#it was supposed to be a doodle but my hand slipped oops | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

suitov · 1 year

Text

Tall.

Talllllll.

He'd waited a couple of months in case his growth spurt finally showed itself. (He was still optimistic, but why did it have to take so long?) He'd doodled the hearts in his notebooks, got hold of last year's yearbook just to see what that person looked like in their photo...

(Oddly enough, that'd been a wash. Though technically included, instead of a picture there was just an X and a note that this particular student had missed photo day owing to an accident.)

He'd made so many playlists. (He'd considered Cotton Eye Joe, but it was about a troublesome stud, and he didn't want to think of his... well, fine, call them a crush, might as well admit it... that way. It didn't seem nice.)

He thought he'd basically run down the list of things you were supposed to do when you liked someone from the year above. Obviously not including some of the things in Komaru's mangas, which he was pretty sure didn't happen in real life. He didn't want to become a yandere anyway! He just... well... wished senpai would notice him...

I really am so really, totally average and boring! he'd thought, and then, because feeling hopeless had never come easily to him, he'd decided to do something about it. Take action! Like a strong, macho, tall shounen hero!

So he'd slipped an anonymous note into their locker. Like a brave, tall, etc.

He peeped around the corner under cover of picking up an assortment of books, papers and sticker sheets scattered by a broken bag strap, which was an entirely believable occurrence. He'd had to wave off several kind classmates who wanted to help him.

Eventually, his target... no, bad word choice. His crush appeared. For some reason, there were sticking plasters all over his face and even a few bruises. He tried to do what Kyoko did and deduce what'd happened, but he must not be very good at it because he doubted the school would allow some kind of huge clawed predatory animal on campus, surely(?)...

But then his crush opened the locker, found and read the note, and did something totally unexpected.

His face, the same cute face seen in a hundred daydreams, crumpled. He covered his expression with a sleeve, as if ashamed to be seen with anything other than the habitual cute smile Makoto had been hoping for, and rushed away from his locker.

In Makoto's direction, as it happened. Right towards all the dropped -- oops! -- and tripped right on his face at his feet.

Not how Makoto had hoped to make a cute boy fall for him.

"N-Nagito! Are you okay?" The panic was, at least, enough to shatter his shyness.

Nagito let himself be helped up as far as his knees. "Sorry," he said, and seemed to be trying way too hard to sound normal. "How clumsy of me. Let me tidy these..."

"It's fine!" Makoto scooped up everything in some haste and shoved the crumpled collection back in his bag. "That wasn't even you... what's wrong?"

Nagito's cute, upset eyes, more green than grey under the fluorescent tubes, darted here and there. "Ah, just in a hurry to... deliver a note for someone." His hand, on his knee, clenched a familiar paper. "Which I'd better go and do before the next class starts! So if you'll accept my apologies for not paying more attention..."

Makoto could have let the excuse stand. He could let his senior save face. He could let it go.

And then he'd never know why his dumb love confession caused that moment of pure misery.

No! He couldn't let this go!

"Nagito, uh... could you please..." He hastily cracked open the nearest classroom door and, by luck, found it vacant. "...c-come in here for a minute!" Nagito definitely looked reluctant. "Please?" he said again, lamely, and plucked at his blazer sleeve.

"I..." Nagito seemed to be looking for an excuse. But maybe Makoto's pleading look (Celeste called it "perma-puppy-face", but that was wrong; he could be manly when he wanted!) had its effect. Because, without another word, he got up and followed him into the empty room.

"Let's sit down," Makoto said. He pulled a chair back towards the desk behind and straddled it in a mature and trustworthy manner. Nagito sank down at the desk without further protest.

And Makoto was stuck for anything else to say.

"I really must be a pathetic sight," murmured Nagito, "if even someone from the junior year was moved to take pity on me."

Makoto's head jerked up. "Hey! That's not true!"

"Ah... not pity, then. Reproach? Perhaps you're here to bully me?" The paper was whisked out of sight into a pocket. "Normally I'd be happy to oblige, of course... as long as you take it easy on my face, which has already taken its share of damage today. Did you want my lunch money? I have plenty, and I wasn't hungry anyway."

How was he supposed to react to this... frankly worrying kind of talk? Makoto showed his palms frantically. "No, no! I don't want... you're older and taller than me anyway! If anything, it's me who should still be finding you intimidating!"

Nagito was silent exactly like someone who had noticed the word "still" and was turning it over.

"That's not exactly what I meant," Makoto added, scratching his cheek self-consciously. "Listen, Nagito, I'm worried because it looked like you got upset by something. That's really all! I don't want to do anything to your face. Well, not, I mean... I don't want to beat it up, is what I mean!" Smooching might count as anything, but not right now.

"Well." That word managed to convey a great deal of skepticism and, oh dear, he really hoped Nagito wasn't judging him too hard, because the situation was only going to get awkwarder from here. "That's very kind. But, as I believe I explained, the unseemly hurry on my part was only because I didn't want to be late. So, if that's all?"

This kind of thing was definitely easier in Komaru's manga! The love interest would be pouring her or his heart out on the hero's dumb brown uniformed shoulder and he could go pat pat with his strong reassuring tall hands and declare that everything would be all right...

"It's just," said Makoto, drawing on all his heroic brave courageousness to get the words out, "that what it looked like, actually, um, was that you found a note in your locker that upset you."

He didn't miss the minute twitch of the hand towards the trouser pocket.

"And, uh, that was especially troubling, because it was the one who put m-- I mean, I was the one who put it there." He gave himself full points for gumption, B minus for getting the actual words out.

Unfortunately, Nagito's reaction was... actually more of a non-reaction? His expression closed off like a slammed locker door.

"Uh, Nagito?"

"Well. So you were here to bully me after all. Well played, Makoto Naegi. You truly had my guard down. A one-two punch worthy of the Ultimate Boxer himself." Nagito began to rise to his feet.

"Wait! Please!" Makoto clutched desperately for a sleeve. That had been that same completely unexpected reaction again. "I don't know what you think's happening, but you've got it wrong, Nagito. I'm not here to do anything horrible. Listen, I don't care if you're not into guys or not into me or whatever. I just don't want to see you hurt by some... some lame confession from some nobody..."

Nagito's beautiful eyes were narrowed. But he wasn't leaving just yet! Still a chance to mitigate the damage!

"You don't have to return my feelings, Nagito. I'm not under any illusion that I'm anyone who'd get noticed among all the amazing people here, especially you. Like, you probably get a lot of admirers and stuff, and I'm really not expecting anything from you, so... so please don't be sad or mad at me! I'm sorry for however I upset you!" He kind of wished he did have that puppy face like Celeste said. He'd puppy-eye the heck out of this disaster of a conversation.

Nagito extracted a crumpled fistful of paper from his pocket. He smoothed it out on the tabletop. His eyes, greyer than green but at least not hate-filled, scanned it up and down.

"Makoto. Are you saying," Nagito asked in a flat, lifeless voice without much hope in it, "that this is an honest representation of your feelings?"

"Well, yeah! Obviously... well, I wasn't completely sure how many Es there are in 'beauteous', but other than..." Something was scrabbling increasingly urgently at his scattered attention. "Hold it... are you sa... did you think that was fake?"

Nagito gave no reply.

"Oh my gosh, Nagito, why would you ever think that? When you're so beautiful and graceful and" tall so tall please ruffle my hair and let me kiss you on tiptoe "smart and everything? And you're so cool, you have zippers on your shoes and that wallet chain with the skull, and you even share my talent, except yours seems way cooler and... how am I supposed to not have a crush on you?"

There was a pause.

"It's generally written with an A and two Es, not three," said Nagito.

"Oh. Uh. Sorry."

"Uh." Nagito bit a fingernail. It didn't look like the first time the nail had been bitten.

Is he blushing? If only those bandages weren't hiding half his face...

"I think," said Nagito, "that I have made an entirely characteristic mess of this conversation."

Makoto's laugh startled them both. "That's exactly what I was thinking a minute ago..."

"Right. Uh. Well. I'm sorry that I... all of that. I shouldn't have unloaded on you that way."

"It's fine. It's okay." Though I still don't know why he'd think... that... "Did someone play a trick like that on you before, or...?"

Nagito winced. "It just seemed the obvious conclusion at the time."

What's this guy been through if that was the obvious conclusion? "Well, like I said, it's--"

Out in the hallway, the bell rang.

"--aw, darn. And I didn't even get to ask... um. Would you be okay with talking again later? Find me at lunch? I'm usually with Mondo and Chihiro."

"Huh." Nagito blinked twice. "You actually want to hold a second conversation with me."

"More than two, I hope!" Makoto insisted.

"Hope..." Nagito smiled like he'd said something funny. He didn't get it, but the smile was the important thing. "I'll... speak to you later, then, Makoto Naegi."

"Yay!" Makoto bounced on his seat. "I mean yesss! I mean, uh... yeah, that'd be... cool. Yeah." He beamed toughly at the pretty, pretty guy.

With a shake of his beautiful head, Nagito left the room.

I... I just...

"I just talked to my crush and he doesn't completely hate me, yeeeeah!" Makoto leapt up, danced around and crashed over when his shoelace promptly tied itself around the chair leg.

"You saw nothing," he said to the desk. The desk, cowed by his tallness, said nothing at all.

#makoto naegi #komaegi #nagito komaeda

45 notes · View notes

dourpeep · 3 years

Note

WAIT. I'm losing my mind over that friends to lovers post you reblogged. All I can think about is college Albedo + mutual pining, romantic tension, and friends to lovers OTL

- Leaving little post it notes in his bag or inside the cover of his textbook to tell him to have a nice day or remind him to take care of himself because you know he has a tendency to work too hard sometimes!! And what if he meets up with Sucrose and Timaeus because they like to catch up and sometimes discuss their research or homework, and they see Albedo hiding a grin behind his books and think that he's solved a particularly difficult problem but it's just a cute little note you slipped him when he wasn't looking

- You stay up studying for exams with Albedo and he dozes off on your shoulder so you sit there afraid to move because you don't want to wake him but you're also dying inside

- The two of you go to the library to work but eventually get distracted so it turns into the two you sitting close together on a couch and reading each other sections from your favourite books

- I can also see him as someone who rambles about labs or new research he's absolutely taken by. Weeks later when you mention something he said before, he's a little surprised but you just tell him that you tried your best to understand everything because you know it's important to him and maybe his heart skipped a little

- Going off your headcanons: Albedo looking for little specimens and deciding it could be a fun outing with Klee so she can get some sunshine and you find the two of them in the park. You end up joining them and Albedo's heart softens seeing you and Klee laughing and smiling together!

- I remember this little headcanon you had where he snorts when laughing sometimes and imagine Albedo letting one slip out while he's with you, and Kaeya teasing him later on.

- Eventually, his friends start asking if the two of you are together because of the silent affection and teasing between the two of you. Albedo knows he likes you but he's scared a relationship will ruin everything and you're too important to lose even if it means he never says anything, but little did he know, you have feelings for him too.

Anyway, I hope you have a nice day and week! Sorry about this monster of an ask lmao

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR ALBEDO

NEVER

Like... there are two characters that I seldom, if ever, turn down and that's my beloved Albedo and beloathed Scaramouche- If you don't want me to shut up about a topic??? Like just utter word vomit???? Bring them up. Bring them up, I dare you--

Okay okay okay okay now lemme just--

oops. 1.4k words. Enjoy your headcanon drabbles, courtesy of me being a hard simp for Albedo--

College au Albedo is pretty close to how he normally is! Brilliant, though having difficulties with making friends and keeping said friends, getting carried away with experiments (did you know if you're on good enough terms with the professors, they'll vouch for you so you can use the lab when there aren't classes using them?? Yeah)...so the friendship that you have with him is certainly the closest one he has.

It'd be the kind where you knock on his dorm or apartment door at 11:45pm with some takeout and your textbooks and he'll let you in without a second thought. You slip inside and settle on the floor next to the coffee table cross-legged, setting the food out as if you don't live a good walk away. He wasn't going to sleep any time soon anyway.

Like the kind of friendship where your hand instinctively slips into his to tug him towards something cool you found or to the café where you tend to go after classes.

Even after you get to your destination, you don't let go.

Now that that has been established--the little notes you slip into his bag or on his books really began as a little reminder. Despite his keen intellect, Albedo tends to easily forget things because his mind is always going onto the next thing. So, being the great friend you are, would just slip a note to remind him to take breaks, eat a snack, or that you're supposed to go and meet Sucrose and Timaeus after class to prep for the upcoming exams.

Neither of you really know when they began to turn into doodles or 'seemingly platonic declarations of adoration'. It's normal for friends to write a heart besides "Don't forget I love you!", right? Yeah.

The smile that makes it's way on Albedo's face is unmistakable the moment that Sucrose accidentally stumbles upon a sticky note carefully tucked in one of his notebooks.

Speaking of Albedo and his tendencies to get carried away with stuff, he often functions on...minimal sleep.

Those nights that you pop up at his place to study or just hang out, he often ends up dozing off, glasses sliding uncomfortably down the bridge of his nose and hair tousled out of it's usual style.

You never plan to stay the night (though even when he's awake he insists you do because it's not as safe at night to make the commute home), but you can't just disturb his sleep when it's the first time in a while that he's probably gone without taking a capsule or two of melatonin to help himself back into some semblance of a sleep schedule.

It's these moments that you remember just how soft his hair is and just how nice his shampoo smells.

Also that he's a cuddler.

You awake in the morning, back aching and eyes squinting against the sudden brightness of the world around you and limbs tangled with your best friend. He's unbothered because his face is half-shoved against the crook of your neck.

With the library, you often find yourselves in a little game. There's so much to learn and so, so many topics through the old vanilla-scent found between pages!!

So trips to the library end up with the two of you digging and sifting to find a topic you've never heard of, sit and read for 15 minutes, then proceed to explain said topic the best you can (without looking!!). It almost always ends up with a few chuckles from Albedo as you fumble explaining (and half-making up) information and Albedo's (unfairly) great short-term memory winning out.

Speaking of...between actually studying and your little topic games, Albedo turns to you to bounce off his current observations and ideas. Sucrose and Timaeus, though both in similar majors as Albedo, are busy with their own projects and research to the point that they don't really have the time to help with stuff as extensive as his research.

Annnnd, naturally, since you don't have anything better to do and are almost always by his side, you play that part!

You listen intently no matter how dense the subject may be and no matter if you do or do not have the background knowledge.

When you ask him to explain something you don't quite understand, he can't help but blink in surprise because you were listening??? And wanted to really understand? You prove time and time again (even days, weeks later) that you listened to every word that tumbled out during his rambles.

And of course you do! Albedo's one of the most important people to you, so it's only natural that you want to show interest in his interests.

Also it's pretty cool to find out those random bits of trivia (like lobsters and their repairable telomeres-).

Klee!!!

Oh man, the first time that you met Klee was a pretty hectic day for Albedo. Due to his Aunt Alice's incredibly busy schedule, he tends to care for Klee on days that he doesn't have class.

However, that particular day he just barely finished class before he had to go and pick her up from school.

With you in tow, that is.

Immediately, the little girl brightens up at your presence, no doubt excited from what she's heard about you (listening in to Albedo's conversations with Alice and the embarrassed tone in his voice when he realizes that he's let your name slipped again and now Aunt Alice wants to know about this particular friend who's captured dear little Bedo's attentions). He's relieved when Klee doesn't immediately reveal that.

From then on, Klee insists that Albedo invites you for every outing they have.

The cafe for a quick treat? The bookstore to sit and read a few books?

"Oh, please please please?? Can they come Albedo? Klee promises that she'll be good!"

Who is he to say no?

But above all, those park days are his favorite. You end up running around with Klee, lifting her up so she can reach a particular leaf on a branch, squatting down to see a bug or lizard that she's entirely enthralled by--all while Albedo sits under the shade of a tree on a blanket, sketchbook and pencil in hand.

You don't know it (even though there's many occasions where he's shown you his sketchbook), but the pages are filled with your smile.

Around you, Albedo's found that he's most comfortable.

There's no need to hide insecurities or hold his tongue when something particularly exciting comes to mind...nor does he hold back in his laughter. Especially with your insistence that his laugh is cute.

