy Jones asking me to help him out on the mixing on an album. I agreed and found someone to watch my son while I worked. Quincy didn't tell me who I was hired for and I didn't want to seem unprofessional to whoever Quincy was working with. I kissed my three year old good-bye and got into my car to head to the studio they were using. "Bye Blessing! Mommy's going to work, but I'll be home soon. I love you so much!" I drove through the California traffic to the studio and parked my car near the front. I checked myself in the mirror before making my way inside.

"Y/N! You made it! Where's Eddie? You know you can bring him any time? Little dude has got potential if you ever want him to get into our world." I laugh at Quincy's antics. "Yeah, I know you love Eddie. Thank you for the compliment, but he's three, Q. He's not going into show business any time soon." Q shrugs his shoulders and turns back to the soundboard in his rolling chair. "Alright, let's get down to business shall we?" He nods and presses play on the vocals. I feel the blood drain from my face as a familiar voice croons from the speakers.

"I don't care what you talkin' 'bout baby, I don't care what you say. Don't you come walkin' beggin' back mama,I don't care anyway"

I stand stock still in shock, flashes of our one night together, my isolated pregnancy, my little boy waiting at home for me. I yank myself out of it with a sharp gasp when Q places a hand on my elbow, his eyebrows creased in worry. "Hey, Y/N, you good? You look like you've seen a ghost. What's going on?" I swallow and tuck my hair behind my ear, a nervous tick. "Yeah, I'm fine Q. I don't know what that was. How're we mixing this one?" He sits back in his chair, taking a deep breath and heaving it out in a large sigh. "Yeah, about that. Smelly's really particular on how he wants each track to sound on this album. He wants his voice to be layered in a harmony with himself during the chorus. He's recorded the audio, now it's our turn to get it just the way he wants." I nod and sit down in my own chair, slipping the large, bulky headphones over my ears to start working. The sooner I can finish working on Michael's album the better.

"Alright! Two music heads working on that was much faster than just me. I've got a few more tracks to work on before the release of the album. You good to come in say, day after tomorrow? Early morning so we can get a lot done. And bring Eddie. I miss my godson." I laugh and roll my eyes, giving Quincy a playful shove on the shoulder. "Works for me. And yes, I'll bring Eddie if the 'Client' won't mind a toddler running around the studio space while we work." Q chuckles and reclines in his chair. "No, he won't mind. I have a feeling you know who we're working for here?" I nod, and grab my purse off the ground. "Alright, you know it's Michael. I promise he won't mind. He loves kids" I nod, not really looking forward to potentially forcing Michael into Eddie's life out of obligation. I drive home reflecting on the strange chain of events that brought me here in the first place. I pull into the driveway and unlock the door. I drop my things on the floor where I stand and catch my little boy running into my arms. "Mommy! Me and April painteded! Come see! Come see!" He wiggles out of my arms and drags me to the fridge by my wrist. He bounces where he stands as I look at his painting. It was surprisingly detailed for a three year old. I smile proudly at him as I turn to my sitter, April. "Thank you for watching him so last minute. I really appreciate it." She just smiles at me and grabs her purse from the table. "Oh, Ms. L/N, it's really no trouble. Eddie is just the best kid ever. He was so funny during lunch. I had the radio playing while we ate and he just sat there, dancing in his seat. He didn't even realize he was doing it! But honestly, he is the easiest kid I have ever watched." I pay her and walk her out to her car parked on the street. I turn back to Eddie with a smile. "Wanna eat and watch a movie tonight with Mommy?" My blessing nods his head so hard and fast, I think it'll fly off like a bobble head with a loose spring. "Alright bud, what do you want for dinner?" "PIZZA!" I chuckle at my little boy. "Alright, pizza it is."

I buckle Eddie in the backseat, and climb into the front seat myself. "We're gonna see Uncle Q today buddy! Mommy has to make some music, but you get to hang out with us!" He kicks his legs in the air and gives a shout of excitement. "Yay Uncle Q!" I turn on the radio and look over my shoulder to pull out of the driveway to get to the studio. Parking, I pull the keys out of the ignition and grab Eddie, reminding him to put his backpack on. I hold his hand as we make our way to the studio, the front empty. I sit Eddie down on the chair and go to grab a cup of coffee from the lobby. "I'll be right back baby. I'm gonna get some coffee, and find Uncle Q ok?" He nods and swings his legs in the chair. I hand him the truck from his bag and kiss his forehead before leaving.

