#Angelica has kind of taken the side line in this one | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

legaciestold · 11 months ago

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march 29th, 2009 rp drabble/rp lead-in included: claire, sherry, & leon (+ chris, jill, and ingrid mentions) also pertains to @everythingheard

moe's did a decent amount of business considering how difficult it could be to find at times and the state of the rest of the block it was on with boards still on the sides of the two buildings next door. the light outside shone bright now at least, though. six months ago a fire had had taken out the bakery and comic book shops next to it. luckily the fire department had managed to stop the blaze before it'd fully engulfed the restaurant but the damage had still been extensive and the other businesses had taken their insurance payout and relocated. moe's on the other hand had been a staple in the area for years even if it wasn't really known to people outside of the neighborhood (claire had only stumbled upon it on accident years ago and come there ever since) and no one had been willing to stand idly by when the insurance company hadn't been willing to cover as much as they believed they should have.

that's why claire had helped out with the fundraiser that had been formed to help moe get the place back in shape. it'd been a testament to humanity, a flicker of reassurance that there was still good out there even when claire had seen the worst people were capable of so often both in raccoon and in the images seared into her mind both from her time with terrasave and now with the bprd. moe had been brought to tears when he'd been presented with a check and the commitment by the local construction company to help because moe had helped them out by sending them free food when the family-run company had one of it's members in the hospital and most of the workers hadn't thought to ensure they were getting meals during that awful time. sherry had made cookies to help raise money too when she'd found out about it and those cookies remained edible even if claire's track record with cookies had become a legendary joke that she always seemed the butt of. (she has half a mind to make coal-looking cookies and put them in christmas stockings this year.)

the restaurant's comfortably busy on this lazy sunday afternoon as sun filters through the window and angelica-- the waitress that always rotated weekend shifts with their usual server diane-- greets them at the counter. the scene causes a strange sort of feeling to wash over claire when she stops angelica and tells her that actually, maybe they'll sit on the other side today and the waitress looks at her quizzically but then offers a soft smile. for a decade they've always sat in the back, a little further off from the other tables but in full sight of both the entrance and the side door that led out to the alley. a mix of habit and ensured and required security. still, perhaps the fact claire is on a first name basis with the staff of the pizza joint is an indication that she's provided sherry with a few unhealthy eating habits over the years. yet, in a strange kind of way, this restaurant has been with them all nearly as long as raccoon and seen glimpses into the various aspects of her, sherry, and leon's lives over the years.

sometimes claire wonders what they must look like to diane or angelica or even moe who always seemed to have a new kind of desert ready for sherry (despite the fact it was a pizza joint and not an ice cream parlor), even after the girl had graduated high school. the amazed wonder on sherry's face never had seemed to dissipate upon the new creations either, even if sherry was about to enter training to become an agent of the same government that'd run more tests than any of them could count on her for years. claire thinks, on the surface, maybe, they look like any other family coming in for lunch at their favorite restaurant but she also knows even if they'd only ever skirted the line of information and frankly the bizarre too that some inferences have been made on the part of the staff and maybe that's also gone both ways at times. loud noises always made claire's eyes dart to the doors in her line of sight. when her, leon, and sherry came there it was just them but over the years when claire has brought sherry 'by themselves' there was always one of three men who'd seat themselves at the diner-style counter across the room, not actively part of their little group but still present as they always were when claire took sherry places. claire had hated that, at first before she'd grown to accept it and a par to claire wonders if it really was a kind of resigned acceptance at just being used to it or because somewhere along the way she'd started to actually-- at least to a point-- allowed herself some amount of trust in simmons especially after he'd gotten sherry into that school even if that'd taken a hit after prismya and claire found out he was the one who blackmailed leon, or some combination of all factors.

(they hadn't followed her to work or when she went out, except that one terrible month terra save had gotten those horrid threats and simmons had insisted they watch her too. but they were always present when sherry went out places. it'd been the price they paid for government protection. distant enough to not always be readily noticed at her insistence, but always there.)

claire had also grown fairly invested in the ever-developing relationship that seemed to be agent blake and diane even if she wouldn't readily admit to such. but people weren't stupid. the staff knew something had been up and had accepted them as being regulars at the restaurant for a decade. they'd seen sherry grow up, sherry even bringing her two best friends there and causing the usual shadow agent to have two others there too. claire imagines that might have been a bit of a comical scene and also grants the boys some credit since this place likely wasn't a usual kind of place they'd frequent. the staff had also seen jill and chris on a few occasions earlier on as they'd all come to have dinner. they'd seen hell.boy once too, when they were closing and he'd been in the transport directly after a mission and she'd picked up about ten pizzas she'd pre-ordered to bring back and while he was supposed to stay hidden, hell.boy hadn't and moe hadn't reacted in the way she'd believed he would which had only ever caused claire to have more questions than answers about moe's own origins and why he'd reacted as if he saw people like hell.boy all the time. but moe never asked her to reveal her secrets so she hadn't asked him either. they'd seen them all in various states of healing bodily harm too and while claire knows from the looks they'd get they itched to ask, they never did. there'd been a kind of acceptance across the board. and there's a kind of hidden communication in this moment that passes between them all too, as chairs are pulled out at a table and angelica says she'll be right back with their usual drinks.

there's an understanding in the fact that claire has moved their table that something has changed even if angelica doesn't know what.

there's also a knowing smile that claire sees mirrored in sherry and leon's faces too even if claire still seats herself angled to one of the doors and leon does other. old habits die hard and they are all too aware of the world they live in even in the moments like these they determine to forget it for awhile. blue-gray hues move across the restaurant and meet moe's who peeks his head out and waves at them, claire smiling back brightly and offering one in return. idly claire wonders if they have a betting pool on if their group is some super secret spy family right out of spy k.ids or if one of them has endeavored to try to look leon up and believes he's taken up after his long-dead family on the crime scene. huh, actaully, maybe not that; for some reason claire thinks maybe the government or more likely hunnigan may have wiped his connection to that, at least publicly. she's never had reason to check, leon's told her about his family and for that matter, jill has mentioned a few things she knew about them too. that was a bit of a mind-fuck, that while maybe claire and leon certainly knew each other longer in terms of time spent together, technically jill met leon first. what would that have looked like if zombies had never happened and they all had met at the police station in raccoon?

it's all rather fantastical and claire bites back a chuckle, her knee gently brushing against leon's under the table as they shift to start sipping their drinks when angelica brings them. maybe he's thinking the same things she is. it doesn't really matter either way.

there's something lighter about this sunday and it's filtering through every moment as it passes. because even if they are all aware there's still danger out there, one of those dangers which has lingered over them for years is gone. albert wes.ker is dead and with him the last trace of umbrella even if technically speaking it'd been almost six since the fall of the company and three since spencer's death.

i don't know where you are trent, but i hope this brings you peace too, claire thinks.

(or at least the old umbrella, claire was reserving both judgement and the right to believe it could be just as bad when it came to blue umbrella; after all, claire knew that chris hadn't been thrilled about their contract to supply the bsaa with weapons to use against bo.w.s that'd been implemented two years ago.)

and, chris had jill back.

that and the fact that sherry was joining the dso meant that the 'protections' that had laid upon the edges of claire's life for almost a decade would now ease. it meant agent blake wasn't gonna be coming to the restaurant with them anymore, though claire had the feeling she'd still see him at the restaurant.

oh, she'd bet money on it.

and claire thought she'd be okay with that. blake had always been nice and endeavored to make the situation feel more like a friendship than a secret protection detail. he asked sherry about school and even was college friends with one of sherry's friend's details. claire had a certain level of trust in him that she'd never completely had with the other two agents who always felt so much more rigid and.. well, spy-like. if she had to guess that anyone was actively reporting back to simmons (no matter the tentative trust he'd managed to get from her because she had come to believe that despite the fucked up history there in the aftermath of raccoon and the deal that haunted her and leon's chance at a relationship for so many years, that surely simmons did care about sherry and her own well-being after so many years) about their lives-- which she hated the idea of--, she'd have banked on it being them and not blake and claire really hoped she wasn't wrong about that.

"so i was thinking, maybe we should all take a trip to new york before sherry starts her training." claire says, the cherry flavor of her soda lingering in her mouth as she looks from her daughter to her boyfriend.

god, three years of her calling him that and it still did strange things to her.

the shift between them both changing everything and nothing at all because they were still them, it hadn't been some monumental moment like in the prince.ss diaries but a moment where they'd let themselves see everything and choose to embrace it. so really, they acted much the same, had the same care and love and everything in-between that had always existed between them, there was just... kissing and sex included now.

"i think it'd do jill good to see some friendly faces that aren't trying to make her a lab rat and only want to fill her in on all the episodes of psych she missed." there's a kind of weighted tension on the edges of what she says but a kind of lightness too. because wes.ker was dead and they had jill back and claire thinks that maybe, finally, no matter what the bprd or dso or the joint task force throw at them in-between, maybe they all-- especially her brother-- could finally breathe again. if only until the next crisis the universe decided to throw at them.

the rest of the day goes rather unceremoniously, a rarity that no alerts managed to come to any of their phones and they could just exist in the moment and this little blip of normalcy. distantly she wonders if ingrid has something to do with it and if she does, she's entirely grateful for the day of respite that they are all being blessed with. and well, sherry was talking about moe's latest creation for days to come even if claire and leon's daughter was twenty-two and no longer the twelve-year-old his first sundae creation had been given to.

#everythingheard #muse; claire redfield #muse; sherry birkin #v; bprd: biohazard timeline #muse; jill valentine #raph this verse of ours is gonna be the death of me so many feeeels #mygraphics;#ships; claire x leon #ships; jill x chris #drabbles; claire redfield #muse; ingrid hunnigan

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fanciful-follies · 8 years ago

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!!!! Thank you! :)

#but really #if y'all have advice #or suggestions/requests of things you want to see with eliza and Theo #pls tell me #they're definitely going to be in it more!#I've got plans #it's just gonna take a few chapters #I just always struggle giving all the side characters time #maria has gotten a lot #and I'm trying to get Peggy in there #Angelica has kind of taken the side line in this one #but i wrote her a lot in DWYD #and wanted to try some other characters

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beautifulsnake2162020 · 3 years ago

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Ikevamp headcanons after watching Hamilton

Quick disclaimer: Yes I know this is a show about people who had owned slaves and slavery is bad. Having said that there's a reason why we suspend disbelief for a couple of hours and just allow ourselves to be swept into the story. I also love Phantom of the Opera but I also am aware that this is a story that involves an abusive and toxic relationship. The point is that I am aware that there are problems that needs to be discussed, but I still love the music, the story and the shows okay. This is just fan content not meant to be taken seriously and is just for fun. Okay? Now let's proceed.

I'll be doing Will and Arthur first since I'm currently doing Shakespeare's route and was inspired to do this after MC watches Romeo and Juliet with Vincent and I was wondering how Will would react to watching Hamilton. And Arthur is here because he is my husband/main lover. I might do Mozart and Napoleon next.

SPOILER ALERT: For anyone who hasn't seen the Disney Plus version of Hamilton, there might be some spoilers here (unless you already saw the show or know the story that is).

General Scenario:

You don't know how but Le Comte was able to get the filmed version of Hamilton, a musical which you've told Sebastian that you've been dying to see but was never able to because tickets were always sold out and entering the lottery was going to be a little too expensive for someone who lives in Japan and who doesn't exactly have the money or the time to simply fly to New York if in case she won. You were also excited because apparently Le Comte was able to modify the 21st century tech room that you use for your online classes and was able to get a wide screen and high quality surround sound which made you appreciate his efforts. A part of you was also curious as to how the other residents would react. You were scared that some of them might take offense, especially Napoleon who knew one of the characters in the show in real life. Would they react weirdly for seeing people different from them portray people that they knew? You were also wondering if they might even appreciate some of the 21st century slang that you and Sebastian would sometimes slip back into whenever it was just the two of you alone. After talking it out with everyone and explaining a few more things (like how its probably going to be different since it is a series of captured pictures-or at least that's your closest analogy- being played super fast with the synchronized sound of the actors- or what you were almost tempted to call "Techno Magic") during a dinner in which Shakespeare had decided to be present in, they were actually interested in what this show is about. Napoleon convinced you that he's fine and actually someone else playing Lafayette might even help with the suspension of disbelief since its been awhile since he has last met him anyway. Will even mentioned that while he has read and heard about stories from America, this is probably going to be the first story or production he's going to see from it. The only one who showed any hesitation - to no one's surprise - was Mozart, since he is attached to the kind of music he is familiar with (aren't we all?). But after prodding from both Jean, Le Comte and you giving him the puppy eyes, he finally relents. The day comes when everyone was once again free and for practicality everyone decided to have a meal first so that they won't be hungry during the show and also for you, Le Comte, and Sebastian to explain a few things everyone else may need to know to truly appreciate the show (like how the Presidential system and elections worked during the setting, what the word "Rewind" means, what is beatboxing, etc). So finally everyone gathered into the tech room after the meal, the lights were dimmed and once everyone was settled, you hit play. And as self-predicted of you, you find yourself crying in the end.

William Shakespeare (I'm still doing his route so please don't hate me if I get him wrong. Also no spoilers please).

- He was a bit shocked at first by how exactly up close you could see the facial expressions of the actors as well as the various ways it would cut to another person. He could now understand why you struggled with trying to explain how its played in a theatre but not exactly like the theatrical experience. But as you saw in your periphery, by the time Philippa Soo sings her first line, Will had already adjusted and allowed himself to be an audience and shut off his director and actor mindset (for the most part at least).

- While he didn't specialize in musicals, he found himself paying attention to the story of "the ten dollar founding father without a father." He knows how music could help both the actors and the audience in succumbing to their emotions in a scene and to suspend disbelief from reality. In his productions the words are not overwhelmed by any score but rather complemented to bring out the emotion he wants to evoke and for actors to show. Since many parts of the show has been influenced by the spoken word style without completely removing it from being sung, he has become enlightened with how powerful a show can be when it is done right.

- He not only enjoyed the story (especially the flow of it) and the production (especially some of the more technical details that the other residents hadn't noticed as far as a stage production is concerned), he loved that even the ensemble members had good acting and some of the onstage humor. One of the meta things he enjoyed was the obvious reference to his most superstitious work.

- Once you've seen how he loves analyzing the technical details of the production, you excitedly tell him about a special member of the ensemble who is known as "The bullet" among fans of the show. You could see him being enlightened as he watches the show with you again (this time with just the two of you) and he now sees "the bullet" and the way she interacts with the characters in a whole different light. He was so impressed with this idea that he may have adapted it into one of his new original plays (its not a copy paste of Hamilton's "bullet" but he definitely adapted assigning a member of the ensemble to have a special role that may not be significant at first, but he heavily notes that this member would have to be unique in interacting with any of the other characters).

- He didn't know what to expect from a 21st Century production but he found himself impressed with the prose and writing of various raps and songs. His favorite from Act 1 in terms of rhyme schemes was "Right Hand Man" and from Act 2 it was Jefferson's rap in "Washington by your side". And after settling down a bit his favorite emotional parts were "History has its eyes on you", "Hurricane", and "It's quiet uptown".

- He was impressed with how the double roles was given and how it actually is true for both of their roles in both acts. Ambiguity is one of his favorite things to have in a work, and he gives props to Lin for all the ambiguity he later realizes was in several parts of the show. If he and Arthur had been a little bit more closer, they probably would have bonded over the ambiguity Hamilton's comma in his letter to Angelica (see kids, grammar matters).

- A part of his brain wonders how the real life Hamilton would react to this and if him and Burr would still be enemies. But after some thinking he decides its not worth his efforts of asking anyone to bring them back since a wonderful production of their life has already been made even if it may not necessarily reflect who they truly are. He of all people knew what it's like to be inspired by great figures, it was fortunate that Lin Manuel Miranda decided to make a show about them before he had the chance to.

- You explain that in America Hamilton is one of the lesser known founding fathers of their nation and how it may be because his political opponents later on became Presidents and therefore was able to form the narrative. He becomes inspired by it and begins to search out people or stories who are hidden gems who may not be historically famous but had much more interesting stories than some of the ones he has heard of.

- Afterwards once you are sure that he has gotten comfortable enough with the genre you show him various videos of people rapping to his works and his reactions range from impressed to amused to "that's not what I mean when I wrote that" and you had to calm him down and explain that they can't hear him anyway after he started giving serious critiques on what the text means.

Arthur Conan Doyle

- While he was knowledgeable about many things, America's founding fathers was not one of them. He along with the other residents have gotten used to any rumors or exaggerated accounts of their lives and you and Sebastian have already warned that this is just a fictionalized production of the real person. As a writer of some historical fiction books he argued that he of all people was aware that any work based on history will speak more about the creators rather than the actual people they are writing about most of the time. He was nevertheless interested as to why you have become fascinated with the treasury secretary (and maybe it was with a twinge of jealousy that you began to expressly show admiration to another man even if he wasn't among the residents in the mansion). After all unlike many other residents of the mansion, on the surface it seemed that Hamilton was similar to Theo who mainly played a supporting but crucial role to his brother. He was thankful that you didn't hold it against him and was comforted that you were in a similar place. You even told him that the only thing you really knew about Hamilton before listening to the soundtrack and watching "Animatics" was that he was in the ten dollar American bill.

- And as someone who has delved into writing historical fictions, this was probably one of the most entertaining productions about a historical figure he has seen. He's going to be honest with you in that at first he was wondering if revealing Burr shot Hamilton in the opening was going to hinder him from enjoying the show; but he was pleasantly surprised that this was not the case at all. As a matter of fact it now made him want to find out who the real Hamilton was (although a part of him doubts if the real Hamilton had any regrets at all). According to him, this is why as a fictionalized historical work, the show is a success because it makes you want to find out more about the events and figures of the story (even if it means looking at darker realities that they did). And while the real Hamilton may be a lot different from what was shown, with all the things he went through and all the things he has done (for better or worse), he now wonders why exactly Le Comte hadn't approached him since he seems to be no better or worse than the average resident ("He and Newt could probably discuss mathematics all day."). You then explained that his political rivals (Jefferson and Madison from the show, and Monroe who wasn't shown in the musical) had later on become Presidents and was able to shape the narrative away from Hamilton. "Ron Chernow made Hamilton's biography because he was the lesser known founding father who was fading into obscurity among Americans and Lin read the book and recognized the story of someone who has risen through his writings. And to Lin that was also the story of hiphop." While he wasn't involved in politics as much as Hamilton was, Arthur had enough experience to know what it feels like to have those kinds of people in power. He also knows just how powerful it is to be in "the room where it happened" and how sometimes the real decisions weren't being made in an office but rather in either a private party or the right bar when people in power had their guard down and were more susceptible to being influenced.

- He could relate a lot with Hamilton on many things that he's only comfortable allowing either you or Theo to see. From being just so much more aware of death's inevitability coming for every living thing to survivor's guilt even though a part of him knows its irrational (but sometimes the emotional nonsense just overtakes our perspectives and actions). It's why he could understand Hamilton's need to write as much as he can before he dies. It's why for a time in his human life he had deviated from writing about Holmes and ventured into other genres. He could also relate to the need to prove what type of person he was, and how to go beyond his tragedies to serve people in their own ways. Hamilton did it as a soldier and the creator of America's financial system. And he is doing it as an informally practicing doctor and as a writer. It's a need that he's trying to mitigate since you've repeatedly told him that he doesn't need to prove anything to you or to anyone and to write whatever he pleases. But he also can't deny that it's still somewhere lodged in the back of his head.

