#I PROMISE THERE'S MINIMAL ACTUAL SPORTS IN THIS FIC
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altschmerzes · 1 year ago
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i feel like it's really extremely typical of Gav Altschmerzes that in the later timeline of the torture fic 'mac gets really into baseball and that is an actual component of his trauma recovery' is a legitimate plot point and consistent Thing. it truly does not get more specifically Me than that.
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thinkatoryprocess · 2 years ago
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No pressure to do anything with this it was just eating my brain and you seemed like you might appreciate it. I absolutely adore and devour everything you’ve written for this fandom.
I have this random plot for a fic where Roman’s boarding/military school ends up heavily investigated for alleged abuse. Maybe there is a trial or some type of true crime documentary and a bunch of evidence gets leaked making Roman’s past public knowledge. Maybe Logan is implicated by way of a cover up or blatant complacency and his behavior comes to light as well. All the sibs have to navigate the sudden scandal while the public weighs in on their dysfunctional childhoods. There are Reddit threads and gossip articles connecting it to their currently dysfunctional adult behavior since a lot of their stuff isn’t well hidden. There’s a reckoning where Waystar maybe tries to pull off a coverup or a defense but ends up digging up more sordid details. Journalists are demanding interviews and other victims come out to confirm the story. Kendal, Stewy, Geri, Shiv not really knowing how they feel about Roman being asked to participate in the coverup vs him telling his story. Roman having no frame of reference on how to handle this revelation since in his mind everyone already knows something was wrong and didn’t care previously. He literally has already told them at some point(his habit of saying the truth in an unbelievable way) but he is panicked/humiliated/terrified anyway because it’s much more real with all the details laid out for everyone to see. He also has to face Logan’s wrath even though he didn’t actually cause any of the mess. At the same time he also feels validated and vindictive because the public want to get him justice and he never thought he would get an opportunity for revenge. Could be Roman/Stewy since Stewy would have insights on the Roy’s childhood and baby Roman. Roman/Gerri would work with the legal aspect and her struggling with what “serving her interests” entails keeping power at Waystar vs optics of perpetuating abuse, vs Gerri’s own fondness for Roman. maybe Baird (and by association her) could have been part of the original coverup. Also to her some of their sexual exploits feel different with context so struggling with that vs him being a consenting adult who’s allowed to be kinky). Roman/Matsson can be interesting with Matsson being a good foil since he’s an outside observer who inherits the scandal but has to deal with the crazy. Him being the only person who can stand up to Logan with minimal consequences is also promising. Roman/Tom - this ones out there but idk I feel like Tom is very susceptible to hazing and maybe has some similar trauma in his past via a frat or sports team. Dudes could bond over going along with shit because the felt they had to. Mostly I just want aggressively incompetently protective Ken, Connor, and Shiv struggling with their loyalty/fear of Logan vs their morals and love for Roman and their inability to avoid the issue this time around. I imagine there is also a lawyer or investigative journalist who is just baffled watching this family fail at behaving in any way that could be expected.
Pretty brilliant, tbh. I like the concept of military school trauma, and it getting busted open like this as a major plot device is promising. I do agree it'd be as easy as falling dominos for a lot of nasty Roy stuff to come to light. I also feel like blindsiding Roman with this is interesting.
Not sure about pairing. You make good cases overall. Tom/Roman agenda lately! I'm not complaining.
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passionate-hedgehog · 4 years ago
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Sweatshirt
Summary: Y/n gained more than an office when she was promoted to a main writer for Mythical Entertainment.But while she’s celebrating the new aspects of her job, her boyfriend seems to be crumbling. 
Pairing: Damien Haas x Reader
Word count: 4584
Warnings: None
A/N: When I wrote this, I was really just wanting to write a story about how a hoodie exposed a Damien x Reader relationship and then I added some angst because...entertainment, ya know? But at the time I’m posting this fic, I’ve had gone through almost losing my job because of state health mandates due to COVID. I found out that my restaurant thoroughly respects my work ethic and my schedule will remained unchanged. But working an entire shift unsure if I’ll be returning...or if I’ll see any of my coworkers that I’ve come to know as family ever again? I was able to relate to this a lot more than I thought I would. I’m not downplaying anyone that goes through uncertain things, especially during 2020. But I hope it can help a little bit. 
Y/n’s morning had been one for the books. She ran into her boyfriend’s former boss, Ian Hecox, at her favorite coffee shop while wearing a hoodie she DEFINITELY wasn’t meant to be sporting. The item had been a part of an unreleased merch line for SMOSH. They had been planning on announcing it the week after Defy, SMOSH’s parent company, had unfortunately shut down. Select cast and crew had been gifted with the limited stock, and Y/n had discovered it in her boyfriend’s closet just minutes before she ran out the door to get to the coffee shop.
Ian, a man she had yet to be introduced to before that morning, had been polite but concerned about how she had the item in the first place. She wanted to give the simple answer that her boyfriend of four months, Damien Haas, didn’t know she took it from his closet that morning. But Damien being in a relationship hadn’t been general knowledge to many people yet, and she didn’t want to put him in that position. He had been trying to work past his SMOSH days and focusing on future endeavors. She didn’t want to reconnect dots that he had worked so hard to disconnect.  After reassuring the man that she did not, in fact, legitimately steal it and that the owner never wore it out in public, she apologized for wearing it and promised to remove it once she got to her destination.
When Y/n made it to work, she was greeted with the two head-writing team members sporting nearly creepy smiles aimed at her. She narrowed her eyes at them and immediately grew suspicious. The writers, Nick and Ellie, pulled her down the hallway towards the various offices and stopped in front of a single closed door. Ellie stood off to the side of the door but grasped at the handle.
“Congrats on your promotion!” She winked and pushed the door open, letting Y/n look thoroughly into the room.
“Is this...do I have my own… what?!” Y/n looked between Ellie and the room. “What??”
“Rhett and Link, and the rest of us, agreed that since you’ve been promoted to a main writer position AND you’ve been handling a lot of other projects that go beyond your job description, you should have the space fitting for it. They have a new investment that you’ll be working with.” Ellie moved to stand by her fellow head writer, Nick. 
“Trust us. You’ll need this space. You’re about to have your hands full.” Was all Nick supplied, as cryptic as it was. “There’s a meeting in 20 minutes. You won’t have to worry about being late now that you’re so close to the main offices. See you in a few!”
The duo walked away and left Y/n to take in what happened entirely. 
“My own office?” She wondered as she finally took her first steps into her own space. There was a desk, a chair, the same kind of  desktop that is used in the other offices, and room for her personal touch. She had dreamt of her own office, and she finally had it. Y/n took out her phone and noted she had enough time to grab her meeting materials from her bag, and decided to make it to the meeting early.
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The meeting had left the writer confused. Mythical had purchased SMOSH, her boyfriend’s former employer. It was a happy thing. She knew it was a happy thing. Damien had walked her down memory lane when Defy had shut down, and he found himself at home more than he wanted to be. It had been therapeutic for him. But he eventually decided to leave those memories there in the past. And now she was hit with the dilemma of whether or not she should tell him. Would she even be allowed to tell him?
“Hey, Babe!” Damien’s voice called from the doorway. 
Y/n looked up from her desktop, all inner turmoil disappearing when she saw her boyfriend’s smiling face. “Hey! How’d you find me?”
“Nick walked me down here.” The brunette let himself into the office and sat in the chair across from his girlfriend. “This is so cool. You didn’t tell me you were getting an office. We could have gone to Target and grabbed some cute things.”
“It was a surprise. I didn’t know about it until I got here this morning. Oh! Speaking of!” The woman grabbed her bag and shot an apologetic look. “I might have made a bad decision that I definitely need to apologize for.”
Damien cocked his head in confusion, similar to that of a puppy.
Y/n pulled out the black and blue hoodie from her bag and passed it over to her boyfriend. “I took this on my way out. I was in a hurry and didn’t quite look to see what it was I had put on. Eventually, I realized what I was wearing in public, and I put it in my bag. I’m sorry, Babe.”
Damien’s eyes met the fabric, and he shrugged. “Eh, it’s fine. You can just keep it, actually. I already have so many hoodies and shirts from...you can just have itz. I bet it looks better on you anyway. I don’t need it.”
Y/n copied Damien’s confused look from earlier. “Dames, this is your hoodie. YOUR hoodie. You designed this, and it’s your only copy of it. I can’t take it, Babe. How about I throw it in the wash when we get home, and I’ll just put it back where I got it from?”