I bumped into Quincy in the hall after getting my coffee and went back to the studio space together. When we opened the door, a slim caramel skinned man was kneeling before my son, talking and laughing with him. At the sound of the door opening, Eddie glanced at us. "Mommy! Uncle Q! I made a new friend! His name is Michael, like me!" I widen my eyes in shock at his innocent chatter. Quincy scoops up his godson and chuckles. "Oh yeah Eddie? And what did you guys talk about?" Eddie wraps his arms around Q's neck. "We talked about drawing! Michael is very really good at coloring!" Q humors his godson, chuckling at the boy who has him wrapped around his little finger. While the two talk Michael lifts himself from the ground and introduces himself. "Hi, I'm Michael. I don't think we've been introduced." He sticks out his hand and I feel conflicted. I was so afraid of him noticing me, connecting the dots, but it hurt a bit that I meant so little to him. In his defense, it was one night, four years ago. I grasp his hand and introduce myself again. "Y/N. I'm mixing for your album with Q. You've already met my son, Eddie." He shakes my hand, and smiles back at Eddie. "He's a joy. I was recording and didn't know he was here. I look up and little guy's just dancing in his seat like crazy. He was just coloring on a blank sheet of paper. Sweet kid." I nod and swallow. "Let's get to work, shall we?" Michael nods and goes to the soundboard to listen to the new version of "Leave Me Alone". I watch Michael bob his head to the rhythm, as Eddie dances in the corner. I nibble and pull on my lips in a nervous tick. The music fades out and Michael looks at Q and I with a smile. "Awesome guys! Just what I wanted. I want Y/N as my mixer for the rest of the album. That good Quincy?" Quincy bounces Eddie in his lap, grinning. "Of course it's good! Gotta teach my godson the ropes right?" I smile and ruffle Eddie's hair lovingly, nodding along. Q, Eddie, and I occupy the main front of the studio space as Michael goes back to record another track.

The day goes by quickly, Q leaving the three of us alone to grab lunch. I sit at the recording desk and write down a few lyrics here and there, a melody and message in my head dying to get out. I glance over at my son and see him and Michael goofing around. I smile sadly, imagining what our lives would be like if Michael didn't leave that morning, if he knew he had a son with me. I guess I didn't realize how long I had been staring at the two until my son met my eyes, causing him to run to me in a comforting manner. "Mommy, what's wrong?" I shake off the sadness and force a smile on my face to keep my caring boy from worrying over me. "I'm fine baby. Just a bit tired. It may be Mommy's nap time soon." He nods and giggles, kissing my cheek before going back to Michael. Michael picks up Eddie, placing him on his hip, and walks towards me. 'Hey, Y/N, if you want, you can take a nap in the recording studio. I've got a couch back there. I can come and get you when Quincy comes back with lunch. I try to turn down his offer, but a yawn interrupts my objection. Michael gently guides me to the studio and sits me down on the couch, exiting and turning the lights out on the way. Against my wishes, I close my eyes and succumb to the peace of sleep.

I groggily pulled myself from the depths of dreamland at the sounds of people talking and laughing. I heard Eddie and Michael talking and it immediately caught my attention. "So, your mom makes music, your Uncle Q makes music, what does your dad do?" I peek out from the window and see Eddie and Michael sitting on the floor, rolling toy trucks around, a takeout container setting on the desk. "I don't know. I don't have a dad. Mommy plays Mommy and Daddy. She goes to all my games, plays with me, teaches me how to put on shoes." From where I stand, I can't see Michael's face, and I decide now is a good time to get back out there. I open the door and both boys look up at me. I glance at my watch and see that it's about time to go home. "Hey, sorry I slept so long. Why didn't you wake me up?" Michael shrugs and stands. "You looked so peaceful while you slept. Didn't want to wake you, let alone let you drive home tired. Lunch got here not too long ago so your food should still be warm. I was actually about to head home myself if you're ok with coming in tomorrow instead? We can keep working." I nod and grab my container. "In case I get here before you, what are you wanting to do with the other tracks?" I eat my food as he goes over what he wants to be done with a couple other songs to be put on the album. Now finished with my food, I throw away my empty container, asking Eddie to pack up so we can head home. Before we leave, Q comes back in, sad that we have to leave so soon. I promise to bring Eddie back tomorrow if that's alright with Michael, which it of course is. I give a hug to Q, and an awkward hug/handshake maneuver to Michael. Eddie practically tackles the both of the men in hugs and races to grab my hand. As we leave, I can faintly hear Michael tell Q "She seems so familiar, like I've met her before."

Taglist: @accio-boys

#michael jackson #michael jackson imagine #michael jackson x reader #80's series #80s imagines #80's imagine #80's x reader #80's fanfiction

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nancywheelxr · 4 years

Note

For Sokka/Zuko prompt (2/?): Sokka saving Zuko after miscalculation how long he can hold his breath during the North Pole Siege

anon, like i said before, you are an angel and I hope you like this

Sokka is going to kill Aang.

