“The massive ink monster was also still; there were no more smaller ones to smash. The Thing turned it’s crooked horns and huge grin around slowly; from behind echoed a jazzy tune that bounced uncannily off the walls.”
An AU inspired by @shinyzango Written and Illustrated by myself. Now we’re getting somewhere!
April 11, 2017 - Polynesian Ground-dove (Gallicolumba erythroptera)
These Critically Endangered ground-doves were once found throughout the Society Islands and the Tuamotu Archipelago in French Polynesia, but are now seen only in small areas of the Tuamotu Archipelago. Though little is known about the biology of these birds, they are thought to eat seeds, buds, fruit, and leaves, as well as caterpillars and other insects. Their breeding habits are virtually unknown, but chicks have been recorded in January and April and a nest was found in a Pandanus tree. Introduced species, including cats and rats, along with severe storms and habitat loss, led to their decline and extinction on some islands within their former range. Their current population is estimated at under 200 birds.
Overview: Sam helps the reader work on her cardio… “helps.”
Characters: SamxReader, Dean being snarky on the side
Word Count: 1,526
Warnings: mild language, tomatoes, running (always a warning), fluffy fluff
A/N: This was written for @pinknerdpanda‘s Birthday Celebration Challenge. The happiest of birthdays to you, my lovely sunflower! My prompt was: I think running is wrong, unless professionally or as a child. I picked this prompt because it resonates within the depths of my soul. Hope you like how all the crazy turned out, Manda ;) (And, as always, special thanks to my letter checkers @wheresthekillswitch & @hannahindie. I would be lost without them.)
“Dean, I’m telling you, a tomato is a fruit.”
Dean scoffed, “Please. A tomato goes in salad. Salad is rabbit food. Rabbit food is vegetables. It’s a logic circle, Y/N.” He spun his finger in the air to emphasize his geometric statement.
I pushed my mug back and leaned forward on my elbows, “So if it goes in salad, it’s a vegetable? Hands down. No exceptions.”
Dean nodded and took a bite of his scrambled eggs.
“Then explain strawberries in salad. Or, better yet, fruit salad.”
He paused mid chew, took a moment to let my statement sink in, then pointed his fork at me, “Momentary transformation.”
“So now we have a food identity crisis on our hands?”
“Y/N, I’m telling you-”
“Hey guys.” Sam briskly walked into the kitchen, his entrance stopping Dean from continuing to defend his non-existent correlation.
The day, with all its pain ahead, is yours. The ceaseless creasing of the morning sea, the fluttering gamboge cedar leaves allegro, the rods of the yawning branches trolling the breeze, the rusted meadows, the wind-whitened grass, the coos of the stone-colored ground doves on the road, the echo of benediction on a house – its rooms of pain, its verandah of remorse when joy lanced through its open-hearted doors like a hummingbird out to the garden and pool in which the sky has fallen. These are all yours, and pain has made them brighter as absence does after a death, as the light heals the grass.
“Freeze! FBI!” Aaron pointed his weapon at the unsub, who currently had his own gun pointed at your head.
“Goodbye, Agent Y/L/N.” The man whispered before shoving you over the edge of the cliff, barreling towards the crashing waves below.
Aaron watched as you fell out of sight. He heard your name called out, but he was unaware that it came from his mouth. He didn’t think. His body took over and he ripped out his ear piece and threw that, along with his phone, on the ground. He dove off the cliff after you, unconcerned with his well-being. All that mattered to him was you.
The water was freezing and shocked his system. He found you quickly, but the fall had knocked you unconscious. He grabbed ahold of you, your skin already turning a hideous blue color. He swam as fast as he could, begging you to hold on.
He reached the shore, clothes clinging to his body. He set you down and began compressions on your chest. 1 - 2 - 3, then he parted your lips and pushed air in as his lips met yours. He returned to pushing on you chest when water began leaking out of your mouth. He turned you on your side and patted your back as you caught your breath. As you finished, he laid you back down.
“That was a hell of a first kiss.” Your voice was hoarse.
“It’s memorable, that’s for sure.” He chuckled and sat down to relax.
He sat next to you, waiting for the EMTs, and watched as your chest rose and fell deeply.
for the killjoys prompt thing, how about the fab 4's first times firing a ray gun??
He shifted the gun from one hand to the other, eyeing the makeshift target several yards away.
He looked down, almost nervously, at the weapon in his hands. He’d known that he would have to use it eventually, once he left. He had to be prepared. There was no going back. This was something you threw your whole self into. This was real. This was his life.
He brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead, closed one eye, and straightened his arm out.
He was a killjoy now. He had to start acting like it.