Damien shook his head. “No, that’s okay. Just...consider it a gift, I guess. I don’t need it. Take it.”
“Dames-.” Y/n began.
“I think I’ll meet you in the car. I have some calls to make for a few auditions. Take your time, Y/n.” Damien got up from his seat, immediately breaking eye-contact with his girlfriend. 
After the voice-over actor left the office, Y/n let out a sigh and leaned as far back in her chair as she could, her head dangling off the headrest. She debated with herself for a few moments on whether they should talk out what was definitely him pushing unresolved feelings into a box. She decided that there was enough excitement for that day, proceeded to pack her things, and made her way to her boyfriend’s car.
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A few weeks later, Y/n found herself in a private meeting with her bosses Rhett and Link. After the news that Mythical had purchased SMOSH, Y/n had found out that she would work as a main writer for Mythical and that she would also help out with minimal production work at SMOSH while they built their team back up. The SMOSH gig wouldn’t be long-term, but it was definitely something different than what she knew. The writer had assisted with some production work on GMM during her career, so the production aspect itself wasn’t unfamiliar to her. Working for two different channels? That would be tricky. 
It was not as tricky as treading the waters with Damien once he finally found out that SMOSH was coming back to life, which would be difficult since Y/n would be the liaison between SMOSH and Mythical for the foreseeable future. She would be working with Ian, going to board meetings, working in the SMOSH half of the building, and helping create a staff for SMOSH. Y/n was always up for a challenge, a chance to expand her horizons in her career. She just hoped that it wouldn’t damage the relationship she worked hard to build with her partner. 
“Tomorrow is your meeting with Ian. We’ll give you the black card to charge the lunch to. He didn’t have an exact number of how many people would be showing up, but it should be fine.” Rhett handed the credit card to her. “The cafe you picked didn’t seem too pricey, so we’re not worried. Just make sure not to lose the card.”
Link leaned forward in the chair he was occupying, folding his arms on to the desk in front of him. “Have you been in contact with him yet? Introduce yourself and all of that?”  
“Uh…” Y/n glossed over the fact that she had, in fact, already met Ian in person almost a month ago on accident. “Yeah...We already discussed a little bit about tomorrow. Going over what he’ll be telling his team and things of that sort. He mentioned that he had been keeping it under wraps from them. But I’m ready for it. I can’t imagine that happening to Mythical. I’d be devastated. I’m very thankful that you guys run your own ship.”
Rhett gave a shrug and a short “Eh, we try.” that caused Link to give a quick laugh. 
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The morning of the meeting with Ian felt...off... to Y/n. When she woke up, Damien had already vacated the bed. She thought that maybe he had decided to go to the meeting that he had no idea she would be at. Perhaps she could subtly slip it in that she’d be there and they could take the same car. It took her a few minutes of searching the apartment to realize that her partner wasn’t even home. She didn’t know where he was. She only hoped that he would be at the cafe later. Y/n shook it off and began to get ready. Today was going to be nerve-wracking enough without him there.
Y/n made it to the cafe ten minutes before the determined meeting time. She found Ian easily and approached him with her head held high and an incredibly pleasant smile plastered to her face.
“Ian?” She asked as she approached his chair. He turned to her and watched the lightbulb go off in his head. “I’m Y/f/n Y/l/n from Mythical! And now, SMOSH...kinda.”
He stood up and shook her hand. “Hey. Nice to officially meet you! Although, I believe we’ve met before…”
Y/n winced and nodded, taking a seat across from him. There were a handful of empty chairs scattered around the table. She didn’t count them but was glad that the lunch meeting had already been approved by her bosses to be charged on the black card.
“Before we get started,” Ian began. “I just want to clarify that I haven’t told anyone what this meeting is about, and I’m still not all too sure who will be making it. A lot of things have been up in the air for so long, I’ve had to learn to just go with the flow.”
“Honestly, same.” Y/n replied as the waitress approached them.
A couple of people approached the table and greeted Ian and took seats by him while Y/n chatted with her usual waitress. The newcomers and Ian gave their drink orders before the server walked away.
“Shayne, Court, I’d like to introduce you to Y/n of Mythical Entertainment. Y/n/, Shayne and Courtney are two of SMOSH’s actors. They were hired in 2016.” Ian introduced.
“It’s really nice to meet you two! I spent the last month watching a lot of SMOSH, and you guys crack me UP! It’s almost impossible for me not to laugh at a video with either of you in it. Or any video, to be honest. Except for the Dominos mukbang. I got a little uncomfortable at the end of that one.” Y/n winced at the end of her introduction.
The three conversed as more people showed up, Keith showing up with Noah and Olivia. Matt Raub could be heard arguing good-naturedly with Sarah Whittle down the sidewalk as they approached. Lastly, Lasercorn and Mari appeared separately but arriving at about the same time. All of the chairs around the table were full except for the one to Y/n’s left. She glanced at it longlingly before giving her full attention to Ian.
“So! Should we order and then talk about why we’re here while we wait for the food?” Y/n suggested.
Ian nodded in agreement, and Y/n made eye contact with their server, pulling her over to the group. Everyone gave their order to the waitress before Y/n gave her own and then proceeded to give the order for Damien, in hopes that he would show up in the end.
“But you can put that last one on our personal tab. I might just end up taking it home. Thanks, Clementine.” Y/n called as the waitress walked away.
Y/n was about to officially start the meeting when her phone went off loudly. She pulled it out of her pocket to send it to voicemail when she saw that it was Damien’s name. “I’m so sorry. I actually need to take this really quickly. Continue your conversations.”
Y/n rose from her seat and walked off a few paces. She answered her call, hoping it would be her boyfriend telling her that he had a meeting he would be late for (the one she was at) and that he wouldn’t be able to pick up lunch that day. What it ended up being, though, was Y/n trying to subtly convince Damien to go to the meeting she knew he had (the same one she was at, but he still didn’t know that part) and failing miserably. 
“You know where I am with that, Y/n. I don’t know why you’re pushing it. It was a good few years, but it’s done! I need to figure out what’s next for me. Dwelling on the past isn’t going to fix it.”
Y/n took a deep breath. “Have you even talked to anyone about this meeting? Do you even know what it’s about? Maybe something amazing and wonderful will come out of it!! You won’t know unless you try! And I know you’re building on your VO work, but SMOSH is already here and waiting for you. LITERALLY. WAITING.”
Damien grew quiet on the other end of the line, and Y/n realized she said the wrong thing. “What are you talking about. Y/n? What do you mean by ‘literally waiting’? How would you know anything about SMOSH’s meeting?”
“I just..I don’t...Damien. Please. Coming to this meeting could be what you need, right now.”
“You said coming instead of going. Why would you use ‘coming’ instead of ‘going’?”
“Oh my GOD, can you please stop analyzing what I’m saying for five fucking minutes and just listen to the point I’m trying to make here?!” Y/n noticed she was yelling and apologized before talking quieter and calmer. “Please, I’m begging you. Come to this meeting. They need you here. They’re your family.”
“Family wouldn’t keep info, like this meeting, a secret. Right?”
That caused Y/n to pause. “They...they didn’t tell you about the meeting?”
“They definitely told me. You didn’t, though.”
Y/n realized that she was losing grip with the conversation. “No, wait-Damien, I didn’t-”  
“I’ll talk to you later, Y/n. Or not. Who knows, am I right?” Damien ended the call with a beep audible from Y/n’s end.
After taking a few deep breaths and clearing her eyes from any of the tears built up from frustration and legitimate sadness, she collected herself and returned to the table. When she sat down, she noticed all eyes were on her.
“What did Damien have to say?” Ian asked with a sad smile that told her he already knew the answer.
“He uh...he can’t make it. Something came up.” Y/n cleared her throat and took a sip of her diet coke. “Any chance we can just completely ignore what just happened?”
“How do you know, Damien?” The question came from someone on her left. 
“I guess not,” She took a bigger sip of her drink. “Damien and I...have been seeing each other. For a few months now.”
The surprised reactions that spread around the whole table proved to Y/n that her boyfriend really didn’t tell anyone about their relationship, including Shayne, whom he called his best friend. Y/n couldn’t imagine not telling someone that important about a relationship that’s lasted as long as it had. But after what went down over the phone, the breaking of trust and the arguing, she thought maybe there was good reason for it. In an attempt to not dwell on what happened, Y/n called on Ian to continue the meeting.