That scenario with Kaeya is entirely an accident, proof of just how used to your presence he's become.

It's a late night and you're out with a bigger group of friends than usual, some friends that Albedo's only known since the start of college, but definitely good ones.

With a drink in your hand you all sit at a large table, chatting about anything and everything when you crack a joke and Albedo snorts.

Not like a snort with his normally quiet chuckle, either.

Instead, he's laughing hard, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes and stomach hurting (and maybe it's because of the few sips of drink he's had) and he snorts. The moment the sound escapes him and he's trying hard to calm back down, Kaeya grins.

He's most definitely one of the first people to put two and two together.

After all, Albedo keeps to himself, even around them. But with you around? There's a certain spark of life that ignites.

It's no surprise that the two of you are close when all is said and done.

But that doesn't stop either of you from choking and cheeks from flushing when someone asks if you're a couple. It happens often--too often to count--and ranges between Kaeya's teasing comments and a few sweet words from an elderly woman passing by your table at the cafe.

And you laugh--you and Albedo--because no, no, you're just friends.

Right?

Then the light hits your features just right, illuminating you in a soft glow that makes your eyes shine and--

It's undeniable the way that he feels for you. The sudden quickening of his heartbeat is proof enough. You slide your drink towards him for him to try and he does the same, eyes unable to leave your lips as you take a sip and then smile.

Between the cracks of his appreciation, of this warmth, dread seeps.

Though...that was just over a week ago.

Sitting down back at his apartment, your head resting on his chest and your hands intertwined while you watch whatever's on tv, you shift. Your lips meet in a sweet kiss.

And Albedo wonders how neither of you managed to see it sooner.

#anon asks #THE FACT THAT YOU REMEMBER MY ALBEDO HEADCANONS AND STUFF MY HEARTTT #albedo x reader #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact x reader #albedo headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact drabbles #modern au #college au #modern au albedo

317 notes · View notes

noel-but-spooky · 2 years

Text

Me & You || Solo

Timing: A few weeks ago Summary: Two minds in one body isn’t easy to get used to. Erica can be pushy. Noel thinks its probably for the best. Warnings: Emotional Abuse

It was subtle at first, the slight twitch in her hand that caused the line she was drawing to jitter. Noel hit ctrl+z and tried again, but the next time her hand twitched harder, sending her pen sliding across her tablet and crossing a large mark through the face of the character she was sketching. Noel would have sighed in frustration if doing so wouldn’t have seemed...well, perhaps ungrateful was the best word to use. So instead Noel quietly whispered to her empty office: “I’m trying to work, not right now please.”

It felt strange still, talking out loud when no one was there in the room. She kept her voice low, as if out of fear someone might overhear and think she was talking to herself. Noel was always thinking five steps ahead of what actions of hers might make her seem awkward or weird. Nowadays she felt those anxious thoughts growing even stronger. They hadn’t been so bad in Boston, but things were different now. She was back in White Crest after all.

You’ve gotta understand how insanely boring this is for me, El, replied a voice in the back of her mind. Her hand twitched again, and this time she lost full control of it as it doodled a simple frowny face. Noel hit ctrl+z again.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “I’ve just put this off for so long, I really need to get this done before the client starts breathing down my neck.”

Between the funeral and figuring out living arrangements in White Crest and, well, everything, work had fallen on the back burner. And Erica had been using a lot of Noel's time to get used to having a new body, which left little time for Noel to actually get anything done.

Okay, but have you considered you procrastinating isn’t my problem?

Noel wanted to tell the voice ‘I wasn’t procrastinating, I wasn’t in control of that’, but again, that seemed ungrateful. Any complaint did, considering Erica’s circumstances. So instead she said: “Just a half an hour more and we can go do something else.”

Erica wasn’t happy with that answer.

Oops! said the voice as the tablet pen was suddenly tossed on the floor. Noel winced as it hit the wood, and quickly retrieved it to make sure it wasn’t broken.

Come on El, I’m going to die again if I have to sit here watching you draw all day. Let’s go out.

Her pen wasn’t broken. Noel sighed with relief and then nodded slowly.

“Yeah, okay.”

Nearly before she even finished uttering the words Noel felt her body jerk, then her mind slipped back into some hazy in-between space. It felt vertigo-like, but only for a second. Then it felt like being in a dream, watching herself in third person as her body got up from the desk, stretched, and moved towards the door.

“You need to stretch more,” said Erica, only it was coming out of Noel’s mouth now, using her own voice. It was still strange to hear. The way Erica spoke was too loud, too confident, so unlike Noel, yet it was still her voice.

Yeah, she responded in Erica’s head and drifted further back into her own mind as Erica got ready to go out. Leave it to Erica to have to remind her to take care of herself. Maybe Erica was better at this whole being Noel thing than she was. It wouldn’t be the first time Noel had thought that since this arrangement started.

“We need to get you new clothes.” As Erica spoke Noel slipped back into focus to find her going through her closet, picking through things and groaning with dissatisfaction.

Are my clothes really that bad?

“They aren’t bad just... how do I put this in a nice way?” Erica put down the dress she was holding and walked towards the bathroom, stopping at the mirror. “Look at you.”

Um, okay. It wasn’t like Noel had much of a choice but to stare at where Erica directed her eyes. She wasn’t a big fan of mirrors. It wasn’t that she thought she looked bad per say, but she supposed she was always prone to self-consciousness. Better just to avoid them.

“You’re cute.”

Oh, um, thanks.

“Which is amazing when you put, like, zero effort into how you look. Think of what you’d look like if you gave a shit.”

Noel wasn’t quite sure how to take that comment. Was that meant to be backhanded? Regardless, Erica was probably right.

“I’ll get you new clothes. Maybe even get you a new haircut.” Erica ruffled her hair, and leaned closer to the mirror, inspecting Noel’s face like she would her own. “We’ll look great.”

Um, yeah. Maybe.

Was Erica actually going to cut her hair? That was probably just a suggestion. Or a joke. Noel almost asked but nerves got the better of her and the moment passed as Erica left the bathroom and continued getting ready. But if Erica was being serious...well maybe change would good. Erica seemed to have a better handle on everything in comparison to Noel. If she thought it was for the best then maybe it was.

As if sensing Noel’s thoughts Erica chuckled and said: “You’re lucky you have me to help you out again, you’re always so clueless when I’m not around.” Noel could feel her own face stretch into a wide grin. “What would you do without me?”

I’m happy to be back. Noel meant it, she really did. I missed us hanging out. As always, Erica was right. What would she do without her old friend?

#wickedswriting #solo: me & you #solo #writing #emotional abuse tw

3 notes · View notes

galahadwilder · 5 years

Text

Officiated, Ch. 7

Enjoy my writing? Sponsor a fic chapter!

Officiated Archive

AO3

“You’re stalling,” Plagg says, cuddling up to Adrien’s computer mouse. It’s an awkward position—he has to put his head partially through the plastic in order to properly clutch it between his tiny paws.

”Yes,” Adrien says. “I’m stalling. I know I’m stalling.” He twists the ring on his hand, staring at the monitors—the Ladyblog ship forums. It’s the last time he’s going to be able to look at them. “Thank you, Plagg.” It’s not his turn to patrol tonight, but—but he has to see her anyway. Rip off the band-aid.

”You’re welcome,” Plagg responds, apparently having missed his sarcasm. He scootches upward and starts gnawing on the mouse cable.

Adrien grits his teeth. “You won’t eat cheddar because it’s ‘the wrong cheese,’ but you’ll eat rubber?” he snaps.

Plagg looks up at him, then back at the wire, then back at him. “Mouse,” he says, pointing at it. Then he points back at himself. “Cat.”

”That’s not how that works and you know it,” Adrien grumbles.

“Works well enough for—oop!” Plagg suddenly vanishes, like he’s been sucked into the mouse, and Adrien’s heart stops. “Plagg?” he whispers. “You okay?”

”Shut up I’m hiding!” the computer mouse hisses back.

Hiding? From what—?

Four red knuckles knock on his window.

Adrien shrieks, flinging himself backward away from his desk and accidentally rolling himself halfway across the floor, right into the middle of the room, where he’s completely exposed.

In his Ladybug jammies.

He locks eyes with her and his ears start to burn as she closes her eyes and giggles, the sight of which sends sparks shooting through his veins. She’s holding a familiar box in her free hand—a pastry box of some kind, probably a cake?

”Well?” she says with a voice like springtime. “Are you going to let me in?”

Adrien’s jaw drops. “Uh... I, um... yeah!” he manages, surging to his feet. “Lemme just—hang on, I need to...” He dives for the window latch, scrabbling at it with stiff fingers, before finally swinging open the glass pane.

Ladybug steps into his room like a ballerina, all grace and poise—then she slides the box out of her hand onto the desk, and immediately her posture shifts. “Ugh,” she says. “Carrying things over rooftops sucks.”

He narrowly avoids saying mood. She’s not supposed to know who he is, after all—

Wait. Speaking of. “What—what are you doing here?” he says. Then he realizes what he sounded like and throws up his hands. “Not! Not that I mind!” Oh, cats, he’s going to implode. “In fact I’m really happy you’re here—” Why did you say that get it together Agreste! “—it’s just.. unexpected?”

Ladybug launches herself into his recently vacated chair with a smirk, kicking back and crossing her arms behind her head. “What, I can’t visit my favorite civilian?”

Adrien gulps. “F-favorite?”

Ladybug’s smirk widens. “Aww, beau gosse,” she purrs. “Your face is as red as my suit.”

Adrien moans, covering his eyes with his hands. “Kill me now.”

”Ugh, mood,” Ladybug says. “You always turn me into mush, you know that?”

Always? When did... Always? How often has she seen him out of the mask? As far as she knows, she’s only spent a few minutes with Adrien at most—much less than she ever has with Chat. Is this a celebrity thing, or... “Do you know me?” he says. “In real life, I mean.”

Ladybug freezes. Then slips down the chair, her butt squeaking forward across the leather. “Should’ve—practiced more,” she grumbles, not meeting his eyes.

Cat in a Camembert trashcan. It’s taking everything he has not to rush forward and hug her—but that’s... that’s a Chat thing to do. Not an Adrien. He has to be—has to be careful.

He swallows, licks his lips, and very carefully opens his mouth. “What’s—what’s the box... for?”

Ladybug closes her eyes. “I... heard your—your wife... wanted an annulment,” she mumbles. “Consider that a...” Her fingers play against each other, hexagonal spandex squeaking. “An apology gift.”

”Did you give apology gifts to everyone?” he says, reaching for the box. White paperboard. Tom & Sabine’s logo.

”No,” she whispers. “No, just you.”

His fingers quiver just over the box. What—? Why him? She’s—he’s not Chat Noir right now, he’s Adrien. And he loves her, so much, so very, very much, but why in Plagg’s name does he rank so highly for her?

”Just open the box, Adrien,” she says, like it’s a prayer. Like his name is something sacred.

His heart squeezes in his chest. He can’t—if she feels...

His fingers slide in between the top of the box and the walls, and it flips open. He was right—it’s a cake, chocolate. Green lettering across the top.

GOOD LUCK RETURNING ME WITHOUT THE RECEIPT!

”W-What?” he says, staring. There’s a black cat peeking through the Os, like eyes. And a... doodle of a... burning piece of paper? It’s got two sets of initials on it, ALA and MDC. That first one is his.

The cake has a familiar pink rose design across the side, and he knows he should recognize it but his brain won’t let him.

”I... I turned 18 two months ago,” Ladybug says, soft and quiet.

He blinks, turns around. “What do you—?”

Marinette blushes in her pajamas, meeting his eyes for a half second before dropping them to her feet, shrinking into the leather of the chair. “Hi, Chaton,” she says with a shy smile. “Surprise.”

Enjoy my writing? Buy me a coffee!

Officiated Archive

144 notes · View notes

jamiebluewind · 4 years

Text

A Flame In The Dark: Chapter 2

Fandom: Dimension 20, Fantasy High

Word Count: 3575

Perspective: Riz

Chapter 1 (sorry it wont format!): https://jamiebluewind.tumblr.com/post/189152152044/a-flame-in-the-dark-chapter-1

Notes: Hurt/Comfort. This chapter is much fluffier than the last, but still mind the tags! Special thanks to my beta readers @plutosfury and @winterpower98

Characters: Riz Gukgak, Fig Faeth, Adaine Abernant, Tracker O'Shaughnessey, Sandra Lynn Faeth, Cathilda Ceíli, Boggy the Froggy, and unnamed OC (implied Fabian, Kristen, Gorgug, and Ragh)

Chapter Warnings: cursing, violence mention, murder mention, abuse mention, healed injuries, child abuse mention, child neglect, recovering from starvation, dark themes, trauma, bugs as food (please message me if I missed any)

Summary: The group makes it back to camp, Riz still cradling their guest.

*****

Check out this awesome art inspired by Chapter 1!

https://jamiebluewind.tumblr.com/post/189168730249/winterpower98-drew-some-doodles-of-the-little

https://plutosfury.tumblr.com/post/189155204080/i-was-told-by-a-certain-someone-cough

*****

By the time they reached camp, Riz's arms were aching. He was never the strongest one in the group and the sleeping child in his arms had tested what little strength he did have. It wasn't a weight thing. She was actually very light (if he was honest, she probably weighed less than his briefcase). It was just a combination of things. Post battle fatigue. Hiking for a couple hours. Tired muscles holding something in an odd position. It was worth it though. She looked like she hadn't slept in a long time and needed a nap more than he needed arms that didn't hate him.

He had actually been planning on getting her some food out of his pack after she was healed. She would be hungry then and the food would be less likely to come back up. What he hadn't planned on was her dozing off in his arms. He wondered what had been going on in her little body that Fig's magic had targeted. Whatever it was, the relief she felt was enough to make her fall asleep so hard that she was dead to the world. It took both arms to carry her after that.

He shifted, leaning his body back so that more of her weight was on his chest, and held her awkwardly for a moment while he placed his now free hand on a nearby rock to help him sit down. Normally he would try to find something to sit on to keep from messing up his clothes, but he was tired and filthy and out of fucks. He let out a breath, his throbbing feet grateful for the relief. He shifted the child a bit to give his arms a break too. She didn't seem to mind... or even wiggle for that matter. Riz got a little chuckle out of it.

The others were off getting everything set up for the night. Tracker was preping the moon haven. The campfire crackled to life as they got out various supplies. Quiet chatter filled the air.

Adaine stood nearby, leaning against a tree. She was quiet, only occasionally adding to the chatter or shaking her head at their friends' antics. The spell she'd been working on for most of the hike was probably ready, but left uncast. Riz smiled. She was probably holding it until the child woke up. She had always been the braincell of the group. He wasn't sure why he was surprised.

Riz wasn't sure how long he had been lost in thought when the smell of food cooking hit him. He felt her twitch and looked down to see a little nose twitch, followed by sleepy eyes blinking open. There was a tiny jump as she took in her surroundings and her brain caught up with what was going on.

[Good morning], Riz said with a smile. She looked up at him with her eyes barely open and yawned. [You up for something to eat?]

Any hint that she was tired was gone in an instant. Her ears perked up and she looked at him with wide eyes. She looked so much like a puppy at meal time that Riz was surprised that she didn't start pawing at his shirt! [You can't have a lot at one time], he told her. Her brows lowered as she gave him an angry pout. [BUT, I'll make sure you get a lot of small meals to keep from overloading your stomach and you can have as much to drink as you want.] After a moment of deliberation, her faced relaxed. He supposed that was as close as he was gonna get to her agreeing with him.

Riz looked towards the campfire and the food cooking over it. It smelled good sure, but a little too heavy and vegetable filled for a goblin who's gone without food for a while. At least he knew how to get her what she needed.

"Hey Adaine," he called out. The elf looked away from the group and over towards Riz. "Could you come over here real quick?"

Adaine leaned up, wiping invisible dust off her legs before she made her way over towards the pair. She slowed as she approached, making eye contact with the child. Oops. He almost forgot. [This is 'Adaine'], Riz told the child. [I need her to come over here. Is that okay?]

The child looked at Adaine and then back at Riz. She watched Adaine as she carefully made her way over and sat down across from them. The child didn't seem to mind Adaine's presence. She looked more curious than anything. Riz wondered if it was a magical ability from Boggy or Adaine herself.