It had been an accident.
The exterminator had taken a step forward and he had just been so, so angry, so sick of doing what they told him and watching them stalk around in their horrible white masks, and his whole body was shaking and he’d just pulled the trigger, he hadn’t even been thinking, his finger just twitched and a pulse of light had shot out and there had been such a hush afterwards, a silence so thick and heavy it felt like it was pressing down all around his skull, and he’d dropped the gun and just started running, even though he knew he couldn’t hide, they had cameras, they’d seen his face, they were going to find him.
It had been an accident.
His throat was burning, his chest felt like it was about to collapse, but he forced himself to keep running. His sneakers slammed against the pavement and tears stung in his eyes, and he clutched his younger brother’s wrist like a lifeline, dragging him along behind.
They were fast behind him but he knew this city, he knew these alleyways, and like hell he was going to let anything happen to his brother.
Then the two took a turn and found themselves facing a dead end, the wall staring down at them like a fortress. The older kid spun around but he could hear their boots pounding, too close. No–
The instant the first one rounded the corner, a bottle slammed down from above, shattering against the white mask. The exterminator toppled immediately, gun skidding across the ground, and the older dove for it, scooping it up and clutching it in trembling hands.
“Go!” he shouted, twisting his head over his shoulder. The younger made it to the top of the wall but refused to drop to the other side.
“Not without you!”
The second exxie slid around the corner to come face to face with a shaking, black-haired teenager, pointing a blaster straight at her. The kid’s eyes were almost hidden by his hair but they looked harsh and wild, and the exterminator almost took a step back before noticing her partner crumpled on the ground.
The kid squeezed the trigger, and a bolt of lightning flickered out of the barrel of the gun and hit the exxie square in the chest. She fell backwards immediately, body thudding to the ground with a grim finality, but the black-haired kid didn’t have time to reflect on it, he was too busy hauling himself over the wall, sneakers slipping on the bricks and his brother fisting his hands in his shirt, trying to pull him over.
They both overbalanced and toppled over the wall, hitting the ground painfully but immediately springing up to keep running. They couldn’t stop. They couldn’t stop now.
It wasn’t until later that the older noticed he still had the blaster gripped tight in his hands.
He took aim. Carefully. Precisely. The goggles he was wearing slid minutely down his nose, and he relaxed his stance briefly, taking a hand off the gun to push them back up.
He focused his gaze, narrowing his eyes slightly and cementing himself more solidly into his stance, adjusting his legs, his elbows, his spine, all to line up correctly.
Relax. There’s no kickback. It’s a wonderful little machine. A perfect tool. Just like yourself.
He pulled the trigger, blinking as the shot went off, despite himself. He would have to work on that.
When he opened his eyes again, there was a burn hole, directly in the center of the silhouette’s forehead.
Your headcanons for Ayato are just too cute! Can I request a fluffy scenario where his s/o takes care of him when he's sick?
i have such strong feelings for this boy, let’s go lol
Ayato Kirishima was known for a lot of things. He could defend his life and stand his ground against the Doves, so much so, that he had a special alias and his own rating which he happened to be very proud of. He was a lot of things and being a complete baby whilst sick was one of them.
“I’m going to kill this virus,” Ayato said gravely, “if this virus could manifest itself into human form I would kill it and then, if it came back from the dead for seconds I would kill it again.”
His partner laughed. Ayato didn’t. He looked very serious and frankly, a little funny. His fringe was pulled up into a small ponytail, two tissues stuck up his nose like plugs and the tip of his nose was the color of a tomato. For a moment Ayato didn’t speak, he simply frowned before speaking in his awkwardly nasally voice.
“You’re laughing now but when you have the cold I’m not going to take care of you,” he squeaked, “how would you like that?”
“I can handle a cold,” his partner replied bluntly, “I’m not a baby.”
Ayato opened his mouth to respond but closed it instead as an itch rose to a crescendo in his throat and sent him hacking. He covered his mouth, his already sore chest racking as he did. “God,” he wheezed, “damn,” he continued, “the fucking cold!”
His partner could have laughed again but they truly did feel bad for him. He didn’t take being sick well and he hated having to depend on someone else to watch him so he didn’t choke on his own air. He was stubborn beyond belief.
When Ayato had finished his coughing fit he laid back on top of his blankets, shivering and cursing under his breath. His partner was usually the little spoon, in fact, they always were but watching Ayato curl in on himself they were overcome with the urge to warm him. And when he didn’t object to their arms wrapping around him and pulling him close, they relaxed.