No, seriously, he means it, the next time he sees the kid, he’s going to murder him because this is all his fault. It has to be, because there is no other explanation for this except Aang beginning to rub off on him. There really, really isn’t.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he murmurs, dragging Zuko out of the freezing water and away from the cracking ice. Honestly, the guy is heavier than he looks and Sokka bets it must be the crushing weight of all those issues. “Should’ve let you drown, asshole.”

And you know what? He stands by that. The little voice at the back of his head that sounds annoyingly like Aang be damned, Sokka should have taken one look at the jerk, incandescent hands slamming against the thick ice, too cold in the freezing water to properly melt the frozen floor, wide eyes blinking sluggishly, and, and– okay, fine. Maybe Sokka couldn’t look the other way and pretend he didn’t see him.

Still. He resents Aang for not being there to convince him to save the guy and let Sokka advocate for the drowning. You know, for argument’s sake, just ‘cause Zuko’s the freaking Fire Nation prince that’s been chasing them all the way since the South Pole and they should at least make an effort to look like they’re doing this under duress.

“Come on, we can’t stay here, wake up, jerk,” well. Sokka can’t stay here, he has a duty and also, the place will be crawling with soldiers soon, but if he leaves Zuko here, there’s no telling if he’ll make it. Do Firebenders get hypothermia? The guy looks hypothermic enough, at least.

Something explodes nearby.

Staying here any longer would be crazy. Sokka eyes Zuko consideringly. “I did my best,” he says, frowning because it sounds weak even to himself and he already knows what he’s going to do, “truly, it’s tragic. I dragged him out of the water, but there was nothing I could do. Too many Fire Nation soldiers around,” he grumbles, heaving one of Zuko’s arms around his shoulder and getting only a faint mumbling in response, “I had to leave him there.”

Just to be clear, though, Sokka is only doing this– he’s only dragging Zuko across the town in the middle of a Fire Nation invasion because he’s gone through all this trouble already to keep the asshole alive, it would be a waste to leave him for dead now. Hey, he didn’t spend five minutes slamming at the ice with his boomerang for nothing, okay?

“What were you thinking anyway?” He asks him, because the only thing worse than be dragging your nemesis around is to be dragging your nemesis around in silence. “Stupid firebender swimming around. At night! Were you trying to die?”

Another mumble. At least that’s better than the wheezing sound from when he first came out of the water, he figures.

“And I mean, it’s pretty clear this whole thing isn’t your doing,” he continues, ducking under a bridge to avoid the worst of the fight, “it’s way too organized, and honestly? Last time we checked, you didn’t have an entire fleet with you.”

And, not the Sokka would say it aloud, but it just doesn’t seem like something Zuko would do. From what they’ve seen of the guy so far, he’s less about conquering and invading, and more like capture the Avatar, restore my honor, blah, blah, blah. Which makes bringing him straight to Aang probably a very stupid thing.

Damn.

He groans. What’s he supposed to do now? Zuko’s a dead weight at his side and he has no idea where Yue and the others went, even though he’s supposed to be protecting Yue. And Katara. And Aang.

Instead, here he is, shuffling into another alley. “This is all your fault,” he glares at the still unconscious moron prince. “Yours and Aang’s. There’s a blizzard outside, did you know?! What, you were just going to get Aang and walk out on the snowstorm?!”

Zuko still doesn’t answer him. He does begin to shiver, though, so that’s something? Better than hypothermia, that’s for sure. Still, Zuko’s shivering and looking sad in his wet clothes, and this is something, at least, that Sokka can help. He can take his own fur coat and drape across him.

“Yeah, you didn’t really think this one through, did you?” He sighs, letting his head thump lightly against the wall behind him. “Me neither, buddy. I’m supposed to be looking after the princess, but I’ve got no idea where they went. I guess I’m looking after you instead, huh? I’m not happy about it either, trust me.”

If only he had some sort of rope– Sokka groans. How does he keep getting in these situations? He levels Zuko with a resentful look. “Why is it always you?” Looking at Zuko now, though, it’s pretty hard to muster much anger. He doesn’t look very intimidating like this– his hair is falling out of his ponytail and his face is paler than usual, his scar stark against the white. Actually, he looks a lot younger like this. Aang had called him a teenager when they met him, but Sokka thinks this might be the first time he’s ever thought of him like that. It’s pretty messed up. Zuko can’t be much older than Sokka– a year? Maybe less? Oddly, it makes him wonder how did he end up here, like this, hunting Aang in a banged up warship and only his Uncle along. Shouldn’t a prince have like, more back up?

Not that Sokka is complaining, it could be a lot worse than Zuko, it could’ve been someone like freaking Zhao. He doesn’t think Zhao would have kept his promise not to destroy his village back in the South Pole. Actually, the guy would’ve probably started with the destroying and left the questions for later.