"I have a spell ready for her," Adaine said. She looked at the child as she spoke to Riz, her voice a steady calming tone. "I'll need to use it before I can do anything else. It will allow her to understand us, but only for an hour. I have to touch her for it to work."

Riz nodded and looked down. He rolled the words over in his brain, trying to figure out the best way to phrase it. ['Adaine' can... make you understand what everybody is saying for a little while if you let her touch you. It's kinda like what 'Fig' did, only 'Adaine' doesn't need music to make it work.]

The child was still a moment as she regarded Adaine. Then, she reached out a hand. Adaine slowly reached out, closing the distance. As she touched the small hand, her eyes shone with a blue light. It only lated a moment. The child examined her hand and looked back up at Adaine.

"Hello," Adaine said with a soft smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The child's eyes grew wide as she stared at Adaine. She blinked several times.

"My name is Adaine Abernant," she said to the child. Riz wanted to laugh at how formal she sounded. "I would like to be your friend, if you'll let me of course." The child only responded with more blinking.

"I want to try something," Adaine continued, "just to be sure that you can understand me. I don't want you to feel obligated to talk. You should feel comfortable around us. So all you have to do is nod," she said as she nodded, "or shake your head," she said, demonstrating. "A nod means yes. A head shake means no. Do you understand?" There was a pause followed by a single curt nod. There was a reason that Adaine was the braines of the party. "Fantastic," she said with a smile.

"Now," Adaine said, turning her attention towards Riz, "I understand that there was something you wanted to ask me?"

Riz had almost let it slip his mind. "We need to get some fluids in her," he said. "Some food too. Could you get her some of that electrolyte stuff for kids to start?"

Adaine nodded and reached in her pocket. She pulled out a plain water bottle filled with slightly thick liquid and handed it to the child. The child tilted her head and reached out, sticking her hand in Adaine's pocket only to jerk a bit and lean over farther, speading the pocket open to look inside. Adaine hid a laugh behind her hand.

"It's a magical jacket," Adaine told her. "I can pull things I want out of it... as long as they aren't too expensive." Adaine blinked and looked like she had an idea. "I'll pull out a few things for you if you let me get you cleaned up first."

The child considered for a moment and then nodded. Adaine cast prestidigatation. Riz was thankful that he was in range.

The child's hair seemed to expand as the weight of the mud was lifted. Her tangle of curls were redish-orange at the base, but transitioned into a pale orange at the end. It was like she was suddenly haloed by a mass of warm flame.

The color of her skin was also a surprise. Before, she had reminded him of a caramel latte, but underneath the dirt and grime was something closer to butterscotch. It was a warm yellow-orange that complemented her bright hair.

The child held up a hand to examine her clean skin. Riz cursed himself for being too perceptive. Without the dirt in the way, he could see scars litterered across her skin. Some were faded and small. Others looked like they must have been deep when they were fresh. He felt the rage trying to bubble up in him again as he silently wished that he had taken his time killing that bastard. Breathe in. And out. Just be grateful he's dead now. And in hell. Definitely in hell... where Bill Seacaster is. Huh. Maybe Fabian's dad would be willing to double murder him? The thought helped him relax a little.

"Much better," Adaine said with a nod. "I'll get you some better clothes after you've had something to eat. Oh Riz?" she asked.

"Hum?" Riz answered, still a bit lost in thought.

"What would be safe for her to eat?" Adaine asked. "I'm honestly unfamiliar with goblin dietary needs and you always seem willing to eat anything, so I'm at a bit of a loss."

Riz thought back to all the times he was sick as a kid. What food his mom would fix. What to avoid. "Probably meat with no salt and not a lot of fat," he said. "Chicken. Ham. That kind of thing. Maybe some rice... oh!" he said and then blushed. This was gonna be a little embarrassing to explain. "A lot of goblin moms make this dish when their kids get sick. It's... kinda like a rice ball?" He screwed his face. "No. Not exactly. But similar enough I guess. It is a ball of rice. Sometimes the rice is mixed with cricket flour, but not always. They also have this... bug filling. Like a puree of earthworms, crickets, meal worms... it's easy on our stomachs and has a lot of protein. Plants too, but they have already been broken down, so they wont bother us when we have a sick stomach. We... call them bug balls."

Riz stopped and looked up at Adaine. He expected to see her wrinkling her nose as most people do, but she looked more curious than anything. She thought for a moment before reaching her hand in her pocket and pulled out what looked to be three bug balls. She looked over at the child, about to say something when a little hand bolted out and grabbed one. It was gone in a flash. "I was going to say that maybe Riz should test these first," she said, covering up the remaining two to avoid them being snatched up as well, "but I guess you made that decision for me." She shook her head, unable to hide her smile. "Riz?" she asked, holding out one of the remaining balls, "Would you mind?"

Riz took the bug ball and bit down. It was hard not to inhale his food like he normally did, but he needed to make sure they were made right. "Not bad," he said as he ate the rest in a blink of an eye. "Maybe a little less salt? At least until she's feeling better." He looked down at the kid eyeing the remaining ball. "You can have the other one later," he told her. She pouted. "We gotta make sure your stomach handles the first one okay." He picked up the sports bottle and handed it to her, "For now, have some of this."

She looked at the bottle and tilted her head. Riz fought the urge to facepalm when he realized she wouldn't know what to do with it. "Like this," Riz said as he pulled a drink from the bottle and then handed it to her. She examined the bottle, took a drink,... and then made a terrible face, shaking her head at the bottle.

Adaine laughed. "I don't believe she's used to sweets," she said, pulling another water bottle out of her pocket. "This one," she said, pointing to the new bottle, "is just plain water. I'll refill it as much as you like, but I would also like you to finish the other bottle... if you can."

The child hesitantly took the new bottle and took a sip before nearly sucking it dry, squeezing the bottle to make the water come out faster. Adaine pulled a large container of water out of her pocket and refilled the bottle before handing it back to her.

"Could I share some tea with her later?" Adaine asked. Amber eyes looked at her, waiting on an explanation. "Oh! Hum..." she said, pausing to think. "Tea is like... well... you take hot water and mix special flowers or leaves with it to make it taste different." The child's brows furrowed at this. "It can also do stuff like... help you sleep or keep you awake. It depends on the flower or leaf." A nod followed.

"I don't see why not," Riz answered. "Just... maybe avoid the sugar."

A cheeky grin spread across Adaine's face. "I was planning on her actually drinking it, Riz," she said with a smirk.

The child handed Adaine the empty water bottle. She refilled it again and handed it back. The child put it back to her mouth and lazily sucked at the bottle, her desperation mostly gone.

Adaine looked at the child, studying something for a few moments before reaching into her coat. She pulled out a handfull of solid colored cloth and held it up for inspection. It was a simple sleeveless sundress. Instead of the fiery color Riz was expecting it to be, the dress was closer to a cornflower blue mixed with a splash of green. It looked soft, contrasting the rough burlap tunic she was currently wearing. The bottom hung losely, reminding Riz of a flower petal. There was a decent sized half moon pocket in the center of the chest, stitching dividing it into two smaller sections.

"Well?" Adaine asked, looking from the dress to the child. "What do you think?" Adaine was met with wide eyes and an enthusiastic nod. "Well then, let's get you out of those rags and into something fancy!"

The child stood up and took off her borrowed hat, placing it gently on Riz's lap. She grabbed the bottom of her tunic and Riz barely had time to look away before she pulled it off.

He realized then that the others had been watching the three of them as the group of teens made little sounds of surprise before turning their heads, save Fig who just said "huh." which he found a little weird. The adults mostly seemed to get a laugh out of it.

There was a beat of silence. "Oh..." Adaine said. "Hum, well. Oh Riz?" Adaine sounded nervous. "Do um... do goblins normally have tails?"

"Um... no?" Riz answered, a little confused. "I mean, it's a recessive trait. It CAN happen, but it's kinda rare. It's usually just a nub though. Why?" Riz asked. "Does she have one?"

"Yes..." Adaine answered, trailing off. "It's a very nice tail," she said sweetly, probably to the child. "Arms up please!"

"Dude," Fig said. She had moved closer and seemed to be staring at the child. "It aint a nub. It's long enough for her to wear it like a belt!" Riz's eyes went wide. I mean, sure it was possible. There were a few tribes scattered about that had them. He had just never seen one in person.

"Dude... you look so cool!" Fig said enthusiastically. "I hope if I ever grow a tail, it looks as cool as yours. You should leave it out. Show it off."

"Is it safe for me to look now?" Riz asked, still facing away.

"Oh!" Adaine answered. "Sorry Riz. Yes. You can look now."

Riz turned around and looked at the child. The dress fit her well, the bottom hanging lose and moving as she twisted softly side to side. Her hands were stuffed in pockets hidden in the folds of the dress, her shoulders hunched forward. The dress hung past her knees. A slinder tail hung down past the end of the dress, curling up to avoid the ground. The tail twitched slightly, maybe from anxiety over having it exposed, maybe just because of nerves in general. Riz tried not to imagine why she would feel the need to hide it under her clothes. He failed.

"You look great!" Riz said with a bit too much enthusiasm. "I like all the pockets. And it looks soft." She smiled just a crack and nodded as she continued to sway and watch the dress move.

"It cool," Fig said, tapping her chin, "but it could be cooler." She pulled out her bag and started digging for... something. Amber eyes watched her as she pulled out random jewelry, shaking her head and muttering to herself as she went. "Ah ha!" she said as she came up triumphant. She held up a necklace with a long dark chain. Hanging below it was an orange teardrop pendant, sparkling in the light. "Bought this back on Leviathan," she stated as she looked towards the child. "It was practically MADE for you. You want?"

The child paused before responding with an enthusiastic nod. Fig walked over and crouched down before handing over the necklace. The child held it up, examining the stone. Fig stayed crouched as she looked, waiting until amber eyes met hers. "You're supposed to wear it," Fig said pointing at the necklace. She was answered with a curious gaze as the child's head tilted to the side.

"Here," Fig said "I'll show you." She took the necklace from tiny hands and put it over the child's head. Despite the long chain, it couldn't get past her massive tangle of hair. It just sat there on top of her curls like a hair accessory. "Holy shit you have a lot of hair!" Fig said with a laugh. She reached out and tossled it a bit with her fingers. The child didn't seem to mind.

"Well," Fig said, patting her thigh, "that didn't work. Let me just..." Fig trailed off as she undid the clasp and put the chain around the child's neck before fastening it back together. "There we go!" she said, once again triumphant. "Looks great on ya kid."

Fig wasn't lying. The fiery stone suited her. She also seemed to love the way the light shined through it and the smooth texture.

While watching her, he caught Adaine fumbling for something out if the corner of his eye. He looked over just in time to see her pull out a large sunhat. "I noticed that the light seems to bother your eyes," she said. "Would this help?"

Tiny hands took the hat and examined it before nodding and placing it on her head. The hair inside the hat squished down to fit, making the hair outside the hat stick out. She adjusted the rim a bit and sighed happily. She nodded at Adaine again. Adaine smiled back.

"Would you like to meet Boggy?" Adaine asked. The child tilted her head. Adaine took out her frog and placed him in the child's lap. He let out a soft ribbit.

"No no no no no..." Riz yelped as he jumped up to place his hand between Boggy and the child's open mouth. "Boggy is not food," Riz clarified. He tried to ignore Adaine's eyes going wide over her pet nearly becoming someone's dinner. "He's a pet." She tilted her head. "Oh, um..." he took a moment to try and think of a way to explain. "A pet is... an animal that you... love? Love. Yeah. And um... they are like a friend. They help you out like... well Boggy helps Adaine not get upset and Baxter," he said, pointing to the griffin, "he can fly and stuff." God he was bad at this.

Somehow, she seemed to get the message. She put her hand on top of the frog. He croaked happily. She looked over at Riz and back at Boggy, the corners of her mouth tilted up slightly. She then started 'petting' the frog. At least, that's what Riz thought she was doing as she repeatedly slapped the frog's back. Boggy didn't seem to mind the rough treatment though, his body squishing and wiggling with the movement. Her eyes sparkled. A little sound escaped from her. It was rough and quiet, but it was without a doubt a giggle. Riz wondered if it was possible to die from cute.

The child stoped in the middle of a 'pet' and scrunched her face in concentration before going back to abusing Boggy. Sandra Lynn and Cathilda hummed in the background like they knew something the others didn't. "Did you remember to put her in pull ups?" Sandra Lynn asked.

"Um... no?" Adaine answered back, a bit confused. Riz however had already connected the dots.

"Well then," Cathilda said, "it's a good thing ya have prestidigatation dear because otherwise that would be a proper mess!"

They looked down at the muddy spot forming on the ground, quickly followed by a very distinct smell.

"Welcome to potty training kids!" Sandra Lynn yelled. She was enjoying this entirely too much.

*****

62 notes · View notes

ununniliad · 4 years

Text

Burst Beetle Tweseveny #4: "2007: The Limits of Infinity and the Time on One's Hands!"

With a PWEEYOOM! a pair of burning tire tracks blasts across the asphalt, and in a stream of flashing colors, Burst Beetle Tweseveny appears!

"Aha! Back to action, and... um..." Tweseveny is alone in a back alley, her only companions a garbage can, a recycling bin, a soiled, broken bottle of Mister Paprika Code Indigo that was clearly supposed to have gone in the recycling bin, and a poster for a slam poetry event. "Hm."

She looks around carefully, and pushes the little red gem below the clock face on her belt, armor disappearing in a burst of amber light. "Well, I suppose one should explore before jumping into a situation."

Burst Beetle Tweseveny takes two confident steps out of the alleyway! And a newspaper flies thru the air and smacks her in the face! "Ackpth!"

She flails around blindly, trips on a banana peel (left there by fellow time-traveler Comedic Banana Peel Man, visiting from the 1940s), and falls backwards into a pile of trash bags.

She peels the newspaper carefully off her face. "Oh... ow." She stares up at the sky for a while. "...ow."

...she stares up at the sky for another while. "...didn't think this sort of thing happened to net.heroes."

Burst Beetle Tweseveny heaves a big sigh, gives a crooked little smile, and stands up. "But I'm still here, and still free." The fingers of her left hand stroke softly over her belt buckle and the phone inside. With her right, she holds up the newspaper and squints at it. "April... 272nd? Wh-- Oh! Of course, this is 2007! It's the Infinite April!"

<<<*>>>

Every day, the Legion has a new leader! Every night, at the stroke of midnight-- they disappear!! Over the days and weeks of an unending April, the Legion struggles to uncover the mysterious force causing them to disappear one by one! Will the dwindling forces of net.heroism be able to overcome this Infinite Leadership Crisis--

--before the last Legionnaire vanishes?!

<<<*>>>

She hops to her feet, tossing the newspaper aside and running her hands thru her hair. "Well, well! It makes sense that if I traveled to 2007, I'd hit April - it was over a year long! What an event!" She looks around, limbs filling with enthusiasm. "So! First off, I'm going to need a shower. But where will I find some good samaritans who will be open to helping out some random person?"

She turns, looking across the street, and her gaze falls on a building that takes up a whole city block, a building shaped like a cross between a grand hotel and an upside-down computer monitor, a building radiant with the spirit of heroism - the headquarters of the Legion of Net.Heroes, literally right there in front of her!

"Ah!" She grins, striding confidently forward through the revolving door! Within, an expansive, sunny foyer, studded with friendly succulents and the Spectacular Spider-Plant, and featuring a large, round desk in the middle, with an "INFORMATION" sign hanging above it!

And there, sitting behind said desk - a friendly-faced young Hispanic man! His hair, a faded pink with dark roots and a shaggy, uneven cut! His T-shirt, white, with doodles all over it in various colors of marker, continuing onto his skin as temporary tattoos in pen and ink! Two of the nails on his left hand are painted neon green, and three on the right are ebon black, all ten with gold sparklies on top! On his shirt, a handmade button that says "LEADER" in purple sharpie!

He looks down at his phone, brow furrowed in concentration! "C'mon, c'mon, daddy needs a Fanficuno..."

"Ah, excuse me?" says Tweseveny, stepping forward.