Ayato was not sleeping. He hardly slept when he was sick, it was like he wanted to be awake to enjoy every ounce of mucus he could. He didn’t speak though. His partner nuzzled the back of his neck, absentmindedly playing with his hair with their free hand. His body was really hot, like seriously on fire.
“Maybe you should take your shirt off, are you not sweating?” They asked, looking over at him as they propped up on their elbows to meet his lazy eyes.
He shook his head. “Are you trying to have sex with me while I’m sick?” Ayato smirked as his partner quickly and frustratedly tried explaining they were only trying to do “what was best for him” whilst calling him a “jerk”.
Ayato laughed. He actually laughed. And then he coughed. He yanked at his shirt until it came off and turned to his partner. He curled into them like a cat, hands balled into fists of their shirt as if he was worried they’d run away. It was unusual but not unwelcome. He had a strange way of expressing himself when he really wanted to. He didn’t want to depend on someone but, he thought, if he had to depend on someone, he’d want to depend on them.
“Want to do me a big favor?” Ayato mumbled. His partner nodded. Ayato relaxed his grip on them and almost smiled as he looked up from where he was cuddled into their chest, “will you go make me some coffee?”
“Only because you’re shirtless and asking so nicely.”
It was yet another diplomatic meeting with a new planet, trying to rally up some support. This planet, Vandia - Shiro had lost track of all of them, he had no idea where in the universe they were anymore - had agreed to discuss an alliance. The Vandians were overjoyed to meet the legendary Voltron paladins. They’d been a little too enthusiastic - especially when they’d learned by accident that Shiro had a prosthetic arm.
They’d told them that they had a machine that could regenerate any living organism. They’d offered to regrow Shiro’s arm.
Shiro had declined - he wasn’t broken and didn’t need to be fixed - and had wanted to leave, but Pidge had been wide eyed and had practically begged to see the technology. Shiro was finding it harder and harder to say no to all of his teammates, particularly Pidge, and he’d been assured that no harm would come to them if they demonstrated it for them. Shiro had been wary, but relented when he saw how excited it made Pidge and Hunk. Even Keith was interested.
Sometimes it hit Shiro that they were all just kids, forced into this by accident. They weren’t like him; they’d still been at the Academy and relatively innocent. They’d done amazing things, grown into their roles, and Shiro tried to humor them when they found something that excited them, that made them seem like the kids they were supposed to be.
Usually, it was fine. This time, not so much.
The machine had malfunctioned, because of course it had. The Vandians were beside themselves, tripping over each other trying to fix it.
And somehow, Shiro’s team had all been turned into toddlers.
“Fascinating,” Coran said, kneeling to be eye-level with a very wary Pidge. He looked maybe two years old. “Young Earthlings look so…peculiar.”
“Please tell me this is temporary,” Shiro said, inserting himself between a squabbling Keith and Lance. Eternal rivals, no matter the circumstances. It was impressive, if Shiro was being honest. Also, incredibly irritating.
“Not to worry!” the Vandian assured him. “We’ll have it up and running in approximately…four klicks.”
Shiro looked at them, then at Allura and Coran. Then back at them.
The blue eyes of an extremely rare bird hadn’t been seen for nearly a century. In one of the most extraordinary stories in Brazilian conservation, a group of researchers have announced the comeback of the Blue-eyed Ground-dove. Last documented in 1941, it was believed extinct. But now the species has been found at top-secret locations in the Brazilian state of Minas Gerais. However researchers can only confirm sightings of 12 individuals, so securing its habitat will be the key to conserving this elusive bird.
Requested by @youthoughthatwasagoogidea:
Hey! I’m new here to you’re blog and I like you’re writing alot. I’m also not sure if requests are open or not, but they like to be so I’d thought I’d give it a shot. I would like to request a Peter Pan imagine where Pan is very protective of them and they get put in danger but she gets out of it herself. Pan gets upset then and the reader and Pan have a sass off. Not too sure how to end it though. I’m sorry for rambling on! Please and thank you even if you can’t.☺😊😉
Here’s the finished one-shot, lovely!! I do not own Pan or Felix. They belong to abc’s “Once Upon a Time.”
Warnings: brief mentions of an attack, sass
Pairings: Peter Pan x fem!reader; mentions of Felix
Of all the people on Neverland, you
were the one that gave Pan the most trouble. You were constantly going where
you shouldn’t and always starting in on the boys. The reason? Pan had no idea,
but he thought it might have something to do with the fact that you were the
only girl on the island. That was probably the reason you could get away with
sassing Pan the way you did, too.
Request: could you write something where the reader (Female) is saved by Sam and Dean, and they both fall in love with her, and she loves them both so she has to make a decision? You can choose who she picks. But yeah, that would be amazeballs. Thanks!
