#Best TV repair Shop | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ambrosiaaddiction · 3 months ago

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The Princess and The Tool

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ repair man!Simon Riley x curvy!Y/N

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: None other than Simon’s just a man, and his thoughts start to wander.

₊˚ପ⊹ Part 1

₊˚ପ⊹ Word count: 2.5k

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: Y/N and her best friend have finished unpacking in their new apartment. However, in the span of two months, more and more problems have occurred. Simon Riley is one of the several repair men in the area, and he’s sent over as a last resort to provide the solutions.

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Y/N was the most independent woman known to her family and friends. She was headstrong, had an incredible work ethic, and always looked after those who were close to her. As the youngest of two children, she took it upon herself to learn valuable life skills rather than wait until she was older. While her childhood wasn’t like what she had seen in movies and tv shows, Y/N never lost hope.

Y/N and her best friend, Luna, have known each other since freshman year of high school, and their friendship was nearing a decade. They were now in their early twenties, and they decided to proceed with their plan of moving together into their first apartment.

Although, Y/N had noticed a couple of things that seemed kind of worrying. She soon realized that the previous owner hadn’t taken great care of it when they lived there. A singular step on the staircase wasn’t properly bolstered, which led to the poor woman getting her foot stuck in the hole. She fell forward with a loud bang, and silence fell upon her roommate and herself.

“Are you still alive?” Luna joked as she stared at her best friend’s fallen body at the top of the staircase. Luckily, Y/N wasn’t injured judging by the laugh of disbelief that fell from her lips.

The worst of them was when the breaker shut off and neither of them were home. Y/N urged Luna to send a work order to the people in charge of repairs. The following week, the first man to check the breaker was no help whatsoever. He stared at the breaker for five minutes, shrugged at Luna, and left.

So Y/N sent a message herself, which was taken more seriously than her roommate’s. Little did she know who would be the one to come to the rescue.

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Y/N and Luna were planning on how to spend their afternoon together. Unbeknownst to either of them, there was a man parked outside of the apartment and sitting on a golf cart. Luna had her back turned to him, phone nestled between her cheek and shoulder as she locked the door. She almost walked past him until he called out to her, which pulled her attention to him. She put her phone against her chest, startled and embarrassed that she actually didn’t see him.

“I’m so sorry! I had no idea you were waiting here!” Luna’s face was reddened with a deep blush as she apologized profusely. The man chuckled in response, not really offended by her reaction. It sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. “S’alright. I tried callin’ ya, but I’m glad I caught ya before ya left.” He had a thick English accent, and his voice only caused her blush to worsen.

He rose to his feet, easily towering over her, the lower half of his face adorned with a scar running across his lips and chin. Like the other maintenance men that arrived at their apartment before him, he wore the standard uniform. Khaki shorts that hugged his muscular thighs, a standard cobalt blue uniform t-shirt that stretched tightly around his broad chest, and he had short cropped blonde hair. On his left arm, he had a full sleeve of black and white tattoos.

A few seconds later, Y/N drove up to the empty parking spot and turned off the car engine. Her eyes widened at the welcome sight of the repair man standing in front of her roommate. She got out of her car, making sure to lock the doors more than once as she made her way over. “Hello! We didn’t know what time you would be here, so we figured we would go for a little shopping trip.” Y/N explained as she waved to him with a warm smile.

In the back of his mind, Simon thought that he was lucky to be around two beautiful women. But that wasn’t the reason why he was outside of their shared apartment this morning. “Oh? Well, name’s Simon Riley, and I hope tha’ I can help you ladies with any issues.” He introduced himself, and gently shook Y/N’s much smaller hand. “I’m Y/N, and she’s Luna. She’s my best friend/roommate.” She replied in kindness, and her roommate smiled up towards Simon.

He shook Luna’s hand as well, the soft crow’s feet by his eyes crinkling with a wide smile of his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” With introductions were out of the way, Simon followed the two of them inside the apartment. He also noticed their similar styles. Y/N wore black spandex that stopped mid-thigh with a baggy t-shirt, and black Nike slides. Luna, on the other hand, wore ripped denim shorts, a black video game t-shirt, and black combat boots.

“My roommate told me that when she came home, everything was turned off.” Y/N began to explain as she stood against the wall adjacent to the circuit breaker. “We have no idea why or how the breaker tripped when neither of us were home.” Luna added with a shrug and watched Simon turn on his flashlight.

He nodded in acknowledgement of their concerns then rolled his eyes at the mention of his co-worker not being any help whatsoever. He wasn’t surprised, but he was glad that he had the opportunity to prove he was more experienced. “So it turns out that there’s a loose screw. Chances are that it was caused by the storm we had recently.” Simon concluded as he switched off his flashlight and sighed.

Y/N and Luna looked at each other, the both of them silently communicating before laughing. “That’s it? Just a loose screw?” Luna asked mid giggle, and Y/N laughed a bit harder. “And here we thought that we were going crazy.” Luna shook her head before sighing softly. Y/N soon calmed down then noticed how Simon’s gaze lingered on her. She cleared her throat, straightening her posture and tilting her head slightly to the side with a smile.

Simon quickly tore his eyes away, cursing at himself for getting distracted by a gorgeous woman who was clearly younger than him. “Was there anything else that you needed help with?” He asked Luna, who nodded and was aware of how he stared at Y/N. “Yeah, the paint is peeling off in her bathroom, and there’s like, mold in the corner of my bathtub.” She replied, glancing at her best friend for confirmation.

“Also, one of the stairs at the top has the carpet lifting.” Y/N added, which caused Simon to furrow his brows. The more he learned about the negligence of his co-workers, the more disappointed he became. “She got her foot caught in the hole and fell on her face.” Luna piped up, and Simon’s eyes widened. “What? You fell?” His scarred lips morphed into a sneer, but it wasn’t directed towards either of the women.

How dare the other repair men be so careless? They should’ve done a routine check before approving that everything was safe. Especially with two sweet women who just moved into their very first apartment. Simon’s intense glare could’ve burned a hole in the floor.

“I’ll show you where exactly the paint is peeling.” Y/N walked past Simon, and he caught a whiff of her perfume. It suited her perfectly; there were notes of vanilla, sandalwood, and peony. Soft, feminine, and certainly alluring as he followed after her up the stairs. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at her hands that were covering her ass out of courtesy. A part of him wished he was able to see it jiggle with every step she took.

Y/N claimed the master bedroom for herself. It was spacious; the king size bed was against the furthest wall from the door, a singular window with grayish-blue and sheer curtains was on the right side of the bed, the tv was mounted on the opposite side, and there was a shelf that served as a temporary night stand. A very simple setup for Y/N until she bought more furniture.

She turned on the light in the bathroom, and Simon was right behind her. Y/N had chosen to go with a black and white aesthetic. The shower curtain had a deep green leaf print, and there was also a toilet overhead shelf. Facing the toilet were matching black fluffy towels, and two checkerboard print hand towels side-by-side. It almost a tight fit with his bigger stature taking up most of the space.

“I didn’t really think of it as a big deal at first,” Y/N pointed at the top of the tile wall next to the shower head. “But I did want to have it redone before it could peel even more.” Her lips formed a soft pout, and Simon had to fight the urge to stare at them.

He had to stand behind Y/N, and the smell of her perfume filled his nostrils again. “I see. I’ll have it lookin’ brand new, I promise.” His voice rumbled in his chest as he leaned closer to assess where the paint was coming off.

But it was impossible to stop his mind from wandering. Simon pictured her covered in bubbles as she bathed. Her skin glistened from the warm water, aromatics wafted in the air, and her sultry gaze met the hunger brewing behind his eyes. Her hand slid down her soapy tits and disappeared underneath the water. Her plump lips parted to moan out his name as her back arched in pleasure.