"Bvwmeep!" The young man slams! the phone on the desk, sitting up straight. "Hello, nice to meet you, my name is Time-Waster Lad, interim leader of the Legion of Net.Heroes, how can I assist with your emergency?"

"Er..." Tweseveny blinks in momentary startlement, and then a return to solid purpose! "I was wondering if I could take a shower here!"

"Oh!" Time-Waster Lad sags in relief. "Sure, definitely. We have some community showers in the Non-Peril Gym that Weight-Lifting Lady had built when she was leader. C'mon, I'll show you down!"

Time-Waster Lad guides Tweseveny through a door at the back of the foyer, leading to a long hallway. So long, indeed, that Tweseveny can barely see the other end - it seems a football field away, far far too far for the building she'd seen on the outside, and she thrills! The transcendent, ever-changing architecture of LNHQ! She gets to experience it, in person, as a person!

Today, the carpets are lush and thick, in bright colors speckled with triangular patterns, like a bowling alley. The walls are a cheerful sky blue, but in the distance, seem to shift towards a soft pink. Dozens of doors line the hallway, labeled as leading into various rooms; "Monitor Room", "Plot Device Room", "Peril Room", and many others. Dozens of other hallways intersect with it, often at strange and improbable angles. It is lit with warm LEDs, and occasionally, a geographically improbable window to let in the sunlight.

"There certainly don't seem to be many LNHers around today," says Tweseveny, admiring a framed portrait of Tsar Chasm in a Napoleonic pose.

"Ah, well, they're all out on missions," says Time-Waster Lad, twirling a lock of hair. "It's been a while, but remember that press release we put out back when April didn't end?"

"Oh," says Tweseveny, a slight blush of social mistakery coloring her cheeks, "actually, I'm a time traveler - I just landed today. But I'd heard about the Infinite April before."

"Oh, okay, neat," says Time-Waster Lad, as used as any veteran net.hero to temporal shenanigans. "Well, we've been having a lot of trouble keeping up on missions as our team keeps disappearing. We've got those robot duplicates Dr. Stomper made before he disappeared, but they're..." He bites his lip, clearly trying to come up with a diplomatic description! "They're not exactly 100% on the acting right. So we keep them for the small stuff. But most of the team is out doing one net.hero thing or another."

"Gotcha gotcha. It makes sense that the leader would hold down the fort!"

"...haha, yeah, it sure does..." Time-Waster Lad gives a little cough and walks thru an open doorway, into a locker room tiled in warm, bright colors, with birdsong piped in in the background.

"Super swanky!" comments Tweseveny, picking out a particularly bright shower with a rainbow mosaic, stepping in and closing the door behind her.

"Yeah, Sing-Along Lass said that even exercise can be cheerful and nice." Time-Waster Lad takes Tweseveny's clothes as she passes them over, and puts them into the super-speed washer-dryer Domestic Lad had installed when he was leader. "No use putting dirty clothes on a clean body, that's what he told us."

"Excellent advice! You certainly seem to be a good listener!" The warm water cascades over Tweseveny's tired muscles, and she feels her body relaxing, invigorating, mmm!

Time-Waster Lad smiles, leaning against the wall. "Thank you! But it seems like I only listen to the stuff that isn't important. If someone's giving me an order, it slips right out..." He stares off into space, humming musically for a couple minutes. "...oh!" He starts, straightening up. "Sorry, I started just... talkin' about myself!" He rubs the back of his head ruefully.

"Hah! That's all right," says Tweseveny, soaping herself off - gosh, you get sweaty fighting net.villains! "People say I'm a good listener too, and I gotta tell you, I don't mind lending a helpful ear."

"Aw, you're super sweet!" He runs his hands thru his hair, relaxing. "Still, I didn't ask - what's going on with you?"

She works shampoo into her hair, her scalp luxuriating in the stimulation. "I've been bopping around thru time a bit, and just kind of landed in this month."

"Oh man!" Time-Waster Lad shakes his head. "That's not surprising, it's so friggin' long! Like, I was supposed to go for my ADHD screening at the beginning of May, but..."

Tweseveny smiles, filling her voice with encouragement! "Well, I'm from the future, so I know it'll end eventually!"

"Sure," says Time-Waster Lad, with the tones of someone who is trying to be positive but has heard this all before. "But is it our future? Contraption Man said this never happened in his timeline, and Kid Kirby poked at a bunch of alternate timelines before he vanished and couldn't see an end to this."

Tweseveny hums in thought. She's actually read this story, so she knows how it will turn out, but-- actually, come to think, could this be some kind of Elsewhirl, an alternate-universe story? She hasn't considered the metafictional implications of her visit - and there's the lingering suspicion that, sometime soon, she will wake from this sweet dream of being powerful and fighting for good...

She shakes herself out. Dream or not, she's in the story now! "That's fair. So, as today's leader, how are you dealing with it?"

"Heh, well, everybody who can do work right now on the disappearing leaders problem already is, it seems like? So I'm just manning the des... ohhhhh biscuits I forgot I was running the desk! Frick frick frick..." Despite the cuteness of his euphemistic swearing, Time-Waster Lad is clearly freaking out!

"Oop!" Tweseveny turns off the water and does a quick pass with the towel! "Time-Waster Lad, before you continue freaking out, could you please pass me my clothes?"

"Frick frick frick sure..." Time-Waster Lad pulls open the dryer and tosses the clothes underhand to Tweseveny, then starts pulling on his hair. "Daaaaah..."

"Thank you!" Tweseveny gets dressed in a right hurry. She needs to get something more suited to a net.hero than beige skirts and sensible blouses, but there's no time for that now! Boldly, she steps out of the shower, takes Time-Waster Lad by the shoulders, and shakes him a bit! "Snap out of it, man!" Gosh, she's always wanted to say that!

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, I just, I just, I just--"

"Snap out of it more than that, please!" Tweseveny grabs a bucket, sets the shower to Breathtakingly Cold, fills the bucket, rears back, and--

"Okay no I think I snapped out of it now!!" Time-Waster Lad throws his hands up in front of his face.

"Oh, good." Tweseveny puts down the bucket and sweeps Time-Waster Lad into a hug! "It's okay! We shall go back to the desk together and Hang Out and Talk and Relax."

"mmberf" After Tweseveny lets go, Time-Waster Lad draws a deep breath into his body, spreads his hands, and lets the cloud of panic disperse. "Okay. Cool." He shakes out his head. "Thanks."

She takes his hand, and together, the two of them walk back down the corridors of the LNHQ. Tweseveny stays quiet, giving Time-Waster Lad time and space to breathe, to consider, in the sunlight of the nice day, in the warm breezes of the architecturally improbable windows.

As they pass the Plot Device Room, without preamble, Time-Waster Lad speaks. "I miss Miss Translation."

"Miss Translation..." Tweseveny pokes at her memories, of reading the older LNH series, scrolling through her news feed in delighted glee... "She was the alien who had a hard time speaking English, right?"

"Right. Once you learned her dialect, though, she was really easy to talk to. Together, we headed up a whole subgroup, one of the smaller teams within the LNH. She was the one who leapt forward and made things happen, and I was the one who took his time and made the plans and make sure things would work out." A great sigh heaves its way out of Time-Waster Lad's lungs. "And then... we lost a teammate. And the whole team got kicked out. Except for me." He runs his hands through his mop of pink hair. "Because, I guess, the Ultimate Ninja... didn't think I was one of them."

"Ohhh..." Tweseveny feels the weight in Time-Waster Lad's belly. The casual dismissal of the leadership he had been proud of... "I'm sorry."

"Yeah." The corridor ends, and the two of them are back in the foyer. "And then, just to kick everything in the pants?" Time-Waster Lad vaults the back of the reception desk and turns to face her. "They all got lost in space."

"Gosh," says Tweseveny, and means it, leaning her elbows on the desk, putting her face in her hands, and looking up at him. "That's painful."

"Right?" he says, and sighs, flopping into the rolly chair. "Starts-Arguments-For-No-Reason Kid and Sleeps-With-Anything-Alive Girl are back now. Not sure what the story is there... I think they might not remember it, but they definitely don't want to talk about it. When Limp-Asparagus Lad was leader, he sent out invitations for them to come back, along with a lot of other inactive former LNHers, and they did." Time-Waster Lad leans his head back and kicks his feet up, pressing them into the edge of the desktop. "But Ultimate Ninja might just kick them out again when he comes back. If he comes back." He blows a breath out loose lips. "And that was my last experience being a leader, sort of."

"Time-Waster Lad..." Tweseveny reaches for him... but her hand curls in a fist. She doesn't know what to say...

A throat is cleared on the other side of the room. "I'm sorry..."

Tweseveny and Time-Waster lad look up, roused from the depressing discussion! There, having just come in the door - two figures!

One, a tall woman in her early twenties, in a glittering silver dress, pale silver hair with a deep purple streak, an amethyst nose piercing, and high heels. She holds up an hourglass full of silvery sand and grins in manic confidence!

The other, a figure in a hooded robe, his face cast in constant shadow no matter how he moves! His body is hidden by the rich brown fabric, its texture sumptuous and expensive, yet continually exuding a noxious smell; starting off subtle, yet getting stronger by the moment!

"...but is this a bad... time?" the woman finishes, a maniacal glint in her eye!

"You're..." says Time-Waster Lad, eyes widening in recognition...

"That's right," says the hooded figure, working enthusiasm into his voice. "The devilish duo of trans-temporal terror!"

The woman raises her hourglass! "Mother Time and the Time Crapper!"

<<<*>>>

Author's Notes: Finally, Tweseveny returns!

There's a lot of reasons it took me almost two years to come back to this. A two-part storyline ended up ballooning to six parts, as I found more things I wanted to do with it, in terms of emotions, continuity, and cool shit. The continuity required a lot of research, and the emotions required a lot of heavy lifting. But it's done now, and I'm proud of it - I hope you will be too!

In re: Contraption Man: In the first Infinite Leadership Crisis issue, Contraption Man shows up yelling "No future!" and then goes into a coma, but he shows up perfectly okay later. I thought about commenting on that situation, but frankly, I'm going to be doing a lot of continuity-stitching in this storyline, so I'll save that for some other ILC insert.

"berf" as a sound effect of something mildly discomfiting happening is stolen from Questionable Content.

Time-Waster Lad created by Raythrax, Not Reserved.

The Time Crapper created by Jef Kolodziej, Free For Use.

Mother Time created by... shoot, it's not on the wiki. It's Arthur, right? In LNHCP #43? And I'm pretty sure she's Not Reserved and/or Free For Use??

#Original Fiction #Superheroes #Adventure #Silliness #Legion of Net.Heroes #Classic LNH #Burst Beetle Tweseveny

3 notes · View notes

aboysbestfriendishismum · 4 years

Text

Chapter 55 - Wine, puzzles and spoonmen (Part One)

In the previous chapter: Eddie and Angie woke up at her apartment. It's the third time in a row they sleep together but, although Eddie is constantly teasing her, they haven't had sex yet. Angie starts to get worried about this too and believes something's wrong. Eddie, Stone and Mike go to Roxy's on that same morning, right during Angie's shift at the diner. Eddie cheekily jokes, teases her, sends her subliminal love messages through juke box songs, then follows her in the back and kisses her; she thinks he's doing it on purpose so that their friends will find out about their relationship. The two of them have a brief argument but they soon make it up. Meg tells Angie about her new project: becoming a tattoo artist. She also understands Angie's worried about something and has her friend spill the beans. Angie confesses she has doubts about Eddie's physical attraction towards her. Meg tries to talk some sense into her and suggests her to set up a romantic night for Eddie and her at their apartment.

***

“Ian, can you come here a sec?” I call my coworker as I look through the sketchbook my roommate has just slipped on the counter top together with her purchases.

“What's up?” I hear him answer from afar.

“I need your help”

“Can't you do it by yourself? That guy who dropped the jarred Bolognese sauce made a mess!”

“Umph if that's Bolognese sauce, then I'm Julia Roberts!” I comment right when Hannigan comes back from the storage room, probably because of the commotion he heard.

“ANGIE?” he gives me a nasty look and I'd want to sink into the ground.

“Err I meant that it's a sauce produced in our beloved America! Healthy American food, tasty and nutritious... which gets inspiration from an Italian recipe to... to...” I try and make up for that as I address my audience, that is basically Meg, looking at me as if she could burst into laughing any minute, my boss and two perplexed customers, a young man and a fifty-something woman.

“To give a new interpretation of it?” the guy suggests from the snacks department.

“EXACTLY! A new interpretation. Different from the original”

“But as valid as the original” the boss adds.

“Very valid!” I say through my teeth.

“She's half Italian.” Meg explains to the customers “She'll be fucking fussing about everything but the sauce is good” the guy snickers and the lady shakes her head and walks towards the frozen foods.

“I'd have liked for you not to use the F word but you perfectly summed up my thinking” Hannigan's face relaxes and maybe I still have a job.

“Anyway it's all Ian's fault” I point out as soon as I see my colleague show up behind the back of the boss.

“What did I do?”

“I called you and you didn't came”

“Well, now I'm here, what's wrong?”

“Now Hannigan's here, I don't need you anymore”

“Can you please explain what the fuck's happening? I didn't understand a fucking thing!” the boss blurts out in the middle of our quarrel.

“I thought you couldn't say the F word here” Meg chimes in raising her hand as if she was at school.

“Not to custumers, but to employees... yes”

“Meg needs to buy some wine” I point at my roommate and the bottle she's placed on the counter.

“So what? Your shift ends at 13:00, you still have 10 minutes” Ian gives me a glazed look and right now I'd stick my thumbs into his eyes.

“It's not for the timing, it's that I can't sell alcohol...”

“Oh right! Well, you'll take care of that, right?” he asks to our boss.

“Yeah, sure Ian! I'll take care of that, I'm already here! By the way why should I have my paid personnel work when I can do everything by myself, right?”

“Uhm... ok, I'll go and put some more sawdust on that stain” Ian walks away and Meg can't resist this time and explodes laughing.

“Haha he's so dumb! Anyway isn't it funny that you cannot sell me wine, considering you're the one who'll drink it?” my friend remarks while Hannigan's ringing her items: red wine bottle, sliced bread, salmon, cheese, butter, various snacks.

“You're kind of dumb too, you know” I hide my face behind my palms.

“You could avoid telling me, at least...” mutters the boss and shakes his head.

“Who? Telling you what? I didn't say a word! Oops, I forgot the dessert, wait a minute!” Meg realizes the shit she just did and plays dumb, walking away towards the sweets section.

“She was just kidding anyway hehe” I say and I hope he doesn't notice I'm sweating.

“Of course”

“They're great!”

“Thank you Meg for grocery shopping for me and bringing all the bags up for four floors for me... that's what you just said, right?” my friend is putting everything into the fridge as I keep looking through her sketchbook.

“Exactly”

“Anyway you don't have to tell me you like them only to make me happy, I want a honest opinion”

“I am honest! I must say I like the ones in black and white better”

“Right? I'm not confident with colors yet. I mean, it's not like I can't draw stuff in colors. It's just, whenever I draw something and color it and I think it'd be supposed to end on someone's skin, everything seems shit to me. I did very few drawings in color”

“The flowers series is perfect, also the one with the animals” she's really good at drawing, I've always known that.

“They're just doodles to get started, to try some themes and styles”

“They're not doodles... what about this?” I focus on something drawn on a separated sheet of paper, folded and stuck in the middle of the book, which falls down to the floor as I turn the pages.

“Which one?” Meg distractedly turns around then closes the fridge door shut and runs up to me, snatching the paper from my hand as soon as she sees what it is “Oh this? This is nothing, this... I did it last night at the salon, during downtime, it sucks”

It's a page made entirely of pieces of a puzzle, they're all different in shape and shade but don't create any image. They're all blank and fill the whole sheet of paper except for a small space, a missing piece. Instead of the missing piece, in the layer underneath, you can see something that looks like live flesh and muscle tissue, and it's the only colored part of the drawing.

“It's simple but of immediate effect. This could really become a tattoo”

“Do you think so?”

“Yeah, it also seems very realistic. It's disturbing but in a positive sense, I like it!”

“Oh, well, thank you”

“What does it mean?”

“That I thank you for your compliment?”

“Haha no, what does the tattoo mean?”