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Instead of going to her own apartment after the meeting with SMOSH, Y/n decided to take Damien his food in hopes of a peace offering and have a chance to talk everything out. She pulled into the visitor parking of the apartments and took a second to collect herself. She knew her partner was hurting. The signs of his anxiety and personal, private compulsions were showing through when he thought she couldn’t see. She knew he was struggling, but all she wanted to do was fix it. But how? Would he even let her into the apartment?
She knocked on his door and waited for an answer. She knocked again a few minutes later, before taking out her key. Naturally, she’d respect his want for space, but at that moment, she didn’t have it in her. She made her way into the apartment and eventually found him laid out against his headboard, playing his Switch on his bed. He didn’t look up when she walked in or when she sat on the bed.
“I uh...I brought you your order from the cafe. Do you want it now, or should I put it in the fridge?” She asked gently from her spot at his feet.
He clicked the lock button and put the handheld device down. Looking at the bag in his girlfriend’s hands, he gestured for her to hand it to him. She leaned over to give it to him, and he put the paper bag next to his Switch. Without speaking, he nodded his head towards the door, and Y/n picked up his hint.
“Right. You probably don’t want me here right now...uh..”She scratched at her neck, disappointed in herself for thinking that he’d want anything to do with her at the moment. “I’ll just...I gotta grab some of my things from the bathroom first. I want to make sure I give you all the space you need.”
Y/n made to get off the bed when Damien cleared his throat. “No, Y/n. I was stretching my neck. You don’t have to leave.”
The writer turned to face him, pushing what she hoped was a convincing smile on her face. “It’s ok! Really! You deserve some space after what happened. I completely lied to you about today, and that’s gotta feel like trash. I can let you eat in peace for once.”
“Please don’t.” He met her eyes, and she saw sadness there. “I can wait to eat. I just...I really want you to stay. Please?”
She nodded and pulled herself up the bed to lean against the headboard next to him. “Do you want to talk about it? I understand if you don’t. And it’s completely reasonable not to want to tell me about it at all. I am sorry, Dames. I didn’t know how to tell you, so I thought maybe it would go smoothly if you just saw me at the meeting. I figured it’d be easier handling the topic of ‘us,’ too. Which...was weird to do with or without you.”
“Yeah. Shayne had questions for me. But I’m not upset that you told them. I can’t imagine the pressure that put you under. It couldn’t have been easy trying to get around it in the first place.” Damien kissed the top of her head. 
Y/n looked him in the eyes and gave a sad smile. “I’m worried about you. You tell me you’re okay and that you’re moving on, but...to me, it doesn’t look like it. To someone on the outside, maybe. But I’ve been with you since before Defy shut down. You haven’t processed it or grieved it. You barely talk to your best friend. It shows a lot that you hadn’t told him about me. Like...yeah, you’re a private person. But you don’t usually hide things from Shayne.”
The actor nodded along with her words. “Yeah, I...I don’t know how to...like I just…”
Y/n noticed he was struggling and held his hand, quietly waiting for him to continue.
“Defy shutting down and SMOSH limiting everything it was doing was hard. When we were as happy as we could get working for Defy, I never thought about ‘what’s after this?’ I didn’t think I’d have to worry about it. It all seemed to be going so well...So when it came, the loss of it all...that’s what happened. All of it was lost. Everything I did, all of the moments, the time...It felt like two years of my pure energy that I was never going to get back. I put everything I am into my life at SMOSH, and it felt like it didn’t matter in the end. So, I moved forward as fast and as hard as I could to outrun the pain I knew was coming. Unfortunately… the running didn’t work, and the pain still came. And I feel like I lost connections with people most important to me along the way.”
“No, Damien… you didn’t lose those connections. Trust me. They miss you. They need you in their lives. Whether it’s through SMOSH or just inviting them over for pizza and video games. Baby, they still love you. I promise.” Y/n sat up straighter and pulled her legs underneath her, letting both knew caps lay against Damien’s outstretched legs. “I can’t give any advice towards the running away from what happened because we both know I’m a little escape artist when conflict arises. But I think this conversation right here is a great way to begin to work through it. But I think it would work better if you talked it through with your best friend that went through the same thing.”
Damien pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. “Hmm...maybe. And you’re not that much of an escape artist anymore. You forced your way into my apartment and invited yourself on to my bed. We could have had a huge fight, but you went through with it anyway.”
Y/n looked up at him with her head still on his chest. “Because I love you. And I don’t want you to be sad anymore…”
Damien leaned down and kissed her, gently slipping his hands under her shirt before he pulled away. “You are more than I’ll ever deserve. Thank you for making sure I work out the things that bother me and affect me.”
“I’ll say it again.” She accentuated each of her following words with a poke to his torso. “I. Love. You. Dumb dumb.”
He grabbed her hand and guided her, so she was straddling his lap. “That hoodie you took from me last month, I didn’t get to see you in it. Can I get a peak?”
“Uh...sure? Are you sure, though? You seemed pretty passionate about not ever seeing it again.” Y/n rested her hands at his sides, softly running her thumbs over his shirt as if to comfort him.
“I think...I just didn’t want to think about my last few good memories with the company and everything. But I don’t want to run from it anymore.”
Y/n’s smile lit up her whole face. “Yeah? Then yeah, I can go put it on.”
“But could I convince you to wear it with nothing else on?”
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the-sinking-ship · 4 years ago
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Happy Birthday Lynn!
Today is the incomparable @fictional​​ ‘s birthday! I wanted to show Lynn how happy I am that she’s on this earth. So I swiped my desk clear, minimized every other project, and turned all my attention to writing a gift fic that might barely be worthy of my friend. Alas, I am one wordy bitch, and the project kind of got away from me. I’m shooting for a fashionably late completion, but to be honest, we’ll be lucky if we even make the after party.
But I absolutely cannot let today go unacknowledged. So, here is a little snippet of this outrageously-indulgent gift fic for darling Lynn. Featuring fashion designer Draco, fashion victim Harry, and a whole cast of snooty Slytherins. 
And oh yeah, and it’s loosely based on the movie Clueless. 
This is a piece of the makeover scene. Happy Birthday, sweetheart!
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Draco shoves Potter towards the fitting rooms with a rough hand on his shoulder, then he and Pansy set to work pulling half the store because Potter is going to need all the help he can get. All the while, Potter perches atop a stool and watches from between the fitting room curtains as Draco and Pansy flit about, speaking fluent fashion; placing bets over who will get Potter’s measurements right and whether he’ll properly fill out a YSL coat. 
Draco summons a bare rack, which comes screeching from the back room, halting in front of him, and he and Pansy unload their selections.
“Alright, Potter. Strip. And give me those clothes, I promise to take the utmost care of them,” Draco says and Pansy elbows him, grinning like the cat that got the cream. 
Potter glowers at them then shuts the curtains decisively. His tatty jeans fly over the curtain to land on Draco’s face, followed by his faded and worn t-shirt. Draco doesn’t mean to notice that Potter’s hideous clothes smell sort of nice.
 Not like expensive-nice, but woody and warm, with touch of honey and whisky spice. He throws them in the bin and when he returns, Pansy is feeding Potter a pair of Kiton trousers and a Ermenegildo Zena cashmere jumper through the curtain. There is some rustling and the sound of a zipper, followed by a growl. 
“I’m not coming out,” Potter says, and Draco can almost hear the scowl in his voice.
“Why the hell not?” 
“You’ve got the size wrong. It’s too bloody tight.”
Draco and Pansy share a look and she purses her lips around a smile. 
“Lucky for you, I actually wield tailoring charms professionally,” Draco says. “Don’t make me vanish that curtain, Potter, because I’ll do it. Don’t think I won’t.”
There is some unintelligible grumbling and then the curtain is thrust aside. 
“Oh!” Pansy gasps. One hand flies to her mouth and she looks to Draco, who is trying very hard to continue breathing and blinking normally. 
Because Potter isn’t wrong. It is tight. And Draco finds himself completely distracted by the way the fabric stretches across Potter’s chest; the fine, dark wool straining as he recrosses his arms. Potter certainly isn’t the paunchy old goat Draco was hoping for — in fact, he’s bloody built, the lean, hard lines of muscle visible beneath the thin fabric. Draco can practically count his abdominal muscles from where he’s standing. And the trousers leave almost nothing to the imagination — at least Draco doesn’t think he is imagining the perfect shape of Potter’s arse or the bulge against the zipper. 