So i never see sports ones ever and i play softball so i thought itd be cool if like a demon was terrorizing a local town and they go to a softball field where theres a tournament going on so theres a BUNCH of people. They meet the reader when shes playing like making a diving catch from the outfield and tackling them in the processe. So she helps them (and ends up) killing the demon. They think shes total badass by the way thank you :) sorry its different…
Well. It seems we have dropped a sweet on the ground. Trepan is not the kind of mech to pick fuel up off the ground so I guess it is free game. We have a packet in out hand anyway we are snacking out of in the park.
Bob’s helm perked up, smelling something sweet and savory. Master had let him outside to work off his excess energy, and after being cooped up for way, way too long in bug time, he had run off the first chance he got, needing to run free and play in the foliage.
And oh boy was he glad he did! he might not have smelled the sweet otherwise! That wasn’t just any confection, it was an energon goodie!
Following his olfactory senses, Bob shuffled over to where an orange and white colored mech was munching, spotting the treat on the ground in excitement – he dove for it, scarfing it down in record time with a happy churr. Four sets of optics looked up at the lithe mech, hoping he would drop more.
Slightly over 2500 words of fluffy Gruvia fun ~ rated teen
The light snow coming down had turned into a thick flurry. Juvia wasn’t able to see Gray from a block behind anymore. She hastened her pace and gradually lessened the distance. The flying snow had in turn obscured her for a long time. He’d turned around at the exact time she’d been visible under a street light. Freezing in place hadn’t worked. Gray had called out to her and demanded she give up or join him.
Not knowing what to say, Juvia meekly trudged over to the waiting man. He shook his head and offered her his arm. “I thought you gave up following me.”
“Juvia did, but sometimes Juvia misses…” She bit her lip and spoke softer, “watching Gray-sama go about his business.” Juvia lowered her eyes to the snowy sidewalk.
“Tch.” Gray patted Juvia’s hand, now in the crook of his elbow. “You were doing so good - you’ll have to give me a forfeit now. Mmmm, what do I want?” He began walking down the sidewalk, towing Juvia with him. “I’m heading back to my apartment now, you wanna watch a movie?” Gray turned to face Juvia as he asked, paying no attention to the conditions underfoot. He slipped, pulling Juvia down on top of himself. She shrieked in surprise as he yelped. “Shit!”
“Is Gray-sama okay?” Juvia struggled to pick herself up and help Gray rise to his feet. He acted as a dead weight and sabotaged her efforts.
“I think I’m fine.” The ice mage began laughing, clutching onto Juvia as she wriggled. “I’ll never be able to live slipping on ice down.”
“Juvia will never tell!”
“I know what I want now, though.” Gray grinned up at Juvia, entwining his fingers with hers. “A kiss.”
So this ended up way longer than I intended. Inspired by this fic. And I definitely have a thing for shorter Remus/taller Sirius, even though apparently everyone in the fandom likes the opposite, but oh well, I do what I want.
It was a clear summer night, the stars bright and the moon a crescent in the sky, and the four Marauders sat in a field on the Potter estate drinking firewhiskey Sirius had bought while the others waited around the building’s corner, Peter letting out the occasional whimper, convinced they were going to be caught and he’d spend the rest of his life in Azkaban (“Oh for Merlin’s sake, Pete, even if we do get caught [which we won’t, Padfoot’s a pro at this] they wouldn’t send us to Azkaban over a little underage drinking!” an exasperated James said [for the fifth time].) They passed the bottle around, on their third one now, getting drunker and drunker until Peter suddenly keeled over, passed out. (Remus dove epically to try and stop Peter from hitting the ground too hard; Sirius dove epically to try and stop the bottle of firewhiskey Peter was holding from spilling.)
“Looks like Wormtail’s done for the night,” James said, slurring his words a little. He stood up, stretching. “Think I am too. If I drink any more I’m going to pass out myself, and I know you sods won’t carry me in, you’ll just leave me out here in the field while you go sleep in warm, comfy beds. Don’t deny it, we all know it’s true!” James could be a bit dramatic when drunk.
“Who’s denying it, Prongs?” Sirius said. “You’re damn right I’d leave you in the field! More bed for me.”
“Padfoot, you do realize there is no logic in that at all, right?” Remus chimed in. “We have separate beds. James not being in his won’t mean you’ll have any more space in yours.”
“It’s the principle of the thing, Moony,” Sirius said with what was supposed to be a decisive nod.
Remus just shook his head, knowing full well there was no point in arguing with drunk Sirius (or sober Sirius, for that matter).