“Ah”

“There's always a meaning behind, right? What would such a tattoo mean?”

“Well but... but this is not a tattoo is just an excercise, there's no reason behind”

“No?”

“No! Ok, now that you make me think about it, it could represent, I don't know, a missing piece in someone's life? I mean, everybody has their own void inside, right? Nobody feels 100% complete, there's always a piece of the puzzle we can't find or that we lost in the way. And it can be very different things: a person, a passion, a goal in life. What do you think?”

“I think it'd be the perfect matching tattoo for a couple”

“A couple? Hahaha I didn't know you were so romantic!”

“Not necessarily a romantic couple. Also between two big friends. Or brothers. Think about it, one person can have the incomplete puzzle tattoed and the other one can have the missing piece, which fits in it perfectly”

“That's an idea. It should represent a strong bond. Between brothers... or a parent and a child”

“Sure, also” the latter not necessarily being a strong bond...

“A mother... a mother could get this one, with one or more missing pieces depending on how many children she's got.And the children will be the missing pieces” and what if the missing parts are the parents instead?

“And they you'll inject ink in those chubby baby arms of theirs!”

“Hahahah shut up! They can have it done when they're grown up. OR... you can draw the missing pieces in the same tattoo, a little further” Meg takes the sketchbook from my hands and starts drawing as she speaks, taken from sudden inspiration.

“You can also put the name in it. Or initials”

“Which name?”

“Of the child. Inside the puzzle piece”

“Sure, if I knew the name”

“What do you mean? Haha how can a mother not know the name?”

Meg gives me a weird look, then smiles: “I meant, if only you could give me a name to have a try”

“Try with Angie” I smirk.

“A random one”

“Totally random”

“Don't even try, I'm not gonna get matching tattoos with you, forget it” she shakes her head as she starts sketching a cursive A inside the drawing.

“SHUT UP! I'm scared of getting my earlobes pierced, do you think I'd get a tattoo?! You're crazy”

“Oh, I see, you wanna get one with Eddie?”

“Come on, hurry up, we need to go shopping”

“Hahaha this enthusiasm from you surprises me, abstinence can be powerful”

“MEG!”

“Do you really think we can find a slutty nightgown in a thrift shop?” Meg doesn't watch her tone as we stop in front of Rummage Hall.

“Shhhhhh! I don't wanna buy a slutty nightgown, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“You don't want to? We went out exactly for that”

“You said I should wear something nice but not too much. I don't wanna go too far or Eddie will understand...”

“Excuse me, isn't that the purpose of the whole thing? Make him understand?”

“Yes but...”

“Well, slutty it is, then!” Meg enters the shop and I tag along.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhh”

“Anyway we're not gonna find shit in here” my friend takes long strides towards the clothing section.

“Where did you want to go? Nancy Meyer? I've got no money for that stuff”

“No, but Fantasy Unlimited is a short walk away”

“BUT THAT- ehm... that is an adult shop” I raise my voice too without noticing, then shush myself up.

“And you're an adult, aren't you? Anyway they've got very cute things, I bought a lot of stuff there, that for the record I use also to go to clubs. Well, now only to go to clubs” she shrugs as she's examining a satin-like robe and then puts it back.

“You just need two triangles of fabric to be dressed and look nice, Meg, but for me it's slightly different”

“You just need triangles a little bigger, what's the problem?”

“The problem is there are no triangles big enough for me”

“Shut up!”

“And I don't know if Eddie would like that, I mean, I don't know his preferences” maybe he doesn't like this kind of seduction artifices, maybe he prefers a simpler style, a more natural approach. Why the fuck am I not naturally hot?

“He's a guy and he's heterosexual, what would his preferences ever be? The more skin he sees, the happier he is” it's Meg's very easy answer.

“My skin?”

“Yes, why?”

“There's too much skin in my case, maybe I'd better hide it” who am I kidding? You don't just put something cute on and turn into an attractive girl. You must be able to carry it around and feel confident in those clothes. I don't even feel comfortable now that I have a coat on. I'm never comfortable, except sometimes, with Eddie. Why ruin everything? I'll just show up like this, with a coat on. Or my fleece robe, I mean, he's used at my shitty outfits, this would be nothing new.

“Angie, what the fuck are you talking about?? He wants to see your skin because he likes you, I thought that had been already established by now”

“He likes me, altogether”

“No, fuck altogether, fuck mind, personality and all the other bullshit”

“Bullshit?”

“Angie, he likes your body, you turn him on, he wants you”

“He wants me so much than I gotta dress slutty to have him notice me?”

“The point is not having him notice you, that's what you got totally wrong. He already noticed you, you're with him basically! The point is letting him know you're ready for the next step. And stimulate him a little, warming up the atmosphere”

“If you say so” warming up, uh?

“Fuck, Angie, you're gonna give me a nervous breakdown sooner or later!” Meg pinches the bridge of her nose and I'm afraid she's really about to explode.

“Don't yell! There's people here” I complain looking around in embarrassment and hoping no one is listening to our conversation.

“Listen, when you're together... don't you ever notice anything in him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Whenever you kiss or hug... I mean, when you make out and stuff”

“Well, he looks... invested, focused on me and always gives me those looks that-”

“Ok ok, the look of love. But apart from that? Nothing else? Can't you feel anything?”

“What am I supposed to feel?”

“You know, since you also sleep together... and stuff”

“Stuff and stuff... Couldn't you be more clear?”

“Have you ever felt... something knocking?”

“Knocking?”

“Hasn't mini-Eddie ever popped up to say hi?”

“Mini... MEG WHAT THE FUCK??”

“Does he get hard? You must have noticed”

“DID YOU LOSE YOUR FUCKING MIND?!”

“Shhh stop yelling, there's people here” Meg chuckles and I'd kick her ass.

“You're to lock up” I grab her from the sleeve of her jacket and try to drag her out of the shop with me but she pushes me towards the books section.

“Jeez, you're such a prude”

“I'm not a prude, I'm just... discreet”

“Ok so have you ever discreetly checked if he gets a boner or not when he's with you?”

“Apart from the fact that it doesn't mean anything”

“Sure, now Eddie gets random boners with no reason, after all he's in his full pubescent phase”

“You're joking but it's true. Erections are not necessarily linked to sexual arousal only. Do you know men can get erections at the point of death too under certain circumstances?”

“Oh really? And how many times did Eddie die recently?” she smirks.

“Anyway, that said... it's none of your business” I turn the other way trying to look upset and as I look towards the clothing section, where we were until five minutes ago, I spot something I hadn't noticed before.

“I already know anyway!” Meg yells behind my back as I walk away towards the object of my interest, then she catches up with me “Come on, don't be mad. I'm sorry. I just wanted to prove my point! And tease you a little”

“What do you think about this?” I turn around showing the item I've just taken from the line.

“I think that... well, considering it's Eddie, we would never find something better to stimulate him, not ever at Fantasy Unlimited. Buy it!”

******************************************************************************************************************************************

I'm halfway between the first and the second floor when I realize I took the stairs instead of the elevator. I stop for a second, contemplating how stupid I am and trying to remember the moment I put autopilot on. I probably lost some lucidity once I parked outside Angie's condo. Was the doorway open? I think so, 'cause I don't remember buzzing and I'd remember if I had heard her voice, even through that shitty croaky buzzer. It looks like spending more time together hasn't changed the effect that the idea of seeing her has on me. I hope it'll never change. I shake my head and start walking up the stairs, two steps at a time, to arrive sooner. I didn't exactly run but when I get to the fourth floor I feel flushed. I take a deep breath, pull up my backpack and walk down the hallway to Angie's apartment. The first weird thing I notice is a sound: the sound of a saxophone, which becomes louder and louder as I get closer. The second weird thing shows up as soon as I turn down the corner and see something's wrong in Angie's door. As I come closer I realize the hallway lamp casts a narrow beam of light on the floor inside the apartment and from that I notice that the door is half-closed. As far as I know Angie double locks herself up even in her bathroom when she's home alone, she'd never let the apartment door open. I walk up slowly and in the meantime I open my backpack and stick my hand in it to find something I could use as a weapon. I don't really wanna waste some good wine crashing the bottle on the head of an elusive burglar. But I also doubt the videotape of Harold and Maude would have the same effect. I grab the bottle from the neck as I push the door open and cautiously enter the apartment. And I immediately notice two things. First of all I see there's something on the floor and at first they seem parts of a colorful object that broke into pieces. But as I lean down to see better, I take some of these fragments in my hand and figure out it's nothing but flowers, abandoned on the floor. I grope my way looking for water or glass pieces of a fallen and then shattered vase but I can't find anything. Now that I think about it, there was no vase of flowers here, at least not until this morning. Almost at the same time, I realize it's not really flowers but only petals and they seem to form a path towards the living room. In that moment I figure out I can follow the path of the blue and red petals on the floor with my eyes because the entrance is not lit only by the external hallway light but also by some burning candles placed on the phone table and on the shoe cabinet.

Oh.

I quickly stand up, feeling stupid for mistaking a romantic setting for a crime scene. I finally close the door behind me and follow the way led by the flowers, walking towards the living room and imagining the different scenes I could find, which have all the same main character. But she's the one missing when I get in the room, all that I find is more candles, the small table laden with delicious food and further away, between the two couches, a basket with a composition of blue and red flowers, just like the petals on the floor. Your love is king sings Sade in the background, that is not exactly background, since the volume is pretty loud. And I'm just standing here, wine still in my hand, waiting for Angie to magically show up, maybe with a little ambush behind my back, covering my eyes with her hands or in any other way she came up with. But that doesn't happen. Suddenly I think I hear a sound, more sounds, actually an almost regular sequence of sounds. I go and turn down the music a little and the series of dull thuds sounds clearer. Maybe a romantic setting doesn't exclude a crime scene... what the fuck is happening?

“Angie?” I call her and get no answer.

The noise comes from the kitchen and that's where I go, quickly but with caution. At first I slowly open the door to peep in, then I fling it open when I see Angie at the window, leaning outside, basically perched on the windowsill.

“Angie!” I call her again but she can't hear me. So I put the wine bottle on the table and reach out for her, shaking her by her shoulder “Angie what th-”

“AAH! Oh shit, Y'ALL WATCH OUT DOWN THERE!” Angie jumps and starts yelling outside the window, then I can hear a sharp noise, like something shattered into pieces and that's when I look out too to see what's happening.

What's happening is that there a small group of people on the pavement just outside the condo, standing in a sort of circle around a red expanding stain, while a guy curses and gives the middle finger in our direction.

“Angie... what did you do? What does it mean?” I ask as we both stuck our heads back inside the apartment.

“I've just lost a bottle of red wine and a boot” Angie sighs and replies as if it's the most normal thing, finally turning to face me.

And I finally focus for a moment and see what's in front of me: Angie, dressed in just a black The Who t-shirt that leaves her legs almost entirely uncovered, eye liner or whatever it is on her eyes, with those little wings on the sides pointing upwards that make her look more like a kitty, a glossy lipstick on her lips, vanilla scent. Maybe the burglar hit and killed me and this is heaven.

“Well, I can make up for the wine because I brought some too...” I walk backwards towards the table without taking my eyes off her, pointing at the place where I must have put the bottle “and I can go out and get back your shoe in no time. So, you see? Everything has a solution hehe, don't worry” why the fuck am I laughing? Do I think I'm funny? And why am I sweating?

“I'm sorry you have to go, you've just arrived” she replies with an irresistible pout, moving away from the window and breaking eye contact looking down.

“No problem, I'll be back in a minute.” I'm about to leave the kitchen, then I come back in “Oh wait, I can't”

“Oh ok... why? I mean, it doesn't matter Eddie, don't... don't worry” she starts stuttering and I smirk inside, trying to look cool.

“I forgot I have to do something first”

“What?” she asks puzzled before I get close and take her face between my hands to kiss her.

“This. I'll be right back, ok?” I whisper right after.

“Ok” she smiles and I kiss her again.

“And just so you know, when I'm back I got a bunch of questions about all this to ask you”

“Ok” her smiles widens and I kiss her once more.

“I'm telling you in advance so I won't catch you unprepared”

“Ok...” she repeats and I'm about to kiss her once again but she holds me back with her hands against my chest “Now go though”

“Uh is that so?” I try and get my kiss but she pushes me harder away.

“Hurry up”

“I'm going, I'm going. So bossy...” I let go of her and leave the kitchen, only to show up on the doorway a second later, only for a moment “I like it”

It takes me a while to find the boots, I mean, the boot, Angie's brown one, cause it rolled down the sidewalk under a parked car. When I find it, I instinctively look up, as if I'm expecting to see her still there, at the window, with her colorful hair fluttering in the night breeze. But she's not there and I immediately go back inside. And during the whole way, this time using the elevator, I try and figure out the connection between wine and boot and the dynamics that brought them both out of the window. I walk up to the apartment and Sade is still singing.

“Thank you, Eddie. Do you want some?” I turn around the corner in the hallway and Angie's on the doorway with a bowl of chips in her hands and she holds it out to me as I get closer.

I want you I'd tell her but I just give her the boot and take the bowl and bury my hand in it.

“Anytime” I watch her quickly walking away into her room, quickly walking on her naked legs... GET IT TOGETHER MAN, YOU'RE SWEATING.

“Why are you standing there like that? Come in” Angie comes back and I'm still here at the door eating chips.

“I was waiting for you” I shrug and follow the flower path and her steps once again into the living room.

“So?” she asks when we're in front of the couch and I put the bowl of chips down on the small wooden table, since I believe we're about to sit down. Yet she keeps standing and smiles at me, with the tip of her canine popping up and diggin into her lower lip for a second as usual.

“So?” I repeat getting closer till my face is inches from hers, but without hugging her or kissing her, as if there's a game, a challenge between us, a challenge I'll surely fail.

“The bunch of questions... “ she looks down and, tugging the hem of her t-shirt down, she quickly takes a seat and I'm sure she's blushing even though she's not looking at me.

“Ok... Sade?” I point at the record player and sit down beside her, as I take off my jacket and throw it on the other couch.

“Hahaha of all this mess, the strangest thing to you is Sade's record?”

“No. But it's the first thing I thought of now”

“Don't you like it? It's... it's a good album” she turns towards me and subtly closes the distance between us on the couch at the same time.

“She's very good, it's just I didn't think you liked her. Can I ask the second question?”

“Sure”

“What the hell were you doing at the window with a bottle and a boot?” Angie's grin widens again.

“I was trying to open the wine bottle” she shrugs as if this is the most obvious explanation.

“By kicking it?”

“Hahaha more or less. My dad taught me”

“I sense a memorable anecdote is coming, I'm all ears”

Angie tells me about that time when she went on a camping trip with her parents to Lake Payette, her father's idea to celebrate his and his wife's birthdays, that I guess must be very close. On night one Ray pulled out a bottle of wine he had brought for the occasion but realized he forgot the corkscrew. He pounced on the cork with a knife but it seemed he couldn't open the bottle. Janis wanted to postpone the toast to the following evening, after going to the nearby shop and buying the bottle opener. There was no way to convince Ray though. So Angie's dad, as nothing happened, took off his boot in front of them, stuck the fuckin' bottle in it and, without saying a word, walked clumsily on a single boot up to the closest ponderosa pine and started slamming the bottle, protected by his shoe, against the trunk.

“You know, the pressure inside the bottle pushes the cork out, until you can grab it and take it off with your hands. My mom and I were doubled over in laughter” as she tells the story, Angie crosses her legs and moves on the couch and this makes her shirt go up little by little. I notice that and feel kind of an asshole.

“But it worked”

“And that was the first time I tasted wine: I was 11. It was good, although it had been shaken for 15 minutes”

“This means you got no corkscrew here at home?”

“Yeah... I mean, actually we had one, but I can't find it anymore. I guess someone took it at my birthday party or Matt or Chris borrowed it and haven't returned it yet. Sure it didn't seem wise to go there and ask them now, you know...” yes, I know, you didn't ask them because they'd have asked questions you don't wanna answer, at least by now.

“And you decided to use the Pacifico technique”

“And since I don't have any tree here, the only way to do it was beating the bottle against the wall. But I didn't want to risk getting the kitchen dirty so...”

“Hehe so you figured you'd do it out of the window?” I adore this woman.