Draco clears his throat. “Well. It could certainly be let out a touch. Perhaps we just…” he trails off for a moment because when Potter shifts his weight from his right foot to his left, the fabric positively clings across his hips. Draco shakes his head. “Let’s move on, shall we?”
Potter yanks the curtain back into place and Pansy grabs Draco by the arm, pressing her face into his bicep and screaming silently. She manages to compose herself by the time Potter pulls back the curtain again, this time in a Brunello Cucinelli sport shirt and Prada trousers.
“Merlin, Potter. I dare say, Italian suits you.”
“I can at least lift my arms in this one,” he grumbles.
Pansy’s nose crinkles the way it does when she’s being wicked. “We best check. Be sure it’s the right size.” She gestures and Potter lifts his arms, exposing a golden strip of skin at his waist. “Now do a lap around the room, will you?”
Potter drops his arms and rolls his eyes. “Why do I feel like I’m being objectified right now?” 
“Is that a new feeling, then? Well, first time for everything. Off you go,” Draco says, crowding him back into the fitting room. And maybe feeling the way the muscles in his shoulder flex beneath his hand.
It carries on that way, and when Potter emerges in Tom Ford, Pansy drools openly and Draco clings to the shreds of his professional dignity. By the time they’ve worked their way through the rack, Potter has amassed  a hefty bill and Draco concedes enough to offer him some jeans, which fit him so well Draco isn’t sure who he ought to thank first; Ralph Lauren, Potter’s fine genetics, or himself for thinking of it. In his infinite generosity, he even lets Potter pick out a few t-shirts, though they are a far cry from the faded and stretched rag he wore in. 
“So, that mean we’re done here?”
Pansy looks at him like a pitiable crup, and pops the cork on a bottle of Domaine Leflaive Batard Montrachet that Draco keeps for important clients and bad days. “Clothes are only half the battle, Potter,” she says.
She summons three glasses and pours generously while Draco appraises Potter from a few feet away with a thumb and forefinger at his his chin. 
“Sorry, can’t do much about the face. It’s part of the package, I’m afraid,” Potter says.
“And what a package it is,” Pansy leers. “And here I thought the face was going to be the only redeemable part.”
Potter turns to Draco. “Is she flirting with me? I can’t tell because it comes out sounding like an insult.” 
“Will you two shut up so I can think?”
Potter slumps into the chair Draco set out for him and Pansy hands him a glass of wine. She pats him on the cheek, hard enough to make a slapping sound, and Potter winces. She hands Draco his glass and he sips while staring with narrowed eyes. 
Draco sets aside his wine and steps up to where Potter is seated, and without preamble, combs fingers through his hair. Potter sucks in a surprised gasp, eyes going wide. 
Despite Draco’s hopes, Potter definitely isn’t balding, and it’s a pity because Draco is running out of things to hold over him. But no, Potter’s hair is thick and soft, and the curls wrap their way around Draco’s fingers as he pushes it from one side to the other. 
“Some of this is going to have to go,” he announces, though he combs through it again, just for good measure. He’s assessing, that’s all.
“You’re going to cut my hair?”
“I’m going to have to.”
“I feel like the clothes ought to be enough,” Potter argues weakly, eyelids fluttering when Draco gives the hair in his fist a little tug. 
“I’ll have you know, Potter, I don’t half-arse anything. Putting you in those clothes and leaving this mop attached to your skull would be lazy. Downright negligent. And I am neither. Don’t you see how that will reflect poorly on me? Have a little sympathy, will you?”
Potter snorts and leans forward into Draco’s touch. He really should drop his hand because it’s getting excessive. But it feels rather nice, and it’s been an age since Draco had a man’s hair between his fingers. Pity it has to be Potter’s. 
“Do you even know how to do that? Cut hair?” 
“I know how to do everything, Potter. Do you think I look like this by accident?”
40 notes · View notes
bunnyywritings · 4 years ago
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can o request one with tsukishima and a second or first yr manager.... they like each other but since tsukki is a salty ass he said some insulting things to her which resulted to her becoming distant and scared(???) of him HIHI. FLUFF ENDING PLS
caught in the moment
Tsukishima Kei x fem!reader
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𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 - 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥
[a/n: yes yes yes!! Thank you for requesting anon, I hope you don’t mind but I’m going to make this a multiple part fic...this was a very inspiring prompt 🥺 ugh just look at him :(( I luv this boy so much ❣️I feel like this is cannon Tsukki behavior, he would definitely go too far with teasing the person he likes since he’s so emotionally unavailable sometimes. This actually has an angsty ending but it will get fluffy, I promise. I hope this isn’t too bad...I’m not super cofident with how it came out.  Anyways, here you go! enjoy! -yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´-]
Being the team manager of a bunch of highly energetic boys was definitely a challenge. Thankfully, you weren’t alone. Having Kiyoko and eventually Yachi by your side. You joined once school had started up seeing that you had used to play volleyball in middle school. A very promising wing spiker that was rumored to do very well, possibly even play in pro teams. That all changed in your last game of the season. You had landed a bad spike that was easily received. Once you had landed back on the court, distracted by your loss, you landed very wrong and injured your knee. You had slowly recovered with painfully long hours of physiotherapy but you had to always wear a brace on your right knee just to keep it stable. You hadn’t played volleyball since. You desperately wanted to but you were afraid to mess up again. So you decided to ease back into the sport by being a team manager. Then, you met him.
Tsukishima Kei.
He was a big, big, big pain in your ass. Especially after Coach Ukai came on board. He had learned of your success as a wing spiker and occasionally as a middle block, and had you help out Tsukishima and Hinata. Hinata was ecstatic, he didn't mind since he used to practice with the ladies from the community center but the same couldn’t be said about Tsukishima.
He scoffed and asked how a shrimp could teach him how to block. You quickly shut him up when you had successfully blocked out one of Asahi’s spikes. That didn’t mean he was compliant. He was far from it. Always putting in the bare minimum and it irked you to no end...but, yes there’s a but, there was times where you could see how happy he was to have gotten a good block. His expression didn’t really show it but it was all in the eyes.
Oh how you could get lost in those pools of gold.
He definitely took notice. He wouldn’t admit it but, he admired you greatly. He knew about what happened in middle school. He saw the limp in your step.He also saw you practicing with Hinata and the third years during lunch or after practice. He hated how inferior he felt around you. Despite being permanently injured, you had a smile on your face. No matter how many times you had to repeat basic instructions for setting up to block, you still believed in him. You smiled when he accomplished something, even if it was something done with minimal effort and you tell him, ‘See, I knew you could do it!’ He hated it, not really, but he did. You were also very attractive. Adorable eyes and smile, a dangerously enticing body, and sharp tongued. He thought it was hot that you could keep up with his wit.
Then it started happening. His heart would beat faster whenever you smiled at him. It would beat wildly when your shoulder brushed against his arm. He would feel fuzzy and warm at your praises. Sugarawa had taken notice to the longing glances you both shared when the other wasn’t looking, the blush that would tint your cheeks when the tall blonde would lean down to tease you. So, of course, he told Asahi and Daichi. The captain just shook his head. Of course he was intrigued but it was none of his business. Asahi felt the same but he was definitely more open to fan-boying over the two first years.
Tsukishima had also realized that he didn’t like when someone flirted with you. Whether it was Tanaka and Noya messing around or what he was scowling at in the current moment.
You were blushing and stuttering because of Nekoma’s captain. Rooster head was wooing you with a copious amount of flirty remarks and compliments. Along with that owl headed loud mouth from Fukurodani. You had caught the eye of many during the summer training camp. Especially when you walked into gym #3 in those spandex shorts and a Karasuno pull over.
“O-Oh!” You had squeaked, “I didn’t think anyone would be here.”
“And why are you here so late, chibi-chan?~” And that’s when it started. He had just come in for his towel and was asked to stay and practice and you walked in before he could answer.
“So? What do you say Tsukishima?” Bokuto turned to the blonde who sighed.
“We just had a whole day of training, why would I want to practice more?” He took off his glasses and cleaned them with his towel.
“That’s a great idea! You could learn a lot from these three, Tsukishima-kun! More than you could from me.” You had clasped your hands together, grinning. Akaashi seemed a bit taken aback that you had even noticed him.
“What do you mean? Are you a coach?” Bokuto had leaned down a bit, his face a bit too close to yours.
“W-well no b-but I help him and Hinata practice their blocking.” 
“You help them with blocking?” Kuroo was intrigued, if you were helping them then maybe you were pretty good.
“Not well enough.” Tsukishima scoffed.