James pointed his wand at Peter’s unconscious form, gave a little swish-and-flick, and began walking the two of them back to the house, leaving the remaining two Marauders to finish off the firewhiskey.
Neither Sirius nor Remus spoke; they just passed the bottle back and forth in silence for a while. It was killing Remus. Sitting here. Alone. With Sirius. Sirius, who looked so damn good in that leather jacket. Sirius, who looked so damn good without that leather jacket, which he’d just shrugged off and tossed on the grass. Sirius, whose t-shirt rode up every time he brought the bottle to his lips. Sirius, who looked so beautiful in the starlight. In the moonlight. (At least the moon was good for something.) Sirius, who had no idea how crazy it drove him when he ran his fingers through his hair like that. Sirius, who didn’t know how it felt like a full moon every time Remus saw him kissing some girl. Sirius. 100% straight Sirius.
“Hey Moons, have you ever fancied anyone?” Sirius asked out of the blue.
“What?” Remus asked, taken aback by the question, given his current train of thought. Had he been staring too long?
“Have you ever fancied anyone? Like, really fancied them. More than just some snog you know you’ll be over in a week.”
“You mean more than your average Tuesday?”
Sirius laughed. “Yeah, more than my average Tuesday. But I’m serious, Re. I know I date a lot of girls, but there’s this one person – girl I mean, this one girl – and she just makes me feel like no one else. I’m mad for her, Moons, I really am. And I just don’t know what to do about it.”
“Well Pads, have you tried, oh I don’t know, asking her out?” Remus asked, unable to keep all the bitterness out of his voice.
“Nah, it’s not that simple.”
“Why not? It seems to work every other time you’ve tried it.”
“Yeah, but she’s not your average girl, Moons. There’s no way she’d go with me. She’s way out of my league.”
Remus snorted. “What is she, a Veela? No, actually I don’t think even Veela would be out of your league. There’s like – ” he held his hand a little above his head, indicating height – “you and Veelas around here, and then everyone else – ” he lowered his hand to just below his waist – “down here. How can she possibly be out of your league?”
“Ah, you don’t get it, Moony. She’s like, the most incredible person I’ve ever met. She’s brilliant, like really brilliant, and the kindest person in the whole world. Honestly, she’d give up her life to help someone else, I mean it. She’s got the most beautiful soul. It’s so deep. You look at her and you just feel so insignificant in her presence. Because she’s just so damn deep. And if you’re lucky enough to look her in the eyes, it’s incredible. You can see galaxies in there, Re, whole galaxies. And she’s got these freckles that go across her nose, they’re really light, but when she laughs they get all scrunched together and her nose scrunches up too. Drives me crazy. And her laughter is like music, the most beautiful symphony to ever exist.
“I love to watch her read. When she gets really into a book, you can just tell that she’s in an entirely different world. And it just makes me so damn jealous, because she can just slip into another world and escape everything. Everything wrong in life. She can be in a world full of happy endings. A world where the guy always gets the girl. And wouldn’t that just be so fucking fabulous? To know that your happy ending is out there? That you can create it however you want? I’ve read some of the books that seem to be her favourites, when she isn’t looking, and I fell in love with them too. It’s like they just managed to somehow absorb her wonderfulness. Like by reading them she somehow gave them a piece of her soul. And when I read them, it’s almost like I can grab on to that little piece of soul. Almost. It always manages to dance just beyond my fingers. Probably because I know she’d never have me.
“If I’m here – ” Sirius raised his hand like Remus had – “then she’s in the very heavens themselves.”
Remus was silent for a while. He was thankful for the darkness; Sirius couldn’t see him fighting back tears. Why did he have to be in love with Sirius? Even if Sirius weren’t straight, Remus could never compare to a girl like that. And Sirius was head over heels for her, that much was obvious.
He finally spoke, once he was sure he could stop his voice from trembling: “You need to tell her how you feel, Sirius.”
Sirius’ voice was quiet when he answered, barely more than a whisper, and it was filled with a kind of terror Remus knew only too well. “I couldn’t bear it if she rejected me. It’d destroy me. Absolutely, completely, utterly destroy me.”
“But Pads, it’s destroying you now. Every day you spend without her, it’s destroying you. Until you’re 25 and look like you’re 90, wasting away to nothing because you let her slip away. Soon you’ll stop eating, stop sleeping. Because every time you close your eyes you’ll see her, you’ll picture her with someone else, and so you just can’t close your eyes because the sight is too much to bear. And every day death will look more and more enticing, more and more preferable to the hell you’re going through living without her. You’ll die, Sirius,” he said, his voice breaking. “You need to tell her. At least if she rejects you you’ll know, and you can try to move on. But believe me, you can’t keep living like this.”