“Yep. And it was working fine, until a certain someone scared me and made me drop everything. And I made a mess” she gives me a playful nasty look and scoots away from me.

“You're right, it's all my fault.” I scoot over on the couch to sit back close to her “But I know how to make you forgive me” ok, more than close basically glued to her.

“How?” she looks up at me amused, basically batting her eyelids against mine.

“Opening the other bottle” I stand up out of the blue and I leave her there, maybe a little disappointed? I go into the kitchen, take the bottle and open the window.

“With the Pacifico technique?” she asks as she shows up at the kitchen door.

“Nuh, with the Vedder one” I peer outside, remove the wrapper, pull out my lighter and start heating the end of the bottle neck with the flame.

“Isn't this dangerous?” I feel one arm circling my hip and for a minute there the red wine bottle was about to end the same way as Angie's one.

“No, I did it so many times” I answer as I rotate the bottle.

“Hey, it's coming out!” Angie exclaims behind my back while the cork starts moving.

At that point I tilt the bottle slightly as to prevent the cork from exploding like a bullet inside the apartment or into somebody else's window. Finally the corks pops out and falls into the street, where it looks like he doesn't hit anyone. Wine is safe too.

“See! Hot air expands inside the bottle and pushes the cork.” I close the window and triumphantly show the uncorked bottle to Angie, who arches her eyebrow at me “What? I can do science too, you know”

“So you also know you could have caused an explosion and get hurt?” she rolls her eyes and by the way is still hugging me.

“Not if you know how to do it and and to be careful. So, am I forgiven?” I ask, raising the bottle at her as if it was a toast.

“Sure!” she chuckles and looks at me in silence for a while. And I'm expecting a kiss but instead, she lets go of me and exits the kitchen, but not before addressing me again “Let's go taste you boiled wine”

The wine is not boiled at all and it's not bad. Angie and I are at the second round and, as I'm stuffing my face with chips and sandwiches, I realize it's getting hot in here. I mean, I can't be this heated for two glasses of wine. And neither for the half nakedness of Angie. Even though... And this is the moment I figure out my usually chilly girlfriend is dressed only in a t-shirt and I can't hear her teeth chatter for the cold, so there must be something going on here.

“My bunch of questions aren't over anyway...” I say and Angie makes herself comfortable on the couch, half laid and leaning on the armrest.

“Shoot”

“It's fucking hot in here, isn't it?” I ask as I take off my flannel and she starts laughing uncomfortably and, as she tries to sit up, her feet get closer, touch my legs and push against me a little to leverage. But I don't move an inch.

“Hahaha yeah, you're right... as you can see, tonight's really the perfect night: just one disaster after another”

“Why? What happened?” I throw the shirt there were my jacket is.

“I don't know, it must... the heating system must be broken, and that's not unusual. The new thing is... this time, I don't know... they kind of broke the other way round and it's been heating non stop at full power since this afternoon”

“Do you want me to check your radiators?”

“No point trying, it's not just here, the whole building is burning basically”

“Do you want me to go down and check the boiler room?”

“NO!” Angie basically kicks me, then regains her composure “Err no, no worries. And then, I mean, the apartment manager is the one who's supposes to take care of this stuff and call technicians, that's what he's paid for! He'll do the work”

“Ok”

“And what if you can't solve the problem and maybe no one can and they blame you because you put your hand in there...”

“Alright”

“And by the way, at least it's not freezing, for a change”

“Well, yeah, still better than freezing but...”

“I know. Shitty building. Anyway, now you know the... ehm, you know why I'm dressed like... this” Angie goes on and pulls down her t-shirt again to cover her thighs.

“I wouldn't call it a disaster then” I smirk and rub the back of my hand softly against her leg, from her ankle to her knee. She stares at me in the eyes and for a moment I'm sure she's about to throw herself over me and kiss me, but I'm wrong again.

“So? Which movie do we watch first? Mine or yours?” she asks out of the blue.

“You decide” actually I even forgot about the movies, the heat, the wine, about where we are and maybe what year we are as well.

“No, come on, you tell me” my hand is still going up and down.

“It's the same for me, Angie”

“Same for me too”

“You're the host, you choose”

“You're my guest, so it's up to you” of course, as always: it's up to me.

“Uhm... alright! Let's watch yours first then”

“Ok! The tape is there under the tv, would you put it on? I'll get some water” in a fraction of a second Angie sneaks away into the kitchen and I find myself alone. I turn off the stereo then crawl in front of the tv to get the Goodfellas tape and as I do I think about one thing. Well, actually two. One worse than the other. The first thing is that I'd rather have gone to get the water instead of Angie, so I could come back here and see her on hands and knees as she fumbles with the videorecorder, and that it'd have made for a very nice view. My second thought is that the tv looked much better in Angie's room and it'd have been much more enjoyable to watch it with her from her bed.

Disgusting thoughts indeed.

“Did you find it?” Angie's question startles me as if I was caught red handed doing something illicit.

“Yep” I press Play, stand up and try to get back on the couch before her. I do and sit right in the middle of it. So she won't be able to sit far from me. I gloat for my smar idea.

“If you want to be more comfortable, just lay down. I'm gonna sit there. Hehe we have one couch each if we want to” is Angie even aware of her endless power? The power to leave me totally speechless with such statements?

“Actually... I don't want to”

“Are you sure?” well, I don't know... WHAT DO YOU THINK?

“Very sure, I don't want a whole couch for me, I wanna share it with you” I hold my arms out and grab her by her waist, pulling her gently towards me until I finally take her back on this couch. And I hold her and kiss her and touch her, pushing her delicately towards the armrest on her side. And at some point I feel her hand moving right under my body. I think I know what she's about to do and I feel euphoric all of a sudden. But Angie is able to surprise me again, because even if I don't see her doing it, I can clearly feel her gesture of grasping at the hem of her t-shirt and pulling it down for the umpteenth time. I internally laugh at my stupid X-rated delusions, although on the other hand I'm sorry Angie doesn't feel comfortable with me yet. I don't wanna hurry, really, I'd just like to know what the problem is. I give her one last peck on her lips and back away so we can both sit up properly.

“Ok. Let's fastforward all the commercials and advisories. Where's the remote? Oh there it is!” Angie, the one who was about to abandon me all by myself on this couch, the one who was coy and bashful during my approach like two minutes ago, it's the same girl that basically climbs on me to jump over on the opposite side and stretch out to take the remote on the other armrest. And then does the same thing backwards to get back to her place. And I'm not complaining at all.

We're almost at the end of my movie and this is the situation: we finished the wine I don't even remember when, as for food only a few snacks and two small chocolate cakes are left; I'm in my t-shirt and boxers because it's really hot, although we opened the window in the living room; Angie's smoking a cigarette, resting on the couch with her legs over mine and I've been genty stroking them for literal HOURS, something that contributes in heating the atmosphere even more. And I also feel kind of guilty, because Harold has just rushed to the hospital with Maude and I already know what's about to happen and the ending breaks my heart every time... and I'm here, basking in the softness and smoothness of Angie's skin under my fingers.

“It's so sad. But also beautiful at the same time” she remarks during the credits.

“Yeah. You really haven't seen it before?”

“Never. And now I see why you like it”

“Hehe right, Cat Stevens has something to do with it” I reply since I think she's referring to the soundtrack.

“Uhm yeah but that's not what I meant. What I wanted to say is that... well, this movie is like you” she takes one long last hit of smoke, then puts out her cigarette in the ashtray she placed on the floor. And she's amazing. Not because she's smoking but... I know it's not nice to say, and it's also unhealthy, a bad bad habit, but... there are times, particular times in which, maybe fuelled by excessive domestic heating and subsequent nudity, I see something extremely sexy in a woman who's smoking.

“Absurd?”

“Absurd, eccentric, thoughtful, bitter and sweet...” Angie slowly counts the adjectives on her fingertips and I can't say she didn't get them right. This means she knows there's something bitter, and dark inside me. Maybe that's why she doesn't trust me completely yet.

“Eccentric uh?” a devilish grin appears on my face.

“Oh well...”

“Said the girl who tried to open a bottle with a shoe outside the window”

“Ok this is gonna be another of those recurring jokes you're gonna use to take the piss out of me for the rest of my life, isn't it?”

“Yes... after all, I can't make fun of you for your nights out with Meg to pick up guys anymore, I have to find a substitute”

“Really? And why?” she adjust herself better on the couch to sit up and for a minute I'm afraid I'll lose touch with her legs, but she still keeps them over mine.

“Because you're not having those anymore” I hold her by the hips as she puts her hands on my shoulders.

“Are you sure?”

“You don't need to”

“So can I hang up my infallible pick up techniques now?”

“Sure, now that you picked me up”

“How I made it is still unknown...”

“With your infallible pick up techniques, of course”

“That are? Not doing absolutely anything?” as if she needed to do something to have me fall for her. I lay down on the couch and pull her with me.

“Being yourself and not doing absolutely anything, the best way”

“If you say so...” she mutters and she tries to sit back up but I hold her tight and prevent her from sneaking away. At this point, also not to slip and fall off the couch, she has to more or less straddle me.

“It worked with me, can't you see that?” I grab her as she tries to wriggle free, I hold her tighter and slip my hand under her t-shirt, to caress her back.

“Eddie! Come on, let me sit up...”

“Why?”

“Because I'm hurting you...”

“Shut up!”

“It's true and you know it”

“You can't crush me, I can feel you got all the weight on your knees and arms”

“Because I wanna spare you asphyxiation?”

“Cut.The.Crap.” I decide I'm gonna do this the hard way and my hand sneaks across her back towards her armpit so I can tickle her, but she gives up long before I get there. Mental note: Angie is very ticklish “Oh, that's better!”

“Hahaha stop it!”

“Much better” I repeat when we find ourselves basically nose to nose and then I stop torturing her, close my eyes and breathe in silence with her for five minutes, I think, waiting for something... that never comes. Angie removes her hands from my hair, where she had casually buried them in the heat of the moment. Then she holds on to the pillows, pulls herself up and backs away from me.

“I'll turn off the tv” Angie stretches out her hand to get the remote from the table where I put, then sits back down at my feet. I take a deep breath and sit up too.

“I'd better go” I'm about to stand up but Angie, with a quick move, grabs me by the arm and pulls me back down on the couch.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

“Home, so I'll let you sleep” I pinch her cheek and try to stand up again but Angie doesn't let me.

“But I don't wanna sleep! Well, I mean... you can sleep with me, you know, you can crash at my place”

“Even tonight?”

“Yes, why? Don't you want to?” Angie's torturing the hemline of her t-shirt again and if she tugs at it some more, it'll become a tunic.

“Sure I want to. I thought that it may be a problem”

“A problem about what?”

“I don't know, because of Meg?”

“Meg won't be here, she's sleeping over at her friend's”

“But she'll be back tomorrow morning, right? What if she sees me again? What will she think?” I'm saying it for her, not for me. If she sees me and does the math, I'll be nothing but happy.

“What will she think? Nothing. Anyway, I already told her”

“You told her?” I ask, suddenly interested and full of hope. Did she really tell someone we're a couple?

“Yeah, I told her you'd come over tonight. And that maybe you'd sleep here” hope destroyed in ten seconds. Maybe.

“And what did she say?”

“She said ok” Angie shrugs and takes the last two cakes left from the table, biting on one and handing me the other one.

“Ok? Only ok?” I take a bite too.

“Sure, what were you expecting?”

“Nothing. But... I think Meg knows then”

“Sure she knows, I've just told you! Why all these problems all of a sudden?”

“No, I mean she knows... about us...” a second bite and no more cake.

“NO! I... I didn't tell her anything”

“Angie... it's the 4th time we sleep together in a week, I don't think you need to tell her. If she's not stupid, she'll understand by herself.

“She knows we sleep together but she doesn't know... what... ehm... what we do” Angie eats the rest of her chocholate cake and pours herself half a glass of water to swallow it better.

“She can assume it, I guess” seriously, Meg's assumptions surely go well beyond what actually happens between Angie and I in reality.

“Meg has no trouble to say what she thinks: if she had suspects, she'd have openly told me”

“You should do it”

“What?”

“Openly tell her, about us”

“WHAT? WHY?” why the hell is she so scared?

“'Cause she's a friend to you and you have to start somewhere, don't you?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Listen, we already talked about it, do you wanna keep it secret? Ok, I'm in. But you could take things gradually, with no big collective announcements, just by telling it to one single person. And why not your best friend?”

“I don't know, maybe because she's totally incapable of keeping a secret?” Angie looks at me as if I was stupid and rolls her eyes.

“Well, that's so much better, isn't it. We only need to tell Meg, then she'll get the word out for us” I try and hug her and she slaps my chest in response.

“Fuck you, Eddie”

“Let's go to bed?”

“Mmm... ok”

19 notes · View notes

queenmorgawse · 5 years

Text

transmigration for dummies

chapter three. mdzs scum villain au. read on ao3 + end notes. credit to @lee-luca, esp as another bit of the comic is mentioned here. previous | first | next

One hour, thirty minutes and two hundred rules into his punishment, Jingyi is as bored as he’s ever been in this life. To top it all off, the System isn’t responding to any of his pleas for company, only responding with oops ): something went wrong when he tries to ping it. Back home, this is about when he would have given up on homework and started scrolling through his Twitter feed instead, but there’s not much he can do without his phone.

Ugh, he’d kill for one of these crappy McDonalds games. Even a Kinder toy would make him happy right now. Instead, he doodles on his torn-up first drafts, on which the ink made blots from his clumsy first attempts to imitate the original text’s elegant calligraphy.

He silently adds bic pens to the ever-increasing list of modern appliances he misses.

When badly-drawn stickmen get boring as well, he starts to think about the original Lan Jingyi in his life. Maybe that’s how it works, after all. Mom sure would love someone who’d actually go to bed early when she tells him to. On the other hand, once he got over the initial shock of modern Jingyi’s life, he’d probably find it pretty dull. High school isn’t about to compare to flying swords and cultivation, that’s for sure.

Opposite him, Sizhui is bent over his own stack of scrolls, poring over rows and rows of tiny characters and absent-mindedly running his fingers along the lines. From the way he hums to himself when he thinks Jingyi is too busy copying to care, he guesses they’re music sheets of some kind. Unlike Jingyi, he looks like he’s actually engrossed in what he’s doing.

Too bad. Jingyi’s reached that point of boredom at which he needs to talk to someone or else he’ll implode. ( Still, he promises himself he’ll stop if Sizhui shows even a hint of genuine annoyance. )

“Hey, Lan Sizhui ⎯ can I call you just Sizhui? Um, sorry I got you stuck here.”

To his relief, the other doesn’t look irritated, just surprised. “Sizhui is fine,” he ventures after a few seconds. A smile breaks out on his face. “That’s good. I was afraid you were still mad me, you’ve been so awkward all day...”

Wait, what? Who’s angry at you? Someone who kicks kittens for fun, probably.

Oh right, me. Maybe he’s the one whose brain needs a reboot. How does he explain that it’s not him who’s mad? Hell, he doesn’t even know what the original is supposed to be mad about. For some reason, it feels weird to ask, just because it seems important enough that admitting he forgot would be insulting.

“Anyway,” Sizhui continues after coughing into his sleeve, “it’s alright, you don’t have to apologize to me. I’ve got to go over these before tomorrow’s lesson anyway, I might as well do it here.”

“Inquiry?” Jingyi ventures, maybe-maybe-not because it’s the only title he clearly remembers from the ones canon mentioned.

“Oh, no. Asking very specific questions is still a bit out of my reach, but Fa...Hanguang-jun wrote down a list of phrases for me, so we’re going to try them tomorrow.” His face softens at the mention of Lan Wangji. If this was a fic, this would be when Jingyi keels over and presses his face into a pillow for a little while.

The chat devolves into musical cultivation. Jingyi muddles his way through it the best he can, feeling like he’s bullshitting an essay out loud, but Sizhui doesn’t seem to find his vague answers all that off-putting. He still pointedly glances down at the stack of unfinished notes on the table from time to time, but since Jingyi’s calligraphy has been getting worse and worse the less attention he pays to it, maybe it’s for the better.