- Just like William Shakespeare, in terms of the wordplay found in rap and the ambiguity present in the show and how those things were executed made him amazed and momentarily speechless. He was especially fanboying about "The comma after dearest" and how this essentially shows how important grammar was. It went to the extent that afterwards whenever he would write to you he would address you either as "My dearest, Y/N" or "My darling, Y/N" with special emphasis on the comma (sometimes you could see how there's more ink in the comma than some of the actual words. That's how much he wants to emphasize that you hold the title of dearest or darling). And you excitedly share with him some of the trivia knowledge of the show (like how in real life it was Angelica who originally made the comma mistake by writing to Hamilton as "My dear, sir" in one of her letters and it was Hamilton who was asking her what the comma means and even replied with "Ma chere, soeur") and how Angelica really did reference the Icarus metaphor in one of her letters to Eliza. And even though he wasn't a major musical nerd (he sang for fun), he would now join you in watching Howard Ho's Hamilton videos musically analyzing Hamilton (and would probably try to find a way to use this knowledge to annoy Mozart in some way).

- Speaking of music: Maybe it's because he's biased in his love for you but aside from Sebastian he's probably the one who has no qualms about the hiphop genre and was immediately into the various wordplays that rapping allowed. And because of this his favorite characters in terms of rapping are the ones played by Daveed Diggs (probably more than Hamilton himself even though you've explained that Lin is the one who wrote the whole thing). He even adapts to how Daveed as Jefferson would say Isaac's third law and incorporated it into his "let's tease Newton" kit. That's when you know he really loves Daveed Diggs ("Every action has an equal opposite -" "WILL YOU PLEASE STOP SAYING IT THAT WAY?! I didn't mind the first few times but this is ridiculous Arthur" "It must be nice, it must be nice to have a Newton on your side"). And his favorite character emotionally was Angelica (her raps in Schuyler Sisters and Satisfied may have helped).

- Speaking of the Schuyler Sisters, after watching it with you another time (this time with just the two of you) one of his favorite things to say is that you've got the best of all three sisters within you (Angelica's wittiness and intelligence, Eliza's cares for the more important things in life, and Peggy's humor) with the sexiness of Maria Reynolds. But because he sees all 4 of them in you he has the benefit of not needing to choose among them. Having said that there will be a period wherein he teases you if he makes you "Helpless" or "Satisfied" (and you respond either by kissing him or singing "That would be enough").

- Whenever you would sing as one of the Schuyler sisters he will join you as any of the male characters the moment he masters the soundtrack and could even sing it without the music. His favorite rap songs are "Guns and Ships", "Washington on your side", and of course "Satisfied". He also really loves "Non-stop", "the 10 duel commandments", and "The room where it happened". But his favorite sequence is from "the Winter's Ball" all the way to "Wait for it". Since it has romance, a shocking revelation, and gives insight to the perspective of the antagonist. He's also one of the first people to attempt to learn the choreography whenever he's in one of his mental blocks in writing. Of course he makes sure not to injure himself.

- He posts song lyrics to keep himself motivated in his times of mental block "There's a million things I haven't done. But just you wait" and "I'm not throwing away my shot" frequently appear around his desk.

-And whenever he's feeling low or insecure, just like Eliza you remind him to "Look around, Look around, how lucky we are to be alive right now."

#Ikemen Vampire #Headcanons #ikemen william #ikevamp #Hamilton #William Shakespeare #Arthur Conan Doyle #Ikemen Arthur #Lin Manuel Miranda #Daveed Diggs #Philippa Soo #Ron Chernow

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lizzzweasley · 4 years ago

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Love Potion (George x Reader)

*This is a re-write of my original ‘’Love Potion’’ story, i wasn’t happy with some of the details, so i’m adding a little bit extra to it, just so it makes sense for the future of this story*

*This story takes place during The Goblet Of Fire, about a month after the attack at the quidditch attack*

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You arrive at the platform. Wheeling your trunk with one hand and carrying your bag of books in the other. You take a breath in, you have gone through and back through the platform at least 10 times before, but you hated the feeling of walking through, it made you dizzy and sick, but only for a moment and then you would walk out the other side ready to board the Hogwarts Express. You also remember Neville telling you about a boy named Harry who had once walked straight into the wall, claiming the platform had sealed up. You were still sceptical about this claim, but still, you didn’t want to walk face first into a wall.

With a deep breath in, you look around to make sure there are no Muggles near by and start to jog, your jog turns into running-skip as you mentally prepare to walk straight into a wall, you squeeze your eyes tight as you feel that rollercoaster-type drop in your stomach. When you open your eyes, you are there, surrounded by crowds of people.

You see families waving their goodbyes, but you are alone, like every year, your grandmother always says goodbye outside Kings-Cross but never crossed the platform. “Bad for the skin all that fast travel” she would say, but you felt that wasn’t the reason she wouldn’t cross with you.

You see people staring to pair off in their respective house’s to get a good cabin before they all got too full. “You don’t want to be stuck in a cabin next to that Longbottom boy, or Loonie Lovegood the whole journey” you heard Penelope say one year, although you were quite fond of Neville and Luna and had spent odd journeys with the two of them and genuinely enjoyed their company, after all that’s when you were told about the “boy who lived” walking straight into a wall.

You see the Weasley family, and his mother licking her thumb and wiping the corner of Ronald Weasleys mouth, he looked embarrassed as Harry shot him a hidden laugh. You didn’t know all of the Weasleys but you knew of Ronald, Ginny, the twins of course, and Percy.

You are scoping over the platform, looking for angelica, looking quite nervous as you’re walking closer to the train, and closer to the Twins.

George taps Fred on the chest with the back of his hand and uses his head to motion in your direction.

“Too pretty for you, mate” Fred says jokingly.

You see Angelica and begin walking towards her, waving both your hands in the air, she puts up her hand and waves back. her dark hair is bouncing as she is practically skipping towards you from the other side of the platform, “sorry, oops, sorry! Sorry, ‘scuse me, sorry, thank you!, sorry” she says as she is weaving in and out of the crowds of people.

You are nearly passing the Weasley-clan now, and George is still unknowingly staring straight at you, you look up and find yourself looking straight into his brown eyes, you give him a shy smile and he cheekily gives you a wink, which made you shyly look away and back to Angelica, I suppose she thinks you were smiling so much because you were so happy to see her, which you were, but you were smiling so much because of that damn wink.

She doesn’t even stop to say hi, she just drops her bags onto the floor, and practically throws herself on to you, and into a hug, which makes you drop your bags

‘’I’m so glad you’re okay!’’ She shouts pulling herself away to cup your face in her hands.

‘‘Why wouldn’t i be...’‘ you respond, feeling very concerned

‘‘You...you mean you didn’t hear what happened? at the quidditch world cup?’‘ she questioned

‘‘i’ve not been told a thing..’‘ you said, very dryly

‘‘we, we will get on the train and i tell you, i’m shocked your Grandmother didn’t tell you anything’‘ she said

‘‘yeah...me too’‘ you responded.

Angelica was a little taller than you, and had a thin frame, her dark eyes always looked smokey and sultry, and her dark complexion was simply gorgeous. Sometimes you felt like a child next to her, with you being shorter than her, shorter than most. But despise the fact you two were almost totally different in every way, you always had each others backs, and she never left you for the more popular girls, even though she fitted in more with those girls than you, she still adored you, and wanted it no other way.

“Let’s go find a cabin, before the good ones get taken” she said jokingly with a wink, trying to lighten the mood

“You’re starting to sound like Penelope” you giggled.

You grabbed hold of your heavy bags and hoist them onto the train.

You wheel your bags down the carriage and straight to the back of the train

“Here will do!” She giggles, knowing damn well this is the cabin you usually sit in, because no one else would take it, it was one near the back, it was the shakiest cabin on the train, but the upside was the sweet trolley came to your cabin first.

You step up on the seats as Angelica passed you your trunks to put in the overhead storage, they were too high for you to do stood on the floor, after lifting both your trunks into the storage, you both placed your book bags on the seats next to you, and both you took a seat next to the window, opposite of each other, legs up on each others seats creating a bridge between your seat and hers.

You look out the window and see the back of the Twins, waving their mother goodbye, they then turned, you saw George’s face, thought of that wink, and smiled.

“He’s so hot” Angelica said, talking about Fred

“Yeah he is” you respond, talking about George

Neither of you took in what the other said, you were both too busy looking at the boys.

they were getting on the train and were probably getting ready to start their mini pop up shop of joke sweets and accessories. The boys always started at the opposite end of the train to the “trolley lady” (as Angelica liked to call her). They would start at the top of the train and work their way down, find themselves a cabin and use their earnings to buy themselves sweets off the trolley.

The train let out its first whistle of two. this first was a signal to any (first year) students that are not yet on the train, to wiggle themselves free of their family’s embrace and sloppy kisses and get on to that train. After a few years you learn to turn up early and get a cabin.

The second whistle indicated that you were (about 30 seconds) from setting off.

“I think we will be getting ready to set off soon!” Angelica said excitedly.

The last of the students hurried on to the train and squeezed into full cabins.

“Do anything fun for autumn break, y/n” Angelica asked, genuinely interested.

“Not really, no, muggle school you know, got to keep up with the Muggle studies as well as the Magic ones, you know my grandma” you said rather straight “what about you?” You asked Angelica.

“Oh my break was good y/n! Until what happened at the quidditch world cup’’ she responded hanging her head slightly.

‘‘What happened?’‘ you asked, feeling stupid for not knowing.

She explained the attack, and how the dark lord may be back. ‘’we’ve not seen or heard anything for about a month so i’m assuming they’re deeming Hogwarts safe to be open i guess’’

The second train whistle blew, it was 11am.

“Best get comfy” you said to Angelica, these train rides seemed to get longer the more years you had been at Hogwarts, it felt like home, and you couldn’t wait to go home.

The “trolley lady” usually started her rounds about half an hour into the journey, she liked to give people time to get settled, but more so, get hungry.

“So, did you get to talk to Fr..” you were cut off

“ANNNNNNNNYTHING OFF THE TROLLEY DEARZZZZZ” you hear a deep voice shout.

“That can’t be her” you said checking your watch “it’s not even half past yet”

“ANNNNNNNNYTHING OFF THE TROLLEY…. DEARZZZZ” you hear the voice say again, you open the cabin door and there is Fred and George Weasley, mimicking the trolley lady, with a brief case full of joke items.

You look at the full brief case and back up at George.

“What would you recommend” you ask him

“WELL FOR YOU, DEARRRR” he said still mimicking the trolley lady “HOW ABOUT A LOOOOOOOVE POTION, FIRST OF THE LINE DEARRRR, COME GIVE IT A WHIFF” still using his trolley lady voice.

“What are you trying to say to me, George Weasley, that I can’t find a date?” you joking scold him

“Looks like she’s doing just fine on her own” Fred leans and whispers to George, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

George shoots a “pack it in” look to his brother over his shoulder.

“Give it a whiff then?” George asks again “rumour has it, you smell your favourite thing”

You move close enough to George and you can smell him, he smells like black currant, citrus, dark chocolate, incense, amber, vanilla. He opens up the love potion and you go to take a smell. “Doesn’t smell like anything, must be a dud” you say

“Well, honestly, we didn’t have anyone to test it on, fancy giving it a whirl?” George asks.

“No can do! That is the most dangerous potion in the world!” You joke.

He closes up the brief case “don’t suppose you’ll let us sit in there with you? The rest of the train is packed”

“YEAH, I mean, no worries” Angelica shouted, but then tried to play cool.

You always knew she had a crush on Fred, she just never said anything to him.

Fred took a seat next to Angelica, and George opposite him next to you.

“Good business this year, boys” you ask

“Not really” Fred says

“Looks like people are either holding onto their money a bit tighter, or our products this year are crap” George said, pretending to joke, but you could tell he was a bit bummed about it.

“I’m sure your products aren’t crap” Angelica said reassuringly

“Let’s have one of those love potions then” she says to Fred.

You shoot a wide eyed look at her, a “don’t you dare use that” kind of look.

Fred quickly opens up the briefcase and hands her the love potion for 5 Galleons.

“So, you boys get up to anything good this break?” you ask, mostly directing your question to George

“Well our brothers came to visit, we went to the quidditch World Cup, unfortunately, but mostly Ginny was pestering us to teach her Quidditch, so that was pretty much it” Fred responded, despite your desperate attempts to get George to speak

“ANNNNNNYTHING OFF THE TROLLY DEARS” the Trolley Lady started

You all giggled, thinking of Fred and George’s mimic of her

“I’ll never be able to hear that the same, thanks to you” you said shooting a look at George, he winked at you again, and you melted.

You got up and opened the door, “yes, us please” you say to the trolley lady

“Same as usual?” you turned and asked Angelica

“Please” she smiled

“Two liquorice wands and a Fairy Fizz for Angelica” you say to the Lady

You turn and see Fred and George turning out their pockets, counting their money together

“We don’t have enough, mate” you heard George say and Fred looked disappointed. This hit you in the chest and you just felt so bad for them.

“Two pumpkin pasties … and two Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, two Chocolate Frogs, one Pixie Pop and another Fairy Fizz, please” you asked

“Of course dear!” The lady said as she bagged your sweets and drinks, you handed her the money, grabbed your bag, closed the door and sat back down next to George.

Fred and George were still looking disappointed with their lack of sweets, you reached into the bag, picked up a box of beans and threw it in the air towards Fred to catch, you handed the other box to George and then did the same with the Chocolate Frogs.

You then reached over the cabin and handed Fred the Fairy Fizz drink “my favourite” Fred said

You handed the Pixie Pop drink to George, “MY favourite” George looked at you.

“How did you know this was my favourite” George asked, laughing.

“Well seeing how you both drink them with your Breakfast, Dinner and Lunch I assumed they would be!” You smiled, looking dead into George’s eyes

“You can tell us apart?” George asked

“Of course I can, George” you said softly, putting your hand on his hand that was on his knee, there was a second of silence between the two of you and you looked into each others eyes. This was the first time George felt like his own person and not just “one of the twins” and he liked that the person who could tell them apart, was you.

You both snapped out of it and pulled your gaze away from eachother and moved your hands away.

He reached into his briefcase and handed you a love potion.

“What’s this for?” You asked tilting your head to the side

“Payment, for the sweets” he smiled.

You reached, grazed your hand over his, and took the love potion, knowing you wouldn’t use it, but the gesture was nice as it was the only “girly” thing these boys made, and put it in your pocket.

You spent the rest of the journey trying the different beans, throwing them in the air and catching them in your mouths. Seeing what cards they got in their Frog box. Angelica and Fred started getting closer, whispering to eachother and laughing at their own jokes together, leaving you and George to talk about Classes and what happened at the Quidditch World Cup.

The train was pulling into the station now “this has been fun, George” you said smiling at him

“It sure has, we should do it again some time … if you want” he said, this is the first time he has looked shy

“Is that a date, Mr Weasley?” You said laughing

He went red and laughed along not knowing what to say to that.

The train came to a complete stop, and you got ready to stand back up on the chair to reach your bag, George stood up, towering over you as you were still sat down, something about seeing him looking down at you lit a heat in your stomach and you felt your cheeks going pink.

He reached up in the overhead cabin and pulled your bag down for you

“Blimey y/n, what do you have in this bag, a hippogriff?” He laughed and placed your bag on the floor for you to take.

Angelica grabbed her bag off the overhead locker.

You both grabbed your bookbags and followed Fred and George off the train.

You went to take the small step off the train and George held out his hand for you to stabilise yourself with, you took it, and he winked.

When you got off the train you asked Fred and George “are you coming to the meal?”

“Afraid not y/n” said Fred

“Gonna try and flog a few of these items to the first years before we eat” said george

“okay, Freddie, well, see you ‘round” Angelica said to fred

“Freddie?” George mouthed to you, rolling his eyes and you both laughed. Fred looked very embarrassed at being called this and the fact that you and his brother noticed made it even worse and so he slightly shook his head.

You started to walk up to the boats and turned around to see George watching you walk away “See you around, Georgie” you shouted over to him, mocking Angelica, George smiled and shot you a wink, and you felt that fire again.

——————

When you got to the common room you begin to unpack all your things and when you sat on your bed you felt a clink in your pocket, and you remembered the love potion George gave you, you opened it up and took a smell of it, it smelled like black currant, citrus, dark chocolate, incense, amber, vanilla, it smelled of George. And then it hit you, you couldn’t smell the love potion because you were standing right next to him, and they smelled the same. You felt bad for calling his product a “dud”. But smiled at the smell of it. You spent the next few at nights before bed taking a smell of it, you knew you had to tell him.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #george weasely smut #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley #fred weasley sm #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #hp

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imbeccablee · 4 years ago

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Snippet of Separated ch 8. - Just Dot

Hi! It’s been forever! and the chapter isn’t even halfway done! life is going great /s :)

Anyway, here is the first two pages or so of the chapter. They’re more or less complete, though when the chapter itself is finally released, there might be minor edits to it. I thought I’d give you this to try and tide you over while I try to get my motivation to come back. Enjoy!

Mommy didn't stop talking a single time during their ride to her house. Dot mostly tuned it all out, still quite exhausted and floaty from her surgery, but the little she did catch painted Mommy and her husband as good Samaritans who were looking out for the city. It seemed, according to Mommy, that she and her husband were the epitome of angelic humans. And, again, somehow Dot doubted that.

She also mentioned stuff like parties and etiquette and proper grooming, but Dot just could not focus for the life of her. She hoped it would all come up again, when she was less drugged.

(There was also a recurring name that dropped, one that Dot didn’t catch the meaning of. Mommy’s tone was always proud when she said that name—Angelica—but it also had an air of wistfulness to it, or melancholy. Dot didn’t know the significance of it, because she caught every fifth word and none of it made sense. She hoped this would come up again too.)

Dot was shaken from her half-conscious state when Mommy exclaimed and tilted her toward the window. "Look, darling! We're home!"

Dot blinked blearily through the glass and gazed upon a huge house that sat on a hill, surrounded by a big stone wall and intricate metal gate. The building was two-stories high and absolutely gargantuan, made of stone and dark wood with huge glass windows. The driveway was lined with immaculate cut trees that somehow still looked pretty even when they were half-dead.

Dot couldn't help gaping at the sight.

It was just… so big! So beautiful! She couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to live in a place like that! And it was only occupied by Mommy and her husband? Why on earth did they need that much room?

The orphanage had had two stories too, but only because if it didn't then everything they needed wouldn't have fit. This building, on the other hand, looked so large for a two-story that it probably could have held the orphanage building in it three times and still have space.

"Incredible, isn't it?" Mommy asked.

Dot could only numbly nod in agreement.

(She couldn't help but think how many people this house could have held, and how many people were currently freezing to death on the streets.)

Soon, they made it all the way up the driveway, which ended (or began, depending how you looked at it) with looping around a small patch of flora onto itself, and stopped before the porch steps. Mommy secured her arms around Dot and the bag of painkillers, and the door opened from the outside.

Mommy stepped down the fancy folding step and walked toward the staircase leading to the house without a glance at the person tending to her. Over her shoulder, Dot saw the coachman fold the step back up before returning to the driver seat.