It was Sirius’ turn to be silent. He sat there for minutes without speaking, and Remus was terrified that Sirius had figured him out.
“You know how I said if I was here – ” Sirius said, holding his hand up again – “then she was in the very heavens themselves?”
“Well Moons, she’s – he’s – right up there,” Sirius said, pointing.
“Don’t be daft,” Remus said. “That’s just th–” he whipped his head around to face Sirius. “The moon,” he whispered.
Sirius just stared at him, the bottle of firewhiskey hanging loosely from his fingertips, forgotten.
Remus jumped up, backing away from Sirius a few steps. “No, no, no. That’s not what you’re saying, you did not just say that. This cannot be happening. This is not funny, Sirius. This is not a joke. You can be a real prat, you know that? You play all these pranks on people, but you don’t know when to quit. You don’t know when it’s too far. Well this is too bloody far, Sirius. Do you know, do you have any bloody idea, what you do to me? How crazy you drive me? How absolutely fucking mad I am about you? But then you must, because otherwise where’s the joke, right? God, do you know how long I’ve been in love with you, Sirius? Since first bloody year.”
Sirius stood up now too, facing Remus, but several paces away.
“So what makes you think” Remus continued, “what makes you think that you can just go about telling me all this?” Tears were streaming down his face now. “You have no right to tell me that you love me!” he shouted.
Sirius said nothing, but began walking slowly, cautiously, towards Remus. Remus raised his wand and began firing spells at Sirius, unable to stop himself, trying to just bloody stop Sirius from coming near him, because how dare he? He threw hex after hex, but Sirius deflected them with ease, never breaking his stride, until he was all but pressed up against Remus, who couldn’t help looking up into the taller boy’s eyes. Sirius took Remus’ face in his hand, wiping away tears with his thumb.
“Remus,” he said softly, “I swear on my life, I meant every single word.” He stepped closer, their bodies touching now, and bent his head towards Remus’, hesitating for a moment, before bringing their lips together. It was a brief kiss, and light. Their lips barely made contact at all, but it was electric. And then he couldn’t help himself, he needed more, needed to feel Remus’ lips on his own again, and he wrapped his hand in Remus’ hair, pulling them closer, and he pressed his mouth to Remus’ as if they were the only thing giving him life. And Remus kissed him back, passionately, ferociously. The hand that wasn’t tangled in Remus’ hair wrapped around his waist, tugging him closer still, and Remus was wrapped around him, hands restless, first clutching Sirius’ hips, then wrapped around Sirius’ back, grabbing his t-shirt in his fists, then one making its way into Sirius’ hair, hair that was even softer than it looked, and Merlin, how was that even possible?
They kissed for what felt like ages, barely even coming up for air, each desperate to consume the other, to drink in as much of their love as humanly possible, to make up for lost time.
When they finally broke apart, Sirius leaned his forehead against Remus’ and asked, “Since first year, really?”
Remus nodded. “Ever since you pulled that stunt on Flitwick.”
“Merlin, Moons, that was like… the second week of school,” Sirius said, incredulous.
“September 12th,” Remus said. “James was late to Transfiguration the day before, for the third time, and McGonagall gave him detention. You were trying to cheer him up.”
“How did James manage to be late three times in less than two weeks? Never mind, that’s not the point. Who cares about James,” he said with a smile. “Right now, it’s just us.”
“What about you?” Remus asked.
“What about me?”
“How long have you known?”
“That I’m in love with you? About the middle of fourth year. James kept talking about Lily, how he felt whenever he was around her, and at first I didn’t really pay it any mind, but then I started noticing how I got those same feelings whenever you were around. You’d look at me and I’d get chills, I couldn’t look at you back. Whenever you were somewhere else, like the library, or if we had separate detentions or something, I’d notice myself getting all jumpy and anxious, like a drug addict in need of a fix. I hated letting you out of my sight, and full moons were the worst. I felt like my heart would rip out of my chest. I just wanted to help you, to make it so you never had to go through that ever again. I prayed, Re. I actually prayed. I don’t even believe in any god, but I still prayed every night that anyone or anything that might be out there would switch it, so I’d be the one instead and you’d never have to fear a full moon again. I told the universe I’d be willing to go through that every single night of the rest of my life if it meant you never had to anymore. Except I didn’t even know why I was willing to go through all that for you, or why I felt the way I did whenever I was around you. Because boys are supposed to like girls, that’s just the way it is. And in ‘the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black,’ it was very clear that that’s the way it was. So I started dating girls, one after another after another, trying to force myself to like them the way I was supposed to. I made myself a ladies’ man because I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t… I don’t know, broken? I didn’t even have a word for ‘gay,’ that’s how taboo it was in my house. I didn’t know it even existed. But the more I tried to go with girls, the more I knew it just wasn’t right. Not for me. I didn’t let myself be in love with you until the end of fifth year, but by then I knew I had been since the middle of fourth.”