When dinner time rolls around, they eat their bowls sitting on the steps leading up to the Library Pavilion, after Sizhui rightfully points out Lan Qiren would have their skins if they spilled even a drop of sauce on the sect’s precious texts. Gradually, Jingyi feels himself relax.

“So, are we chill?” he asks between two mouthfuls of rice.

Sizhui just stares at him.

Right. No slang. “...I mean, we’re doing good, right? We’re friends?”

Something complicated passes over Sizhui’s expression. It’s too fleeting for him to catch more than a glimpse of it, especially as it’s overridden by his usual calm smile before Jingyi can shove another rice ball into his mouth, but he could swear the other winced.

Well, ouch. It must show on his face, because Sizhui suddenly looks alarmed and adds : “Yes, yes, we are!” Another smile. This time, Jingyi can definitely see the strain. “We’re friends. You don’t have to doubt that.”

“Oh. Great!” Jingyi resists the urge to reach out and gently punch his shoulder. Who knows how it’d be perceived. “We’re gonna spend a lot of time together, if I’ve got to keep copying rules, so...I wanted to make sure.”

【OOC behavior detected : contradiction of backstory despite hints : -20 points. Current balance : 65 points. 】

Shut up! I want him to like me!

“We’re friends,” Sizhui repeats one last time, like he’s trying to convince himself. Then he reaches for Jingyi’s shoulder and gives his robes a tug. “We should get back in there. Two more hours before curfew, you can still get a few lines in. I won’t distract you.”

“Ugh.”

Jingyi makes a face. Sizhui laughs, and the tension from earlier dissolves. “Come on. The more you get done, the faster it’ll be over.”

It turns out they’re both severely underestimating the number of rules Jingyi can break without realizing, and therefore the amount of time they’ll be spending here.

Despite these setbacks, over the course of the next handful of weeks, Jingyi adapts to his new life the best he can. He finds out, with much relief, that even though he can’t access the original’s knowledge and memories, training since childhood pays off even after a body swap. He doesn’t have to think too hard about sparring, just keep a firm grip on his sword, and his muscles can apparently do the rest with minimal effort on his part.

It only works with the actual fighting, though. After going to bed feeling sore all over for a week straight, Jingyi gives up and gives the cold springs a shot. It freezes his limbs off, but the ache gets better after that. It even gets him about a dozen points, which he adds to the rest, gained through menial tasks across the Cloud Recesses and some well-timed mischief.

He also likes to think he gets some progress done with step one of his grand plan to survive this novel. There’s no undoing years of being a pain in everyone’s ass in a matter of weeks, but Jingyi still gives it his best shot - peppered with tasteful cursing at the System when it deducts points for actually following the rules or, you know, not being a dick to everyone he talks to. As a result, he goes from mostly being avoided by the other disciples to tolerated, even if no one but Sizhui goes out of their way to talk to him or invite him to join in on...whatever fun they have.

Jingyi doubts he’s missing out on much, at least where the Lans are concerned. But rumor has it some of the guest disciples snuck out into Caiyi to try some of the local wine, and he’s jealous of that, which is kind of irrational. He doesn’t even like the taste of wine that much, and besides, that may be too much of an infraction for a raised Lan, however prone to rule-breaking said Lan is supposed to be.

( He really can’t afford to slip up again. When he dared chop a solid forty centimeters off his hair after struggling to run a comb through it for the fifth time that week, the System’s alarm blared so loud he almost had an out of body experience. He’d felt the hundred points shaved off his score, though, even if he’d managed to negotiate half of them back. That was the spiritual equivalent of having a car zoom past right as you were about to cross the street, and Jingyi’s in no hurry to do it again...but with that said, it feels great not to have to deal with a bird’s nest every time he wakes up. )

Of course, he can’t just get comfortable with his new daily routine. Something has to happen. This time, said something takes the shape of a summon from Teacher Lan. Jingyi drags his feet over from the Library Pavilion and away from his sixth copy of Gusu Lan rules. His wrist is still complaining every time he bends it a little too far. Fuck corpse powder, it’s carpal tunnel that’s going to do him in.

Speaking of copies, maybe he shouldn’t slump this much. He’s fairly sure there’s a rule for that somewhere in the two thousand and nineties.

Given the circumstances, Jingyi fully expects another lecture from Lan Qiren the moment he sets foot in the communal hall, but quickly readjusts his expectations when he spots the small crowd of disciples gathered around their teacher. Most of them are familiar faces by now, except for the girls, who for some reason live in a completely different part of the Cloud Recesses. Still, he recognizes Lan Fan, the shimei who looks like she could bite your head off but actually gave him some pretty helpful tips on sword stances the other day, Tao Ming, the boy who’d seemed vaguely suspicious of him that first day, and of course, Sizhui in the forefront.

Lan Qiren narrows his eyes at him as he hastily joins the rest of the group. “Late again, Lan Jingyi.”

“Sorry, Teacher. This disciple was busy copying rules when he heard.”

A few of his companions snort, the noise quickly disguised as a sudden and collective bout of coughing. Jingyi can’t blame them ; if he’d heard the same words everyday for weeks on end, he’d be laughing too. Lan Qiren gives a long-suffering sigh, but whatever he’s about to tell them must take precedence, because Jingyi gets away with what might otherwise have been considered cheek.

“Madam Mo of Mo Village has sent us a request for assistance.” Given their teacher’s expression, he might as well said that she’d beaten down their door in the middle of the night and let a donkey loose in the courtyard. “From the servants’ description, it shouldn’t be anything more than a few walking corpses. Nothing a group of juniors cannot handle.”

Yeah, right. Despite knowing he’s supposed to let canon run its course, Jingyi still feels a twinge of apprehension. Why, you ask? He can answer that in two points.

Things Jingyi knows : mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.

Things Jingyi doesn’t know : how to kill zombies with swords.

In theory, he did spend the last few weeks training, and he didn’t slack off either, thank you very much. Doesn’t mean he’s ever gone up against a corpse before. He’s a coward, okay? Horror movie night was hell, back in his own world. He’s in no hurry to experience it in real (?) life.

“Lan Sizhui will lead the group,” Lan Qiren continues. “I expect all of you to keep your behaviors appropriate and not bring shame onto our sect.” To no one’s surprise, Jingyi thinks, and throws the interested party a small smile. To his surprise, Sizhui blushes and looks down at his boots, looking both embarrassed and pleased. It’s an unfairly cute look on him, but again, most of his looks are.

Right on cue, the System wheezes to life like it just crawled out of a computer from the nineties.【Beginning stage checkpoint mission assigned. Destination : Mo Village. Mission : ensure the protagonist, Wei Wuxian, makes it to Mount Dafan to meet love interest Lan Wangji. Please click to accept.】

Jingyi mentally slams the Accept button.

Ding! 【Mission successfully accepted. Please read the file carefully for mission details and make appropriate preparations. We wish you success. 】

OOC function, here he comes!

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #lan jingyi #zhuiyi #transmigrator!ljy #kim's fics

92 notes · View notes

homenum-revelio-hq · 5 years

Photo

Welcome (again) to the Order of the Phoenix, Bee!

You have been accepted for the role of ISLA SELWYN-MACMILLAN, with the requested faceclaim change to Adelaide Kane! We particularly enjoyed the discussion of Isla’s reasoning to join the Order, as well as the conflict with people not trusting her because of who she is. We think she’ll be an excellent addition to the cast!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Bee

AGE: 21

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I’m a college student, so my activity tends to revolve around my schedule, though I tend to be online at some point every day (unless there’s a big paper to write or a project or a test or something the next day, in which case maybe not… but still probably because I am a disaster). If I had to give it a number? 7.5, 8.

ANYTHING ELSE: OOPS HI LOVELY ADMINS

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Isla Evelyn Selwyn-MacMillan

AGE: 25

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis Female, She/Her, Sexuality was a weird thing for Isla- she was never entirely certain as to how to define it, or what made sense to her. Yeah, sure, guys were good, she guessed. Girls were nice too. Either or, both, sure.. But it was never really important. At least, not the sex part- not to her. She could take it or leave it. Sometimes it was nice, but most of the time she could live without. What she couldn’t live without was some sort of emotional connection. She needed someone to care about, and who cared about her- that was always what mattered most to her. In terms of labeling, she’s probably demisexual and gray ace.

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

ANY CHANGES: I’m 100% okay with Ernie being Archie and Isla’s kid. I actually kind of love how complicated it makes their little, odd family’s life. As for faceclaims,would it be okay if I used Adelaide Kane? If not, Melisa Pamuk is perfect <3

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Isla falls into a sort of gray area when it comes to personality. She is a messy conglomeration of the things that she needed to be for her family as well as the things she wanted to be for herself- therefore, it really depends on which Isla you know. She can be vibrant and exuberant, a free spirit who loves to run wild, who loves to do things that make her happy. She can be wildly fierce, especially when it comes to taking care of people and standing up for what she believes in. She can be a whirlwind of passion and fire. She’s warmhearted, treating friends more like family and strangers like friends.

But there’s also the uncertainty of who she’s supposed to be. The feeling of being lost in who she wants to be and who she’s had to become in order to hold on to the people she cares about, to protect the people she cares about, to protect herself. It’s like living a masquerade every day of her life. Pretending and lying, giving up the things that she was so passionate about, it’s deteriorated her spirit a little bit. But the Order has given her a little bit of that fire back. She has a cause to fight- she fights for the person she once was, the person she’s lost. She fights against the stupid, archaic world that the Death Eaters and Voldemort are creating. It helps her hold onto the scraps of herself that she knew. It’s like looking into a crystal ball and seeing who you were, but not seeing any path as to who you’re supposed to be now that the chips are down and you’ve found yourself in your current situation.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

Isla has never really known where she fit in with her family. There’s a family portrait that hangs in her family home’s parlor that was done when she was about four. Her mother and father looked like the regal couple they’d always been, standing behind their four children, elegantly dressed, her mother dazzling with the diamond necklace that twinkled upon her neck, her father with a stern sort of half smile underneath his mustache. Her older sister, Maeve, sat on a fainting couch with herself and their little brother, Grant, just in front of them. All three of them in pristine, mint condition. Long, dark curls on Isla and Maeve, half tied up in white bows. Little Grant in a suit, his hair slicked back with what had to be gallons of Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion. Every single detail of the five of them was perfect, to a t. She was sure that somewhere, in the back of her parent’s minds, that’s how they’d hoped their children would stay. Perfect little angels who knew their place, who had cherubic smiles on their faces and soft giggles. As an adult, Isla would find herself staring at the middle child, squirming ever so slightly in her little white dress, her eyes glinting with just a hint of mischief, and want to tell her to run away and never look back.

But then, really, would Isla be Isla?

Isla was a ball of energy that was almost impossible to tame. Of course, she knew when not to overstep her parent’s wishes, but oh Merlin, was it fun to toe just a hair over the line. As a little girl, she wasn’t given much opportunity. She would run wild around the nursery, declaring herself a dragon on any given Tuesday, or the Quidditch World Champion for a weekend. She jumped off beds, had notebooks full of doodles, sang at the top of her lungs- she was absolutely her own person. Willful, too. From about the age of three, there was no getting Isla to do anything that Isla didn’t want to do. She would sit, stubborn as an ox, in the same spot for hours on end. It drove her mother and father absolutely mad- but her aunt had always laughed and remarked that as long as there were Selwyns, there would be willful, headstrong witches in the world.

Hogwarts was the time for freedom that Isla really needed. It was freedom, at least to a point, to explore and experience and learn what she liked, to do what she wanted. Of course, she was never encouraged to do certain things. It was almost an unspoken thing- of course her parents wanted her socializing with students from pureblood families, of course they wanted her in the Frog Choir, of course they wanted her in the Slug Club- these were things that they could brag about to their friends, things that would make their daughter sound like the creme of the crop. It was easy with Isla’s older sister- Maeve had always been the golden girl. But Isla liked to subvert expectations and do what she wanted to do. She loved flying. Soaring above the world in the red and gold of the Gryffindor House Team, a very unladylike beater’s bat in one hand, she felt freer than free. Like she never wanted to touch the ground again. She loved Care of Magical Creatures, her gentler side emerging from the usual ferocity of her spirit. She could speak to the creatures for hours. She’d watch flobberworms, and somehow, not get bored. She hid a niffler in the Gryffindor Girl’s Dormitory for a month because it had hurt itself and she wanted to heal him up (his name was Gregory, and yes, she got found out by McGonagall… Gregory got taken away, and in a rare sighting, Isla cried for hours). She’d make friends with anyone and everyone from any house, even though there were certain friends that she had to tiptoe around, lest naive Grant slip up and tell their parents. Hell, she even snogged a few guys, a few girls, a few neither, and a few both. She had a relationship or two, though nothing romantic ever really lasted. All of this was okay because it fell within the realm of education. It wasn’t the real world- not yet. Her parents didn’t care what she did, so long as she brought no irredeemable shame to them.

Soon after graduation, her mother first used the most dreaded word in all of English: marriage. And thus began Isla’s great attempt to avoid ever talking about getting married. She quickly found a quidditch team that would sign her on, and thankfully her parents indulged her ‘whim’. For five years after Hogwarts, five glorious, beautiful, amazing years, she flew professionally. Isla knew it wasn’t exactly what her parents wanted- she knew the remarks regarding their younger daughter’s occupation that ran in their little circle of pureblood friends. But Isla didn’t care. Until she had to care. Until her parents told her she couldn’t fly anymore, even though she was so close to landing a spot in the big leagues. No. That word came back to haunt her. Marriage. Isla had to get married to some nice pureblooded boy that they approved of- preferably another old name- and have little pureblood babies. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t in love with anyone, it didn’t matter that she didn’t want to get married- it was marry or be cut off. This was the only place that her parent’s held the power, where the line was drawn in flames rather than chalk. They threatened her with stories of Andromeda Tonks, who ran off with a muggleborn and had a kid, who was cut off from the family, burned off the family tree, shunned from all of society. And while Isla didn’t care about the rest of society, she did care about being cut off from her family.

Enter Archie.

Archibald Macmillan, one of Isla’s closest friends in the world, was in a similar conundrum: his parents were demanding a marriage to a nice pureblooded young lady- the catch in his particular situation was that young ladies weren’t exactly his type. Thus, the world’s most perfect plan was hatched: Archibald Macmillan would marry Isla Selwyn. They would be married for the sake of marrying- to placate their parents and the demands for traditional pureblood values and a path for an eventual heir- but have the freedom to be themselves within their own relationship. Freedom within the constraints their families had placed upon them. Thankfully, Archie hadn’t fussed when she asked… or really demanded… she keep her surname as well as take his. She was Isla Selwyn after all. Now she was just a Macmillan too.

It wasn’t until after the wedding that Isla found out why her parents had been so demanding and had threatened to cut her clean off if she hadn’t married. The reason was referred to as You-Know-Who and other darling pseudonyms. He wanted a pureblood society, full of traditional pureblood values. If you defied him and his followers, you often ended up dead. It had been her family’s way of protecting her without really explaining why. That knowledge made her blood boil. She had been so angry with her family, but so afraid that they would cut her off just like Andromeda Tonks had been burned off the Black Family Tree that she caved. But it was this… this slimy, foul, miserable wretch of a wizard who wanted a perfect world for himself to rule over. What You-Know-Who didn’t know was that he had made an enemy on her wedding day, whilst she was saying her ‘I do’s to a man she loved but wasn’t in love with, while her family sat, painted smiles on their face. He had made her choose to clip her wings. And for that, he would pay.