She wondered if he worked for Mommy and her husband, or if he was just giving them a ride?

She caught his eye before he went off and gave him a little wave. He smiled and tipped his hat to her, before ushering the horses forward. Mommy carried her through the front door before she could see where he was going.

Dot faced forward again and took in the foyer. It was quite pretty, with immaculate wood flooring and a red and gold rug covering most of it. A few paces in front of and to the side of the door was a large staircase that led to the second story, carpeted in red. There was a huge candle chandelier hanging over them, and there were archways in the walls to the left and right of them, leading to the next rooms over. A long hallway was in front of them, leading further into the house. On the walls down the hallway hung paintings of inanimate objects and people Dot didn’t recognize.

The door shut behind them, and Dot turned her head towards the sound. Pushing it shut was a man dressed in all black except for a white shirt underneath the jacket. There were gold buttons going up one side of his jacket. Once the door was fully shut, he stepped off to the side with his hands clasped behind him and his back straight, as if waiting for more orders.

Dot’s brow creased a little, and she tried to catch his attention by waving a little. His eyes flickered over to hers and she mouthed thank you.

The man seemed a bit stunned before he let a small smile grace his face and he nodded to her once, before returning to his stiff posture.

“Welcome home, miss,” someone said.

Dot turned back forward and saw a woman in a simple black dress with a white apron over it standing a few paces in front of them, by the staircase. She must’ve sneaked in when Dot was distracted by the footman.

Her gaze flickered toward Dot. Her eyes flashed with surprise for a moment before dulling again.

“Pardon me,” she said. “Misses.”

Dot giggled a little, and the housekeeper’s lip quirked.

Mommy hummed, a proud little smile on her face. “Yes, we have a new member of the family. Make sure to treat her as you treat my husband and I.”

The housekeeper nodded. The mirth drained from Dot. For some reason, the thought of being treated the same as her new… parents left a bad taste in Dot’s mouth.

Mommy nodded. “Alright. Now, be a dear and bring…” She trailed off like she lost her train of thought. Dot looked to her curiously and found Mommy’s eyes on her, like she was looking for something. Then she giggled a little. “Darling, it appears I’ve forgotten to ask your name.”

Dot startled a little and realized she was right. What kind of person adopts a kid without knowing their name? Dot supposed she just assumed Mommy had gotten her details from Dr. Madream and—actually, had the doctor known her name either? She’d never been taken to one before despite the fact that she probably should’ve. Did she even have medical records?

Wait. If Mommy didn’t know her name, then that meant she didn’t have any of Dot’s papers. That meant she didn’t know Dot’s legal name was Angelina, which meant—

“It’s Dot,” she said, feeling the slightest bit giddy that she could finally be called by the name she preferred.

“Oh, what an adorable name for an adorable girl!” Mommy said and nuzzled Dot’s nose.

Dot couldn’t help a small giggle as Mommy turned back to the housekeeper.

“Take Dot up to her room, will you? And get her into some proper clothes.” Dot was handed over. She wondered what the difference between proper clothes and what she was wearing right then was. “I’ll see you later, darling. Mommy has some work to take care of.”

#animaniacs #wakko's wish #dot warner #animaniacs 1993 #separated

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itskateak · 4 years ago

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Mint Ice Cream & Bubblegum Kisses - Chapter Two

(Bucky Barnes x Single Dad!Reader)

Series Summary: Y/N L/N works as an intel specialist at the Avenger’s Compound. He scans chatter on the international - and intergalactic - level for any information that might be helpful to the Avengers and other agents. But he’s also a single father to a beautiful eight-year-old girl: Angelica L/N. It’s tough raising a little girl on his own and working a full-time job, but he’s managing. A promotion has him launched up in rank at the Compound, leading him to work directly with the Avengers team. The only problem is it’s a 24/7 job. Life around the compound gets a little strange when his daughter is added to the mix of enhanced humans and ex-assassins.

Chapter Summary: Adjustment to a new environment is always difficult, but Angelica seems to be taking it well. Y/N meets the other members of the team and watches as they take Angelica in as one of their own.

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of bullying, like one swear word

A/N: The Scott mentioned is not Scott Lang. I'd like to make that very clear just in case there was any confusion. Updates should come much quicker. I just got hung up on this chapter for some reason. :P

Taglist is still open! If you want to be added, come stop by my inbox and send me a <3!

Masterlist

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Y/N brushed his hands off and sighed. He'd just finished unpacking the last of his things. The last week had been filled with packing boxes and making trips back and forth from the house. It was tiring and strange to move from the house they'd been in for ten years. He placed his hands on his hips, looking around his new quarters.

The room was large with more than enough space for all of his things. Books lined up neatly in bookshelves, other trinkets scattered along the shelves. Pictures of Angelica hung on the walls, only broken up with a few nature shots. He straightened his shirt out and jumped as arms wrapped around his waist.

"Papa!"

"Holy - Angelica! You scared the living daylights out of me." Y/N placed a hand on his chest, his heart beating strongly. Angelica giggled and bounced past him to flop on his bed. Her hair was pulled up out of her face since she'd been working to set up her room, too.

"I need help hanging my fairy lights." Angelica rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin up with her hands. She kicked her feet back and forth idly, looking up at him with doe eyes.

"Well, I just finished up with my things so let's go do that," Y/N sat on the edge of the bed and gestured for her to climb onto his back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he stood, shifting her further up. "We can finish unpacking the rest of your things, too."

"And then can we get some ice cream from Pop's?" Angelica asked, her legs swinging as they walked down the hall.

"Kiddo, I have to get some work done to set up my office for Monday. Maybe after school and the library tomorrow." He said, letting her slide a little. She squealed, tightening her grip around his shoulders.

"Papa! Stop! Don't let me fall!" Angelica laughed, her hands clawing at her father's shirt.

"Baby, I'd never let you fall," Y/N grinned and squeezed her leg gently. "That time on the boat in Cape Cod should be evidence enough."

"I'd never heard you swear so much."

"The water was cold and I didn't expect to fall!" Y/N defended himself. When she was six, they had gone to Cape Cod with a friend for summer break. On a particularly warm day, that friend had taken them out with a speed boat. Angelica had gotten a little too close to the edge when they were anchored and had slipped. He'd caught her, but in turn, fell overboard into the cold water. "I don't swear often around you but it just slipped out."

"Yeah, fourteen things just slipped out." Angelica snorted. "And the combinations used were just - mwah - Magnifique."

"Angelica Ellaine L/N, I will drop you right here, right now." Y/N threatened playfully. "And where did you learn that? Magnifique?"

"Our neighbor, Scott! He comes to visit Miss Irene sometimes to play dress up." Angelica waved her hand in a poor imitation of a drag queen's flamboyant gesture. "You better work, dahling! Yas!"

Y/N laughed and nudged her bedroom door open with his foot. She was just down the hallway from him, but with enough space in between to have some distance and privacy. He turned and let her fall onto the safety of her bed.

"Where do you want the lights?" He asked and picked the strand of lights up. They were little warm lights in plastic jars that mimicked fireflies in jars. Angelica liked them the most out of all of the ones she had since they reminded her of her favorite movie: The Princess and the Frog.

"Above my bed! They're really nice to read by." Angelica sat up and pointed to a location near her pillows. There were at least four piled up, as she liked having many, claiming that it felt like sleeping on a giant cloud.

"Okay. Scoot, then, so I don't step or fall on you." He gestured for her to move and she scrambled off with a giggle. "Be prepared to hand me the command hooks."

"On it!" Angelica rifled through a plastic bag, looking for the package of hooks. She poured a bunch into her hand and bounced back over to where her father was.

Y/N carefully stood on her bed, balancing on the soft surface. He dropped the lights at his feet and held his hand out for a hook. He centered the hook with the wall, thankful the bed was centered as well, and firmly pressed it against the ceiling. After giving it a second, he bent down to grab the lights.

"Do you want them to hang low?"

"And to wobble to and fro?" Angelica countered, placing her hands on her hips. "Can you tie them in a knot?"

"I'll tie you in a knot." He mock threatened, looking at her over his shoulder. She stuck her tongue out at him and he returned it. "Do you want them to hang low?"

"Can we play with it?" She asked, head tilted, her sass melting away now that she was focused on something else. He swore his child had the attention span of a goldfish or the brain of a monkey. She would see something shiny and get distracted very easily.

"Well, I need to know where to put the other hooks, you dork." Y/N hung the lights on the hook, perfectly centered. He grabbed one end of the strand and held it up, moving it to show different degrees of slack. "Tell me when."

"Uhhh.....there! Perfect!"

"Yeah, that looks perfect." Someone said from behind them, startling them both.

They turned to see who it was and were greeted by a red-haired woman leaned in the doorway, arms folded over her chest.

"Hey, little monster. Don't think we've met." She smiled and gave a small wave to Angelica. "I'm Natasha Romanoff."

"You're Black Widow!" Angelica beamed, eyes wide. She was nearly vibrating with excitement, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I'm Angelica."

"Nice to meet you, Angelica. I saw the door open and thought I'd come say hi. The others might stop in, too. Barnes and Rogers are on a mission right now, though, so don't go looking for the fossils." Natasha hitched her chin at Y/N. "Might want to move that to the right just a touch so it can be even on the other side."

"Thanks, Natasha." He held his hand out for a hook again. "Kiddo, you're starstruck. Hook, please."

Angelica didn't move and he sighed, shaking his head in amusement.

"If you ever want to learn how to defend yourself, little monster, then talk to your dad and come find me. I like the lights." Natasha winked and disappeared from the doorway.

"Are you gonna hand me a hook?" Y/N teased, turning to look at his star-eyed daughter.

"Black Widow likes my lights." She grinned.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

"Okay, lunch break?" Y/N asked, stretching his legs out. He'd been on the floor for an hour or so unpacking the rest of her decorations and trinkets. The muscles in his thigh seized up and he hissed under his breath, massaging the side of his leg gently.

"Ugh, yes, please." Angelica bounced off her bed and onto her feet. "Carry me?"

"Ha, that's funny. You have two legs. You can walk." He snorted. "Come on, let's get some lunch."

Angelica slipped her hand into his and they walked together to the common room. She skipped along beside him, humming some random tune. She was settling into their new home well. He was afraid she would be uncomfortable with the new change and struggle to adjust. But everyone had been welcoming so far.

"And I told her she was crazy for doing it, but she just went in, guns blazing. Literally." A voice drifted from the kitchen followed by laughter. "I hate it. She's gonna get us killed one day."

"But you have some good stories to tell." Another voice, accented, floated into the hallway.

"Damn straight."

Y/N poked his head into the kitchen and smiled. "Hey, Sam. Wanda."

"Hi, Y/N. And mini Y/N." Sam Wilson leaned against the counter and waved at Angelica when she came into view. "I'm Sam Wilson and this is Wanda Maximoff."

"Nice to meet you. Angelica, yes?" Wanda's eyes crinkled up when she smiled. Her chin was resting in her hand and an unopened bottle of water rested just in reach.

"Yeah! And you're Scarlet Witch and you're Falcon, right?" Angelica bounced on the balls of her feet, her excitement lighting up her eyes.

"Wow, yeah. That's who we are." Sam said, looking to Y/N with an amused smirk.

"She's kind of a fan." He shrugged, looking at his daughter who was practically bursting with enthusiasm. When he'd told her the full details the week before, she had gotten up from the dinner table and bounced around like a kangaroo on a sugar high. Like many other kids her age, she looked up to the Avengers as heroes.

"Well, now, I guess you're an honorary Avenger. Welcome to the team, little one." Wanda glanced at the clock and her eyes went wide. "Oh! I'm supposed to be training with Stephen in ten minutes. I should run and change."

"Yeah, you should. You know how he gets when you're late." Sam snorted, rolling his eyes dramatically in Angelica's direction. She giggled.

Wanda hopped off her stool, swiping her water bottle, and wiggled her fingers in a wave, red energy floating through the air around her hand. "See you around, little one." She left through the kitchen's other door.

"C'mere, kid. Let's pick a name for you." Sam rounded the counter and picked Angelica up, setting her on the stool. "I'm thinkin' something magic-related."

"Hey, Sam, have you eaten lunch?" Y/N asked, moving to the fridge to see what he could make. He looked through the drawers, finding it easiest to make sandwiches with what they had.

"Nope. You offering to cook?" Sam sat on the other stool and reached for his phone.

"I'll make you a sandwich. I'm not cooking anything special." Y/N placed a packet of cheese and a container of ham on the counter. He grabbed the bread and a couple of knives, starting to make Angelica's favorite sandwich: ham and cheese with brown mustard and mayonnaise. Where his kid had picked up a love for brown mustard, he had no idea, since he didn't really care for mustard.

"Thanks, Y/N. So, Angelica. Let's get you a team name."

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Y/N shifted his desk to face the door, moving it to be perpendicular to the right wall. That was one thing he hated about being in a cubicle. He had always hated it when people snuck up behind him. Now, with the glass walls, he could see when people came up to his office. The windows behind him also brought natural light. Another thing his cubicle hadn't had.

He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, a little too warm from moving things around. He dragged his desk chair around and sank into it, leaning back. There were plans he wanted to implement into his office, but that would happen over time. So far, he had a desk and a couple of monitors. Picture frames and smaller trinkets would decorate his desk and walls soon.

At least there was a couch and an extra chair. He'd have to get an end table and a coffee table for visitors. But those plans were for later and not right now. What mattered was that he could work comfortably for the time being and have space for Angelica to do homework.

"Ooh, fancy!" Angelica, speaking of the little mischief-maker, appeared in the doorway. She ran towards the couch and jumped over the armrest, flopping onto the cushions with a squeal. "So, this is where all the super-secret stuff is gonna happen?"

"It's not that cool. I just have to stare at a screen and make sure no one's doing anything bad." Y/N swiveled in his chair with an amused smile. Maybe he should get a plant or two, he thought. Or one of those small fountains that provided bubbling water as background noise.

"Catching bad guys before they do the bad things is pretty cool," Tony said from the doorway, hands sunk in his pockets. "Nice to see you're getting all settled. If there's anything you'd like to add, just tell Friday and we'll get it for you."

"Thanks, Tony." Y/N straightened up, shifting to face the door. A teenage boy stood just behind him, looking like he didn't know what was going on. "Angelica, you remember Tony, right?"

"Hi, Tony!" Angelica sat up, her knees over the armrest. She waved enthusiastically.

"Hey, munchkin. I just came by to introduce one of our team members. He's here over weekends for training. This is Peter Parker. Pete, this is Y/N L/N, our intel specialist." Tony placed his hand on the shoulder of the teenage boy and pulled him forward.

"Hi, Mr. L/N." Peter smiled and waved shyly. He didn't know what to do with his hands after that, moving them to his hips, then clasped them in front of him before folding his arms over his chest and tucking his hands against his chest.

"And that's his daughter, Angelica. You two will get along famously," Tony pointed to Angelica, who rolled backward on the couch and bounced to her feet.

"Which superhero are you?" She asked, straightening out her skirt and using her foot to pull the leg of her leggings down since it had bunched up on her calf.

"I'm...I'm Spiderman," Peter said, lifting his shoulders in a slight shrug. He seemed very nervous like he wasn't sure about meeting them today. Y/N wondered if Tony had just dragged him down to his office without telling him what was happening.

"No way! You used to swing by our apartment like once every week!" Angelica grinned. "That's so cool!"

"Knew it - I called it. Didn't I call it?" Tony pointed between Angelica and Peter before turning his finger to himself. "Anyway, Pete. If you have any intel from in the field or if you need intel, Y/N's your man. It's gonna be great!" He backed out of the room with a smile. "Gonna be great!"

"Is he always like that?" Y/N asked, laughing. Of all the people he'd met so far, Tony was by far the most entertaining. He was unpredictable and had quite the personality.

"Uh, yeah. He's, uh...He's always like that." Peter nodded for a moment too long and the silence became a touch awkward. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Y/N. You, too, Angelica." He held his hand out like he was offering to shake someone else's, but since they were so far away...it didn't quite work.

"Please, just Y/N. It's nice to meet you, Peter. What you do is pretty incredible." Y/N smiled and watched as Peter's shoulders relaxed. He seemed to be an anxious individual around people he didn't know.

"Oh, uh...thank you." Peter's face turned pink and he looked at his feet with a shy smile.

"Hey, kiddo. Don't you have some homework to catch up on?" Y/N turned to his daughter. Getting the attention off of Peter would probably help his nerves.

"Awww, but it's Friday!" Angelica whined, wrinkling her nose up and looking at her father with disdain.

"And you have a week's worth of work to catch up on." Y/N raised his eyebrows in a typical fatherly way. It had been easier to just pull her from school for a week to move everything from their house into the compound and to get used to the new environment.

"Uh, I have some homework, too. We could do it together?" Peter suggested, hooking his thumbs under his backpack straps.

"You wouldn't mind?" Angelica asked, spinning around with a dazzling smile.

"Yeah. It's totally fine. I could use the company while suffering through geometry." Peter wrinkled his nose up in a similar manner, obviously not fond of the subject.

Angelica turned to her father with wide, questioning eyes. She was barely concealing her enthusiasm, beginning to bounce on the balls of her feet again.

"Why are you lookin' at me? You live here and I trust you not to get into trouble." Y/N said with a laugh. "You know the rules."

"Don't terrorize people. Pranks should be harmless. And snitches don't get cookies." Angelica recited, counting on her fingers.

Peter looked between them with amused confusion. "Snitches don't get cookies?"

"Our neighbor, Scott, taught it to her at three years old. It's just been a thing since then." Y/N explained. "Scott's a personal accountant by day and a drag queen by night."

"I'm gonna miss seeing Scott." Angelica looked at her feet sadly. "He always brought the prettiest shoes."

"Nothing against us visiting Irene and Scott from time to time, kiddo. Now, go on. You've got a bunch of homework to do and I know your math teacher gave you a good amount." Y/N gestured with his head for them to go.

Angelica perked up suddenly. "Did you say geometry earlier?"

"Yeah?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

"You should show me some! I'm learning percentages right now, but it's super boring." She took Peter's arm with a grin and pulled him out of the office.

"Have fun and don't be a devil child!" Y/N called after her and she gave him a thumbs-up before passing his office front.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Y/N scrolled through his phone aimlessly, laying on his stomach in bed. He still wasn't used to calling it his, since he'd only been living there for a week. The room was dark because of the late hour, but he wasn't quite ready to sleep. Having a kid didn't mean much time alone to just exist, so he would take every moment he could. Not that he didn't love his daughter, he did, but he needed those few hours alone at night to recharge and relax.

His phone buzzed with a text from a number he didn't recognize.

???: Hey, Ciara. This is Larry. :)

Y/N: I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number. I'm not Ciara.

???: Are you sure this isn't right? This is the number Ciara gave me.

Y/N: Considering I'm a guy and my name is Y/N, yeah. Pretty sure she gave you a random number. Sorry, buddy.

???: Oh...dang. Thanks for being so nice about that.

Y/N: No problem. Have a nice night.

???: You, too.

Y/N deleted the conversation, not worrying about it. It had happened to him before - on both sides - so there really wasn't anything strange about the interaction. He sighed and switched back to Facebook, looking at his feed. A memory popped up and he smiled.