What pulled him out of his naughty fantasy was when Y/N lost her footing leaning too far over the tub. She yelped in surprise, and his fast reflexes caught her before she fell. They stayed like that, his thick strong arms wrapped firmly around her waist to keep her upright. Y/N’s heart was pounding in her ears, and she had to ignore where his fingers were gently pressing into her skin through her t-shirt.

“Careful, love,” he whispered in her ear. “Wouldn’t want you hurting tha’ pretty head o’ yours.” Y/N would’ve melted right then and there if it weren’t for Simon supporting her weight. It was both amazing and flattering that he wasn’t struggling to hold her up.

“Thank you, Simon.” She whispered back, her voice slightly trembling as he carefully helped her stand on her feet again. “You’re welcome, princess.” He chuckled at the sight of her adorable blush. Y/N wasn’t sure how to recover mentally and emotionally from what just happened.

Luna eventually came upstairs to check on them, and with one look on Y/N’s face, she immediately put the pieces together. “So… will you be able to start painting the wall today?” Luna spoke up after a few moments of awkward silence passed. Simon’s mind was reeling as he turned to the other woman, and his hands were itching to feel Y/N again. “I’d have to come back on another since I don’t have the right tools with me. But let me take a look at your tub.”

They then left Y/N’s room, went down the stairs, and made their way to Luna’s bathroom. Compared to the Y/N’s bathroom, hers was an all blue aesthetic. Beside the tub was a soft navy blue bath mat. Luna’s shower curtain had a continuous pattern of navy blue teardrops in the form of circles. She pulled the shower curtain to the right, revealing her personal hygiene care and the corner with mold buildup.

“I noticed it a couple of days ago, but I couldn’t clean it off.” Luna gestured to the left corner of the bathtub next to the faucet. Simon’s eyes followed the direction of where she was pointing, and he understood why she felt somewhat frustrated. “Not even the scrub daddy could remove whatever that is.”

“It shouldn’t take me too long to caulk and re-paint that corner.” Simon reassured her, his hand pulling out his phone from his pocket to take a picture the mold. “I’ll care take of this on my next availability before moving up so I can re-paint your wall, too.” He said to Y/N after standing up to his full height. It was almost comical how he looked so out of place in Luna’s bathroom. Almost. If he wanted, he could have Y/N pinned against the wall and keep her there until he was done with her.

Simon waited for the roommates to leave the bathroom first, making sure to turn the light off as he walked away. “Alright,” he began once they gathered in the kitchen. “Just to be clear—replace the breaker, paint the bathroom wall, re-caulk the bathtub corner, and fix the stair. Does that sound right to you ladies?” Y/N and Luna nodded at the same time, pleased to hear that Simon remembered what needed to be taken care of.

“Yup! I don’t think there’s anything else.” Y/N beamed at Simon, and he swore he felt his chest tighten. She was beautiful, had a wonderful personality, and now she would plague his thoughts from now on. “Good, good. I’ll start on the breaker, so I won’t keep you waiting too long.” He turned around to leave, closing the front door behind him.

Luna waited until his footsteps receded and that he was out of earshot. “Girl, we got a man who knows what he’s doing. And he’s attractive!” Luna softly gushed to Y/N, and they both giggled. “His tattoos and arms, though? I’d let him put me in a chokehold any day.” Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile at her best friend’s comments. She recalled the moment when he had her in his tight embrace. Simon truly was a good-looking man despite his height and scars.

Half an hour later, Simon returned and finished replacing the breaker with an entirely new one. He took a step back to ensure that it wasn’t loose on any side, and nodded in satisfaction. “Yeah, tha’ should do it.” He hummed, pleased with himself for completing the task. Y/N and Luna were also pleased that he knew what he was doing—unlike his co-workers. “Like I mentioned earlier,” Simon spoke as he shut the breaker door, “I’ll come back to re-caulk and re-paint in both of your bathrooms.”

“Would it be possible for you to come in the morning? I’ll be available, but Y/N has work at night.” Luna questioned him as they all hovered near the now open front door. The women could tell that his visit was ending soon, and they were grateful for his help. “I can be here at ten o’clock sharp.” Simon readily agreed to her request, but a part of him was disappointed that he’d miss out on seeing Y/N again. “I’ll also give you a call to let you know that I’m on my way.”

“Perfect! Thank you for your help, and I hope you have a great afternoon!” Y/N waved goodbye, her (e/c) eyes shining in the sunlight. Her smile must be protected at all costs, kept away from the evil of the world. Simon returned the gesture before he winked at her. “No problem, love. Likewise.” And with that, he got into his golf cart then drove away.

Y/N and Luna stood in the doorway, completely shell-shocked by what unfolded. “What just happened?” Y/N whispered to her best friend, who honestly didn’t have an answer. “I’m pretty sure he finds you attractive.” Luna replied before shutting the front door and locking it. “Oh, my god, he finds you attractive!” She squealed with excitement, gently shaking Y/N’s arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you everything that happens tomorrow when you’re at work.” Luna promised her because that’s what good best friends do.

When Y/N gathered her once scrambled thoughts, she grabbed her purse from the kitchen island. “We’re going shopping, and you’re driving.” Luna let out a dramatic groan, but didn’t complain about being the designated driver. “Okay, let’s go.” She put her bag over her shoulder, took out her keys, and the two best friends left to do some retail therapy.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #simon riley cod #this took me two days

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giamee · 7 months ago

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𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🎐 )

even though you don't talk, they'll still find a way to listen

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | mute reader, jus some fluff really, bit on the short side

requested by @/anon

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ ok i should nawtttt have used this colour scheme im squinting like a rat at my screen tryna see what i'm saying. the title is 'cigarettes out the window' (shoutout tv girl) if u couldnt read it which i do not hold against u

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GEPARD.

it's simply in his nature to look out for others, to ensure that everyone is alright. and when he meets you, he's thrown for a loop a little. because you are fine.

the first time he sees you is in serval's workshop- you're just leaving, and something compels him to make sure that he speaks to you, even if it's for a few fleeting moments before you leave and he most likely never sees you again.

it's a simple question of how your day is, but you simply offer him a small smile before ducking past him, scurrying out of the door that he held open.

he's puzzled at first- maybe it's something to do with him? did you not want to talk to him? but then his sister explains that you're mute, and now he feels like a fool.

and thus begins his attempts to talk to you.

he writes you little notes to begin with. luckily for him, you're a regular at serval's shop, always seemingly having some device or another broken and in need of repairing. serval rolls her eyes at the pair of you- at gepard for being an idiot (you can still hear, you don't need notes), and at you for your attempts to run into her brother as often as possible (those machines weren't really broken).

despite this, it was somewhat amusing to watch the pair of you attempt to flirt with each other. and somewhat cute when your attempts worked.

you kept each and every one of gepard's notes to you, as redundant as they were. his handwriting was a little scruffy, and if you looked at them hard enough you could spot the little tremors where he tried to make the lettering neat.

a special treat was when he decided to add little doodles to them. it was anyone's guess as to what they were supposed to be- you were pretty sure that one of them was supposed to be you- and your heart warmed amidst the chicken scratch and stick figures.

you decide to write your own note back to him. in the top right corner is a little sketch of him, on a similar level to his own creations, that you hope he'll appreciate alongside the note.

you give it to him along with your best smile, mentally capturing the look of joy on gepard's fave at your little gift to him. you were gone by then, shyness overtaking your urge to stay, so you could only imagined his face when he realised that what you had written to him was a formal request to take him out on a date.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DAN HENG.

for dan heng to open up to someone new, several criteria have to be met.

for starters, he had to be at least a little bit comfortable around you. receptive, but not too probing or overbearing. rational, but not judgmental. open, but not too much.

in many ways, he was like a cat. you had to let him come to you.

and luckily for you, you seemed to fulfil those criteria.

as one of the newest additions to the astral express, you were in some sort of in-between phase of being one of them and a stranger. you communicated in your own ways, but you found yourself withdrawing to your room. it was overwhelming, this new environment.

it was only natural that you felt more drawn to dan heng more than anyone else. he had similar qualities to you- more introverted, tended to keep to himself. and, as you later found out, you both had a tendency to burn the midnight oil.

it became almost routine to run into him when you're both up late, wandering the astral express for some peace of mind. brief encounters with little nods sent your direction gradually evolved into longer moments spent basking in each other's presence, mostly in silence. but not always.

you both had your reasons to be up late- on the nights where dan heng looked more frazzled, a certain look in his eye, is when you began to piece him together.

he'd lend you some information of his own volition occasionally, telling you about the nightmare he had, recurring or not. there was just this certain quality to you, a look in your eye that made him feel like you truly did listen to him.

and he wouldn't trade your late-night rendevous for the world.

𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist

#୨୧ gia.txt :: gepard #୨୧ gia.txt :: dan heng #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail x reader #hsr gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #gepard x reader #gepard fluff #gepard landau fluff #hsr gepard fluff #hsr dan heng x reader #dan heng fluff #dan heng x reader #dan heng x reader fluff

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half-dead-ham · 2 days ago

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Tim Drake's I.E.F chapter 2

[Previous chap][Ao3 chap][Masterlist][next chap]

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Going in alone wasn't his best idea, but maybe he wasn't alone?

The last month has been weird for Tim.

His days have been mostly normal, conference meetings and emails for WE, school, and family drama were all as okay as usual. His nightlife, however, was driving him crazy, for multiple reasons. Well, mainly just two reasons.

The first reason was the big case he was working on. Department store robberies and break & enters focusing on electronics have been popping up throughout Old Gotham and the City Hall District. Reports say the goods just vanish from sight, only to reappear on the black market. The fact that security cameras and motion sensors in the stores can't detect the perps means that Tim is either working with advanced camouflaging tech, or a meta. He hopes it isn't a meta… Either way he can't find them and it's giving him a massive headache.

The second reason is the thing that's been following him almost since the beginning of the case. It started with one of the robberies, either the third or fourth. Tim had gotten a call from the GCPD about a theft at an older repair shop with the same M.O. as a few of the previous thefts they've gotten over the week, and the officers wanted help looking for evidence. He showed up and they took him behind the counter to show him the—frankly piss-poor quality—CCTV footage.

It didn't make sense, one minute the parts were there, old stereos and DVD players lining the shelves, and the next poof! They had vanished. It had Tim replaying the tape—literal tape!—over and over to try and see through the pixely mess for anything useful. By the fourth replay he was getting a tension migraine and the officers that had directed him to the tube TV displaying it had moved on to other parts of the shop.

He felt it then. A cold… something bumps the back of his head. Too cold for any living person, short of Mr. Freeze, had any right to be. He whipped around expecting for the officers to be tied up, a gun at his head, something different that he hadn't noticed because he was too focused on the damn tape. But he found nothing. The cops were still looking at the shelves and racks lined with spare parts, the lights of their cars still flashing through the floor to ceiling storefront windows.

Tim was reeling.

He was sure he felt something, he was sure! He could still feel something, a chill creeping down the back of his spine and an extra set of eyes on him he couldn't account for by where the officers were standing. Just to make sure he did a few sweeps of the shop with the different view modes built into the lenses in his domino mask.

He forgot the fact that what had touched him was cold due to lack of sleep and hadn't switched to infrared. If he had he would have seen a person sized cold spot floating above him.

'Lack of sleep must be getting to me more than I thought.' He had to grumble at the voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Dick telling him that coffee wasn't a sleep substitute and he was 'a growing boy that needs his rest!'

He ignored that voice and turned back to the tapes, still feeling the eyes on him.

After that it became a regular thing, the cops would tell him about another robbery, he'd show up, then after a little while he'd get that cold creep up his spine and feel that invisible set of eyes on him. It was honestly driving Tim more crazy than the 'ghost thieves' as the GCPD were calling them. A few times he thought he could see something out of the corner of his eye, a flash of white and black, an extra silhouetted reflection above and behind him in a window or mirror. He knew something was following him.

The eighth time it showed up it wasn't at a crime scene, he was perched on a rooftop near the clock tower, enjoying the view, when he felt those—by now—familiar eyes on him. With a better view to the open space he tried to get a look at the thing following him (this time switching to inflated even!) but as it was already mid fall it was too cold to get a good reading up so high at this time of night.

'Why is it so insistent on following me?' he thought exasperatedly. It wasn't like he was one of the more interesting vigilantes in Gotham. From the way this creature felt (predatory, like a wolf stalking a deer) it would probably have loads more fun stalking Jason, or maybe it'd like Dick more, with his funny quips and fluid movements. Tim was… he was Tim, the smart one, but he wasn't very flashy or enthusiastic about what he does. He was just one of the bats, the replacement, and not a very good one if he got replaced.

A snowflake landed on Tim's nose, startling him out of his depressive spiral. He looked up, wondering how long he had been like that, when two things occurred to him. One, it was late September, it wasn't due to snow for at least two more months, it couldn't be snowing unless one of the colder rouges got out of Arkham and decided to build another weather machine. Two, the thing. It was right next to him. He could feel it watching him. It was… was it worried for Tim? Had it noticed Tim going down a bad train of thought and decided to startle him out of it… with a snowflake?

He discreetly inches his hand over to where he thought the creature was beside him, but only came into contact with the cornice underneath them. Retracting his hand, he let his legs drop out from under him, going from a crouch to a sit and letting the circulation back into his feet. He looked out into Gotham and watched the lights of the cars travel underneath them. It was peaceful, until Oracle called him about a shooting two blocks west of his location.

The being stuck with him until his patrol ended, and by the end of the night he figured even if the thing was creepy and following him, he didn't mind the company.

Then he told Dick about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim was riding to his stakeout spot when he felt the presence come up beside him. He no longer thought it was malicious, despite how weird it felt, and he had noticed a few more times of the thing trying to be useful while on patrol; tripping up thugs, redirecting stray bullets away from him, highlighting clues during an investigation (he still doesn't know how it made the weapon actually glow.) It was nice knowing someone had his back that weren't his annoying siblings, who still thought he was making the thing up.

He stopped two blocks down from the electronic store his contacts had told him would be targeted tonight and set off to don't a good vantage point. The bakery across the street wasn't ideal, but it had a good view and a large enough smoke stack that he could easily hide behind if needed, so he went around the back to the fire escape. Two attempts was all it took to get the ladder clanging to the alley pavement, and knowing his family he'd be getting called rusty or a disgrace by at least two of them if they knew he didn't get it on the first try.

The bloom of frost on the back of his neck made him shiver and refocused his thoughts back on the mission. He scaled up to the first landing and resecured the ladder to its upright position, then went the rest of the way two rungs at a time. He hopped up onto the back ledge of the building and strides across to the front, booting up the security bypass coding feature to connect him to the CCTV footage of the store in front of him.

He worked to get all the cams up in a grid then waited, absently noticing the cold presence floating in loose circles around his head. The sounds of Gotham's nightlife has his mind wandering as he went back to the morning he accidentally told Dick about his patrol company.

"Awwwee, Timmy has an imaginary friend!" He'd exclaimed, getting the attention of the rest of the breakfast table.

Stephanie, lovable Stephanie, burst into a guffawing laughter, Duke barely restraining his giggles behind his hand. Damian had just sent him a scowl for interrupting the peace.

"It's not imaginary, Dick, the thing following me is real! It landed a snowflake on my nose last night. It's September! We won't have snow for another two months! Explain how that could have happened Dick." He crossed his arms and sat back in his chair.