“Yeah well maybe you’d learn something if you put in the effort.” You retorted, arms crossed and eye brow quirked.
“Well since you think you’re such hot stuff, why don’t you take my place and practice. I’m heading to bed.” You rolled your eyes at his words and that’s what you did. You explained your situation and you practiced in a 2v2. You and Bokuto vs Kuroo and Akaashi.
After a couple of rounds, you all sat around to cool down.
“So why haven’t you joined the girls team? You’d do really well there.” Akaashi asked as he gulped down some water.
“Well, I-I actually don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.” You shrugged. You weren’t exactly lying, you hadn’t really thought about it much.
“Liar.” Kuroo chuckled, a knowing smirk on his lips. “It’s because of that Tsukishima jerk, right?”
“What-what’re you talking about?”
“Oh come on! I saw the little looks you give him. How he gets a little flustered when you praise him during a game. I’d say that you have a crush on him.” Your reaction was priceless. Wide eyes, furious pink across your cheeks and mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“Oh ho ho! You have a crush!” Bokuto chuckled loudly. “(Y/n) and Tsukishima sitting in a tree! K.I.S.S.S.I.N.G!”
“Leave the poor girl alone, Bokuto.”Akaashi spoke in a bored tone, smacking the boy upside the head.
“Akaashi!”
And thus started the endless teasing. During day training and the extra training in gym #3. Tsukishima didn’t like it one bit. You were paying less attention to him and more to the two over-zealous captains. He had a grimace all through breakfast when Kuroo called you over to join Nekoma for a change. He watched as you happily chatted with the team, laughing at jokes, blushing at Kuroo’s shameless flirting, even getting Kenma to look away from his phone and have a conversation about Animal Crossing, exchanging info so he could invite you to his island.
He was pissed, and it didn’t go unnoticed.
“What’s wrong Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked as he sat right in front of his scowling friend, playing with the food on his tray.
“(Y/n)! Is that all you’re eating? Here have some more grilled fish!” His scowl grew deeper as he watched Lev place pieces of fish in your bowl of rice, not missing the blush on your face when you stuttered out a thank you.
“Nothing Yamaguchi, I’m fine.” He basically growled as he pushed his seat out, forcefully picking up his tray and throwing out the untouched food, making a point to slam the door open and marching out.
“I wonder what’s gotten into Tsukishima.” Daichi frowned as he took a seat with Suga and Asahi.
“I think I know what.” Suga had a sly look on his face as he gestured over to you and Lev. The both of you conversing excitedly about something. “I think he’s jealous because a certain first-year manager is getting attention from the other teams.” The silver headed setter giggled. A look of realization washing over their features.
That jealous anger had definitely affected his playing. His usually calculated movements were off and he was awfully distracted. They had lost match after match and those punishment dives took a toll on everyone. You had taken it upon yourself to convince the managers that it was a good time to cut up the watermelon that was donated by a parent. They quickly agreed, the thought of a sweet and cool slice of the fruit enticing them as well.
“Alright boys! Break time!” They all had sped over to grab a slice of watermelon from their respective manager.
“Thank you, (y/n)-san.” Daichi smiled. The others following in suit, thanking you and grabbing a slice of the fruit.
“Thanks shrimp.” Tsukishima plucked the last piece from your outstretched hand, his fingers brushing against yours and smirking at the blush he caused. “What’s wrong? Do I make you nervous?” He leaned in closer, so close that if you had moved an hair closer, your noses would have brushed.
“Pfft...as if.” You turned away, leaving him amused as he stalked away
Training had ended on another sour note, chests heaving after another round of of punishment dives. You changed into shorts and a t-shirt again and made your way back to the gym.
“Hey Hey! You ready for more training?” Bokuto jumped excitedly. You guys had been in the middle of another set when Lev came bounding in, followed by Hinata and Kageyama.
You decided to take a break and help Lev with his receiving.
“Lev, you’ve gotta bend your knees lower. Loosen up, you’re too stiff.” You instructed from beside him, lowering yourself as an example.
“That invitation to train with us is still open, you know?” Bokuto’s words made you perk up and turn to the doors, and sure enough, there stood the tall blonde.
“I just came in for my shoes.” A fake smile painted his lips as he scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, meeting your eyes before you quickly turned away.
“WHAT?! You’re turning down training with the captains of powerhouses? No fair!” Hinata whined.
Tsukishima ignored him completely. “What’s wrong (y/n)? Did they finally get annoyed with you?” He scoffed.
“N-no...I’m just taking a break.” You spun the ball in your hands.
“I’m sure. I mean, I bet those short legs of yours must get tired easily.” He snickered. No one really laughed, they were unsure if he was actually insulting you or if he was playing around.
“My legs are perfectly fine. Even if they are short, I definitely jump way higher than you.” You smirked. You had grown accustomed to his teasing and to take his words with a grain of salt. But this time, your words seemed to have hit right in his inferiority complex.
“Then why’d you ever stop playing? You’d be doing us a favor by joining a team so I don’t have to hear your irritating complaints about how much I suck but I guess that’d be hard with a bum knee. I mean, you can barely even walk without limping.” He hadn’t really thought about the word vomit that was leaving his mouth. He was just letting out his anger and jealousy. He didn’t notice that you started crying. He had gone too far. His eyes widened ever so slightly.
“(Y/n)...” Lev asked carefully, placing a hand on your quivering shoulders.
“You know why I complain, Tsukishima?” The fact that your voice was so steady and venomous sent shivers down his spine. “I complain because I care about you! I know you can do better than how you’re doing now. I also know that if you don’t put in more effort, Ukai is taking you out of the starting line up! And I know it’s going to hurt me seeing your potential go to waste because I-I...” The stale silence that followed made everyone uncomfortable. No one knew what to do. Comfort you or reprimand Tsukishima.
They watched as you let the ball drop from your hands and you slumped to the exit. “I’m sorry for causing a scene. I’m going to bed. Goodnight everyone.” Kuroo flinched at how broken you sounded. He couldn’t blame you. The guy you liked had basically just called you annoying and teased you about a major insecurity. They watched as you left the gym, shoulder shaking as more tears made their way down your cheeks.
“Not cool man.” Was all Kuroo had to say as he followed you out. Concern clearly etched on his face.
“Tch...whatever.” He gritted his teeth and walked out before hearing Yamaguchi call for him and charge in his direction.
“(Y/n)...”Kuroo called out to you. You were leaning against the outside of the gym, hand clamped over your mouth. He approached you with open arms, an embrace being exactly what you needed. You slumped against him and buried your face into his chest. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re amazing.” You chuckled weakly.
“Thanks Kuroo...”
Back with Tsukishima, Hinata decided to scold him about how he should be more careful with his words and how he should go apologize. As much as he disliked the orange haired idiot, he agreed that he owed you an apology. So he made his way behind the gym, peering around the corner when he heard Kuroo talking.
“There’s no need to cry. Those ugly tears aren’t fitting for a beautiful girl like you.” He cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears away. Unlike compliments before, there was no playful tone in his voice.
Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. There was no doubt that you had feelings for Tsukishima but having someone as handsome as Kuroo inches from your face was definitely making you feel some type of way. You bit your lip as you looked into his eyes, they were sincere. Then looking down at his lips. His eyes searched yours before he noticed where your gaze was. His own eyes looking at your plush lips before meeting your gaze once more. His thumb ran over your bottom lip and nudged it from its place, stressed between your teeth. You both leaned forward, caught in the moment, lips meeting in the middle. Melding together and moving in sync. Your hands moving around his shoulders and into his hair, his arms pulling you closer into him.
Tsukishima’s heart stopped once your lips met, looking away when neither of you pulled away from each other. His heart hurt. Next to being deceived by his brother, this really hurt him. He thought you had liked him. Was he wrong? Had he gotten his hopes up? He frowned at the confusion and betrayal that filled his body. Walking back to the dorms with a heavy heart and slumped shoulders.
When you and Kuroo had breathlessly pulled away, realization set in.
“This isn’t-I’m sorry, I don’t...I uhmm...”
“Relax. It’s fine. I know you don’t feel anything for me. And after that, I know I don’t either.” He scratched the back of his neck.
“Excuse me! Are you saying I’m a bad kisser?” You gasped in an over exaggerated manner. Hand over your heart.
“Yeah, pretty much. In fact, that’s probably one of the worst kisses I’ve had.”
“Oh ha ha.” You laughed flatly. A slightly awkward silence followed. “We’re good right?” You asked unsure.