Angelica's first day at school in kindergarten. She was smiling, a gap in her front teeth from losing her first tooth. Her hair was in braided pigtails and she was wearing a dress with a pair of Disney sister characters on the front. My little girl's growing up so fast. Lost her first tooth yesterday, and now she's off to school for the first time.

He remembered that day vividly. She'd been so excited when she came home, talking up a storm about the friends she had made and the things they were learning. When she went to bed that night, she slept like the dead.

The next day, though, was one he really remembered. She was supposed to do a "my family" drawing at school, and a few of the kids had noticed she had only drawn her dad. After saying she didn't have a mom, they'd teased her until the teacher made them stop.

When he picked her up, the only thing she said when he asked how her day went was: Why don't I have a mom? The car ride had been awkwardly silent after that, and he explained it to her over dinner.

I'll always be here for you, though, Angel. I promise. Nothing in the world can take me away from you.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Taglist: @supernaturalwintersoldier @shadowolf993

#mint ice cream & bubblegum kisses #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x male reader #bucky barnes x single dad!reader #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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maybedefinitely404 · 5 years ago

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The Boy who Sings Next Door, Pt 1

Genre: just-out-of-college AU

Pairings: Pre-romantic/romantic Prinxiety, pre-romantic Logicality

Content: general anxiety/allusions to past panic attacks, (it’s Virgil, c’mon), food mentions, a lil yappy puppy, Hamilton songs (it’s Roman, c’mon), just the boys being super gay.

Word count: 2.6k

Comments: I’ve been in a bit of a funk (not the good kind of funk) recently, and this is the only thing I’ve been able to churn out during it. It will have a part two, don’t worry. Gotta get that good Prinxiety content.

Comments (the sequel): This took almost a week to write due to said funk, so I apologize for any inconsistency that appears. I have edited this as much as my brain let me, so it should be good.

Virgil hadn’t lived there for long. In fact, it was just nearing the one month anniversary of the day his two roommates and him had moved into the townhouse complex on the grungier side of town. They were still getting to know the house; the basement Virgil swore was haunted, the crudely attached cabinets that Patton very nearly pulled down every time the shorter man had to climb the counter to reach the top shelf, and especially the upstairs bathroom’s shower that would become scalding hot if someone flushed a toilet while it was running. Janus’ shriek was something Virgil wished he could have recorded on camera.

Meeting his new neighbours was still a fear he had to get over. Patton had already introduced himself to all of them (on the first day living there, with cookies, nonetheless), and was eagerly awaiting the day when Virgil would give the ‘okay’ to invite some of them over for dinner. He was especially excited about the man who lived to their left, a professor at the university across town that Patton claimed he had clicked with.

“A professor? How old is he?”

“He looked like he was our age!”

“A professor who’s twenty two?”

“Well… maybe he’s really smart! Or has a great skincare routine!”

Despite Patton’s obvious infatuations with the guy, Virgil was hesitant to meet him. He’d already had a less than promising accidental run in with the old man living on their right, incited by Janus parking in the wrong spot and poor Virgil being the one to open the door to the screaming neighbor. It had taken him twenty minutes to calm down from that panic attack. But after too many rounds of Patton’s puppy eyes, Virgil gave in.

“Only the one guy though, and I get to have a code word in case I need to leave.”

“Okay! What’s the code word?”

“I don’t know. You pick.”

“Tiddylicious?”

“SHUT THE HELL UP, JANUS!”

Surprisingly, Virgil didn’t have to use the code word (which was not tiddylicious). Logan was a pretty great guy, if slightly lacking in the ‘emoting’ department. Patton and him got on like fire in a library, and his roommates happy wiggles the whole night was probably what gave the anxious man the bravado to stick through it. Janus even had the decency to make some honest conversation, which was a first for him. Logan eventually mentioned the fact that he had a dog, and the conversation immediately derailed into Patton squealing over the pictures he showed him. They took this as the opportunity to sneak away from the two, giving them the space they obviously needed. Gross.

There was a line stretching across Logan’s backyard; a red cable that connected to his deck and reached to the fence on the opposite side. From this cord hung a pink leash, and to this pink leash, Logan attached his dog several times a day. Virgil didn’t know what the signal was for them, but every couple of hours, the sliding door would screech open and the dog would run to the gate closing off the porch, waiting impatiently until Logan clipped on the leash and let it run onto the lawn. The first time the small dog saw Virgil on his phone in the shade of his roof, it immediately took this as a grave act of terrorism and began to yap so loud that Virgil screamed. Logan quickly came back out, explaining that while his pup may have the intimidation factor of a stuffed animal, she thought all the grass of her yard and of the adjoining houses was hers to protect, even if the terrier was just about the size of a decent Thanksgiving turkey. A few head scratches later, and the two decently bonded, enough that she wouldn’t throw a hissy fit every time he sat on his porch.

That’s where he was now, half asleep in a lawn chair with one earbud in, when the tell tale squeak of Logan’s sliding door startled him from his rest. He reached up lazily and popped out his music, smiling slightly at the prospect of another conversation with Logan. Despite their age difference (it wasn’t all that much, but just enough that he got confused stares from the elder when he mentioned the prospect of ‘stealing someone’s kneecaps’), they were starting to become good friends. His hand froze, however, as he heard a voice that was very much not Logan’s coming from the man’s deck.

“Dear Alexander,

I am slow to anger,

But I, tow the line,

As I reckon with the offense of your,

Life on mine.”

And if Virgil said he didn’t immediately feel butterflies at the soft lilting of the deep voice, he would be lying. He shrunk back into his shirt, hoping the other wouldn’t glance over the short bush between them and see his blushing face. Even if he wasn’t infatuated with whoever was letting Logan’s dog out, it wasn’t like him to try and meet someone new.

The screen door shut with a loud whap and the dog pulled at the red cord as hard as she possibly could, trying to get free pets from Virgil. He obliged, but made sure to duck back to his side as soon as the door reopened.

“Raise a glass to freedom,

Something they can never take away,

No matter what they tell you.”

He lurched back into his own house at the sound of that gorgeous voice, slamming the sliding door and consequently scaring the hell out of Patton.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“What’s gotten you in such a hullabaloo?” Patton squinted from his table of crafting supplies, where it looked like he was putting together more pages for his scrapbook.

“I’m gay.”

“Ah,” The older man scrunched his eyebrows together, setting down his glue stick, “For Logan…?”

“No! Logan’s yours, don’t worry,” he ignored Patton’s indignant spluttering and blushing, satisfied that he wasn’t the only disaster gay in the room now, “Someone else is at his house.”

“Someone cute?” He was suddenly very interested in his book, trying to hide his red cheeks.

“I don’t know.”

“Then why are you in gay mode?”

“His voice.”

“His voice?”

“Quit laughing at me!” Virgil snarled non aggressively, refusing to meet Patton’s bright eyes.

“I’m not, I swear!” Patton giggled nonetheless, “It’s cute! I’ll have to hear it for myself sometime.” Virgil huffed, despite his growing smile, and went to his room, too overwhelmed to wait outside for the voice again, no matter how much his heart wanted to.

A couple days later, Patton showed up in his open doorway (it was his attempt to be less antisocial, and it made his housemates happy) grinning like a child who’d just gotten a puppy.

“I just talked to Logan-”

“Oh?” Virgil smirked, closing his laptop in favor of tea.

“Oh, shush. He just said during the summer, he has these fancy shmancy teaching seminars every weekend just out of town.”

“So?”

“Sooo…” Patton wiggled a little, sticking his tongue between his teeth, “When he’s not home, his brother watches Gremmy!”

“Gremmy?”

“How do you not know the puppy’s name? And also, you’re focusing on the wrong part of the sentence! His brother is going to be there every weekend, all summer!”

Virgil tried to digest the butterflies that exploded in his gut, failing to hide his reappearing blush. “So? We don’t even know if he’s our age, or if he’s into guys.”

Patton dropped his gaze, sucking his lips into his mouth in a vain attempt to smother his smile.

“Patton?”

“He’s our age and he’s into guys,” He squeaked.

“You asked?!”

“It came up naturally!”

“How?!”

“Not important!” He was full on beaming now, hopping on his toes. “You should totally talk to him next weekend!”

“No. Nope. Not happening.”

The following Friday, Virgil found himself sitting on his deck under the roof, scrolling aimlessly through Tumblr, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he happened to see a new car pull into Logan’s spot thirty minutes after the man left. Nothing like that at all. He sipped absentmindedly on the lemonade Patton had brought him with a cheeky look on his face, trying not to think about the fact that the angel voiced man was right next door. And his heart absolutely did not begin to pound when the tell tale screeching of the screen door sounded.

This time, music accompanied the man’s singing as he hooked the dog, Gremmy, onto her leash.

“Angelica,

Eliza,

And Peggy,

The Schuyler sisters,

Angelica (Peggy) Eliza (Work!)”

Even if Virgil had only heard his voice once, it seemed fitting that he was trying to sing every part, altering slightly to nail the voice changes of every character. He curled up a little more in his chair as the man followed Gremmy out onto the lawn, music still pumping from his phone.

“Daddy said to be home by sundown,

Daddy doesn’t need to know,

Daddy said not to go downtown,

Like I said, you’re free to go.”

Virgil couldn’t breathe, but that was the heat’s fault. It definitely wasn’t caused by the gorgeous man now dancing in small circles on the grass, dog jumping at his feet as he laughed along to the music. The sudden warmth in his face was caused by the sun, not the toned muscle of the man’s arms, or the way his much too loose muscle tee showed off his tan, or how his light brown hair flopped over his eyes when he bent down to pick up a stick from the ground. All while singing; just carelessly enjoying himself.

“Angelica, remind me what we’re looking for?

(She’s looking for me!)

Eliza, I’m looking for a mind at work (work),

I’m looking for a mind at work (work),

Woah, woah, woah, woah, work!”

The harmonies were too much, his voice flawlessly adding a fourth harmony where there wasn’t in the song. Virgil jumped like a spooked cat, fleeing into the house and drawing the curtains shut hurriedly. He knew the other man had probably heard the door slam, but that wasn’t his main concern right now.

“Gay panic?”

Virgil spun around to see Janus, all too bemused, sipping Gatorade out of a wine glass. The man’s sense of class would not be affected by the time of day. “Gay panic,” He confirmed weakly, sliding down the wall, “He’s hot.”

“Let me see.”

“Janus, no, what are you doing?!”

The taller man pulled the curtain aside, humming under his breath. “Oh yeah, he is hot.”

“Jan, stop!” He hissed, trying to tug Janus’ arm down from the curtain without being seen.

“Oh, he’s waving at me.”

“WHAT?!”

“Can I wave back?”

“NO!”

Janus waved back, kicking Virgil lightly out of sight. “Let go of my sleeve, fucker.”

Virgil did, booking it upstairs as soon as Janus dropped the curtain. He flopped onto his bed with a groan that was almost loud enough to be a shriek, swearing to himself to not go outside for the rest of the weekend. And to kill Janus later. He did leave his window open though, but not because he wanted to keep hearing the snippets of song that floated up to his room every time the sliding glass next door opened. Not at all.

Virgil hated that he ended up counting down the days until Friday, and that he couldn’t tear himself away from the window until he arrived. Responding to his housemates giggles and stares with a quick flip of the bird, he took his usual spot on the deck. Because the weather was nice, and he needs a tan. No other reason. Not that he would say out loud, anyways.

He didn’t have to wait long until the door scratched open and a calm, almost haunting melody reached his ears. He’s singing along to a track again, mixing in harmonies that send shivers up Virgil’s spine.

“I saved every letter you wrote me,

From the moment I read them I knew you were mine,

You said you were mine,

I thought you were- Shit, Gremmy, no, get back here!”

Virgil jolted upright as twenty pounds of fluff landed in his chest, paws digging into his sternum. The dog looked up at him with, dare he say, smug eyes? He ran a hand through the fur on her back, holding her collar with one hand in case she decided to bolt again.

“I am so sorry! She wormed out of the gate before I got the leash on her!”

He looked up from the dog and holy hell oh my god he’s way hotter up close. Never before in his life had he wished for Patton’s bubbliness or Janus’ general aloofness, but now he would rather have any personality trait besides anxious because oh god the hottest guy he’d ever met is staring at him and he has no idea what to say.

“Well, good thing she likes me, or you’d be down a dog.” What the hell was that?

Surprisingly, the other man laughed, folding his arms across his chest. “What, you don’t think I’d be able to catch her?”

“In all honesty, probably not.”

“How dare you!” He gasped, holding a hand to his chest dramatically, “I’ll have you know Gremmy loves me!”

“I’m sure that’s why she booked it as soon as she had the chance.” He extended the dog almost comically, her too short legs waving frantically in his grip. The man took her with a murmur of thanks, giving her a stern look that made Virgil snicker. A part of him was slightly shocked that someone related to Logan could be so… relaxed. The older man seemed held together purely by stress and logic, never without a collared shirt and tie, and he would definitely never be seen in the plain white v-neck this guy was wearing really well.

“So, you’re Logan’s brother?” Where the hell was this courage coming from?!

“Yup. You know him?”

“About as well as I know any of my neighbors. So, barely. But he’s close with my roommate.”

The man’s expression turned to glee as he shifted the dog in his arms. She seemed unhappy being held when there were birds to be chased, but her struggle was lazy. “Patton, right? I’ve heard a lot about him.”

“Oh?”

He hummed happily, fiddling with Gremmy’s collar. “It’s about time Logan found someone who makes him happy. We never really understood each other when it comes to interacting with other people. He’s more secluded nerd, and I’m more…” He trailed off, waving his fingers under the dog cluelessly.

“More theatre nerd?” Virgil guessed, pleased with the way the man’s eyebrows flew up.

“How’d you guess that?”

“You’ve been singing a different Hamilton song every time you’ve taken the dog out.”

Instead of looking embarrassed or upset like Virgil would definitely be in his situation, he seemed to puff up more, almost delighted.

“Ah, I thought I had an audience! That was you?”

Virgil could feel his face turning beet red, much to his chagrin. This was it, this was the moment he died. Let the earth open up and swallow him whole, his little pride had been too wounded to continue. The man took his silence as answer enough, seemingly pleased with the reaction.

“I’m Roman,” The man grinned, holding out his hand. He took it hesitantly, the touch sending a shock up his spine that he was barely able to suppress.

“Virgil.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Virgil.”

He couldn’t help the authentic smile that tugged on his lips as they shook hands, Gremmy dangling from Roman’s other arm like a football.

“You too, Roman.”

#lywrites #sanderssides #sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #hamilton #sanderssidesfanfiction

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i-do-trash-fanfictions · 4 years ago

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Character Creation: Ann

(I may do one for Zane-2 and Sora if I have the time)

Guardians name: Angelica Arden

Age: When she died in her past life she was only 17. She has been a Guardian for 1 year.

Race: Human

Pronouns: She/her

Class: Hunter

Preferred subclass(es): Arcstrider and also Stasis

Ghost's name: Poppy

Do they prefer being close, mid, or long range: It doesn’t matter to her, though she’s really good at long range.

Do they lean more "Element of Surprise" or "Upfront and Aggressive": She likes “Element of Surprise” more.

Strikes, Gambit, or Crucible: Crucible.

Who was their mentor(if they had one. If it is a character you created, tell us about them!): Thera, the Young Wolf, Hero of the Red War, and more.

Favorite shader: Anything with bright colors. Especially light blues.

Favorite color: Blue, light blue specifically.

Favorite food: Pizza

Favorite Pre-Collapse music(if they've heard any): Like Thera, she enjoys classic rock and oldies music. But she also likes our modern day pop music some too.

Favorite place in The Last City(if it's a place you created, give a little description!): The place where the children play. She goes out there with Shaxx every week on Wednesdays to hang out with them.

Favorite NPC(s): Crow, Shaxx, Saint-14, Shaw Han, Amanda

Favorite patrol location: Anywhere on Nessus

5 things your Guardian likes(can be anything): Art, spicy foods, ship racing, music, and movies like Footloose.

Least favorite food: Potatoes

Least favorite NPC(s): Spider

5 things your Guardian dislikes(this can be anything): Paperwork, being alone for too long, staying in the Tower for too long and not going anywhere for more than a day, drawing hands, and trying to get the eyes to line up on her art.

Your Guardian has to rest. What is their living space like: Ann’s room is cluttered. There’s a lot of sketchbook and pens, pencils, and more everywhere. It’s a lot smaller than Thera’s room, and the bathroom is really small too. She has a small shelf that hangs on the wall where she keeps a few interesting romance books that she likes, and sketchbooks. She also has a decent sized desk, and a easel with canvases in one side of the room.

Does your Guardian have any casual wear?(Y'all remember Polyvore? The website URSTYLE works very similar if that helps!): When Ann isn’t going out, she likes to wear a hoodie and sweatpants, but when she goes out, she’ll wear a tanktop or t-shirt, with comfy pants and tennis shoes.

What hobbies and/or skills does you Guardian have: Angelica’s really good at any kind of art. Painting, pencil, you name it, she can do it.

What would your Guardian's lore book be called: The Wolf’s Apprentice

Where was your Guardian reborn?(If you created the location, give us a little description!): Like Thera, she was reborn in the Cosmodrome. Her body, a skeleton, had been in the back of one of the many rusted cars.

What were they wearing when they were reborn: A tight tank top, light blue colored jeans, and tennis shoes.

What was their reaction to being reborn: She had stopped and instead of going into the Cosmodrome, she turned and looked out over the nearby cliff, enjoying being alive again in that very moment.

What was their reaction to their first rez: Ann found it really weird but also really cool, besides the slight nausea.

After being reborn, did they meet friendlies first or hostiles: She met hostiles first. Fallen.

Who was the first other Guardian they met?(Same thing! If you made them, give a little description!): Shaw Han.

Did your Guardian get reborn with, or find, any indication of their past life? If so what do they have/found: She, like Thera, also remembered only her name. But a good number of weeks after she had been a Guardian for a while, she got a dream about the car she was rezzed in. She believed that there would be hints of her past life in the car, that she hadn’t thought to look for after she had just been rezzed. Ann told Thera, and the two headed there. She found a shoebox under the car seat which had her full name. Angelica Arden, written on the top. Also, inside she found bits and pieces of who she used to be, including a photo of her parents.

Going back to your Guardian's lore book, what would be some some quotes or passages from their book: Ann would constantly be referencing the fact that Thera, the Young Wolf, was her best friend. Honestly, the lore book would probably be filled with a bunch of adventures Thera and Ann have had.

Does your Guardian have a significant other: No, but it is evident that she likes Shaw Han, and that he likes her.

Did your Guardian go explore first before going to The Last City? If so, where to: She was actually the Guardian who helped out Shaw Han and killed Navota, which is why the two are so close. I decided that it wouldn’t make sense for Thera to be the one to do that deed, since it didn’t really fit, but that it instead made sense for Ann to be the one to kill Navota.

What was their reaction to first seeing The Last City: Ann was shy upon reaching there, but wanted to see everything. She was really excited. It was then she met Thera, since her Ghost, Poppy was friends with Thera’s Ghost, Scout. Poppy had gone and found the two, and Thera offered to help show Ann around.

Is your Guardian a part of a clan: No.

If your Guardian would have a quote as a flavor text for a weapon and/or piece of armor, what would they be: “Listen, as Thera once said, ‘Jump around, shoot, and don’t die. Those are the basics.’.”