"You sure you weren't just imagining it?" He countered with a stupid, stupid smirk.

Tim did not pout, he didn't, especially when the other two burst into another fit of unchecked laughter. Knowing he wouldn't get anywhere with them, he decided to take his death wish coffee back to his room to answer some company emails.

The alarm blaring from the store in front of him brought him back out of his reminiscence, realzing he'd only been half paying attention to the security feed, and that the cold spot was now right over his shoulder.

A silent curse was all he gave before standing up, -the cold floating off a bit- and pressing the button on his comms to an open channel.

"Oracle, it's RR." The comms popped and came to life with a response.

"Red, I'm guessing you couldn't see anything on the CCTV footage?"

He was hoping the better equipped Oracle had noticed something, but with the tone of her voice, that wasn't the case.

"So you didn't see anything either?" He replied with a groan. So much for that lead. Walking a few paces away from the cornice he groaned, "what kind of tech could hide someone from all the cameras in there?"

No reply meant Oracle was just as stumped as he was, and after a pregnant pause he murmured "you think it could be a meta?"

Continuing with the thought would only give him another headache, but he couldn't dismiss the possibility. "That could be why we didn't even see the goods getting moved," he added on.

"That's a worrying possibility, but even metas leave traces. Maybe something will come up during the investigation this time? See what you can find."

"I'll try, but I don't know how much I'll find even if I can see them," was all he could say in reply. It was sad how little he'd been able to get during the last dozen investigations, and he doubts it'll be different for this one.

He was alerting the police while keeping up the conversation with Oracle when he felt something go through him. He couldn't suppress the full body shudder he had to the sensation. It was like someone had poured ice water down his front and caught it with a towel before it could reach his leg, and he did not like that.

He breathed out a wheezy "what the fuck?" Before needing to stumble back on stiff knees.

"RR, are you okay? What happened?" It was so sudden he couldn't shut his comm off. Great, now he needed to explain to Oracle what was happening.

Shakily he sputtered "I-I'm f-f-fine. My patrol buddy just gave me the worst heebie-jeebies e-ever."

"Patrol buddy? Tim, no one's in your vicinity to be on patrol with you, who are you talking about?"

"Oh, are we talking about Timmy's imaginary friend again?" Dick broke in, stupid open channel, stupid slow crime night.

"Imaginary friend? Tim, are you okay, you told us you were getting enough sleep after patrols." The worry in her voice would have been comforting if he couldn't hear Dick's smarmy smirk all the way from Blüdhaven.

"Don't worry O, Timmers' here is just finally getting to be a kid again," Dick explained lightly. Tim wanted to strangle him right now, the concern radiating from Barbara's end was not helping.

"I don't know Dick, this could be something bad, what if he's hallucinating due to lack of sleep? It's happened more than once already."

Tim snapped at that. "The amount of sleep I'm getting is neither of your concerns! Just because I'm getting less than recommended doesn't mean none at all. And no I am not hallucinating! I just felt something go through me and nothing's here! I'm-" He was cut off by Dick saying something about a cold with all the shivering he was doing but he quickly cut that off.

"No I'm not coming down with something Dick!" He shouted into the comm. He was tired of his family making fun of him for being stalked. Sure, the thing stalking him may be friendly, and may help him get out of spiralling thoughts, but it could be a spy! Or an evil alien come to replace him! Or one of their rouges' new secret weapons! And they're laughing about him having an imaginary friend! That was all kinds of degrading he didn't want to have on him.

Before he could get another word out his wrist computer beeped. Stunned and confused to silence, Tim raised his gauntlet to show that, somehow, his tracker was travelling away from him and towards the docks.

He was still on the same roof he was on half an hour ago.

"What?" Was what came out of his mouth, mentally followed by a 'the fuck?' as he watched the little blinking light speed through the grid representing Gotham's street system. Frowning further he stuck his other hand into the front left pouch in his utility belt, the one that normally held the tracker. He felt around in it as though the pouch was deeper than a few fingers, and pulled back his gloved hand with nothing in it. His tracking bug wasn't in his belt. Remembering the full body chill he got moments before, he realized the sensation ended just below his belt.

Where his tracker used to be.

His head shot up, swivelling and searching for something he knows he won't find with his eyes. The cold spot had travelled to the back of the building and was slowly making its way back to him, coming from the sound of screeching tires it wasn't hard to make the connection.

His buddy just put a lead in his lap, and damn if Tim wasn't going to take it.

Interrupting whatever lame spiel Dick was ranting about, Tim cut in.

"Guys, I think I got a lead." He was met with a few seconds of dead air before both Dick and Babs blew up on him.

"What?!- How?!- When did you see them?- Do you need backup?- how did you get sight of them if you were talking to us?-"

Tim cut them off again, he loved his family, but sometimes they could be loud.

"Something took my tracker. I don't know what has it but it's heading to the docks, I'm going to see where it's headed and maybe find some clues about either who took it, or that tech."

Dick spoke up, worry laced in his serious tone, "Tim this is a really good time to point out that this could be a trap. Whatever has your bug was able to take it off you without you noticing, maybe you should get someone to go with?"

The presence seemed to droop at Dick's worrying, if it really just gave him the one thing to bust this case open, he couldn't not go.

"I don't think it's a trap," he replied. "If what I think happened, then that thing that's stalking me might just have given me the lead I need to bust this case open. And yes I know you guys still don't believe me about the thing, but I've seen and felt too many things over the past month not to think something's keeping tabs on me."

While they couldn't see them, the hand gestures gave him some relief for his exasperation. Grumbling the last bit made him feel like he was talking to an older brother though, which, he guessed he was, technically.

"I'll be in Gotham soon for the weekend, radio me if anything, and I mean anything comes up, okay?" Dick's older brother qualities really shine through at times like these, making a spot in Tim's chest warm.

He sent a small reassuring "will do" through the channel before turning his comm off. He needed off that roof to follow the tracker, and even while rushing to his bike he kept glancing at his computer to make sure the bug wouldn't magically go offline.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finding the tracking bug wasn't all that difficult, when it finally stopped in a section of the docks known for shady deals and villain hideouts Tim had to ditch the bike in favour of the stealthier rooftop option. He really didn't want any other criminals noticing him, and even though the bike was quiet, it wasn't that quiet. Corrugated steel wasn't the best surface for freestyle parkour, but when you're part of the bat family you get used to it. The fact that it had rained earlier in the day meant he had to be extra careful with how he landed, if he didn't want to slip up between jumps.

His patrol buddy seemed to be getting more active the further they went into the area, feeling the cold spot circling around his head as though waiting for something to jump out, and Tim had to wonder if that was a good or bad thing. He hoped it was the first option.

Tim had to refocus as they bounded over another rooftop and came up on the warehouse in which his tracer had stopped in. It was lit up like a Christmas tree compared to the surrounding buildings, unnecessary, but a good first clue to what's going on inside.

Three guards, all armed with handguns, were positioned at the main entrances but weren't doing a very good job of being lookouts. Seemed like an amateur group, then, all the better. Amateurs in Gotham were stupid and overconfident, they didn't know how to handle the bats and were often brushed away as easily as Alfred sweeping up dust.

Finding an entry point was easy, after circling the building via adjacent rooftops Tim figured the open window in the rear end of the building, that probably led to an old office space, would be his best bet. He made sure there wasn't anyone in the room, then used his grapple gun to launch himself through the frame in such a way Dick would be proud of. Rolling on his shoulder and coming up in a crouch, he canvassed the room for bugs or weapons (empty as it was.) Finding nothing he crept his way out through the doorway and into the hallway.