“Of course we are, chibi-chan, I know you have goo-goo eyes for that big mouth idiot.”
“Just how confused are you? I like Tsukishima, not Bokuto.”
“Oh my god. Goodbye. I thought you were going to bed. It’s definitely past your bed time.” He ran a hand down his face in playful annoyance. Sighing when you were out of hearing range. “You really are something, chibi-chan.”
Back inside the gym, Hinata was ranting about  his teammate.”I don’t understand how he could be so dense.”
“You’re one to talk.” Kageyama snickered, although it went completely over his head. “But I guess he realized that he was rude and went to apologize.” Kuroo froze.
“He what?”
“He went to apologize.” Hinata repeated.
“When?”
“What’s wrong?” Bokuto cocked an eyebrow at his friends abrupt worry.
“Uhh a few minutes ago, I think. He went right around the corner. Why?”
Kuroo groaned and slapped his forehead. “He probably saw it.”
“Saw what?” Lev asked as he absentmindedly tossed the ball from hand to hand.
“I kissed (y/n).”
“YOU WHAT?!”
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duchessfics · 4 years ago
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Quarantine Headcanons for Billie x Reader x Audrey
This is for Anon: Can you do another Billie Audrey and reader story they are addicting and you’re such a great reader!! Can we see one where they are in quarantine and a lot of fluff?
I know this isn’t a fic, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Also I hope you all are still staying safe and healthy at this time. And maybe these headcanons will bring a little sunshine to your day! Thank you for all of the likes and feedback! 💖
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(https://ahsdaily.co.vu/post/150514222930)
I alluded to this in my other fic at the beginning of quarantining for coronavirus, but Billie would for sure take this time to have sex with you and Audrey anywhere and in every position.
Of course there are the usual places like your bed, your shower, your bathtub, and your couch. But you end up christening the living room coffee table, the steps of your staircase, the top of your washing machine in between cycles, and even one time inside of your food pantry.
Because both Billie and Audrey are celebrities, they both take part in different Instagram lives on their own and with other people. Normally you stay out of the public eye because if they are invited to an event they only get a plus one. So they go together. But when you accidentally interrupt their shared live, people immediately are interested in you.
At first Audrey is a little annoyed at all of the attention you’re getting just for accidentally opening the door and Billie giving you a minimal introduction. But you suggest that maybe after people see you once they’ll get bored and move on. So in the next live they do, they introduce you and it helps…kind of.
Instead of people focusing on you, their audience focuses on all three of you being an item. So once a week, all three of you will sit down and do a short live. Sometimes you answer questions, sometimes you play a boardgame, or sometimes you just chat for a while. But people love it either way.
Speaking of social media, it’s early on during quarantine when you download tiktok. And while you were skeptical about the app before all of this, you do find yourself learning the dances and posting some of your own content.
Of course your girlfriends are featured in a few of your tiktoks, but they also just think it’s funny and cute to see you randomly doing the dances around the house and singing to yourself. However if they wake up to see you still scrolling through tiktok for what’s probably been hours into the middle of the night, they will sandwich you in between them and summon you to sleep by intensive cuddling.
Because of the virus, your usual staff that performs daily tasks can’t come over. So Audrey signs the three of you up for an online cooking course. In the beginning, you know most of the techniques, but you do end up refining your skill. And Billie and Audrey become much, much better cooks.
And because Audrey feels so passionate about cooking now, she decides to order plenty of seeds to plant a whole garden. And this garden is supposed to take up a large chunk of your yard. However, because all three of you have never done something like this before, you look up how to successfully plant a garden and manage to actually do it.
Once it’s completely planted, this garden is Audrey’s literal child. She will go out each morning to track each plant’s growth. Her Instagram essentially becomes one for her garden and one time when she saw a racoon trying to get some of the fruits (and vegetables) of her labor, Audrey literally ran out and chased them off before you or Billie could stop her.
Besides learning how to cook, both Billie and Audrey have to clean. You never thought you would see your girlfriends doing laundry or scrubbing toilets, but they do it. And in the process, you help them go through and declutter the entire house for the first time in many, many years. That helps to refresh the house and makes cleaning much easier.
After a couple weeks of doing these hands-on tasks Billie’s acrylics all eventually pop off. So you offer your “services” to give her a manicure and she gladly accepts. She even lets you pick out the colors. Of course Audrey joins in and incorporates special toners, serums, and facial treatments since her aesthetician is unavailable and she’s afraid of her wrinkles emerging (Which both you and Billie assure her are nonexistent, but still)
Even with all of these new tasks, after being at home for more than three months you are bored and want to change something up. Specifically you want to do something different with your hair. When you mention it, both of your girlfriends think you’re joking and say you wouldn’t even know how to pick out the right hair color let alone actually doing anything.
That angers you and only makes you more determined to prove them wrong. So you order some bleach and hair dye and secretly use them. However instead of surprising your girlfriends with a gorgeous new head of hair, you come to them with tears and completely ruined hair.
Both Billie and Audrey feel horrible seeing you so defeated, but there’s nothing they can really do except section your hair off and try to salvage what healthy hair remains, resulting in a very short haircut. Luckily the short hairstyle actually looks amazing on you! And Billie and Audrey love it as well.
Because the three of you have more time together than ever before, you’re able to be more involved with some of Billie and Audrey’s personal ventures. So when Audrey needs to practice reading her lines, you take on the other characters and read through the script with her.
Of course you speak in silly voices and make funny faces for different characters which makes Audrey giggle and reprimand you, but she does find it adorable and it helps her to remain in character better.
On Billie’s end, fortunately you are able to have access to an isolated tennis court. So you get to watch the medium play a sport that she is well-versed in. Plus seeing her in different cute tennis outfits all sweaty and wet…it just does things to you.
To try and make it fair, you and Audrey play as a team against Billie, but she still annihilates you both. While you and Audrey are exhausted and completely winded, Billie looks fully enlivened and even says this is “rusty” for her compared to when she regularly played.
Another thing you and Billie do while Audrey works virtually is check out a possible abandoned house for Billie to film at. In the beginning you are able to play it cool. However as she looks around and speaks with forces that are invisible to your eyes you begin to get the creeps.
You trust Billie, but after a couple hours of having lights flick on and off, unexplained footsteps, and cold drafts as she continues to speak to different spirits, you’re practically climbing up onto her, terrified.
Billie didn’t realize how intense the experience would be so when she sees you so scared she feels terrible. But you promise you’ll be ok. However when Audrey sees you even she notices how shaken up you are. So you share a nice, hot bath and Billie uses some cleansing techniques she has learned making you feel better. And she promises to be more aware of checking in on you next time.
A couple weeks before the date, they remember your birthday is coming up. Due to the coronavirus you can’t really do much. But they still ask what you would like to do out of the options available.
For you just being around your girlfriends is a gift in itself, but they insist. So you tell them that you would enjoy just spending a day out in nature after being cooped up for so long. Billie and Audrey take your small suggestion and go even further. On the morning of your birthday, they wake you up by serving you breakfast in bed. And it’s actually a good breakfast!
Then the three of you go to a park that is never very popular and hike a couple trails. And it just feels nice to have an outing. After hiking, you pick up take out from your favorite local restaurant and eat at home. And to finish the night off, the three of you have a campfire, make smores, and lay on a blanket to look up at the stars while cuddling and talking. Even though the day seems ordinary, this is one of the best birthdays you have had in years.
In terms of other holidays, you don’t really do too much. On Easter, Audrey convinces you and Billie to dress up and take some spring pictures in your yard. The theme was pastel colors and seeing Billie with her pearls in a blush pink dress as well as Audrey in a pistachio jumpsuit with a spontaneously made flower crown is adorable.  
On the fourth of July, you grill up some food and the three of you spend the day by the pool. The day is even more special because Billie wears an American flag bikini you and Audrey bought for her with a cherry red color on her lips that matches her nails. Seeing her laid out like that has never made you or Audrey feel more patriotic in your lives. And she knows it too.
Now because Audrey is British, you and Billie enjoy teasing her about the defeat of England. She plays along, but really isn’t bothered. Especially because both of the loves of her life were born and raised in the United States.
For the first time all three of you are able to sit back and binge Netflix and Hulu as long as you want. And when you find out a couple of movies Audrey first appeared in are coming to these streaming services you ask about watching them.