If your Guardian has had any interactions with any civilians (The Last City/The Farm), Eliksni, Cabal, Vex, Hive, Taken, Scorn, Rouge Lightbearers, or Iron Lords/War Lords(if your Guardian is an Old Light) tell us about it!: Ann doesn’t have many friends who aren’t Guardians, so there really isn’t too much to tell. But there was one Rouge lightbearer who I forgot to mention in Thera’s character creation. She went by Rouge, and refused to show her face or tell her real name. Thera had taken Ann with her to meet Rouge, and Rouge had asked Ann a number of questions to see if she could trust her.

Does your Guardian have any unconventional allies or connections(By Vanguard standards): Besides the Rouge, that’s about it. And I suppose the Drifter.

How does your Guardian feel about themselves or others using Stasis: Ann finds Stasis fun to play with, but listens to Thera’s warnings that she shouldn’t use it all the time. (She knows how to make snowcones with it.)

Where did they go and what did they do during The Red War: She wasn’t alive when the Red War happened.

Here are some characters that are either polarizing or have created a strong enough mass emotion within the community. What opinion does your Guardian hold on each of them(These are only a handful of characters!)>>>

Osiris, First Warlock Vanguard, originally exiled: She thinks he’s filled with wisdom and likes listening to what he has to say.

Eris Morn, Bane of the Swarm: Eris actually kind of spooks Ann. She’s just intimidating.

Cayde-6, Sixth Hunter Vanguard: Never got a chance to meet him, but has heard great things about him.

Ikora Rey, Second Warlock Vanguard: Ann also looks up to Ikora, and when Thera doesn’t have the answer, she’ll go to Ikora next.

Commander Zavala, Second Titan Vanguard: Ann tries to do nice things for Zavala here and there because she knows he’s under a lot of stress. She greatly respects him.

Saint-14, legendary Titan, First Titan Vanguard: When Ann doesn’t have anything else to do, she’ll go to the Hangar and talk with him while feeding the pigeons.

Lord Saladin, Iron Banner handler, One of the last remaining Iron Lords: She treats him with respect, but doesn’t understand him. He’s also slightly intimidating to her.

Lord Shaxx, Crucible handler, Hero of Twilight Gap, living megaphone: He’s a good friend of hers, and she will occasionally go to talk with him when Thera isn’t around. Sometimes she’ll even help him be an announcer in the Crucible.

The Crow, New Light, Ex-Enforcer to The Spider: She likes him and is good friends with him. She’s one of only two that know he’s Thera’s boyfriend, and will constantly go to tell him what she thinks he should do for a date, or how Thera’s feeling, or what he should buy her for a gift.

The Spider, The Shore's Only Law, founder of "House" Spider: She hates him because of what he did to Crow and Glint.

The Exo Stranger/Elizabeth "Elsie" Bray, Granddaughter of Clovis I and Sister to Ana Bray: She sees her as someone she should greatly respect.

Empress Caiatl of the Cabal Imperial Empire: Angelica is deathly terrified of her.

And finally, does your Guardian have any advice for any New Lights: “Hey, I know Thera looks intimidating, but don’t be afraid to ask her anything or go up and talk to her. She really doesn’t mind.”

#destiny 2 #destiny #destiny guardians #destiny game #destiny oc

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twoidiotwriters1 · 5 years ago

Text

Starcrossed Losers XV (Josh Wheeler xReader)

A/N: My eyes hurt from editing this thing so late at night, please enjoy

Words: 4,700

Warnings: None!

Previous chapter // Next chapter

What’s up, I’m officially fucked.

I don’t know how to narrate everything as it went down, I don’t have superpowers and I didn’t see it from above, also I was too busy trying to not self combust while Josh was kissing me.

I’m stupid. You knew that don’t pretend this came as a surprise, I’m dumb. I gave up my last braincell for my overalls, I have nothing left.

That’s not important right now, I’ll go back to tell you the story, just be warned: Things don’t get prettier.

So Josh just kissed me, I’m standing there avoiding physical contact until a voice inside my head (one that sounds a lot like Wesley) screams to me: MAKE YOUR MOVE!

I pull him down by the collar of his shirt and close my eyes tightly, kissing him back. All I can think right now is “Please, don’t regret this after it’s over” and I mean it for both of us.

The problem is that I suffer a little bit of post-traumatic stress, so when He kissed my mind went: ‘Oh fuck he just did the same thing that Alex did, what if he doesn’t feel good after, what about me? How am I feeling?’

The answer is: I’m terrified. I feel so many things, great things, beautiful things, but I’m scared shitless.

After he steps back, eyeing me up like he’s waiting for a reaction.

I’m trying to collect myself. I’m panicking, What the fuck did just happened?

“Shit,” It’s the first thing that Josh says.

I keep my eyes closed, I feel that I will start crying if I look at him. It won’t be a sad cry, it’s more like I’m so scared of what I’m feeling right now I regret every decision I’ve ever taken. I don’t wanna hurt Josh by saying something I don’t mean just cause I’m scared, my whole body is shaking and I’m so cold that I’m not even blushing, I can’t move.

“Y/N?” Josh takes another step back, I hear him a bit further away than before, “Are you... are you okay?”

I take a deep breath, I have to be brave. I slowly open my eyes but keep them fixed on the ground where Josh is standing, all I can see it’s his shoes.

“I’m fine,” I rasp, “... I could use a moment to calm down”

“I blew it,” Josh’s feet move, walking in circles, “Y/N I’m sorry, I’m so sorry please don’t get mad, I did it without thinking. I mean I was thinking but fuck I just wanted to kiss you, I-”

“Josh,” I speak up, closing my eyes again and holding the bridge of my nose, ‘Please don’t say you regret it. Don’t say you don’t have feelings for me’, “you don’t get it”

His footsteps come into a halt.

“Then explain it to me,” He says softly.

“I-”

“Y/N! Josh!” I look up and I meet Angelica’s glare, “Don’t fucking disappear like that!”

“Sorry, An,” I apologize, walking over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder for comfort, “we’re making sure the limits of the mall are safe again, you know, from bombs or something”

“They didn’t put things, they took them,” She says, fuming, “you need to come back inside right now”

“Okay,” I frown.

“We’re right behind you,” Josh is standing next to me. I feel a shiver run down my spine.

Angelica nods and goes back to the mall without even noticing how stiff Josh and I look. I turn to him, still not able to look at him in the eyes.

“I’m not upset... many things happened tonight and I think we should take care of that first. Don’t you?”

“Totally, I agree” Josh replies, I know he’s lying.

“Let’s go back,” I mumble, walking away.

Okay, then Josh likes me and I like him back. Why am I scared?

I’m scared cause this takes my freedom away, if I take it all in that means I’ll stay with Josh, cause I like him. There are things that I’ll never be able to change, if I start something with Josh I’ll do everything to make him happy. Everything.

My loyalty scares me.

I have to learn how to control that part of me, to not give myself away so easily. What if he tries and fails to be a better man? I’ll be in love with an asshole, I’ll be blind to his acts.

Or... maybe I won’t.

Josh doesn’t try to follow me when we enter the mall, he goes to the mattress store and says something about changing his clothes. I do the same.

I feel safe with my overalls back on, instead of my lime-green skates I put on the baby-blue sneakers, and since it’s still late and I’m freezing I look around for a jacket, I find a black hoodie. I think it’s a man’s hoodie since it reaches my butt and the sleeves are gigantic. It makes me feel safe though, so I keep it.

My hair feels odd so I tie it and then make my way back to the main hall. Most of the kids are there, picking up some things and sharing sad looks of weariness.

“Y/N?” I look to my left, a girl that I think it’s Leila approaches me, she has a deep cut above her eyebrow, “Can you help me?”

“Sure,” I give her a small smile, “let me find Alex and I’ll meet you back in the pharmacy, okay?”

She nods and walks away, I feel a different kind of fear as I watch her go. These kids are sort of our responsibility now, all of them. They almost died because of some stupid beef Turbo has with Wesley and Josh, that’s not right.

Did we save these kids, or did we just turn them into Turbo’s next target?

I find Alex already in the pharmacy, he’s curing kids, still wearing his suit. When he notices me I see relief in his eyes, maybe he thought that I had been taken. Either way, I’m here and ready to help.

Leila appears soon after, I ask her to sit on the bench in front of me and I start to clean her cut.

“Are you alright, Al?” I ask while looking for bandaids.

“I could ask you the same thing,” He replies, finishing up with a kid and waiting for the next to sit, “How’s your hand?”

“Not that bad,” I’m honest this time, it’s not hurting as much as the side of my head Maya so kindly stepped on, “I didn’t get to use it much”

“I’m fine,” Ales shrugs, “a few bruises but nothing I can’t handle.”

“You should change, we’ll be here for a while,” I tilt my head, watching as most of the kids form a line, all to get their wounds treated.

“I’m not uncomfortable”

“You’ll be, eventually,” I give him a severe look, “c’mon, I can handle this on my own for a while, the kids won’t go anywhere... I won’t go anywhere”

“...Okay,” He sighs, nodding towards the boy in front of him to let him know he’s done curing his cuts, “I’ll be back soon”

“Sweet,” I respond without paying much attention.

The line moves slowly as I clean and take care of cuts, bruises, and even a few broken fingers. Those were tricky, luckily Alex came back and used his boy scout skills to make several splints. That took us most of the night. Once we were done I saw Alex’s intentions of asking me if I had taken a decision so I escaped with the excuse of counting our supplies things that were lost. I did the same with the people.

I finished the list and handed it to Angelica.

The final result was this:

They took our food and water, along with Jayden, girl Jaden, Gabriel, Zoey, Carly, other gay Josh, and Jayden. Angelica said she would go tell Josh so I decided to go over to where Eli and Wesley are and have a chat with them before things get uglier.

“I don’t think you understand exactly how much you just fucked our group,” I say as soon as I get to them.

“No no, I don’t think you understand how fucking dumb locking us up is,” Eli retorts, “We were just trying to protect the kids”

“By killing a guy?” I scoff, “That’s not fair to Josh”

“Who cares?” He asks, “Josh never did shit for us, did he? I had the mall first! He didn’t find them a home, he just took it from me”

“You’re still not over that?” I roll my eyes, “You almost kill Josh over the stupid mall? Seriously?”

“No. I almost kill Josh because that was the right thing to do, considering that Turbo has the strong, fully armed tribe”

“You have no morals. Who cares if Turbo had all that? He still lost, you know. We wouldn’t have had to fight if Wesley had spoken earlier,” I look over at Wesley, who is deadly quiet, “Josh would’ve understood. He would’ve helped you find a solution.”

“Josh being nice to you doesn’t mean he’s like that with everybody,” He replies indifferent, “maybe he would’ve tried to help me, but this wasn’t his problem, it was mine”

“When Sam was missing it was only Josh’s problem and you helped him find her”

Wesley shifts uncomfortably in his place, not looking at me.

“Y/N, You don’t get it.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” I say harshly, “I thought you had changed, Wesley. I was wrong, you’re still backing up the wrong people. And Eli,” I look at the boy, sincere hurt spreading on my chest, “I voted for you, you know? I never forgot it was you who got the mall first, I was thankful for that”

Eli avoids my stare, he maintains his attitude of not giving a shit, but I notice that his fists are tightly closed.

Angelica’s voice gets closer and I turn around to see her with Josh beside her. He looks terrible, I just hope is not my fault.

“Don’t blame us,” Eli interrupts their chat, “we tried murdelizing Josh so this wouldn’t happen”

“That’s a confession,” Says the girl that I think it’s Jessica.

“I didn’t say blit,” Eli frowns.

“You said you tried to kill Josh,” Angelica adds.

“Not what I said”

“It is”

“The you misheard me”

“I recorded it”

As they argue I keep my eyes fixed on them until Josh’s stare is impossible to ignore. I turn to him with my voice caught in my throat, unable to say anything, a joke, or a comforting phrase. Josh is frowning but is more a worried frown than an angry one.

He probably has a lot in his head right now, disappointed that things aren’t going how he wanted. Well Wheeler, that’s another thing we have in common.

“If you’re looking for bad hombres then look around,” Eli’s voice brings me back and makes me look away from Josh, “these kids are here illegally. They didn’t come through an authorized port of entry. They didn’t apply for asylum. This is an invasion”

“You are so not helping yourself right now,” I reply, stepping closer to him as Josh steps away to see Wesley, “these kids could save your ass from being kicked out”

“You can’t kick me out of MY mall!” He defends.

“The mall is not yours only!” I exclaim, “We all deserve to be here!”

“You didn’t put all the safety traps, I did. You didn’t make sure everything was still working when the nuke dropped. I did,” He leans closer, “I have the right to stay”

What upsets me the most is that he has a point, we kind of invade his place. Although it’s big enough for all of us and he should be less whiny about it, he did make all the hard work for us.

“I trusted you,” Josh speaks behind me, “we were friends”

“You know how you’d do anything for Sam Dean or Y/N?” Wesley asks, “I get that”

I try to ignore the fact that he added me into the question like I’m on the same level as Sam, like Josh is that interested in me. Right now it causes me nothing but distress.

“It’s just,” He continues, “you don’t know Turbo the way I do”

“What else have you lied to me about?” Josh asks bitterly.

Something weird happens, it’s brief but I notice. Wesley looks at Angelica and I see her flinch, she steps in to interrupt them.

They’re hiding something.

“We should make sure Triumph is still locked up,” She says, “I’ll go check”

“Alright,” Josh mumbles.

“You can’t go alone,” I interrupt, “I’ll go with you”

“No, we need you here,” She shakes her head, then leaves without waiting for a response.

“Who?” I ask in confusion.

“What are we gonna do about them?” Asks Jessica.

“Why are you asking this dope?” Eli sneers, “Josh is such a wuss, his cock dropped off, hitchhiked to San Diego and is now getting his realtor’s license, all just to get away from Josh”

“Sometimes I wonder how were you so smart to put all those traps when all that comes from your mouth is so disgustingly stupid,” I say tiredly.

Josh gives him one exasperated look before turning back to Jessica.

“Why are you asking me?”

“I was asking to the both of you,” Jessica says, now looking at me as well, “we trust you”

Josh and I share the same startled look, he’s the first one to react.

“I don’t know what to do about these assholes,” He half-laughs, “look I’m not a judge or a lawyer. I’m just a kid, same as Turbo except... Turbo’s a spoiled brat who throws temper tantrums.”

“I still can’t believe he did all of this just cause he had a jealous fit,” I cross my arms, “he hurt innocent kids cause he thought Wesley was cheating, what kind of sick idiot does that?”

“He is never gonna leave me or us alone,” He looks back at me, “I don’t know if you saw her, but Maya was with him too. She’ll do anything to get back at you”

“I know,” I nod, feeling my mouth dry, “she tried to kill me last night, if it wasn’t for Alex...”

“I know,” Now he’s the one avoiding my eyes, “I don’t know how, but we need to take him out for good”

“Tyler told me Turbo got hurt by one of his weapons,” I reply, “that means we are not the only ones trying to get rid of him”

“What are you suggesting?” Jessica asks.

“I... I don’t know,” I’m frustrated with all these roads that take us nowhere, “we could look for a way to reach the right person, talk to them and convinced them to help... I just don’t know how or who”

“What about Wesley and Eli?”

“I think...” I look over my shoulder to see my former friends.

I know I don’t have the courage to kick them out, not after Wesley got the medicines I needed to cure Josh and Eli’s right about how he arrived at the mall first.

“I think we have enough problems, better to lock them here instead of kicking them out. Keep your enemies close, right?”

I hear a few whispers of agreement and I feel a wave of relief washing over me. One less thing to worry about.

“Jessica, could you stay and keep an eye on them?” I ask, “I’ll send Alex your way in a moment with food for them and more indications”

“Okay,” She nods, sitting in front of the store.

The rest of the kids scatter and I’m left with Josh, who is back with the intense stare. I feel calm enough to talk now. I’m still afraid, but it’s better if I also fix this once and for all.

“Can we talk?” I turn to him suddenly, making him jump.

“Yes,” He replies, quickly taking my good hand and walking to where the storage elevator is.

Once we’re there he lets go of my hand and stands as far as he can, I get the message that he thinks that I’m mad, or maybe he’s the one who’s mad.

“Listen I-”

“I don’t want-”

We speak at the same time and we stop, waiting for the other to start again, then I nod to him so he can speak first. Josh takes a deep breath.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you without asking first,” He says, “I let my emotions take over me again and before I knew it I was kissing you. I’ll understand if you want to stay away from me for a while, or if you want to go somewhere else with Alex.”

He’s not looking at me and his arms are crossed. He’s defensive because he thinks I’ll reject him.

I don’t know if I’m going to reject him.

“Things are complicated,” I nod, “not only between us, is complicated outside too. Turbo wants your head and Maya wants mine, they’re working together against us. If you really think about it the kiss is the least of our problems”

I try to make him laugh but I fail miserably. Josh is really upset about this whole incident.

“It’s the only thing that I really care about,” He replies, “Y/N when I met you things were different and we wanted different things, we didn’t mean to stay. Things happened and we started talking and... maybe I changed my mind”

“What do you mean?” I say, though I definitely know the answer.

“I like you,” He looks up, “really like you. I like being around you, I feel like I have someone that gets me and I get you. Things just seem... easy”

I feel weird, I could hug him forever but also I’m about to have a breakdown.

“How long have you felt this way?” I say with a shaky breath.

“Long enough to know is real,” Josh shrugs, “I was going to ask you to the dance and all... but Alex did it first.”

Before I can reply, Josh starts rambling.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this when I know you don’t like me, it’s stupid. Alex is here now and all I’m doing is making you uncomfortable. You were being a good friend and I was stupid enough to think that maybe there was something going on between us-”

“You’re right,” I interrupt him, “I mean, you’re wrong about me not liking you. You’re right about the something between us.”

“What?” His arms fall to his sides.

“I have a massive crush on you, Josh.”

Saying it outside my head is weird, this is the first time I’ve ever confessed directly to a boy. It took me a while but I’m doing it... now what?

“You do?” He frowns.

“I was already into you when you recovered from your severed finger,” I chuckle nervously, “and I chose that stupid song for the soundtrack of our lives cause it made me think of us”

“It did?” Josh’s brain has short-circuited, considering he’s only capable of saying two words every time he opens his mouth.

“It’s cheesy” I shrug, “I thought that you’d understand what I was trying to say but I guess I was being too cryptid. Who could’ve guessed that anyway? I was just being dramatic. My head is too full of fanfic crap”

“I...” Josh struggles to find words, I’ve noticed that happens when he’s under a lot of stress, “wait, give me a minute”

“Alright,” I move closer, “don’t pass out right now, we’re in the middle of something here”

“Yeah, I know sorry” He bends over to support his hands on his knees, “I’m just trying to understand how am I such an idiot”

“I was oblivious too,” I add, trying to calm him down.

“I thought you and Alex were dating now”

“But I told you we were just friends,” I giggle.

I’m obviously so nervous that I’m about to pee my overalls.

...That’s something I never thought I would say.

“You went to the dance with him and got matching outfits. Who does that?” He inquires, “I thought that maybe after everything that happened you decided to give him a second chance"

“Holy shit,” I gasp, “Alex and I love being dramatic, the matching outfits is something common between us... this is our second chance, Josh. Alex and I are giving our friendship a second chance”

“So... you’re not dating him?”

“I am not”

“But when I kissed you...”