The hallway held five more doors, most likely leading to more old offices, but unlike his entry point these frames all had their doors intact. Investigating to make sure the second floor was clear of people would be his first task, but a sound reverberating from the open end of the hallway had him creeping to the grated catwalk above the main part of the warehouse to investigate.

He gasped. 'This is it,' Tim thought as he observed the floor below, 'all of the stolen tech is right here!' Thirty men dressed in black and armed were sorting through gaming consoles, PC towers, camera equipment and other devices on his left. On his right were three vans, one with its back doors swung open, revealing the freshly stolen flatscreen displays they had pilfered from the electronic store only an hour before.

He watched it all, taking note of the stark white belts some of the goons wore and taking photos through his domino lenses. A quiet scuff behind him had Tim instinctively swerving out of the way of a lead pipe aimed for his head. Kicking out and catching his attacker on the shins, the thugs' forward momentum carried him face first into the iron mesh grate keeping them on the second floor. Tim smiled a little at the mental image of the guy going splat, but the humour was short lived as the impact of the fall had loosened the grunts grip of his still outstretched arm on his weapon. Causing the pipe to roll out of his hand, and falling down to the workspace below before Tim had a chance to catch it.

Shit.

The pipe landed with a loud echoing clang! as the whole warehouse went deathly quiet. Tim held his breath, hoping the ghost thieves would just go back to sorting their goods so he could hightail it outta there, but as a shot rang out and a bullet whizzed by his temple, he realized only the second part of that thought would be happening.

'Fuck fuck fuck fuck!' was all he could think as he raced full tilt back to the window that had let him in. Bullets and angry exclamations ringing through the air as he made his escape onto the rooftop across from him. Looking back to the main entrance Tim thought he would be safe for a few moments to catch his breath while they rallied together, until the doors crashed open and a mob of angry men stormed out of the building to give chase.

He needed to leave. Now.

Sprinting over the roof and bounding across the steep to the next overhang, Tim couldn't keep the shouting and gunshots out of his head. He stayed focused, knowing that the urge to get away and staying alive was overriding the freeze response that so badly wanted to lock his joints. Practice and experience were the only thing keeping his brain focused on launching himself and landing even as bullets sped past his form. A searing pain in his bicep bloomed as he came on a downward arc of a leap, followed by a ribbon of pain across his face, but he kept running.

Only when a burst of heat and pain shot through his chest did he finally lose enough focus to slip on a slick section of roofing, legs going out from under him and down the side of the building. His upper torso slammed onto the corrugated steel in a way that had him crying out as the pain raced through him, nearly blacking out. Weakly scrabbling to gain purchase along the sleek metal only made the pain in his arm scream and pulse louder through his head until there was nothing left to grab.

And so he fell.

Static buzzing accompanied the sound of rushing wind as Tim plummeted the thirty feet to the pavement below. He absently wondered where the buzz was coming from, alongside the thoughts of 'Dick's gonna kill me,' 'shit shit shit shit,' and 'Alfred will be crushed that I got crushed, heh.'

Before he could meet the unforgiving pavement rushing up to catch him, something grabbed his uninjured arm by the wrist. He thought he would be jerked to a stop until he felt a cool sensation wash over him, like he'd just chewed on a menthol candy. Then, as if by magic, Tim felt gravity lift off him like shaking off a weighted blanket. The buzzing only got louder as he was gently carried to the ground, legs collapsing on contact.

They were too weak to hold him up.

When he was held by the shoulders and positioned so his back was against the nearest wall, He realized belatedly that it was his patrol buddy.

It had caught him.

It was checking him over.

It was the source of that static buzzing he'd heard before.

Another sensation washed over him, this one of exhaustion, pain, and the feeling that it was safe. That he was protected. That he could close his eyes and everything would be okay when he opened them.

Before the darkness that encroached on his vision overtook him he saw a green light surrounding him, then a figure appeared. He was too exhausted to tell whether the figure was male or female, but he did notice a shock of snow white hair on an otherwise dark clothed body. As the figure stood and turned to meet the angry mob Tim got the last look at who he would later realize to be his patrol companion.

The static buzzing pulsed with the figure as they proceeded to expand. A swirling mass of black cloudy mist with white, glittering flecks rolled towards the other end of the alley like a thundercloud. The haze got too much for Tim to fight and the only thought that entered his addled mind was 'ah, beautiful.'

And then, Tim blacked out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Ao3][Prev][Next]

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #tim drake #dc x dp #ham writes #chapter fic #chapter 2

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discount-shades · 2 years ago

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Contract Spouse Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Living the Lie

A/N: to quote M*A*S*H “War isn’t Hell. War is war, and Hell is Hell. And of the two, war is a lot worse.”

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)

Warning: Angst, war, PTSD, civilian deaths, child death, nightmares

Length: 2100 ish

Summary: Jake and Pip settle into living together.

Previous Masterlist Next

Two weeks after you had settled into Jake's house in San Diego you were on the phone with Sami. Your almost daily phone calls with Jake had been replaced by phone calls to Sami. You look up from the pasta you were stirring on the stove as Jake walks through the side door. He goes to greet you but cuts himself off when he sees you are on the phone.

“Who is it?” You read his lips as he mouths the question and you mouth the answer back. “Hi Sami,” he calls out.

“Jake says hi,” you say with a resigned sigh. Relaying a conversation between the two siblings when you were on the phone with Jake had started very soon after the wedding and now that you were living with Jake, the habit had immediately resumed in reverse and you had long since given up trying to get them to talk to each other. Jake now sports a smile identical to the one Sami always had on her face during these conversations.

When you finally hang up the phone you roll your eyes at Jake. “You guys are ridiculous, I hate you both.”

“No you don’t,” he grins as he heads to his room to change out of his work clothes “You love us.”

“That's the problem.” You mumble to yourself as you dump the pasta into a serving dish and set the table before sitting down to dinner.

“I got two more quotes on redoing the roof,” you tell Jake between bites of alfredo. “I think we should go with the second, they’re more expensive but have better reviews and can begin sooner.”

“Whatever you think is best.” Jake shrugs, relieved you had taken over the repairs he had been too busy to arrange.

“And the contractor for the hot water tank called, he had a cancellation and can come replace ours tomorrow.” Jake just nods in confirmation and you fight a sigh.

The house that Jake had bought a few months ago, though overall in good shape, had needed a few updates and you had quickly taken over organizing them. Talking about hiring contractors over dinner makes you feel more married than you have ever felt before. The monotony of cohabitation made slipping into the rhythm of life together automatic.

Living with Jake was easy. You worked together seamlessly, easily dividing household chores and responsibilities. Chatting in the evenings, watching tv, or just sitting in silence reading. The two of you just fit together. He had even tolerated you reorganizing every drawer and shelf in the common spaces with minimal cursing over not being able to find things.

Life continues in the same thread. You and Jake grocery shopping, going for walks, cooking, and doing dishes, just easily living together. But as time went on you were finding it harder and harder.

Everyday you had to stifle your imagination as you pictured him coming through the door and giving you a kiss. The little part in your heart that you could never squish down was still hoping that one day Jake would look at you and fall in love.

The logical part tried to keep your breathing steady when Jake would brush past you in the kitchen. Tried to keep you from melting into his touch when he placed his hand on your lower back when you were walking together in public. Tried to keep from staring when you were together.

It didn’t help that Jake frequently walks around without his shirt. Whether it was first thing in the morning, after a shower, or after a run. You loved and hated it. When you said goodnight and went to your separate rooms you wanted to follow him into the master bedroom and finally end your embarrassingly long dry spell. You should have hooked up with your cute neighbor in your final days in Austin. Maybe that would have made things easier.

– – –

“Jake,” your voice startles him out of his sleep. He can hear you tapping gently on his door before easing it open. “We have a problem.”