OCCUPATION:

Once upon a time, Isla was going to fly for the rest of her life. She was going to live on her broomstick and make it big one day. Maybe she’d even fly for the Holyhead Harpies. She’d already planned it all out. Unfortunately, Voldemort and, because of their fear of their daughter being hurt or worse, her parents, had more traditional plans for her. So Isla Selwyn MacFusty is a wife. It isn’t an occupation she wanted by any stretch of the imagination- but at least it’s a marriage to Archie, and not one of the arrogant ministry goons her mum would have picked out for her. She supposes that the Order is more of an occupation in the traditional sense- it doesn’t pay (but she doesn’t need money, what with the Selwyn and Macmillan money floating around), but it gives her something to do. She’s also taken on a new occupation- one that she wasn’t certain that she’d ever wanted. Being the mother of Ernie Macmillan was the best job she’s ever had. She’d do anything for her little boy, anything in the world.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDERS:

Isla’s fairly certain that most of the Order does not like her because of her last name… or last names. Sometimes it makes her feel like she’s sticking out like a sore thumb- the pureblood girl with the perfect pureblood life, what’s she doing fighting with the underdogs? Isla wishes that there were some way for her to reassure the Order that she’d do just about anything to help, because she doesn’t agree with anything that Voldemort says… the slimey old git. The past is the past, and it should stay there. Archaic and old, let it mold away. Fighting this fight lets her at least try to banish the past way of thinking. Plus, she believes that every good secret organization needs a few good men (or women) who have insight and connections to the enemy. Fortunately, Isla believes herself to be the exact girl for the job, She’s high enough up in pureblood society that people don’t suspect her. While most people in high society know of Isla’s fiery disposition, they believe her to be ‘tamed’ by married life, settling in as a graceful and elegant lady of the house. She can work her family’s circles to pick up intel and feed it back to the Order. Hopefully good information helps turn the tides on the war.

SURVIVAL:

Once upon a time, Isla thought she was invincible. Nothing bad would happen to her- the Death Eaters, while winning, were too dumb in her mind to think that one of the Selwyn girls was working against them. She was certain that they’d think no sweet, demure, little housewife and mother would ever be involved with an organization actively trying to take down Voldemort. Especially not with a surname like Selwyn Macmillan. But the events of October 31st 1981 have rattled the optimistic perspective of Isla. People got hurt. Really hurt. Before the Masquerade, she was fighting by sneaking around, bringing in information that could only be provided by someone in upper crust pureblood society. But the evening of the masquerade was the first time that she could actually die. Be it getting caught in the crossfire trying to save someone, or being caught working for the Order, or simply being in the wrong spot at the wrong time. And if she died, that left Archie and Ernie alone- the two people she’d do anything in the world for. If she got caught, or if she died, that put both of them at risk. Or worse, she got caught, and something happened to them- she’s not so sure if she could handle even thinking about something like that happening.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Archie Macmillan: She loves her husband to the moon and back- just not as one would normally love their husband. Marrying Archie was a no-brainer once the ultimatums began to be thrown around by her parents. He’d always been a close friend, he was someone her parents undoubtedly approved of, and he needed a safe marriage where he could be himself without sneaking around. She thinks the world of him, and she would do anything for him. Of course, the Order has put a bit of a strain on things, but she appreciates him being right by her side. It makes her feel less alone in things.

Andromeda Tonks: Isla can never decide whether or not to be jealous of Andromeda. She was free to live the life that she wanted with whom she wanted, but at the cost of losing her family. Isla is certain that she maintains a large amount of respect for the woman. She might have been the horror story her parents plagued her with, being left without a family or a home, but at least Andromeda didn’t give in to her parents. There’s a piece of Isla that eats at her every day for not fighting for just one more second of her freedom.

James Potter: Isla really cannot stand James Potter, and it’s not even his fault… or it is… it isn’t but it is. James has never had to worry about losing his family for dating who he wanted, for marrying or not marrying- he’s completely free. And even worse, he’s pitied for being in a relationship simply because Lily is a muggleborn. As if Lily Evans wasn’t smarter than ten purebloods combined… at least, in her humble opinion. All of these thoughts have given Isla a sort of prickly disposition whenever she’s around James. She doesn’t hate him, but she doesn’t like what he gets away with all because he’s James Potter and because he’s a bloke.

Emma Vanity: Emma Vanity is like looking into a mirror. A slightly more innocent, naive, little lamb of a mirror, but a mirror. She’s from a pureblood family, one that had wanted her to get married to a nice pureblood boy. And god, the girl almost did get married, and Isla still isn’t sure that that’s what the girl had wanted. She was freed from her betrothal by the untimely death of Mulciber, but Isla knows that that sort of freedom only lasts so long, especially nowadays. Hopefully, with a little bit of her help, Isla can get Emma to truly decide what she wants, and then help the girl with whatever comes next. Merlin knows Isla wishes that she had had someone who would have done that for her.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: Isla x chemistry. A warning that she will never do anything that would put Archie or her son at risk, any extramarital relationships will likely be secretive.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Isla has led the glamorous life- she hasn’t had to worry about much of anything, ever. She never had to worry about being bullied or tormented about where she came from, let alone any other reason. Up until her time at Hogwarts, she hadn’t really met a muggleborn, let alone really understand what the muggle world was like- it wasn’t like she didn’t know that muggleborns existed, but they weren’t in the social circles that her parents ran in. So when she got to Hogwarts, she was a little bit too eager to find out things like how they got around or how they got rid of the boggarts in the attic or how they ever got their mail. There were times she was surprised how good at magic a muggleborn friend was, and as she got older, she’d kick herself for ever thinking like that. Having magic, she learned, didn’t mean you had to be good at it. For example, she was awful at transfiguration, whereas other students- muggleborn, halfblood, and pureblood alike- succeeded and even thrived at the art of changing one thing into another.

The only thing in the world she has working against her is Voldemort’s need for his rather archaic pureblood society and it’s ‘traditional’ values. Traditional in the sense that it was her job to be a delicate flower doing household magic and being demure and lovely as opposed to zooming through the air on a broomstick and feeling free. That freedom to be who she wanted to be has given her the tiniest sliver of a glimpse into a world she knows she could never dare to imagine. Ernie, she’s decided, will be raised to respect every wixen of every background. Her son will be better. She won’t let him be another pureblood thinking that he is the center of the universe, and all should bow before him.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? I have never loved a group more, I swear to god. I am here for all the angst and in depth character writing.

PLOT DROP IDEAS: LITERALLY ANYTHING. Y’all have come up with better plot drops than I could ever imagine. But I’d love something that lets Isla really do some recon and bring back whatever information she can to the Order.

ANYTHING ELSE? AAAAAAAAAAH I LOVE YOU ALL

#hp roleplay #hp rp #hp rpg #harry potter rp #harry potter roleplay #homenumaccepted

5 notes · View notes

alj4890 · 5 years

Text

Love Prompt

(Matt x Addison) with the prompt: unexpected pregnancy requested by @krsnlove

(Matt Rodriguez x Addison Sinclaire)

Masterlist

Tagging my two known Matt x Addison shippers 😉 @krsnlove @hopelessromantic1352

Guess What: Part 1

"What do you think?" Addison asked.

Thomas flipped through her fashion designs for his upcoming movie, Secrets in the Dark. He frowned at some of the dresses for the female lead. "These aren't quite what I pictured the character, Christine, wearing during undercover missions."

Addison sniffed and her eyes filled with tears. "I...I worked really hard on those!" She grabbed a box of tissues off his desk and started to cry. "I did exactly what you asked and you sit there, behind your desk, acting all high and mighty. Well Mr. Know It All, MAKE THESE YOURSELF!" She knocked the portfolio on the floor.

She took off crying and ran to the bathroom.

Holly and Amanda came rushing in. Thomas was stunned by Addison's outburst.

"Thomas, what did you say to her?" Amanda asked.

"Were you arguing?" Holly peeked out the door and could still hear her crying.

"I didn't say anything other than these dress designs weren't what I had pictured!" He stood up and led them to the bathroom.

Addison's whimpers and sniffles could be heard through the door.

Amanda pulled Thomas and Holly back. "Has she possibly had a fight with Matt?" She whispered.

Holly shook her head. "They both can't stop talking about how happy they are together. Ryan told me last night that Matt asked him how soon he thought he could propose."

Amanda's smile and muted squeal caused Thomas to look up for divine intervention. She noticed and playfully shoved him. "Don't be the type of husband where romance has died simply because you married me."

"I did not mean..." His frown grew fierce at her teasing. He pulled her close to his side and kissed her forehead. "I will deal with you later." He growled. "If Matt has not upset her and I didn't say anything I haven't before, what else could upset her?"

Holly took her glasses off and placed the tip in her mouth. Her eyes narrowed in thought. "Maybe her family. She was talking about being pressured to visit the other day."

"You might have been the straw that broke the camel's back." Amanda told Thomas. "If her family has been driving her crazy, she might have a lot of pent up frustration."

Addison opened the door sheepishly. "Sorry Professor. I don't know what came over me."

Thomas reassured her it was fine. She started tearing up again. "I am so sorry. Youre being so nice and I was...a...jerk." She started crying harder.

Holly hugged her and tried to get her to calm down. Amanda urged her to come into the kitchen. Thomas reluctantly followed when Amanda caught him trying to escape. He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the counter as Amanda tried to offer her something to eat or drink.

Addison reached for the snicker doodles. Between tears and soon laughter, Thomas noticed she ate nearly a dozen cookies. His eyebrows raised in astonishment. Amanda's cookies were good but he never knew Addison to eat that many.

She drank the iced tea handed to her and reached for three more cookies. "I don't know what is going on with me lately. I have been crying over everything. Maybe I have PMS. Oops. Sorry Thomas."

His serious expression didn't change. "I have worked with you ladies for years and lived with that one for over a year. Nothing phases me about female hormones."

Amanda tried not to laugh. "Since he is so comfortable discussing this. When are you supposed to start?"

Addison pulled up a calendar and frowned. "I'm late."

Three pairs of eyes stared at her. "How late?" Holly asked.

"Um...two and a half months, I think."

"Two and a half months!" Thomas exclaimed. "How could you not notice that?"

"Well everything has been a whirlwind since Matt and I got together. I've never really been consistent, cycle wise, and I just didn't think about it." Addison said in a rush to defend herself.

Amanda reached over and took her hand. "I understand. Perhaps though, you might want to take a pregnancy test."

Holly volunteered to go get one. Addison said she would go with her. "I need to clear my head." Amanda and Thomas watched them go.

"She's pregnant."

Amanda looked up at him in surprise. "You noticed it too?"

Thomas picked up the cookie jar and held it upside down. Only crumbs fell. "A little hard not to."

Amanda chewed on her bottom lip. "How do you think Matt will react to the news?"

Thomas slipped his arms around her. "Don't worry. Matt cares deeply about Addison. He isn't likely to do anything to hurt her."

_____________________

Addison left her doctor's appointment and stared down at the ultrasound in her hand. She was nearly three months along. "No wonder I've only been able to fit in yoga pants and loose dresses recently." She mumbled.

She sat down on a bench outside the doctor's office and tried to get the nerve up to tell Matt. As she held her cell phone, it lit up. She groaned when she saw who it was.

"Hey Abbey." She tried to sound happy to hear from her sister.

"What's wrong?" Abigail asked.

"Wow, I can't even say hi to my big sister without being called out." Addison said in irritation.

"Sorry! I miss you. I was going to see if you had decided to come for a visit."

Addison realized that Matt wasn't the only one she had to tell. "Yeah, I um might be able to come for a few days. I am currently working on the costumes for another film, so I won't have a lot of free time when we start filming."

Her sister laughed excitedly. "I can't wait to see you. It has been too long between visits. I'll call Adam and let him know. Mom and Dad will be so happy. Oh! You ought to bring Matt so we can all meet him."

Addison covered her face. She couldn't imagine how her older brother and father would react to Matt getting her pregnant on what appeared to be their first night out after admitting they were in love with each other. "I will see if he can come. I need to get back to work. I will call later with a weekend I can come visit."

Once the call was over, she called Matt. Her leg began to shake up and down as she waited on him to answer.

"How did you know I needed to hear your voice?" Matt said when he answered.

Addison smiled at his sweetness. "It's a gift." She took a deep breath. "Listen, um I--"

"Would you like to have dinner together tonight? I've missed not seeing you these past couple of days." Matt interrupted.

"I would love that and had planned on asking you. You beat me to it!" She replied. "I missed you, but I knew I would never finish the designs if I had you all to myself. She teased.

Matt smiled and looked down at the floor, embarressed at how easily her words affected him. "Where would you like to go or would you prefer eating at my place?"

Addison knew she would never be able to tell him she was pregnant out in public. "I would like to eat at your home, if that is okay."

"I would too. As much as I enjoy showing you off, I would like a night of no chance for interruptions." They decided on a time and he told her he loved her.

"I love you too." She brushed the stray tears and looked up to try and stop them. Once she was done with that, she sent a group text to Holly, Amanda, and Thomas. "It's true. Need a lot of 🍪 please OMW."

She laughed at their responses of excitment, promises that everything would be fine, and that cookies were being taken out of the oven as they typed. "I can do this." She said softly.

________________________

Matt kissed her as soon as he opened his door and saw her. She smiled and hugged him. "Did you miss me?"

He kissed her again. "Too much." He stood back to let her in. "I have been trying my hand at cooking. So far, the house has not burned down."

Addison laughed and followed him into the kitchen. She looked around and noticed nothing on the stove or in the oven. "I know I am not the best cook, but don't you need to use those appliances to whip up dinner?"

He chuckled and stepped outside. "Not when you use a grill." He opened the lid and her mouth watered at the smell of kabobs cooking.

"Oh I love you." She moaned.

"I'm going to pretend that was directed to me and not the food you were looking at." He couldn't hardly contain his happiness when she quickly reassured that it was meant for him.

She curled up in a patio chair and watched him turn the kabobs and then check the ears of corn he had in another section. She wondered if she should tell him now or wait until he saw her eat everything he prepared and then whatever she could find in his house for dessert.

Matt noticed her somber expression. He walked over to her and cupped her chin. "Addison? Is something wrong?"

She lowered her eyes and handed him the ultrasound. Matt took it and wondered why she had this. He then saw her name written at the top. He quickly sat down. "This is yours!"

She nodded, tears coming into her eyes. She was very worried his shock would switch to anger or disgust.

Matt began to smile. "This is our baby! Addison! I...this is amazing! When is the next appointment? Can I come with you? What do you need? I..." He swept her into his arms and kissed her.

She held on to him and cried against his shoulder. "I was so scared to tell you."

He sat down with her in his lap and soothed her. "Addison, you know I would never have been anything but happy over this. You knew the one thing I always wanted was a family. Since you are the only one I want that with, this news could not be better."

She laughed softly while pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Matt, you don't have to say things like that."

"Like what?" He kissed her softly.

"Like me being the only one you want to have a family with." She snuggled against him.

He lifted his head and frowned. "Addison, I'm serious. You know I am in love with you and--" He stood up and made her sit down. He quickly took the food off the grill. "Wait here."

Addison watched him jog into the house. She placed a hand over her stomach. "That's your father. He is terribly sweet. I hope you get that from him."

Matt came back out and knelt down in front of her. "I planned on doing this tonight because I couldn't wait."

Addison's blue eyes dropped down to the diamond ring in his hand. "Matt!"

The adoration on his face made her tears start up again. He gently caressed her cheek. "Ryan told me it was too soon, but I couldn't wait. I've loved you for a couple of years now. I already thought you were amazing, but you showed me how perfect you really are when you remained by my side after the accident. So many were ready to give up on me, but you never did. Hope and joy seem to follow you everywhere you go. And now..." He placed his hand over her stomach. "You carry it for me. I never thought the world could possibly be any better simply because you are in it. Now, I see how lucky we are to have another you soon coming to it. My hope is that our baby has your heart. That's all I ask. That and if you will marry me."

Addison nodded and kissed him. She let out a tearful laugh and hugged him. "I love you so much. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to say no to the baby being like me."

Matt's brow drew together in confusion. She looked up into his eyes. "I already wished he or she would be like you."

He shook his head at her sweetness. "So what would you like to do now?"

"Eat dinner." She automatically answered.

He made her a plate and poured a glass of iced tea for her. Matt sat down beside her. "I meant what do you want to do for a wedding. When, where, all those details."

Addison dropped her kabob. "Oh! I forgot. Is there any chance you could go with me to visit my family?"

Matt nodded. "Of course. Sun Valley, right?"

"Yes." Worry clouded her bright blue eyes. "Matt, I'm not sure how they will take the news of our unexpected pregnancy."

He slipped his hand into hers. "It'll be fine. I will be right there with you."

#choices red carpet diaries #matt x addison #matt rodriguez #addison sinclaire #thomas hunt x amanda #thomas hunt rcd #thomas hunt x oc #choices thomas hunt

15 notes · View notes