I know it’s the worst time to think about the soundtrack of my life, but at the back of my head, I keep hearing the chorus of this one, product of our bizarre conversation.

“I kissed you back,” I admit, suddenly our mutual anxiety makes this conversation easier, “you know how I feel about being tied to someplace, or someone, if I’m being honest I got scared, I felt all these things and I don’t know how to deal with them. Worse yet, I didn’t know how you would react after. Alex told me he knew he didn’t like me after he kissed me, you did the same thing so I was afraid because...”

“I know I'll stay, I know I'll stay Right there with you...”

“That I would realize I’m not into you?” I look away, he steps closer and then his fingertips touch my skin, “Y/N, when I kissed you I felt a lot of things. All of them were positive.”

“That’s good to hear,” I reply in a high-pitched voice.

“You’re still scared about what could happen if we... you know, if we start something?” Josh asks me, I feel his hand moving from my wrist to my shoulder.

“If I don't know The wind will carry me So just hold tight”

“I don’t know,” I look down to his lips and then back up at his eyes.

“Okay, here’s a thought,” He says lowly, “What if we just don’t think about it? What if we just... do it”

I have few seconds to respond to that, I use them hurriedly, forcing something out of my mouth.

“It sounds difficult,” I feel my heart thumping against my ribcage, “but I’m kind of tired of boys stealing kisses from me and never coming back”

“It’s your choice,” His breathing is slow, his hand is softly touching my cheek, moving little hairs away from my face “whatever you want, I’ll follow”

We hear rushed steps towards us and I jump back. I was supposed to send Alex to Jessica.

“Fuck, I have to send Alex with Jessica,” I pass a hand over my face, trying to get rid of the fuzzy feeling in my brain.

Angelica and Crumble appear, they’re on their way to see Triumph.

“Hi losers,” Angelica watches us carefully, “were you making out in here?”

“Get out of here,” Josh huffs, I can see him blushing.

“I was just asking,” Angelica rolls her eyes, “see ya in a bit, Crumble is coming with me”

“Be careful,” I reply.

They walk out and Josh and I share a look. The moment is hella ruined, yet there’s this buzzing feeling around us, one that the experts would call: Sexual Tension.

“We should go back,” I mumble, pointing over my shoulder with my thumb.

“Yeah,” Josh sighs, then he walks past me and smiles briefly.

I smile back.

I don’t know what’s going on inside my body but sure is something big, I don’t even feel like I have organs in there anymore. More like a mush of melted butterflies... that does not sound nice at all. I’m so sorry. I was trying to explain with other words that I’m freaking out.

Not relevant! The point is... I think Josh and I are almost a... couple?

I won’t put a label on it yet, I’ll just wait and see what happens from here.

And what happens from here will surprise you! Click on the next page to find out.

...

Bad joke? I’m sorry, I do awful jokes when I’m nervous.

I go over to Alex and tell him he needs to stay and watch over Wesley and Eli while we find a way to fix this. My indications come with a list of four kids that will take turns with him so they can take long breaks. It has my signature at the bottom, so they know he’s not making things up. Then he asks me about Josh.

“I talked to him but I don’t actually know if something will happen between us”

“But?” He smiles, “C’mon! I know that face, something happened”

“He kissed me last night,” I cut him off before he starts screaming, “We aren’t together! I think we’re not. It’s complicated.”

“You will be,” He smirks, “it’s just a matter of time, I can see it. There’s no way he won’t fall in love with you”

“Shut up, nerd.”

“Fair enough,” He shrugs, “mark my words though”

“Go with Jessica.”

“Fine. See ya,” Alex looks over my shoulder and his smile grows, “enjoy your date”

“My what?” I frown, turning around I see Josh walking up to me. I roll my eyes, “Alex for fuck’s sake...”

He’s gone now, so he doesn’t hear me. Josh stops in front of me and puts his skateboard on the table on my right.

“Is it broken?” I ask, leaning closer to examine it.

Josh shakes his head.

“I’m just restoring a few parts”

“How long have you had it?”

“Since the nuke, about... Seven months?”

“I see,” I settle with just standing there next to him. It’s enough, I don’t even feel awkward about it.

I should though, I’m staring at him like a creep. Luckily he doesn’t seem to mind and starts to make small talk. We chat casually and act like nothing’s changed.

My brain doesn’t agree with us since its screaming “KISS HIM! KISS HIM! I LOVE HIS FACE!”

It’s embarrassing and I’m glad he can’t read minds.

You can read mine though, so uh, I’m sorry for that.

KJ appears beside us, I see her struggle with something and I’m about to ask what’s wrong when she speaks. In English.

“You’re right. Turbo needs to go.”

I look at her with wide eyes, Josh looks up, slowly realizing who is talking to him.

“And now it’s the perfect time to do it. When he’s injured, hit by an arrow during the battle,” She speaks quickly, like she doesn’t want the rest of the kids to hear her, “Unfortunately, these mall kids are pure priss. They’re not even the kids who got picked last kickball. No, these are the kids who had a doctor’s note to get out of gym because they’re allergic to dander”

Josh takes a second to process what’s happening, then he asks:

“You speak English?”

��We are in America,” KJ replies matter of factly.

“English?” He replies, raising his voice.

“Josh!” I exclaim, looking around.

“You knew this?” He looks over at me, utterly confused.

“Yes?” I say nervously, “She didn’t want anyone to know so I kept it a secret...”

“That was nice of you,” KJ smiles politely, then looks back at Josh, “we all do what we need to survive. Suburban whities ignore anyone who doesn’t look and sound like you. People say anything around me because they think I don’t understand shit and that nets me information”

“That’s better than hiding in giant trash containers,” I agree.

“What?” Josh looks over at me.

“That’s how I used to spy on people.”

“Intel is the only currency that anyone can trade on,” KJ continues, ignoring my comment, “You wanna take out Turbo? You need a tribe with skills”

Josh stares at her for a few seconds.

“English?” He asks again, loudly.

KJ sighs heavily and rolls her eyes. I grab him by the arm and pull him with me, then I put my other hand on KJ’s shoulder and take them to a more private area.

“This will take a while...”

Taglist.

@letsbloodmagic @slythermyg @loving-u-3000

#twoidiots writing #daybreak fanfic #eli cardashyan #daybreak #josh wheeler xreader #josh wheeler #ms crumble #kj karen jane #wesley fists #angelica green

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bowlegsandbiceps · 4 years ago

Text

Top 10 Favourite Characters

I was tagged by @not-a-natural-born-idjit and then flailed because they’re one of my absolute fave writers! (Seriously go to AO3 and read everything right now)

Rules: list your favorite character from 10 different fandoms and tag 10 people

1. Castiel | Supernatural I know I flail a lot about Dean and I love Dean’s face but Castiel is my #1. He’s fierce and brave and impatient and selfless. I don’t know how a being that’s been around for millenia can be innocent but he is. I like how messy he is, and he can be such an effective antagonist without being the big bad. Any friction he has with The Winchesters is from disagreeing on the right course of action and as viewers we can decide who to side with because both are inherently good. It’s their decisions that cause problems and that is a much more compelling narrative than “this thing is just evil.” I ship him with Dean (duh) but also Sam occasionally and I’d honestly love to see some Cas/Rowena action.

2. Hannibal Lecter | NBC Hannibal/Hannibal-verse Long before NBC decided to grace us with the absolute masterpiece that is Hannibal, I have loved this character. I think I was 14 or 15 when I fell down the Thomas Harris rabbit hole and I’ve yet to find a more perfectly crafted psychopath. He’s so refined that you really can believe that no one would suspect him of being the Chesapeake Ripper. His crimes are heinous and many without feeling sensationalized. Harris was originally a crime reporter which I think gave him the ability to ground Hannibal in reality. I really liked how the TV show fleshed out the main points that in the books Clarice Starling and Will Graham continually have to remind people of which is that he does these things to amuse himself. It was really amazing to watch him set up the dominos and then stand back to let everyone else knock them all down. I ship him with Clarice or Alaina mainly but I LOVE me some murder!husbands. It’s the slowest of burns and I will bask in those flames forever.

3. Malcolm Bright | Prodigal Son First of all Tom Payne okay. Second of all, poor, sweet damaged Malcolm. I really like that he has that rich kid air about him but it’s super subtle. He’s obviously very damaged by his father (Martin Whitley is a good example of one of those over the top “legendary” killer characters, though Michael Sheen’s performance REALLY goes a long way to making that believable) and the show doesn’t make his mental illness the forefront of his character. Malcolm works and visits his family and occasionally dates very similarly to any other main character but he’s doing all these things with severe PTSD, anxiety and depression. He’s always portrayed as upbeat and determined to push through any handicaps his mental health issues might cause. There are also times when he can’t and those are shown not by concerned family and friends banding together to throw him in a treatment center but it’s usually him, white-knuckling through it or attempting to work it out on his own which is another extremely realistic portrayal of how people deal with trauma and depression. I ship him with OFC because he and Dani have ZERO chemistry (I’m sorry Brightwell people). I like the IDEA of him and Edrissa but no one is writing it and I can’t even really get MY head around how to write it so I feel this serious urge to PUT HIM WITH SOMEBODY but there’s not been anyone on the show I’ve seen him have real chemistry with yet.

4. Tyrion Lannister | Game of Thrones I love Tyrion so much. I love him so much I named my cat after him. I loved him so much that I lived in CONSTANT. FEAR. that GRRM was going to kill him off at any moment. I like that despite everyone always thinking the worst of him he still does his best and not even with any intention of proving anyone wrong. He plays into their expectations with the booze and women but deep down he’s got a drive to be fair and especially kind to anyone who’s on the receiving end of pain and humiliation that are undeserved. He’s also fierce and clever enough to deliver crushing judgement and justice when deserved whether its through setting the wheels in motion or wielding the crossbow himself. I ship him with Sansa, shut up I know I just love the idea of them growing to love each other despite the rocky start.

5. Hermione Granger | Harry Potter HP was my first real brush with fandom. Like I’d been a Justin Timberlake fangirl since I was 12 and despite his level of fame the fandom was very small. When I started the series at 17 the breadth of content available was staggering. You could literally find ANY combination of ships you could fathom and it all ran the gamut from fluffy to downright depraved. I also find it interesting that while I like Hermione as a character in the books/movies she is far from my favorite character but she’s literally the only character I stan in the fanfic world of HP. I mainly shipped Hermione with Draco or Snape (forgive me I know it was a simpler time where we ignored everything problematic with certain kinks and narratives) and sometimes Harry. She’s such a strong female character that no matter who you pair her with the dynamic is going to be different and complex.

6. Peeta Mellark | The Hunger Games While I relate to Katniss on a very personal level, the boy with the bread absolutely fuels my little fangirl heart. The pining from a young age. The complete disregard for his own safety or survival in the games. Selfless and just good to the core, his subsequent torture by the Capitol and Katniss’ carelessness with his feelings is like taking blow after blow. And when they strip his loyalty to Katniss and his district away it’s even more tragic because he was just this sweet kid who had a crush. UGH feels. I ship him with Katniss. I just really can’t see him with anyone else.

7. Alexander Hamilton | Hamilton THIS was one where i just identify SO. HARD. with Hamilton. While I definitely didn’t endure a childhood like his, I did end up transitioning from a blue collar upbringing to a white collar career and experience the same chip on my shoulder and drive to prove myself. And I too write like I am running out of time. I ship him with his wife or maybe Angelica a little.

8. Persephone | Greek Mythology Not sure if there’s a “fandom” for this persay but Tumblr went through a phase in the early 10s where there was a ton of meta about Persephone and how her narrative as a damsel stolen by Hades didn’t do her justice. The flipped the script and made her Queen of Hell, powerful enough to sway the God of Death and terrifying enough to keep him in line unlike all the other Gods that were sticking their dick in anyone and anything. It’s such an empowering narrative, a girl taken from everything she’s ever known seizes the opportunity to become a force to be reckoned with. I love it.

9. Gregory House | House M.D. I was going to say Sherlock here but I never really went hard for Sherlock either the movies or the BBC show. I loved the show but really more for the canon and meta which is only half the fandom life. With House, I just love that he is so unapologetically hateful to anyone he deems stupid. But he’s also earnest and good too with a heavy dollop of man pain... you know... my favorite *cough*Dean Winchester*cough* I ship him pretty exclusively with Cameron beacuse I really like the dynamic. Her hero worship/white knight complex his emotional constipation but fondness of her optimism and ideals. Great dynamic.

10. Edward Cullen | Twilight This is my favorite Trash Monkey character in my favorite trash monkey series. The books are horribly written, the movies are better but not by much. But goddammit something about his level of obsessive fuckery speaks to my girl lizard brain and I am just rooting for this sparkly idiot and his clumsy human jar of mayonnaise. I ship him and Bella because apparently the universe didn’t find the fact that he’s my favorite character in this series humiliating enough.

Tagging (please don’t feel obligated to participate if you don’t want to): @navajolovesdestiel @chevrolangels @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @castielific @rauko-is-a-free-elf @astral-almighty @only4myfandoms @ charlie-bradburi @notfunnydean @blowthatpieceofjunk

#GUYS SOMEONE ACTUALLY TAGGED ME!!!#GUYS!!!#about me

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imaginesmai · 6 years ago

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Tom Hardy-B for Baby

B for Baby (you’re pregnant and something happens)

This was requested by @random3067 a long time ago. I’m catching up little by little with the requests, hopefully I will post more of them next week, but I can’t promise anything. I’m sorry it took so long, I hope you like it! I really like how this turned out. I know it’s sad but, I mean, I’m a suck for angst!

Warnings: pregnancy problems, blood.

As an actor, Tom had a really busy life. When he was not filming two countries away from you, he was making interviews or film-tours for months. And if, by chance, he had some free time to spend with his wife, nosy paparazzi followed you everywhere. He had tried to keep his personal life out of the public eye; yet after years of participating in well-known films, it was impossible. So you just had to deal with them whenever you went out.

At the beginning of your relationship, it really bothered you. Tom was always followed around by the most disrespectful people. Sure, there were always those fans who were kind and cute, and some, extremely rare, reporters who knew how to take a no for an answer. However, most of them ruined your dates with Tom, and it got to the point you couldn’t even go out. Years passed after your relationship was made official, and things calmed down for a bit; then, you got engaged and people went crazy. If there was a time where you were really afraid of them, was when the press discovered you were pregnant.

- I can’t believe it. -you scoffed, sitting in the couch. -Look, it’s even in The Press and Journal! Who the fuck reads that?

- Love, they were meant to find out. -Tom gave you a soft smile.

You were currently at your house, in the living room. As you read the countless news from your pregnancy, Tom was learning his lines for his newest film. You didn’t want them to find out so soon, so you tried to use big shirts and wide dresses. If you went out, Tom tried to cover you from the cameras so they wouldn’t notice your little belly. What you didn’t expect was a picture taken by a fan from your own house, where it could be seen clearly your pregnancy state. Tom was pretty calm, yet you were more than angry.

- They don’t let me chill even in my own house. -you said. -I swear, I’m going to lock myself away until the world forget about me.

- Shame I wouldn’t allow that. -he turned to you. -I love too much.

- And I love you too, Tom. -you smiled caressing your small belly. -I just hope that this stops before she is born.

At your words, Tom’s attention was fully yours. He had been thinking about it for a while; he knew how fragile a baby is, and was determinated to keep his child out of the cameras. Tom moved so that he was facing you, and put the phone away from your hand.

- Hey, we’ve talked about this. I’m not going to let anything happen to that kid. -he said. -I’ve already talked to the security team. When she is born, they’re not going to let any cameras near.

- And when she’s old enough to go out? She won’t have a normal life. -you sighed. -She won’t be able to even play in the streets, Tom.

- I’m sorry, Y/N. -he was looking at you with apologetic eyes. -I wish it could be different, knowing it’s because of my job-

- I know, babe. -you took his hand in yours, and played with his ring. -I married you knowing all of this. And I don’t regret it one bit.

- Still, I wish I could give you something better.

- You’re giving me more than what I could dream about. -you pecked his lips softly. -The thing that really bothers me is the photo they have chosen.

- What? -Tom let out a little laugh.

You showed him the photo of yourself in the balcony of your house, talking through the phone while Tom was smoking in the background. You were just wearing some leggings and the top of your bikini, showing your little but round stomach.

- See? I’m horrendous. -you pouted. -I’m thinking about taking a picture myself and sending it to them.

- You don’t look that bad. -he laughed. -Just… angry. Who were you talking to?

- You’re there too, so it can’t be you. -you earned a playful glare from Tom. -You know what I want to do know?

- Do I want to know? -he smirked. -Cause last time you said that I ended up in a gas station asking for mayonnaise and cookies only for you to throw them to the bin.

- First, I didn’t throw them, you did.

- Because you told me to!

- Details. -you waved your hand playfully. -Second, it’s nothing like that. I want to take a pregnancy Photoshoot.

Tom’s mouth fell open while looking at you with wide eyes. In all the years of your relationship and marriage, you had refused to make a Photoshoot about anything. He had wanted to take some photos for a magazine with you not so long ago, yet you said it was fruitless and that you didn’t want to.

- A-a what?

- A pregnancy Photoshoot. You know, with those cool backgrounds and amazing lights that make me look like a goddess.

- Why now? -he frowned. -I mean, I’ve been suggesting it forever!

- You know my friend Clare? She’s pregnant too, and has the cutest photos ever. -you smiled exactly. -Besides, I want to send something cool to my parents this time. Our wedding’s photos are shit, babe.

- Yeah, I have to agree. -he laughed. -I don’t even know why we have them yet.

- It’s funny to look to ourselves wasted in the dance floor.

- If you say so. -Tom said. -I’m going to call a few friends and see if we can make those photos this month, alright?

- Fine by me. -you said as you tackled him to the couch, cuddling in his side. -Maybe later, now I want to lay with my handsome husband.

Tom smiled softly down at you, running a hand through your hair. Sometimes, he got sick of the fame; of people following him around all day and of being expected to be perfect in everything. The only thing that kept him sane was probably you. His beautiful wife who was giving him a family. He squeezed you harder between his arms, pecking your forehead softly. Your breathing slowed down and just as he was reaching for his lines again, he heard you whispering.

- Tom? What about Cheetos and milk?

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Tom did his magic, and got you a pregnancy Photoshoot for the end of the next week. You were growing bigger day by day, but you still able to move around freely. That didn’t mean Tom was being a rational human being and understood that you were out of danger. For him, even a fly moving too close to you was a threat. He shouted at anyone who talked to you, and he nearly used his fists when a man put himself between you and the door.

In a way, you understood him. You had been trying for a baby for years, and the doctor had told you that your uterus was not strong enough to hold one. But your little girl had managed to stick there, and even if the doctor thought that it was a risky pregnancy, you took your chances.

- How long will we have to wait? -you sighed, leaning into Tom as you sat in an uncomfortable couch.

- I don’t know, love. The photographer is running late. -he said.

He moved his hand to your hair, caressing it softly as you listened to the horrible music in the waiting room. It wasn’t bad, there were some big couches and a lot of magazines to read. But you just had the need to complain.

- I can hear you complaining in your head, Y/N. -Tom laughed. -Come on, it’s not that bad.

- Oh, say that to your daughter. She has been moving a lot since I woke up. Just like her father, wants to be in front of the cameras.

- That’s my girl. -he laughed. -Four months more and we will be able to meet her.