At first she says no out of embarrassment, but after you promise to not make fun of her, she lets you watch them. In reality she is the hardest on herself about her “horrible” acting and how old she looks now. But you and Billie reassure her that she performed well and still looks absolutely beautiful.
This year Audrey received an invitation to attend the met gala and planned to take Billie as her plus one. Of course Audrey knows in the whole scheme of things, going to some gala is not something to make a big deal out of. But you and Billie know how honored Audrey felt and how disappointed she is. So you get her to put on the dress and give her a personal photoshoot. Of course it’s nowhere near professional, but the photos come out gorgeous and it does lift her spirits to see them.
When the information came out about masks being important to help flatten the curve and work to prevent the spread of coronavirus, before you can even look into it, Audrey has purchased color-coordinating masks for all three of you so you can match. But at the same time they are different enough to flatter each of your personal styles. And any time you have to go out, you all make sure to wear the coordinating ones.
Originally the three of you were going to travel to England to meet Audrey’s family for the first time this summer. Of course with the coronavirus you cancelled plans, however the three of your do take the time to FaceTime her family and meet them virtually. And they are all so nice. That’s when you see where Audrey gets her bubbly and friendly personality from.
You also take the time to FaceTime your own family and Billie’s family. For the first time you feel connected to a network of loved ones outside of the three of you and it’s really nice.
Finally, because the three of you are staying home, you take the opportunity to foster pets. You have always wanted to foster neonatal kittens and this is the perfect opportunity. Plus the idea of seeing your girlfriends holding and caring for the kittens makes your heart melt.  
In the process the shelter contacts you about a dog to foster. At first, Audrey says no, but they assure you they’ll find a different foster home for them by the end of the weekend. So she begrudgingly allows it and—no kidding she falls in love with the dog.
The dog loves sniffing the kittens (but they are also lowkey terrified because they’re so small and fragile), going on long walks with Audrey, playing fetch or tug-of-war with you, and snuggling up with Billie at night. So you do end up fostering the dog and consider adoption. 
However when you meet the applicant and see the dog light up at seeing the children of the family, you know they belong with these adopters who have kids for them to play with. So…even though it’s tough and Audrey sheds some tears, you all remember the good times you had with the dog and know the kittens will be there to snuggle and provide a little comfort when you get home.
Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar, @find-me-a-constellation, @cordwliagoode, @psychobitchtess, @midnight-lestrange, @mysweetdelia, @venablesbitch, @peachesandlesbians, @nerdaroo, @cordeliafoxxe, @leskaksel, @lovelymspaulson, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @whatabluddymess​, @natasha-danvers, @saucy-sapphic​, @marvelfansince08love​, @wilheminawinters​, @dontsblameme​, @mssallymckenna​
Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!
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ao3feed-zukka · 4 years ago
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hey, batter, batter, what?
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3uHE3c3
by ofherlionheart
They hadn’t known Lava Springs Country Club was owned by the uncle of Drama Queen and her hench-brother until they arrived this morning and Azula was immediately peacocking, alternating between smirking at Katara and glaring at the rest of them: Sokka, the other East High first-liners, Teo, and Yue.
There’d been a whole thing, this past semester: Katara instantly being weirdly attached to the new student, Yue, and then coming out as a musical theater performer. Stuff happened, the hockey team and the drama department almost drove their entire high school to a civil war, then stuff got resolved, and Katara and Yue starred in the spring musical. Hakoda cried happy tears at his daughter opening up a new aspect of herself.
Sokka’s loose on the details; he mostly kept his head down and concentrated on hockey, because he’s always been an athlete and will forever be an athlete. What can he say? He’s a simple guy.
Words: 9876, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English
Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/F, M/M
Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), Azula (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), Yue (Avatar), Suki (Avatar), Bato (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar), Haru (Avatar), Teo (Avatar), Aang (Avatar)
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Yue (Avatar)
Additional Tags: the High School Musical 2 AU that no one asked for, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Bending (Avatar TV), POV Third Person, POV Sokka (Avatar), Coming Out, Getting Together, Secretly Dating, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, b/c that's zuko n azula babey :(, Underage Character(s), No Smut, but still a lil hot n heavy in that teenage way, Happy Ending, yeah this takes place in 2007, my id still responds so strongly to the chlorine n country club vibes of hsm2, Forgive Me, no beta we die like lu ten, Yue (Avatar) Lives, because she's so dead in my other long fic, hockey player sokka, actually most of them are hockey players oops i promise it has minimal bearing on the story, i just needed a commonly co-ed sport b/c katara is my troy bolton, Dancer Zuko, Zukka Week 2021, yes teo is my kelsi and what about it
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3uHE3c3
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artificial-daydream · 4 years ago
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While I Breathe, I Hope
Rating: K+ Fandom: Bleach (Ichigo x Rukia) Summary: Sometimes, it is within the unsaid that the most important message is perceived.
Notes: Entry to day 24 of IchiRuki Month 2020: I love you. This might be my first ever non-AU IchiRuki fic lol. I would like to thank @ariadnekurosaki for correcting my mistakes and being an awesome beta reader for this story - if not the BEST. I learnt so much more from spending an hour talking with her compared to my entire life in English class. All hail Ari-senpai for her sacrifice.
For as long as Rukia could remember, she had always lived precariously – without a roof over her head or enough food to eat. Then, she was found and adopted to the Kuchiki Clan, one of the four great noble families in Soul Society. Whether it was pure luck, or maybe fate, she did not know – for her sister had been married to Kuchiki Byakuya, the head of Kuchiki Clan and captain of the Gotei 13.
As such, she had never been one to dwell on her emotions. Living outdoors required wits and agility to survive; she was too busy trying to sustain herself to actually reflect on her emotions and feelings. Once she was adopted, she was too busy trying to adapt to the new environment and live up to the expectations of the clan. She had dedicated her whole life to having the perfect posture worthy of the Kuchiki name and to honing her skill with her zanpakutō. Living as Kuchiki Rukia meant throwing away everything that made up Rukia of Inuzuri.
“What is your relationship with Kurosaki-kun?”
The first time that question was asked, she had no idea how to respond. She was playing a part in the Living World, pretending to be a normal human high school student, and was having a nice lunch with other girls. Now, she wasn’t oblivious. Ichigo was pretty well-known among the school with his above-average grades and skill with sports. Although he always scowled, he was charming and attractive. A pang of guilt crept through her as she acknowledged the fact that she had taken away his prospects because of an instant decision, one he would never able to turn back from.
“Kuchiki-san?”
Once she heard her surname called, her train of thought was halted as she replied with the sweetest smile she could muster. “Ah, right,” she laughed, “Kurosaki-kun is….” She began to ponder. He is an unfortunate boy who wound up in a matter of life and death and took on a responsibility he had no reason to bear - all because of me. How could she explain this relationship?
“He is just a friend,” Rukia decided to reply, her smile never faltering despite her contemplation and bitter embarrassment.
I have no right to call him that.
The topic shifted after her anti-climactic answer. Since it was a golden opportunity for girls’ talk, if the guidebook was right about what to call it, Rukia shrugged and never brought up the discussion again. She thought the subject was only a passing question – a normal conversation girls around their age would usually engage in and then forget as they moved on to other topics. Certainly, that was not the case, as she got the same exact question right the very next day while on her way to the girls’ restroom.
“Are you sure you two are just friends?”
She had blinked at the curious looks they gave her. Now she was cornered by the wall, her line of sight swarmed with inquisitive girls who apparently knew about her latest answer regarding the issue. The guidebook was right – words spread fast among girls.
“Indeed, we are,” she said with a sing-song voice, not showing a hint of hesitation in her tone. She hoped she looked easygoing enough to convince them that she was honest because truthfully, that was the best answer she could come up with.
“But someone saw you on the rooftop with him,” one of the girls inquired, “and Kurosaki-kun bought you a juice box – he even opened it for you!”
Ah, she thought, classic human teenagers.
She spent her whole time as Shinigami in the human world observing the daily lives of humans. It seemed common for girls around their age to get all giddy about romantic approach – they tended to analyze every behavior and made assumptions about what even the smallest action meant.
Rukia cleared her throat. “Kurosaki-kun is such a gentleman, isn’t he?” she said approvingly. “I was having a little trouble opening it and he offered to help!”
The squeal of the girls showed that she had won them over. She managed to change the topic and now they would be too focused gushing about Ichigo to interrogate her any further, thank Chappy for that.
“Do you like him, Kuchiki-san?”
Her smile faltered a bit towards the unexpected question. “Huh?”