A hoarse shout shakes off that line of thinking pretty quick.

Zuko wakes up all at once– one second he’s lying motionless on the ice, chest rising and falling steadily faint, pale and pitiful wrapped in Sokka’s furs, and the next he’s fumbling with the cloth, tangling himself further with frantic movements. His eye zeroes in on Sokka, widening as far as they go for a split moment, and managing only a flickering flame with his trembling hands, probably too busy heating up to do any proper firebending.

“Oh, goody, you’re alive,” Sokka says, choosing to let the sarcasm bleed on his voice and quietly grip his boomerang a little tighter, just in case.

“What,” Zuko coughs up, and the shivering is back, and Sokka doesn’t think he means to be furrowing further into the coat like that. “Where– you. What have you done to me?”

Yeah, Sokka should probably have seen that one coming. Still, “hey! I saved your life! You did all the drowning yourself, buddy!”

Zuko frowns. Hysterically, Sokka kind of wants to smooth that out, go back to the young look from before. The frown is a very angsty one, though, and full of suspicion, which is fair, all things considered, but he still takes offense. They’re the good guys, after all, they’re not the ones doing the invading.

Spirits, the invasion. Sokka doesn’t have time for this, he needs to find Katara and Aang, he needs to find Yue, he needs–

“Why?”

He blinks. “Why what?”

“You said you saved me,” Zuko is still sounding worse for wear, rough and cracking at the edges, but there’s some color returning to his cheeks, the shivering finally dying down.

And isn’t that the question? Well, not really. It’s what Aang would have done and that’s usually a pretty good moral compass. Sokka shrugs, “it was the right thing to do. You’re a jerk, but even you didn’t deserve to die like that.”

Zuko doesn’t seem to know what to do with that information, faint steam wafting off his now dry clothes, and Sokka has half a mind to ask for his coat back, a weird tightness on his chest the only thing holding him back– the same odd feeling that sort of made the Aang excuse taste a tiny bit like a lie.

No time to dwell on that, though. Before Zuko could brood some more or throw any other wild accusation, a shadow falls over the both of them, Zuko’s weird uncle pausing at the start of the alley and taking in the scene. His face kind of does a complicated thing where he looks like he wants to bundle Zuko on his arms in the tightest hug in the country but knows Zuko would probably like, throw a fit and then die of dramatic indignation, and Sokka feels like maybe he shouldn’t be witnessing this, especially because the angry jerk is looking like he maybe wouldn’t go so far as dying if hugs were to be involved.

“Nephew,” the old man says, and the relief is his voice is palpable, “you are alive– I feared–”

“I’m fine, Uncle,” Zuko cuts in, getting up in wobbly legs and giving Sokka a wide berth as he inches his way along the wall.

“I owe you a great debt, young man,” he continues, now turning to Sokka with such a grateful face, it’s really hard to remember he’d been doing some chasing the Avatar just weeks ago. He looks so normal. “You saved him when most would not and for that, I can never thank you enough.”

“Uncle!”

“Erm, you’re welcome?” Sokka clears his throat, loosening his rip on the boomerang, suddenly awkward.

“Have you thanked him yet, Prince Zuko?”

“I–”

Iroh– well, Sokka thinks that his name, at least– doesn’t glare, but his eyebrows do a very disappointed move and Zuko seems to cave like a sullen teenager. It’s kind of great. And very surreal, honestly, Sokka is kinda just rolling with it at this point. “Thank you,” Zuko bows, making a very fire nation-y sign with his hands, adds softer, “Sokka.”

“Huh, you do know my name.”

A loud explosion interrupts whatever retort Zuko had been planning, and Iroh grimaces. “I’m afraid we are running out of time,” the grave expression seems foreign in his face and Sokka feels a terrible dread in the pit of his stomach, “Zhao plans on doing the unthinkable– he is going to kill the moon spirit.”

Well, it’s official, then. Zuko’s just been demoted from the worst to pass on the title to Zhao. “Is that even– I mean, how?”

“The Avatar,” Zuko says, but it’s a weak complaint, even he knows stopping the murder of an ancient spirit ranks a bit higher, like immediate catastrophe higher. “Fine,” he snaps, hands curling into fists, “but Zhao is mine.”

Okay, because that sounds like it’s not going to blow up on their faces at all. Not that it matters, because Sokka knows that it’s a done deal now. There’s something urgent in the air, pressing down on them, almost buzzing with the expectations of a tragedy. They’ll need all the help they can get if they mean to stop Zhao’s idiotic plan.

Sokka looks at Iroh, at Zuko. He’s still wearing the fur coat, stretched across his shoulders, sleeves too short at his wrists.

“You guys,” he feels the need to say, “are the worst. But we should probably hurry up, then.”

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