- It’s getting too long. -you scoffed. -I hope she behaves better when she’s out.

- You just complain too much.

- I see. -you moved out of his reach. -I would like to see you with a baby in your uterus who keeps kicking your bladder. You would be crying like a baby.

- You’re the strong one in our relationship, love. -he winked at you.

A middle-age woman entered the studio in a rush in that moment, talking about the bad traffic and some accident in the main road. Tom told you that her name was Angelica, and that she was a friend of the family. Quickly, she pushed you up and showed you the first pair of clothes and your first position.

Angelica dressed you up with beautiful dresses that made you look like a princess, and also made Tom nearly drool. Truth was he was enjoying it more than you. He appeared in a few photos too; holding your stomach, kissing you or just looking at you. You two laughed and had a good time; and it was over before you knew it. It was almost lunch time when Angelica told you that you could leave.

- I’ll have the photos next week. -she smiled. -I could send them to Tom or you could come to pick them up?

- Send them to me, I’m leaving to New York for a few days. -Tom answered.

- No, I can come. -you looked at him. -I have nothing to do yet, and I get bored at home.

- Yeah, you’re not leaving the house alone with all the press. -he smiled at you. -I’ll try to come home soon to take them.

- Whatever you want. -Angelica said. -See you soon, then. And good luck with your pregnancy! I’m sure she’ll be an angel.

- Oh, I hope so. -you laughed. -Thanks again, Angelica!

After Tom payed her, you both left the studio. A low grumble left your stomach, and Tom decided it wouldn’t hurt having lunch outside; so he told your driver he could leave. The first meters to the restaurant were calm, and you talked about the session. But as you turned the first corner, the first paparazzi appeared. He was a thin man with an enormous camera, acompained by a girl who totally got into your personal space. She started asking questions about your pregnancy, and at first they were nice; how far along were you, if she was giving you problems or possible names.

- Have you thought about what will you do when she’s born? -the girl asked, walking closer and making you push yourself closer to Tom, who wrapped an arm around your shoulder. -I mean, Mr. Hardy is always away, so how will you manage?

- That’s none of your concern. -Tom said. -We’re not answering anything else, so if you could-

- Tom! Look, that’s Tom Hardy! -a new voice appeared. -Hey, can you answer some questions for our journal?

- No, we’re-

- Hey! We were here first, fuck off! -the nosy girl said.

Soon, an argument between the two journalists started. They threw questions at you without a care in the world, and interrupted each other before they could talk. Tom tried to walk a little faster, getting really angry and impatient, and dragged you alone with care. Suddenly, the man with the camera was pushed to the side by the second journalist, which made the camera fall to the ground and crack. There was a second of silence where no one said anything, until the face of the camera guy got so red you thought it would explode. He tried to charge against the journalist but Tom and you were in between. You were pushed against your husband’s chest and nearly lost your balance, and that made Tom explode.

- What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! -he pushed the camera guy back. -Don’t you see she’s in between?!

- Don’t touch me, dude! -the guy screamed back. -Are you looking at my camera? That guy fucking broke it! It’s more expensive that you!

- If you weren’t an asshole it wouldn’t have happened! -the journalist said.

- You both get the fuck out of here. -Tom growled.

- We just wanted to know how your wife was doing. -the journalist said. -Not like those idiots, who doesn’t know a thing about good journalism!

The camera guy lost it at his words and before you knew it, Tom was in between the fight. There were punches and kicks, and you drowned a scream when one of them hit your husband; he didn’t hesitate in returning it. Some people stopped by to see what was happening, and you saw a few of them taking pictures. The girl who was besides you tried to stop you when you reached for Tom, but she was two seconds late. You gripped his arm and tried to take him out, with the bad luck that the camera guy pushed Tom at that moment.

Life seemed to stop down as your right foot caught the curb and you felt yourself loosing your balance. Tom’s body followed you to the ground, and you didn’t know what hurt more; if the scratch of your elbows or the hit on your stomach by Tom’s elbow. He got up as soon as he realised he had landed on something soft, only to panic when he saw you lying in the ground. Rushed words slipped out of his mouth, but you couldn’t hear them neither the apologies of the camera guy; you could just feel that something wasn’t right.

Tom offered you his hand and helped you to get up, with the other girl gripping your other elbow. People around you started to ask questions, and Tom could do nothing to avoid people crushing you. Between your panic, you could only sob; and try to breath.

- Get out! -Tom was screaming. -You don’t see she needs space?! Get out!

- Everybody take a step back! -the girl said. -Come on, back, back!

They tried to keep everyone off you until one of the guards of Tom came down the streets. Finally, people around you disappeared and could breath again. You half expected everything to come back to normal when the anxiety disappeared, but it didn’t. You slipped from Tom’s hands on your cheeks and fell down to the floor on your knees.

- W-what’s wrong? Y/N? -he kneeled beside you. -Love, where does it hurt?

- I-I think so-something is wrong. -you tried to breath. -Tom, it hurts.

- The head? -he cradled your head. -Your ankle? You need to-

- The baby.

You both looked down to see a pool of blood under you. The beautiful dress you had managed to borrow from Angelica was then a dark shade of red, and your thighs were sticky with it. The next moments were a blur. You heard Tom’s cries for help and the girl trying to help you, only to be shoved back by Tom. The realization of the situation hit both of you like a truck, and you understood that, just in seconds, your life could have gone to hell.

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Tom would remember two things about that day. The crushing fear and the guilt.

First, it was the fear, as he saw your scared eyes and the blood in the floor. As he cradled you between his arms while the ambulance arrived, he had to watch as the pool grew bigger. A man that had been there had tried to stop the bleeding, but he only got back a bloodied jacket. By the time the ambulance came, you were unconscious. A crushing fear hit him when he took a last glance to the floor before the doors closed; the pavement was stained with an enormous pool of blood. Since that moment, he couldn’t control his sobs.

Then, the guilt. They made him wait in a crowded room while they took care of you. He had his clothes and hands stained, but he didn’t care. Some people recognized him and a few of them, who were disrespectful enough, tried to talk to him. Yet the girl turned out to be a good company and kept everyone out with harsh words. Maybe it was because she felt bad or because she just wanted to keep herself in Tom’s good side. She wasn’t. Tom made a list of the people he could blame for the accident; in the end, he was always the only one to blame. If he had just been a little calmer. Or had payed more attention to you. Anyway, along the sobs and the fear, during the two hours he had to wait he had to deal with the guilt that was eating him alive.

- Mr. Hardy? -the girl touched his shoulder, making him look up. -I…I’m going to go. My parents might be worried about me.

- Sure.

- I’m sorry. -she sighed. -I’m sorry if the questions were too intrusive and for the behaviour of my mate. I really hope she’s okay.

Tom didn’t say anything else, just nodded. The girl left and he decided to walk around for a bit, until a few minutes later a doctor came out looking for him.

- She’s fine. -the doctor told him. -If the pregnancy was risky enough without the accident, now it’s worse. She will need to be extra careful, and I doubt she should leave the hospital before the birth.

- B-but you said she was fine? -Tom frowned.

- It could have been so much worse. The baby has moved from where it should be when she fell to the ground, and that made a part of her uterus rip. -the doctor said. -We could put everything in place, but as a temporary solution.

- Temporary solution until when?

- Until the baby is born. Then, we will have to take the uterus out. -there was a moment of silence before the doctor spoke again. -Do you want to see her? She’s awake.

Tom walked through the corridors with a sulking face, looking down at the ground. He was trying hard to keep the tears at bay, but he felt like he was drowning in them. The walk to your room was the longest he had experience, filled with pity stares and curious eyes. Without the girl there, people got close to talk to him; but he just walked closer. Finally, he arrived to your door. You were laying in the bed, with a very pale face and an IV in your arm.

- Love. -Tom gave you a shaky smile. -How are you feeling?

- At least, she’s safe. -you tried to seem happy, but Tom saw how your bottom lip trembled and how your eyes were clouded with sadness. -They-the doctor said they will take out my uterus.

- Not until she’s born. -he said, sitting beside you in the bed and caressing your cheek.

- If she’s born. I’m now considered as a very risky pregnancy. What-

- Everything is going to be fine as long as you stay here. -he tried to convince himself. -And then, we will go home with our beautiful girl.

- I’m scared, Tom. -you whispered, eyes tearful. -I won’t be able to have more children, and only if I’m lucky I will have this one.

- Y/N. -he looked deep into your eyes. -It doesn’t matter what happens, okay? I’m going to stay by your side until we’re old and ugly. I promised you in the wedding and I’m keeping the promise. Together in everything, love.

You managed to hug him without moving your IV, and you cried into his shoulder. You had faith in Tom, in your relationship, and in the baby that was growing in your stomach. Only time would decided how things turned out, but you were sure Tom would be there every step of the way.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

#tom hardy #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy one shot #tom hardy angst #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy angst alphabet #angst alphabet #request #imaginemai

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caffeineivore · 5 years ago

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Commission #6, Belatedly

For @d3fiant, who prompted R/J from an old ficverse.

Holly isn’t in this business for the ill-gotten means, as it were, he’s sure of it.

Of course, it’s not her real name, but then again, none of the women that Jack has come across in the last two years since the beginning of his acquaintance and association with D use their real names. Men in their world still have an easier time of it-- most bystander witnesses would not remember the likes of Noel, for example, beyond hulking shoulders rippling with tattoos, or Konstantin beyond polished but nondescript businessman with watchful eyes and a three-piece suit. Holly, on the other hand, has a face which could grace the covers of glossy magazines and a voice to match the black satin of her hair. He’d been able to pick her out from across a crowded room the minute he’d met her.

He wonders if D has an affinity for herbology of some sort -- certainly, the aliases of his female associates are various types of flora-- all innocuous but deadly. Holly. Jessamine. Daphne. Belladonna. He’s not paid to wonder about it, or about Holly’s origins and habits and what makes her tick and what makes her smile, but a man convalescing from a gunshot wound is a man with nothing but time and his mind for company. Holly, certainly, does not bother to visit more than the bare minimum. Sensible girl.

She brings him his meals, though, three times a day. He is almost certain that wherever she’d brought him is not one of the usual safe houses-- his room locks from the outside and he is both too weak and too smart to attempt to explore outside the confines of the four walls. There is a shelf full of books for his entertainment as he recovers-- ranging from leather-bound classics to trashy paperback sci-fi novels to a good year’s worth of subscriptions to various magazines both pithy and frivolous-- Time. National Geographic. Better Homes and Gardens. Vogue. Us Weekly. The furniture is elegant and tasteful, running towards graceful antiques rather than the sleek and modern, but for all that, there’s no coziness to the room. The hermetically sealed window-- storm-paned glass-- looks out to a well-manicured expanse of yard featuring velvety lawns and neat beds of stately, formal flowers-- two banks of rose bushes, red and white, line up with the precision of soldiers, bordered by neat green hedges. The yard is completely bordered by tall, upright poplars, shielding it from view of prying eyes. It’s certainly too nicely-appointed of a property for the likes of the average safe house, which in Jack’s experience has always been as deliberately nondescript as possible down to the dun-coloured siding and the mid-sized minivan generally kept parked in the driveway.

A clock-- one of those graceful silver-and-glass affairs with Roman numerals marking the hours-- ticks away at the top of the bookshelf, and just as the hour of noon, a key turns in the lock, and Holly walks in with a tray. She is always punctual on these thrice-daily visits: breakfast at eight, lunch at noon, dinner at six. Jack gives her his customary grin, which she does not return, and takes her in.

She’s wearing a cream-coloured silk blouse and a quiet knee-length skirt in dove-gray, with matching stilettos which are completely silenced by the plush of the carpet. No adornment aside from the ruby studs in her ears. Add in a leather handbag and perhaps a long coat in a neutral shade, and she’d blend in with any socialite out for lunch or shopping. He’d bet any money, though, that there’s a gun strapped to her leg under the skirt. She doesn’t know him any better than he knows her. And considering the last time he’d seen her wielding a Beretta 92 at a pursuing car’s tires, he’s well aware that she’s more than proficient with firearms.

“What’s for lunch, Jill?” His inquiry, as intended, earns him a thinly veiled glare. She doesn’t look like a ‘Jill’ either, but it’s fun to get a reaction out of her. She’s normally so controlled. She sets the tray down on the desk, in precisely the same spot as his breakfast tray from earlier had been.

“Grilled salmon and a whole wheat roll, with a spinach salad with blue cheese and cranberries on the side. Don’t call me Jill.” It’s always healthy, well-prepared food, and he thinks that it is perhaps the type of fare that she would eat. There’s a bottle of grapefruit juice to go along with his meal-- no wine, no beer. He has a mid-level craving for a greasy, juicy burger with everything but the kitchen sink piled into it and an icy, foamy lager, but he’d have to be somewhere other than this most well-appointed of prisons before he’d be able to indulge.

“You gonna join me for lunch for once, sweetheart? Just a quick meal between friends and associates. I won’t bite.”

“I have a lot of other commitments this afternoon, and you have a checkup.”

“Ah, yes. With the good doctor from the docks. You know, I do think she’s the only one of us who actually has no ulterior motives or hidden agendas. The only ‘good’ one, as it were. She didn’t even ask questions when you and Noel brought me in, did she? What a kind soul. What’s her name again?”

“Angelica. You seem to have a real problem remembering people’s names.” Holly doesn’t spare him a glance as she lays out a place setting-- complete with a snowy linen napkin and heavy silverware, arranged formally, and pours his grapefruit juice into a glass half-full of crushed ice. She definitely grew up in a household accustomed to formal meals, whatever she’s doing these days amusing herself by running recon or engaging in gunfights rather like some elegant version of a gun moll.

“I will try harder.” Jack tucks his tongue in his cheek and admires the way her legs look in that prim, narrow skirt. “So that’s a no on joining me for lunch, huh?”

“Noel will be over in an hour to take you to physical therapy. You need to fully recover from your wounds, and will be of very little use to D if that gunshot takes you out of the game.”

“It would be a damned shame, wouldn’t it?” Jack cuts into the tender pink flesh of the salmon with his knife and fork. “I suppose I’d have to live out the rest of my days in boring, civilian anonymity. Probably learn how to mow lawns and weed gardens. Your yard is very nice. Who takes care of it?”

“I have a gardener on staff, and contract a landscaping company that handles the heavy work.”

“So this is your home, then. I feel so honoured to be a guest.”

Perhaps she was not trying to tell him so much. Jack grins even as she scowls. “Don’t worry, beautiful. I know not to brag about our time together. Is it so wrong that since I am stuck here until I heal I try to get to know you better? I knew everything about everyone on my platoon, down to MacMillan’s allergies to cats and Patterson’s wife’s obsession with reality TV to Rosenberg’s fondness for gas station hostess cupcakes. We spent a lot of time together, often in close quarters, always with the same people. And besides, isn’t the point of being part of a team knowing and trusting your team members?”

“If you think that spouting off some corporate bullshit team-building synergy nonsense is going to persuade me, you are vastly mistaken. I’m not here to be your friend or your confidante. Just eat your lunch and get yourself ready to your physical therapy.” Holly, clearly at the end of her patience, tidies up the remnants of his last meal and drops his empty coffee cup onto the tray with an irritated clatter. “I have to deal with you when we are working together so as to not end up on the wrong side of a bullet. Outside of that, we’re not here to be buddy-buddy.”

She takes the tray and walks out of the room without a backward glance, and Jack listens to the sound of the lock turning in the door. He could, if he really wanted to, pick it with the tines of his dessert fork. Or smash through the window and rappel down the side of the house and take his chances. But it would be a pity on all levels-- at such an egregious breach of conduct, D would kill him, if Holly didn’t do so, first. And he’s almost certain if the day came that his life was forfeit to the syndicate, he’d deserve it, and never see it coming.

He finishes his meal-- it is expertly prepared and delicious, after all-- and goes over his mental notes about the beautiful, deadly enigma whose somewhat unwilling hospitality he is currently imposed upon. Holly looks to be perhaps in her late twenties, born into great wealth and privilege, and on their first meeting, had spoken flawless French like a native Parisian. But her English is definitely American, with traces of New England society in its haughtier moments. Her hands are elegant and manicured, but he’d seen her just as gracefully snap the neck of one of the goons who’d attempted to corner her in the deserted warehouse. She handles hand-to-hand with the cool, business-like attitude of someone viewing it as a necessary evil, competently and skillfully, but not with any particular relish. He can’t quite pinpoint where she’d been trained, but the style is distinctly Asian, with its graceful stances and lethal strikes and kicks. Every little tidbit of information he gleans brings with it more questions, more interest.

“You’re a hell of a woman, Jill.” Jack grins at nothing in particular and makes his way to the en-suite bathroom to wash up after his meal. There, too, no expense is spared-- the towels are plush, the fixtures pristine, and the soap and shampoo smell pleasantly of cloves and sandalwood. He is given a razor to shave every morning, but it’s always gone out of the bathroom by breakfast-- taken out with his dinner tray and the hamper of clothing. She trusts him enough, perhaps, to keep him in her home rather than a safe-house, but not enough to leave completely to his own devices. Perhaps she wonders about his background and motives like he does about hers.

Noel knocks on the door before unlocking it, right on time. The big guy is a lot less mysterious than Holly is-- Jack already knows the gist of his background. Former Irish mob, a bare-knuckle brawler with the big arms and shoulders to prove it. He’d seen Noel hot-wire a car on one occasion in all of seventy-five seconds, and also seen those big bruiser’s hands, skillful and gentle as a maiden aunt’s, fiddling with wires and microphones to bug an opponent’s office after they’d broken in. Noel doesn’t try to hide the Boston in his accent, or indeed the Galway when he’s particularly riled up. He’s been in D��s employ for two years longer than Jack has, and simply refers to the kingpin as “Boss man”. Quite efficiently, Noel wheels him down the hall, then into an actual elevator. He’s brought outside into a van bearing the name and logo of a dry cleaner’s and efficiently strapped in. Noel takes a circuitous route through town-- not that Jack can see anything from the back-- but at least deigns to play music during the drive. It’s unapologetic, kick-ass hard rock heavy on the guitar and drums, precisely the type of music that does not invite or facilitate conversation.

By the time the van’s doors are opened again, Jack is far, far away from the polished, glossy neighbourhood of Holly’s residence. Garbage-laden alleys and derelict buildings dot these tenements with urban blight, and the industrial building they’re parked in front of is pock-marked with graffiti and rust stains on the concrete walls. To get in, Noel has to swipe a keycard, then punch in a code. They wheel down a straight hallway bright with fluorescent lighting and Noel unlocks the next set of doors with two different keys. The clinic that Dr. Angelica runs, though, despite its singular location, is clean as a whistle, equipped with state-of-the-art technology. She meets them at the door, a petite, pretty woman with sad blue eyes and a wistful smile, and turns her attention to Jack.

“You’re looking well. How are you feeling?”