“What's wrong?” he mumbles sleepily as he sits up in bed, squinting in the hall light shining through the open door. The rain from earlier is still lightly falling outside. “What time is it?”

“It’s a little after midnight, The roof is leaking.” You tell him, hair pulled up into a sloppy bun and pillow creases on your cheek. “I woke up in a puddle, it's coming through the light fixture above the bed.”

Jake mumbles curses. He had been sleeping soundly and would have likely been able to sleep the whole night if the roof hadn’t leaked. He helps you move the bed and set up a big rubbermaid bin under the leak to catch the dripping water while you strip the wet bedding off the mattress and throw it in the bathtub. You flip the breaker and he carefully removes the light so the water can fall directly into the bin without pooling, you dutifully hold the flashlight.

After you follow him into the attic to see where the leak is. Fortunately it is only in one spot and the rain has slowed to a stop. Using the towels you had so neatly organized, you help him mop up all the water you can. You place another bin under the main leak but it has slowed to a drip. Working next to you in the dimly lit attic, Jake realizes he never would have noticed the leak so soon if not for you.

“When are they supposed to fix the roof?” Jake asks you.

“Monday,” you say sadly and he sighs. “If you leave all the information for me I’ll call the insurance company tomorrow.”

He follows you down the ladder with the wet towels and throws them into the washing machine. You follow with the towels from your room. Your teeth chattering and he looks at you for the first time and notices that your pajamas are soaking wet.

“Pip you're going to get sick, go change.” You roll your eyes at him but comply and grab a dry pair of pajamas and head to the bathroom so you can leave your wet ones in the tub. When you come out of the bathroom he meets you in the hall. “I dumped the bin in your room, we should be good to go back to sleep.” You nod but don't follow him; grabbing your pillow you turn to go into the living room.

“Where are you going?”

“The couch.” You stare at him in confusion. “My mattress is soaked.”

“Yeah but mine's not.” You stand there staring at him and he suddenly feels like he has overstepped. The look in your eye is unreadable but you just agree quietly and follow him. When he reaches the bed and you crawl in beside him he feels his stomach clench. He can't remember the last time he slept next to someone, it's been years, definitely before the nightmares started. What if he moves and hits you, or says something he doesn’t want you to hear?

It’s awkward. As soon as he lies down beside you he feels the need to move and eases himself over to his other side. He can hear you rolling over when he does. You don’t say anything but he can tell you are tense. Maybe he shouldn't have insisted you share his bed. “Do you want to build a pillow wall?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You roll over again and he can feel your eyes on him. “Good night Jake.”

“Goodnight.” You stop moving but he can tell you are not asleep by your breathing. He listens and tries not to move but he can’t sleep if you are awake. He feels the bed shift every time you move and shuffle your feet. He stares into the dark hyper aware of you beside him, pretending to sleep before he finally breaks the silence. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“My feet are cold,” you tell him. “I can’t sleep with cold feet.”

Jake bites back a sigh and says the thing he doesn’t want to do. “You can put them on me.”

Your soft laugh almost makes it worthwhile. “I don’t think you mean that,” you counter. And he reaches down to feel your feet and immediately regrets his decision when he feels how icy they are.

“Come on,” he says resignedly and urges you to roll over so you can press your feet to his warm legs. When you settle he finds himself focusing on your cold toes to distract himself from the warmth coming from your body lying beside him.

As your feet warm he can feel the tension leave you as you relax into sleep, your breath slowing and evening out and soon he finds himself drifting off as well.

– – –

Maverick is carrying a lifeless Rooster in his arms. He is standing in the desert. Rubble and fire from a destroyed building around him. Blood is dripping down Rooster's extended arm and steadily falling from his fingertips and onto the dry sand. Jake stands, blood pounding in his ears with every drop that hits the ground. Maverick is speaking to him in a language he can't understand, repeating the same phrase.

When he realizes it’s weird to see Maverick cradling Rooster so easily everything seems to blur and when it clears there is now a father holding his young son in front of him. The boy's eyes are open and staring blankly at the sky. The man speaks but it is Maverick's voice he hears, “You shot at the wrong time, his death is your fault Hangman.” The man advances towards him brandishing the body of his dead son repeating the words in Maverick’s voice, becoming angrier and more grief-stricken with every repetition as Jake retreats, his heart pounding, unable to escape.

– – –

“No!” Jake sits up gasping. His heart is hammering wildly as he tries to breathe. He feels like there is a weight on his chest, contracting his lungs and keeping his ribcage from expanding. The image of the boy burned into his retinas.

“Jake?” The soft sound of your voice startles him and he flinches when he sees you move before pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Trying to rub away what he saw. Your hand is hesitant as it brushes against his back, gently moving and pressing his t-shirt into his sweat soaked skin. He wants to tell you to stop, that he doesn’t deserve comfort after what he did. He wants to get up and leave, but he doesn't. He just sits there frozen and focuses on the feeling of your warm hand smoothing over his spine as his breathing steadies. When the chill sets in he strips off the sweaty shirt and lies back down on his back.

“Nightmare?” you ask quietly already knowing the answer. He nods even though he is not sure you can see him. He’s told you about the nightmares, never why or what he sees but you know he has trouble sleeping. You're the only one who knows.

You lie on your side and he can feel your eyes in the dark. Unable to rub his back you place your hand on his chest and resume the relaxing motion. But the feel of your hand on his bare chest is too much and he stops you, flattening your hand to his heart. When you go to pull away he reaches up with his other hand and clutches your wrist, unwilling to let you go.

“Don’t go.” The words slip out before he can stop them and he clenches his jaw to keep from speaking more. He can feel you nod you head beside him. You slowly begin flexing your fingers and he relaxes the hand flattening yours and you begin to gently scratch his chest with your finger tips. He finally lets out a shuddering breath and shifts his grip on your wrist so he can feel your steady pulse.

“Breath with me,” you whisper. “Focus on my breaths.” he lies beside you and listens to you breathe and focuses on the feeling of your warm hand pressed to his heart and the gentle caress of your finger tips. He feels the butterfly kiss of your lips on his shoulder and his skin burns. Your soft breaths moves over his skin and his heart aches.

When your fingers stop moving he knows you are asleep but doesn’t let go of your hand, eventually he falls into a dreamless sleep listening to your soft breaths.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin/reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman/reader #top gun hangman #top gun fanfiction #topgun maverick #topgun hangman #top gun x reader #hangman topgun #topgun

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lieutenantfloyd · 1 year ago

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i LOVE the iceman dating headcannons - can we have cyclone dating headcannons pls 🙏🙏🙏 i am in such a cyclone mood atm it’s unbelievable

Dating headcanons — Beau "Cyclone" Simpson

Pairing: Beau "Cyclone" Simpson x reader

Warnings: Slight mentions of insecurities and trauma.

a/n: Hello and thank you! I really enjoyed writing this!

If you haven't already, please check out the general Cyclone headcanons I posted a while back, as there are more than a few references to them in this post!

The first several months of your relationship will be the toughest.

He's terribly guarded and has all but forgotten how to let anyone in.

You'll honestly just have to wait him out. Meeting him where he is and proving to him that you're in it for the long haul.

When he finally starts to let you in is when your relationship gets very serious.

He's quite traditional in how he views his (and only his!) role in a relationship.

On the flip side, he expects next to nothing from you and is wholly grateful for you even just being with him.

I headcanon that he's had to look after himself since a pretty early age, and is used to just kind of... getting by?

Like he's extremely put together on a professional front, but on a personal one, he's an "eating a shitty frozen microwave meal in front of the TV on a Friday night" kinda man.

Not that he couldn't take better care of himself, he just found putting all that effort in for one person a bit depressing.

Now given the opportunity, he's an absolute dream to date

He's paying all the bills, doing the home repairs/improvements, taking your car to the shop, etc.