“Well it took you bloody long enough to do something about it.”
“Hey, you never did anything about it either!”
“No,” Remus said, “I didn’t. You were very convincing in your role as a ladies’ man.”
“Well now I’m a Moony’s man. And I think I will be ’til the day I die.”
Nightbyrd3 prompted: Mike and Ginny being married and Mike’s induction speech at Cooperstown.
Also I have absolutely zero idea how a hall of fame induction works, so I hope this isn’t too far off the mark.
Mike straightened the stack of index cards for the hundredth time hoping it would make the speech he’d prepared sound less corny. Fidgeting with his tie, he tried to ignore the thudding in his chest. “I’m going to blow this.” He muttered.
“Definitely.” Ginny said coming to stand in front of him. “And the whole world’s going to see you do it.” She pushed his hands away from his tie and loosened it slightly, flattening his collar.
“There aren’t that many cameras out there.” He protested. Ginny arched an eyebrow. He swallowed then narrowed his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be telling me everything is fine and I’ll do great?”
Ginny snorted. “Like your ego needs the boost.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “We both know you do best when you’re showing off for me.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “So prove me wrong.”
Mike scoffed, trying to ignore the way his cheek tingled. Glancing around he had to remind himself that they were allowed to do this now. It had been 3 years since he’d proposed and yet he still found himself looking over his shoulder when giving Ginny affection in public. “Now who’s got the ego problem.” He said, putting his arms around her waist.
“Still you.” Ginny said, leaning against him. “You know everyone’s going to be focused on you today. I’m going to be there and all they’ll care about is your bearded face.”
Mike snorted. “You love the beard.” He said flexing his fingers on her hips. “You married and had a child with the beard.” He frowned. “Where’s Jackie?”
“With Al. He’s sitting next to us and I asked him to watch her for a few seconds.” Ginny hummed in amusement. “I needed to make sure you weren’t having a meltdown.”
“2 Minutes, Mr. Lawson.” A event coordinator said. Mike nodded and swallowed nervously. Ginny shook her head.
“Let me see that speech?” She asked, holding up her hand between them. He handed over the cards without a second thought. An impulse he regretted the second the papers made contact with Ginny’s palm and she let them fall to the ground. “Oops.” She grinned as he gasped and looked down at the ground.
“What the….” He dove to the ground, but she kicked the stack, scattering the cards. He hadn’t numbered them, hell he wasn’t even sure what he’d written on them and there was no way he’d be able to reorganize them on time. “You crazy woman.” He growled, looking up at Ginny’s amused grin.
“Come on, Captain.” She tilted her head. “You telling me you can’t come up with an inspiration speech about yourself?”
“40 seconds, Mr. Lawson.” The coordinator said.
“That’s our cue babe.” She said, offering her hand. He let out a breath took it, getting to his feet and walking over to where Al was waiting with Jackie. She’d worn her prettiest dress and had a matching blue bow in her hair. Beaming up at him in her version of her mother’s smile, she helped fuel his focus. Picking her up he gave her a kiss on the cheek Al looked at him with interest.
“You alright there, Lawson?” He asked.
“Yup.” He said. “Just figured out that I married a crazy lady. Right rookie?” He didn’t give Ginny a chance to respond before smacking her ass and sauntering out. He sat next to Ginny with Jackie on his lap, waiting for them to announce his name. She smirked at him out of the corner of her mouth as he handed Jackie to her before going to the microphone. Glancing out at the sea of reporters, he took a breath and focused, pretending that he was behind the catcher’s mound and that Ginny was about to shake off one of his carefully called pitches. Smiling, he looked out in front of him.
“I had a carefully planned speech ready, but my teammate for life ruined it by tossing the index cards on the floor.” He paused, hearing Ginny’s eye roll without turning to see it. “Thanks, Hon.” He said. “It made me nervous, but…then I realized that as unpredictable as that was…it’s a perfect analogy for my baseball career.” He glanced over at Ginny before looking back at the crowd. “I started playing with the Padres 20 years ago. 20 years ago I never would have believed that I’d be standing here today.” He bit his lip. “Okay, that’s not true.” He let the crowd laugh. “I definitely thought I’d be here today, but if you’d have told me how I’d be standing here, I’d have told them they were insane.” He relaxed, getting into the flow of the speech. “I never would have believed I didn’t get a World Series ring. I never would have thought that I’d spend 18 years with the same team.” He stopped smirking and looking back at Ginny. “And if someone had told me I’d fall in love with and marry one of my teammates, I’d definitely think they were delusional.”