“A lot better than when I’d gotten shot, that’s for sure.” The bullet had hit him in the leg through the door of their escape vehicle, and Holly had taken control of the wheel from the passenger side even as he’d slammed on the brakes, nearly causing a spin-out. In the tense seconds that followed, though, she’d managed to fire off three shots through the open passenger side window, taking out their pursuer’s two front tires and the windshield. That car had rammed into a wall head-on, and she’d managed to keep him awake and alert for long enough for backup to arrive. He’d woken up, briefly, in this same clinic, groggy on meds, with Angelica patiently stitching him up. She’d taken the time to explain that he’d caught a bullet in the leg and was very fortunate that it had not nicked his femoral artery, but it would be awhile before he could be up and running again. He’d taken it as a matter of course-- really, if one were to think of it, he’d been fired at with a lot deadlier weapons back in the day with his platoon in war zones. A 9 millimeter in the leg from a gang member’s Glock could have been a land mine, or a hail of bullets from an AK-47. Then she’d put him under again, and he’d woken up in that room in Holly’s house some days later, disoriented but safe enough. A week and a half later, Holly still lets herself get annoyed with him whenever he teases her, and a small part of him finds that gratifying.

“I don’t have to explain how lucky you are, of course. With your background, I’m sure that you know. But with the right therapy and exercise, I don’t see why you wouldn’t make almost a full recovery in good time.” Angelica tells him after running some tests. “You are quite healthy otherwise, and you neither lost a lot of blood or received any extensive bone and tissue damage. A clean through-and-through, as we say. It certainly could have been a lot worse.”

“I could be floating facedown in the river, yeah,” Jack says drily. “How long are we talking, Doc?”

“For someone of your size and health, you can be up with crutches as soon as two weeks from now. If you maintain a healthy regimen of light but steady exercise on that leg, you should gain full mobility in another month after that.”

“Do you really think Holly will put up with me for that long?” Jack asks drolly. He isn’t quite sure how well the good Dr. Angelica knows Holly, but certainly the doctor knows enough of the syndicate’s business to not only ask no questions when he’d been brought in, but set up a whole secret clinic in the slums that runs as well as a trauma center in a major hospital. He’d heard of the Doc in the docks since he’d started, but until now, had never had occasion to meet her. “You know Holly, right? Black hair, red lipstick, very hot, keeps a Beretta on her at all times? She can’t stand me.”

Angelica’s lips twist into a faint smile. “If you say so. I know her of old. We roomed together freshman year at Yale. She’ll find a way to tolerate your company for as long as needed, I’m sure.”

Yet another tidbit of information about his elusive, fiery partner-of-sorts falls into his lap. It’s almost more exciting than the prospect of crutches in the next two weeks. Jack lets Angelica poke and prod some more, answers questions by rote, and counts down the hours until he can see her again.

#R/J #senshi/shitennou #sailor moon #fanfiction #fanfic #commission

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laneymeadows · 5 years ago

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Hey is that [SYDNEY SWEENEY]? No, that’s just [DELANEY ANGELICA MEADOWS]. They’re [TWENTY-THREE], and have spent [TWO WEEKS] in Dayton. I hear that they’re kind of [LOYAL AND INTELLIGENT], but also [UNRELIABLE AND SELFISH]. Did you hear their vices are [PROMISCUITY AND COMMITMENT ISSUES]? Can’t wait to see [HER] at the next party!

( TW: MENTIONS OF ABUSE AND NEGLECT. )

full name: delaney angelica meadows

nickname: laney, lane, angel, angie, d.

age: twenty-three

date of birth: november 26th

place of birth: nowhere, ky

zodiac: saggitarius

gender: cis-female

nationality: american

sexual orientation: pansexual

romantic orientation: panromantic

relationship status: single

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES.

height: 5′3′

weight: 119 pounds

hair color: blonde

eye color: blue

need glasses/contacts? yes

tattoos: sagittarius tattoo star constellation just above the bend of her elbow, lotus on the other with a free flying bird leaving a sitting flock from her left to right shoulder, leaving stardust in it’s wake

distinguishing marks: signs of healed scars across her upper thighs and a couple on her wrists.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION.

hometown: nowhere, ky

current residence: dayton, ca

past residences: las vegas, nevada. eugene & portland, oregon. seattle, washington.

living arrangement: apartment

spoken languages: english

financial status: enough to get by but still getting settled

education level: finished high school at 17.

occupation: stripper at plan b

FAMILIAL INFORMATION.

father: wade meadows. 58. doesn’t remember much but the abandonment has weighed on her.

mother: farrah meadows. 56. hates her and hates even more that she’s become a carbon copy.

siblings: jamie & ryleigh meadows (twins, 21) aiden o’connor (brother, 31)

children: none

other: n/a

pets? dog named tank

PERSONALITY.

positive traits: adventurous, independent, loyal, easy going and charismatic.

negative traits: reckless, unreliable, selfish, detatched, aloof, irresponsible.

likes: sex, ecstasy, no strings attached, cocaine, tequila and taking her clothes off without a second thought, tik tok, money && freedom.

dislikes: relationships, being held down, being told what to do, people putting their hands on her unless she’s calling the shots and being responsible for someone else’s well being.

quirks: talks to herself when she’s trying to figure something out (she got it from her brother), pulls herself away the moment feelings get involved or she gets too comfortable, gets blacked out everynight and wakes up with someone she doesn’t know, not knowing where she is, loves being on her own and having her quiet space to herself.

moral alignment: lawful neutral/sometimes lawful evil.

If you were to ask Delaney Meadows what she wanted, she’d simply stare, a glint of hope in her eyes as a mess of a smile sputtered across her lips, a blunt between her fingertips and the once word that slip between them would be “free”. Ever since she was younger, she’d never quiet... fit. Maybe it was the fact that her father hadn’t been present, chalking it up to the typical daddy issues trope before letting the thought slip into obscurity until the next time someone asked what the fuck was her problem. Nowhere, Kentucky; the name alone weaved the truth of what her life’s course had taken her, constantly drifting through as the ones that were supposed to car most simply slipped between her fingertips. An afterthought, that was the cursed middle syndrome main essence had been, hadn’t it? Always left to be the one thought of last, or at least, that’s the way it’d felt. Mom and dad, well, they hadn’t hung around long. Dad took the first chance he’d had to run for the hills, and mom well -- the shit show that Laney had become herself was enough of a storybook.

It was never meant to turn out this way, her brother being her caretaker, a teacher taking the place of a father, and where was she? Floating. Doing what she could to bust her ass and take care of as much slack that was left behind as she could. She loved Aiden, really. He tried with her, but the more he reeled her in, the harder she fought against the line he’d cast out. So much potential, wasted. A smart girl, graduated at 17, one of the highest SAT and ACT scores in the country, acceptances to colleges with scholarships some would sell their newborns for and where would she take it? Anywhere but here. That life wasn’t for her, college and all this mundane bullshit. It was the last fight, that had been the main catalyst for her departure in the same cold manner as their parents, the one where she’d brought a boy home, nothing new, except this time, she’d gotten caught; that was the last time. If you’re so grown, get a job, get a hotel. The words played like a symphony on a never ending loop, so, that’s what she did -- except this time, she didn’t turn back.

Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and months turned to a year. All she had was a brain, her body, and a boy. One who’d taken every chance he could to remind her exactly what she’d been worth, the bruises on her body the proof of the so called love he’d shown her. But even through it all, she knew better. She’d suffered, yes. Experienced the anguish and the pain, but not out of love, out of convenience. Out of mere circumstance. A fast car, some cash -- it was your typical Bonnie and Clyde, except she wouldn’t let that tragedy unveil, so she did what she did best the moment she hit eighteen, she escaped his grasp and ran for the nearest club she could find. One where they’d welcomed her with opened arms and a plethora of suitors. It was perfect, really. But no matter how she’d tried to block that year from her memory database, the scars left their painful reminder, keeping her up at night and she swore -- if she stood in one place for too long, she could feel them flare in searing pain. So, she ran. Oregon was nice, peaceful and quiet -- what a fucking joke, then, Seattle. Better, but still, her heart yearned for California, whispers of a certain town that had a history of sin woven into it’s core called out to her. It was her mission, so she worked.

She should’ve been happy, a bird finally breaking free of it’s flock, flying in it’s own direction, but still, the thought of her mother and father plagued her memories, the blows itching at her until it had turned her numb and fuck, all she wanted to do was feel again. Feel pain, feel anger, feel hopelessness even, but it was all for not. The drugs, the alcohol rolled in, rolling through her body as they breathed life back into her once more. Then came along Dayton. She wasn’t proud of how she’d gotten there, proud of the things she’d done on the side of bearing her naked body in the small quarters of the VIP rooms, but -- fuck it, survival of the fittest. Plan B was her, well, Plan B and she’d tell you to call her Angel, though she knew it was the furthest from the truth, though still it wiped behind the past she still begrudgingly left behind with nothing more than a series of letters and ignored calls. And even now, to this day, if you asked her what she’d aspired to be in her life, with a mind so full of potential, she’d simply smile, though the glint of hope dying with each moment -- she’d still whisper to you... free.

#( // &. characterintro - delaneyangelmeadows. )

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mariposalass · 5 years ago

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Deep Pain, Deep Sorrow

Summary: The day he died the first time has come, and Philip is having nightmares of reliving the events in his mind. It is not really great, not great at all.

Setting: Mari and co.’s house in Daly City, California, present day midnight; Weehawken Dueling Grounds in Weehawken, New Jersey and the Church family house in New York City, New York, November 20-24, 1801.

Notes: Written up in the last minute in commemoration of RL Philip Hamilton’s death by gun dueling on this day 218 years ago. There are Hamilton musical spoilers and mentions of death, guns, & blood loss along with slight mention of alcohol & hate speech against Alexander Hamilton: if you’re not comfortable with any of them, then skip this and finding something more cheerful instead. Although the ending doesn’t end on a sour note though… Also tagging @husband-of-lucoa since I’m basing this on a RP we had on Discord with Marina’s old life dilemma before as a main theme.

Tags: character death, mention of guns, salty language, mention of blood and blood loss, existential crisis, Defying Time, Renewed Potential, Hamilton: An American Musical, Hamilton spoilers, implied mention of alcohol, hate speech, George Eacker bashing (if this is a thing), real life history

It all started with a speech, a goddamn speech on the Fourth of July nonetheless. Bloody Eacker had all the nerves to bash his father like that: no respect to the man who had to work hard from a rough life of illegitimacy and having one parent died & another far away to help bringing a nation out of the shackles of Great Britain’s control, in front of a bunch of people wanting him dead literally or otherwise, poor Theo’s figuratively blind and ambitious father included. Surely, if that fool had known the man personally much longer, maybe it have been less abrasive, but no, he was a foolish twat. 4 months had passed since that slanderous speech and he & an old friend, Stephen Price, had confronted him, both younger men being under some alcohol for some reason, in the Park Theater about that rancid work of words. A verbal fight has borne out of this confrontation and the final straw came in the form of that bastard calling him and Stephen ‘rascals’, which had the young men to challenge him in a dueling match.

Back then, most men, even the smartest and most noble of the lot, wouldn’t simply settle things in a calm and logical manner; with pride on the line, they dealt arguments with small death machines, guns loaded with bullets that could spell death to the unfortunate person on the other side. Eacker would take on Price first a day after, then him on the next day. Four shoots were heard across in Weehawken, but no one died that day. The next day came, and it was him against the foolish twat; with some advice from his father, he had started it with a delope, throwing his first shoot, a move that would ultimately cost him life. Eacker had done the same, for a fool like him, it too was a smart move then.

A minute later, neither one dared to make a move, but then, Eacker aimed for him and shot him above the right hip and into the left arm; he did shot back, but the bullet was useless. The fired bullet from Eacker’s gun was lodged to his arm, spasms came in involuntarily. Everyone was wondering and panicking while Eacker was blindly soaking in this false victory, yet he knew that the victory that fool was enjoying is fleeting and was trying his best to remain calm and collected as Death is slowly arriving at his doorsteps and he was bleeding profusely. Soon, word was spread of the duel and he was then rushed to Aunt Angelica and Uncle John’s house in the city center; Angelica, while still shocked by her nephew’s misfortune, wrote that his attitude during this trying time was unbelievably remarkable for a 19 year old nearing Death.

Horrified by the news of what Eacker did to his firstborn son and rocked by anxiety & worry like every responsible caring parent would, Alexander rushed to Dr. Hosack’s home to ask for medical help, only to learn that the good doctor was already ahead of him at the Church residence by this time, staying with his family to recover before heading to his sister in law’s place. By the time he and Eliza reached him, he was paler than the moon itself, his face ashen from the near loss of blood, almost haggard in appearance.

The older Hamilton was in despair, sobbing and clutching Dr. Hosack by the hand & salted tears running down from his watery eyes, and the middle Schuyler sister, pregnant with her final child at 3 months, even more distraught than she would let on. Pulse was faint, but still heard by Alexander, and yet time was running out for his eldest son. They had stayed by his side all the night along, 14 hours and a confession of faith later however, Death has taken Philip Hamilton away from the world and from his family at 5 AM. Only 19 years old.

He had bolted up from his bed after so many flashes running across his mind, waking up screaming and causing his roommate Ahkmenrah to wake up from his slumber as well. His horrified screams could be heard all over the house, alarming everyone trying to get a good night’s rest. The former pharaoh was startled by the stressful look in his friend’s face and checked if he was okay. Philip honestly couldn’t hide how he was feeling, but didn’t explain it to him fully until everyone else went inside their shared bedroom.

Mari has never seen him this stressed out (beside crunch time on news article deadlines and getting confused over modern day things) in the 11 months they have been together, she had sat beside him and sheepishly held onto his hand as a calming measure. Kirby, saddened to see him in the state he was in, flew onto his bed and hugged him by the side of his torso.

“Hey, what’s happening to you, mate?” Harry questioned him, sensing that there must be something that left him this freaked out.

“Yeah, we want to know why,” Kairi chimed in.

“Come on, Philip, there is never a bad thing to admit it,” Mari gently reminded him, “We’re all ears for you.”

“Nightmares, those nightmares of that duel, agh!” he groaned in agony, “I never thought of reliving those awful memories of it all over again. I didn’t expect it to send my family on a downward slope after that. It was horrible to think about it in your sleep.”

“Well, you told us all about it many times for a long time now, still there is no need to hold back just because of some a-hole trying to peg down your dad like that and shoot you in return,” Mari sighed, not knowing what else to say in return and trying to fight back in tears from her eyes.

“Philip, please don’t feel bad about that. I know that it was very foolish of both you and that Eacker guy to try to shoot each other over a speech and just sort those issues out yourselves, but honestly, I didn’t think that it was all your fault,” Issa tried to reassure him, “Besides, he’s already dead and probably regretting that he shouldn’t harass your father with that speech in the first place.”

“Your father sounds like a very important man indeed, Philip,” Ahk pointed out, “You and your siblings must have looked up to him so much. He have done some messed up things in the past like that affair thing, yes, but never a horribly terrible person at all. I would have loved to ask him questions about how he helped out in freeing and growing this nation and independence with several like-minded men.”

“Poyo...” Kirby sniffed in sympathy as he cried.

“Look, Philip dear. The past is the past, we know that we couldn’t turn back the hands of time to stop it from happening, even the Doctor couldn’t stop it in a couple of cases whenever he goes time-traveling. But it doesn’t mean that you should never be defined by those events. You got this second chance in life and you can still enjoy life even more than ever, so you shouldn’t worry about everything the second time around,” Mari calmly reassured her dearest beloved before remembering something similar that had happened to some friends a year ago, “Funny enough, this whole situation you’re in is quite similar to Marina’s case: Dyl’s friends at the Fortress Team found her unconscious by the sea and couldn’t find anyone willing to pick her up and look after her until Dylan and Lucoa (and later Lady Palutena) stepped in and took her into their large family. Even she was struggling with recovering from her past mistakes for some time, but since you came back and befriended her, she doesn’t have to worry too much about them. She still gets nightmares once in a while, but beyond that, she is doing well.”

“Well, I suppose that I should follow her example then?” he meekly asked her and everyone else in the room.

“I don’t see a problem with that, Pip,” Issa smiled back in response, “She was the first person to reach out to you since you made that public reveal of your return, so she is likely to listen all about it.”

“Since you did in a way helped her recover from her past mistakes and get help from her folks, perhaps we can contact Dylan, Lucoa, and Lady Palutena by morning and see if she can drop by to help you out as well,” Harry added, “Or you can talk to me as well. I have been through a lot of trauma in my life as well, especially with the Killing Cruse, the Horcrux Hunt, the Battle of Hogwarts, and after I disown my canon realm for good. Seriously, if you have some nightmares again, just let us know: we’re all here for you and Mari is always there for you as much as you’re always there for her.

The kind support and reception he is receiving are too overwhelming yet welcoming as everyone gathered around him to give him a warm hug, Mari’s being the tightest of all. He never felt this much closer to home than with this unlikely group of people, animals, and what have you, but it is probably true in a way. It might tempting to ask Ahk to bring his folks back to the world of the living, but that would too much hassle and trouble to ask for. The whole 11 months felt like quite a wild ride for sure and yet it is the most fulfilling he has ever lived through, and he couldn’t ask for more than find his place among these strange modern day waters and have an amazing life with his new unlikely ‘family’ and his beloved darling.

The End

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lizzzweasley · 5 years ago

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Love Potion (George x Reader)

So guys this is my first (maybe my last) attempt at writing! Please enjoy it! You all inspire me so much in this and I couldn’t of done it without each and every one of you. This is very long, I tied to put in a lot of detail and of course had a lot of ideas! ❤️

———————

You are scoping over the platform, looking for angelica, looking quite nervous as you’re walking closer to the train, and closer to the Twins.

George taps Fred on the chest with the back of his hand and uses his head to motion in your direction.

“Too pretty for you, mate” Fred says jokingly.

She doesn’t even stop to say hi, she just drops her bags onto the floor, and practically throws herself on to you, and into a hug, which makes you drop your bags.

“Let’s go find a cabin, before the good ones get taken” she said jokingly with a wink

“You’re starting to sound like Penelope” you giggled.

You grabbed hold of your heavy bags and hoist them onto the train.

You wheel your bags down the carriage and straight to the back of the train

You look out the window and see the back of the Twins, waving their mother goodbye, they then turned, you saw George’s face, thought of that wink, and smiled.

“He’s so hot” Angelica said, talking about Fred

“Yeah he is” you respond, talking about George

Neither of you took in what the other said, you were both too busy looking at the boys.

The second whistle indicated that you were (about 30 seconds) from setting off.

“I think we will be getting ready to set off soon!” Angelica said excitedly

The last of the students hurried on to the train and squeezed into full cabins.

“Do anything fun this summer, y/n” Angelica asked, genuinely interested

“Not really, no, summer school you know, got to keep up with the Muggle studies as well as the Magic ones, you know my grandma” you said rather straight “what about you?” You asked Angelica

“Oh my summer was amazing y/n! Did a lot of shopping, went to the quidditch World Cup, caught up with my family, it has been great! Book free!” She excitedly said

The second train whistle blew, it was 11am.

“Best get comfy” you said to Angelica, these train rides seemed to get longer the more years you had been at Hogwarts, it felt like home, and you couldn’t wait to go home.

The “trolley lady” usually started her rounds about half an hour into the journey, she liked to give people time to get settled, but more so, get hungry.

“So, did you get to talk to Fr..” you were cut off

“ANNNNNNNNYTHING OFF THE TROLLEY DEARZZZZZ” you hear a deep voice shout.

“That can’t be her” you said checking your watch “it’s not even half past yet”

“ANNNNNNNNYTHING OFF THE TROLLEY.... DEARZZZZ” you hear the voice say again, you open the cabin door and there is Fred and George Weasley, mimicking the trolley lady, with a brief case full of joke items.