If you protest this, he will sit you down and quite literally tell you that "your money is your money, and my money is also your money."

And like I said, he expects nothing in return.

However, if you do want to do something to make his life easier, like pack his lunch or iron his uniform, he'd be a goner.

It's also in these small gestures that he best shows his love.

Doing the tasks you dislike, knowing your preferences, anticipating the things you'll need to complete, and making your life just a bit easier is where he shines.

At each restaurant and cafe you go to he has your order memorized.

He is the best cook and will cook for you whenever he has time

He's totally the breakfast-in-bed type too!

Will probably have stayed up late the night before to bake a loaf of brioche for french toast, and will serve it to you on a fancy wooden breakfast tray (that he handmade) with a fresh flower from the garden because that's just the kind of man he is.

If you offer him any he'll refuse, instead preferring to have you fuss over him and his habit of having nothing but a single cup of black coffee for breakfast.

He will, however, accept bacon. Thick cut, cherry smoked.

His desk both on base and at home is covered in pictures of you.

Like Iceman, he isn't jealous, but very protective.

This is also the only point of contention in your relationship.

He has some insecurities and would be absolutely devastated If you were to vie for others' attention or flirt back with them.

Ironically, he absolutely loves to show you off; and will use any such occasion to spoil you.

Will tell you stories from his various deployments.

And cherishes the way you squeeze his hand when the tougher memories come back.

Very nearly worked himself into a worry the first time you were going to stay at his place.

Now he struggles to sleep without you beside him.

Loves nothing more than to cuddle up with you in bed or on the couch.

More often than not, you'll end your day just like that.

With the added bonus of him reading whatever book he's been reading aloud to you.

Will 100% take you on bookstore dates!

He'll order himself a coffee in the cafe before happily setting you free with his wallet.

Will happily carry and/or guard the stacks of books you pick out.

If you happen to pick out a book or two for him, he'll get almost bashful??

Knowing you not only cared enough but paid enough attention to his interests to know just what he'd like hits him directly in his soft spot.

Each year he takes you back home to Alaska.

It's one of the few times you get to see his personality shine in private and in public.

The trips are only a few weeks long at the most.

Although as the days pass, you both secretly hope to get snowed in for the whole winter.

These trips have spawned not only some of your favorite memories as a couple, but moving back there with you in tow has become his retirement plan.

! taglist !

@marchingicenotes7, @bayisdying, @princessofglitterland, @bella-law, @austin-butlers-gf, @callsignaries, @katesmadness, @dannyramirezwife, @oliviah-25, @luckyladycreator2, @shakira-sasha, @xoxabs88xox, @Criminalmindsandmarvel, @fanboyluvr, @alexxavicry, @madamemelancholysstuff, @paola-carter, @barbiewritesstuff, @dozcan123, @withakindheartx, @nyx2021, @teti-menchon0604

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sitp-recs · 7 months ago

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do you have a fic rec where harry healed his trauma and then he met draco who still feel so shameful about himself, so then harry helps draco to heal his war trauma? thanks in advance! 💓

Hi anon, what a great ask! I love the idea of them bonding over shared trauma, and I think the best fics exploring this theme are the ones showing that healing is in fact an ongoing (and often non-linear) process, in this sense they’re always healing together 🥹 here are some fics that came to mind, most are down & out Draco but not all of them. Enjoy!

Slow Hands by eleventy7 (T, 10k)

Blood, shadows, and paper hearts. The Shadow hunts students, but Draco Malfoy most of all.

Rebuilding Draco Malfoy by khasael (E, 11k)

Draco wants to do something to get his life back on track, but no-one seems to be taking him seriously – until he finds himself in an Auror training session led by Harry Potter.

Said and Unsaid (or, The Value of Knowing When to Stop Talking) by bryoneybrynn (T, 15k)

When the Interrogator asked if he had anything to say on his own behalf, Draco shook his head, his lips pressed tight in a thin line. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t sound like an excuse.

The Years That Walk Between by Femme (E, 16k) - past Draco/Snape

Draco finds his way after the war.

Between Myth and Man by slytherco (E, 16k)

Draco, lost and a little broken, navigates post-war reality convinced that people like him should not be allowed to make their own choices. To solve the problem of his self-sabotaging tendencies, he starts taking a few drops of Veritaserum every morning.

Benevolence and Redemption by silvered_glass (M, 19k)

Draco's the most unlikely Auror recruited to the department in at least three centuries. Ostracised and unwanted, he's been on paperwork duties for the three years since he finished training. Harry is the Saviour of the Wizarding World with nice forearms and too-large hands who suddenly starts turning up in the Ministry gym when Draco’s there, and sitting on Draco’s desk, and asking for Draco’s assistance on cases.

Vale Sanare by RurouniHime (M, 23k)

Draco’s world gains a new component just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.

Strange Bedfellows by ravenclawsquill (E, 30k)

When Harry encounters a frail and fidgety Draco Malfoy at the Ministry, he just knows something is wrong and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it. A story about Deadly Nightshade, crippling insomnia, excellent wine … and finding what you need in the strangest of circumstances.

Open For Repairs by FeelsForBreakfast (M, 5k)

After the war, Draco works at a tv repair shop and Harry breaks things. feat. sad boys in jumpers and more ABBA than is probably necessary

As Souls From Bodies Steal by Femme (E, 41k)

Hope may be found in the oddest of places, even in the bleakness of winter.

(We'll Call This Fixer-Upper) Home by @phdmama (E, 52k)

Draco Malfoy hasn’t set foot on English soil in ten years. After the war, he fled to America, where he found himself in a community, and healed himself through following his heart into music. He’s now the lead singer and songwriter for an internationally known band, who have come back to headline the Wiltshire Music Festival. But as Draco is about to learn, his past isn’t as far away as he might have believed, and his future may hold more than he ever could have dreamed.

Super Rich Kids by trishjames (E, 81k)

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

At Your Service by Faith Wood (E, 95k)

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There's only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

Nor All That Glisters by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 110k)

Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl (M, 114k)

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #war trauma #Harry helping Draco heal

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sameeksha-4717 · 19 days ago

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johnypage95 · 2 years ago

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leaky-heart · 1 year ago

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so uh can you tell us some facts about your version of Michael Afton?

Yeah sure rhrhr

So he’s the oldest of the Afton siblings, Evan next, Elizabeth last. He used to go along well with his mom, she taught him makeup. She died giving birth to Elizabeth. On the other hand he never really got along with William, he was also jealous that William would prefer Evan to him or Elizabeth. He came out as trans when he was around 12 and that didn’t really go well with Will which basically resulted in Mike having really complicated feeling toward Christianity

He ran away from home on his 18th birthday (so June 11 1984) In 87, he’s 21 ! He dropped out of highschool and so didn’t go to college and instead found a job at an electronic repair shop were he used the skills he learned while helping with the animatronics at the dinner. He doesn’t like talking much, especially with strangers. The one time he was at the register was a disaster cause he was way to blunt with the clients and getting angry at them so now he just always stays at the back for repair stuff. He met his two best friends, Fritz and Annura (oc) through this job tho ! He doesn’t have a lot of friends but he cherishes them. He would rather keep a small circle of close friends rather being friend with everyone. He doesn’t really open much about his past (so before running away) the only person who really knows what happened is Annura

He has a shit sleeping schedule as well cause he draws until late, saying he’s more productive at night, or is woken up by nightmares. He took the habit of turning the tv on when he wakes up and put on whatever soap opera he finds until he falls back asleep.

He’s a goth, his favorite bands are The Cure, Sisters of Mercy and Bauhaus ! He also likes the Stooges cause it was one of his mom’s fav. He likes makeup and goth fashion but generally dresses more casual cause of sensory issues. He did get Jeremy into makeup tho !