The crowd laughed again. Ginny flushed slightly and leaned her chin on Jackie’s head.
“This game.” Mike began, waiting for the crowd to quiet down. “This game is unexpected. I’ve played it my whole life. It’s a part of me for as long as I can remember. It’s brought me joy, pain, heartbreak, new knees…” He paused for more laughter, looking over at Ginny. “It’s brought me love and standing here I can’t say I know what happens next, but I do know that being included for the time that I was is an honor and a privilege.” He smiled. “There’s a few people I’d like to thank. Al Luongo for his wisdom and guidance. Blip Sanders for being my right hand man and Evelyn Sanders for secretly taking over the world. Oscar Arguella and the entire front office. My teammates, who there are too many too thank by name…” He smiled back at Ginny and Jackie. “My daughter, Jackie for using marker on my tie this morning and reminding me not to always take myself so seriously and…” he swallowed. “There was one more person, but…their name was on the cards and now…” He leaned against the podium pretending to be deep in thought as Ginny let out a loud laugh behind him. “Ginny.” He looked back at her. “I’ve given you a lot of speeches, whether they were on the mound or over diaper changes but…I hope you’ll forgive me if can’t find the right words to tell you how unbelievably lucky I am to have you in my life.”
Ginny grinned and nodded. After posing for about a thousand pictures and a private tour of the hall of fame, Mike, Ginny and Jackie were piled into a limo, driving towards the celebratory party Evelyn had thrown.
“You did good, Old man.” Ginny murmured, playing with his tie. Mike grinned.
“Yeah, I did.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Expect retaliation when it’s your turn, Rookie.”
who would win? you, because luckily for you you brought an extra tube of toothpaste and he runs after it after you throw it behind his back and you decide to take advantage of this situation to knock him out... nice... how do u feel being the hero of seventeen's toiletries?
who would win? you, maybe but how would you feel knowing you've eliminated everything good and pure in the world? so really who's the winner in the end when this is all you think about for the next thirty years of your life... the answer is no one. no one wins.
who would win? you, but why...? what joy would you feel? what if he cries himself to sleep at night and it haunts you for the rest of your life? have you ever watched those animal planet specials where the lion goes after the baby gazelle? how would u feel being that lion... asshole
who would win? jun. notice how you see him and you are mesmerized by him but you don't know enough about him..... what's his story? what are his secrets? watch your back he's going to take you out when you least expect it
who would win? hoshi, but it'd be by a stroke of luck that he accidentally manages to kick you in the head and knock you out while he's trying to demonstrate a cool new dance move he invented on a whim
who would win? debatable. on one hand it's wonwoo, and who can't take out wonwoo? on the other hand.... it's wonwoo. wonwoo, who had to crimp his hair for months and field phone calls from his parents asking why? it's wonwoo, subject to labels like emo when all he ever wanted to be was hip hop
who would win? woozi, because you'd try to say something to challenge him and he'd call you out on how your tone is flat and you can't even hold a damn note when you're talking and honestly? can u be put in the damn song at this rate? and fuck man you aren't even in seventeen but he's right
who would win? dk, because in your confusion trying to figure out whether to call him dokyum or seokmin, he would take the time to sing the highest note he can manage to ruin your ears forever. and you cant even do anything because have you ever seen a god damn angel like him before god would spite you and your future generations
who would win? mingyu, because you dodn't know what hair products he's hiding under his sleeve and can you imagine how painful it would be to get hairspray in your eyes and mouth
who would win? the8, and he would probably feel bad about it and not realize it's a fight until after you're crying on the ground because you dove in as he tried to show you how to do a cool bboy move and got kicked in the process but can you really hold this against him
who would win? seungkwan, because you're trying to insult him and catch him off-guard but he turns the tables when he starts playing 2ne1's ugly... you're dazed and he takes you out then and you can't even retaliate because he's already called his mom to tell her the good news and you're not that evil
who would win? you, but will anyone ever know? because vernon's all bark and no bite. you take him out easily but he's already made a rap about you on smtm4 about the time he "took you down," topping it all off with a middle finger that joshua's going to have to talk to him about. are you truly satisfied?
who would win? okay but why the fuck would you? he'd probably demonstrate his michael chanson dance moves to try and distract you and you could probably take him out then but... why would you? no one wins. no one. and if anyone has to, it's him. you let him win.