He’s supposed to be wearing glasses but doesn’t cause he ressembles William too much when he wears them. He also doesn’t wear contacts cause it makes him sick so perpetually seeing blurry (he’s nearsighted). His hair is graying already so he dies it (thanks to jeremy explaining to him how). He conceals his British accent but it comes back whenever he’s in a bad mood so it’s really easy to tell whenever it’s the case. He loves cat and used to have one named Kit

#fnaf #michael afton #instant crush

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olaqueenbeeofastrology · 4 months ago

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oleander-nin · 1 year ago

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The Weight of a Letter(8)

A/N: Apologies if it's not the best, I'm not having a good time right now and I'm also really busy. This is kind of a filler chapter, and I hope it doesn't come back to bite me. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

Taglist? If you want to be added or removed, just say so: @ssak-i @sinister-things @ancreativename @t0ta11y-n0t-cup1d @idiotreblogger @whygz @lexiechr@10yagurlchip01 @rex-ray

Part 1 - Previous - Next

Words: 1519

Content warnings: A scolding, arguing

Chapter 8: A Needed Scolding

I hear the door behind me click open, Irma’s figure stepping in. She waves at me and I wave back, my face pulled into an unsure grin. The entire interaction I had just a few moments ago made me feel uneasy, but I doubted my worry held any weight. I had just seen an old friend again after months between our first meeting. It was cool, even if he seemed more cautious this time around.

Irma makes her way across the apartment, setting her backpack down on the floor next to the couch. She crashes down, her long arms stretching above her head as she pops her back. I stand in the middle of the room for a moment more before sitting next to her, my hands clasped in front of me. My eyes scan Irma, her body collapsed on the couch as she curls into the armrest. “How was school?”

“Fine. I brought your homework back. We learned a new topic in English though, and I very much do not like it.” Irma says, her face scrunched in displeasure. I snicker into my hand and she sticks her tongue out at me. She turns back to her phone, and I reach for the remote that was sitting on the back of the couch. I flip on the TV, scrolling through the different channels until I settle on one I like.

We both sit in silence for a while, neither of us wanting or needing to start a conversation. I always liked how we could just exist in each other's space, and that was all that was needed to spend time together. Except, we were spending time together because I can’t go home at the moment, rather than us being this close from our own accord. Still though, it was nice.

“Do you want pizza tonight?” Irma asks, her fingers raking through her hair. She looks at me over the top of her phone, her eyes, dancing between the screen and my face. I think her offer over for a minute before shrugging. I sure didn’t want to cook, and I doubted Irma did either.

“Pizza sounds great, thanks.”

Irma nods and messes with her phone for a bit, presumably putting in the pizza order. I turn back to the TV, mindlessly watching the show. I fiddle with my thumbs, sighing. Today was certainly an odd one. I couldn’t help but feel I was forgetting something.

“Hey, how come you never answered my texts.” Irma says, her eyes narrowed at her phone.

Oh, that was what I was forgetting. My phone. I rub the back of my neck, unsure how to phrase all that went down. If I told Irma about the mutant turtles, she wouldn’t believe me. I didn’t want her to think I was any crazier than she already did. It would probably be better to be as vague as possible, or even to lie if I can. “I broke my phone.”

Irma looks at me blankly. “What?”

“I got upset and threw it at the wall, and it uh, it kind of shattered?” I explain, clasping my hands as my leg starts to bounce. Irma groans, leaning back against the armrest.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” Irma takes a deep breath, tapping the top of her phone against her chin. “We can drop it off at a repair shop tomorrow while we’re at school. If they can’t fix it, you’ll just have to get a new one I guess.”

I hesitate for a moment. “Actually, I already have someone who’s working on fixing it…”

Irma blinks at me, confused. She chews on her cheek, thinking my words over. “Did you stop by a shop or something today?”

I shake my head, suddenly feeling very stupid for my decisions. “Uh, no. I actually uh, I… Do you remember that guy I told you about? The one I met in the junkyard?”

Irma narrows her eyes at me, clearly not liking where this was going. “Go on.”

“I met him again, and he kind of offered to fix it?” I say, wincing. Irma looks as if she’s going to breathe fire.

“I’m sorry, you just gave your phone to someone who you met at some random junkyard?” She groans, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. “Do you realize how stupid that sounds?”

While I completely agree with her, I feel the urge to defend myself. Will my argument win? No. Will I gain back some of my pride? No idea, but too late to back down. “He understands tech, and he offered to do it for free. It doesn’t hurt.”

“It does hurt! What if he fixes it, then just mines all your data? Or sells it on the internet of something? Do you even know when you’re getting it back?” I cringe as Irma continues to scold me, her face worried as she starts to pace. I sit on the couch in silence, making sure not to speak. I give up on trying to defend myself. Hindsight was twenty/twenty, and I was an idiot. I fiddle with my thumbs, unsure how to explain. She was right, of course, but it’s not like it would’ve made a difference. They offered to fix it, so I’m letting them fix it.

“I know who I gave it to, it’s not like I handed it off to someone on the street.” I protest weakly, sitting up a bit. Irma narrows her eyes at me, frowning. I shrink back into the couch.

“(Y/n), you’ve met the guy twice. And there was an almost four month gap in between each meeting.” I rub my arm, knowing she’s right. I got too caught up in the moment and didn’t think about it enough. Giving them my phone, broken or not, was probably a bad idea. Most likely, I’d never see it again.

I scooch over as Irma plops next to me on the couch, her arms crossed. She grumbles a bit before glancing at me. “Let’s give it a week. If they don’t come back with your phone, we’ll cut our losses and just get you a new one.”

“Okay.”

Irma's face morphs into one of concern, her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, I was just worried. If you don’t have a phone and something goes wrong, you can’t call me for help. Just, next time, don’t give your phone to the first random guy who asks.”

I snort slightly, nodding. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Irma holds her pinky out for me to take, a wide grin on her face. “You gotta promise, (Y/n). We got too much weirdness going on for you to go handing out possibly privacy shattering stuff. You have everything on your phone, let’s hope this guy isn’t some weirdo.”

I sigh, hooking my pinky with hers. “I promise. But I swear, this guy isn’t bad. He's really cool, and his brothers are super sweet.”

“His brothers?” Irma questions, raising an eyebrow. I smile shakily, my hands moving back and forth next to my head in a ‘jazz hands’ motion.

“Surprise? I met his brothers. They were all super sweet.”

Irma looks unimpressed. I sigh, pouting. “He had three brothers, and they were all around when I saw him again.”

“Where exactly did you guys meet?” Irma asks, looking more confused than ever. My eyes dart to the fire escape.

“I went on a walk.”

Irma sucks in a deep breath, trying to process everything. I felt bad, knowing this was probably just adding to her stress. I’d tell her the truth eventually, just, after this whole possible stalker thing was over. One thing to deal with at a time. I didn’t want to lie to her, but I didn’t want to push all this new stuff on her just yet. Hopefully she will understand.

“Okay, well, nothing we can do about it now I guess.” Irma’s voice knocks me out of my thoughts. Her arms were crossed and she was looking at the door, contemplating something. Never before have I wanted to reach into her mind and see what she was thinking more than now. I know I made her upset, but I truly wasn’t thinking. I just took the opportunity I was handed. It was fine though. I trusted Donnie. Plus, there really isn't anything we can do except wait.

Irma sits back down grabbing her phone. She curls into the armrest like before, but this was different. I feel my heart sink. Irma was upset, and now she was ignoring me. I turn back to the TV, unable to pay much attention to the screen. I would leave her be for a bit. I could only hope this would all blow over soon. Irma would see it was fine, and we would go back to normal. Irma would see that she was overreacting, and I would apologize again for being careless.

I pull my knees to my chest, too clouded with thought to do anything. This would all blow over and be fine. It had to.

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