“He is so different from the usual guys, isn’t he?” Another girl chimed in. “I would totally swoon if he approached me the same way he did to you!”
“Oh.” Rukia swayed, her mind trying hard to figure a way out. “As much as I’d like to continue, I have been in the restroom too long.” She chuckled, hoping she did not sound too urgent. “My friends might be wondering where I’ve been so I should get going.”
She excused herself to go outside. Thank the heavens above she could finally breathe – but then that thought did not last long as she bumped onto something, or someone, she didn’t know – she looked up and saw the worst possible scenario she could ever expected. Rukia frowned. Not everyone had orange colored hair now, did they?
“Hey,” Ichigo grunted, “watch where you’re going, midget.”
He was the last person she wanted to meet right now.
The sounds of gasps from her back made her grimace at her miscalculation. Her escape was an absolute failure. She could never get out of this now, couldn’t she?
“Well then, excuse me, Kurosaki-kun.” Rukia walked away after sending him one of her fake smiles that he hated. The least she could do was minimize the damage, and that was exactly what she was aiming to do – until she felt her wrist being grabbed by his hand, halting her movements and causing her head to turn and look at him.
The grip on her wrist was firm. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said, voice serious and eyes determined. She knew it was something related to hollows once she heard that tone – and as a result, her focus promptly switched to an entirely different matter. To hell with damage control, now she was the one leading as she gripped his arm with her other hand, rushing to find a silent place so they could talk.
Thankfully, the staircase was empty, so Rukia quickly dragged her companion to the stairs. “Talk,” she demanded authoritatively, all humor and friendly, gentle expressions she usually faked gone in an instant.
“Ah, well,” Ichigo scratched the back of his neck, “do you think Karin might end up being like me? I don’t know,” he cleared his throat, “she always had strong reiatsu and I saw her talking to a ghost yesterday in the kitchen, so I was wondering.”
Rukia’s eyes softened. Was he worried that his sister might suffer the same fate as him? “You have nothing to worry about,” she assured him, “what I did to you was against the rules. I doubt any Shinigami would have done the same thing; most of us would never break the law of Soul Society.”
He fidgeted, “Yeah, but what if she can see you guys or hollows one day? She doesn’t have any power to fight.”
“What you did was something of impossibility. Although she is your sister, I doubt it came from some genetic factor –” Rukia truthfully answered. “It isn’t rare for humans to see dead spirits, but seeing Shinigami and hollows is an entirely different matter.”
“I see,” Ichigo did not sound too convinced, but the tension of his tone faded a little with her explanation. She supposed that was the best she could do to calm his uneasiness.
“Don’t worry, if something actually happened, I would save your sister – even if it costs my own life,” Rukia promised. After all, it was her fault from the beginning everything happened - the least she could do was make amends.
However, contrary to what she expected, Ichigo’s expression hardened at her declaration. “Don’t.”
Rukia arched an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”
“Don’t you dare sacrifice yourself, for anything,” something about his tone made her shudder involuntarily, “not even to save someone else.”
Rukia deadpanned, “That is a very difficult request. After all, it is my duty to protect humans, even if it means I need to forfeit my life.”
It was kind of ironic for him to say that, Rukia thought. His life had changed completely after she attempted to save him and his family. At first, Rukia didn’t understand the meaning of his words. Perhaps he said it because the consequences of her undoing had been so dire for the both of them, and maybe he regretted becoming a Shinigami and did not want anyone else to experience the same thing.
That was the most believable answer, or maybe the only answer she wanted to believe – that the reason he did not want her to sacrifice herself was to avoid creating another victim. She assumed that was the end of their argument, but then she took a look at his face.
He was glaring at her; she would have thought he was just angry if she had not picked up the concern in his eyes. His lips were pressed into a thin line, obviously displeased with her response but unable to order her to say otherwise because it was her life, her decisions to make. He had no right to pick her battles and override her judgements.
Her eyes trailed down to his jaw, then his shoulders. They were rigid, his arms tense and his hands fisted. “If that is the case,” he began, “I will save you each time you plan on sacrificing yourself, since I am your substitute,” he decided, eyes determined. “I swear to my soul.”
Was it his need to protect, or resolve to fulfill his duty? Rukia wished she could have concluded things that easily, but she was no fool. It was something much more than that, something entirely the same but with additional vehemence and a twist of affection. He showed her the most intense wave of emotions, something she had never seen or felt, not in the hundreds of years she had lived. Her lips automatically parted on a small exhale, a staggering realization dawning on her as she understood what he was trying to do.
He was asking for the start of something – silently, but tangibly.
She knew what this was, and he knew she understood; through the way she hugged herself with her arms and kept her eyes averted from his gaze.
Do I love him?
She wavered. Was there even enough time for them to think this through?
They had a lot on their plates. There were many things she needed to handle, and the Gotei 13 will try to track her down soon. Time was not a luxury she possessed. She had to figure out a way to get her powers back, before they found out about Ichigo and possibly involved him along this mess.
Whether I like him, whether I hate him, it’s just all so troublesome, Rukia reminded herself. Love, companionship, and friendship… It is nothing but trouble.
Her eyelids fluttered shut, she should break whatever spark this was. He was a human. Nothing should ever start between them, not even across five lifetimes. Once her power came back, she would have to leave him, and might even make him forget everything about her.
But then again, she couldn’t finish something that hadn’t started yet, couldn’t she?
So she decided not to answer – not yet. They had a lot to go through – such a fickle thing as love could wait.
“We should get going,” she croaked, “everyone else must be waiting.”
He looked taken aback, as if he did not expect her to avoid giving a certain answer. She had always been decisive; for her to dither was proof enough of how serious this conversation might be – for her, and for him.
Yet she did not reject the idea entirely, and it meant she considered the possibility too; something that might redefine their relationship. The realization flickered in him; she could see that plain as day. There was a new sentiment emerging in his eyes – one that she might regret ever giving him.
Hope for the future. And damn, was she screwed because she actually felt the same way too.
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srprincess · 4 years ago
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Guess what!?! It’s Fictober time again! So – new prompts, but I’m still out here (making an attempt at) finishing my same old fic.
Prompt 1 – “No, come back!” // fandom – omgcp // fic rating – T for language reasons
Notes: This is actually chapter 19 of the Spookydoo AU I started last fictober. I can’t believe it’s been an entire year. I guess months worth of pandemic related block and a cross country move will tend to slow these sorts of things down, but, yeah – a year. Wow. Back at the start I had thought this was going to be a quick month long project, but here we are! If you’re still following me from way back then, here’s the long promised update. If you’re new this will make NO SENSE without the rest of the story - and honestly only minimal sense after - so I’ll drop a link to the rest of the story on Ao3 in the replies (since tumblr hates links)
---
“Are you sure I don't need to head back and get them?” Will asked, for the third time.
“Nah, they’re resourceful. Quit worrying,” Nursey told him, also for the third time. At least. Maybe he had asked a few too many times.
He, Nursey, Shitty and Lardo were gathered back around the table in his kitchen, while Sammy sat at the edge of the doorway leading into the mudroom, happily chewing on a length of rope that Will had knotted up for her. He didn't have much to offer in the way of snacks while they waited, but he’d managed to scrounge up a bag of not quite stale pretzels and some cold sodas. Not the best spread, but good enough he didn't think his mom’s memory would judge him too harshly under the circumstances. Said circumstances being that these particular guests and their friends had basically wiped out his pantry over the course of their previous visits.
They were waiting, with varying levels of patience, for Holster and Ransom to show up with their lunches, and - maybe more importantly, it depended on who you asked - to tell them what they'd found out about Lou’s place. Or rather the house that she had been...haunting? It was still hard for Will to think about it that way, about his longtime friend being a ghost, but, well, could he deny it anymore? Honestly? It was strange, but if she was a ghost - which she was - and had been staying in and around the house - which she had - what else could you call it other than a haunting? At any rate, finding out the property had been sitting vacant might have explained how it could have had a ghost-in-residence for so long without attracting too much attention, but it opened up a whole other set of questions. Who would leave a house on the water empty for years? Sure, it needed some upkeep, but still, it was a nice enough place in a great spot. Where were the owners? Why hadn’t they been trying harder to sell it? Or failing that, using the property themselves? He also wanted to know more about how Lou had ended up connected to the property, but that was going to have to come from her and not a simple property search. Unfortunately, she hadn't seemed any too eager to talk about her final days when he and Nursey had talked to her earlier.
After his stomach grumbled, Nursey checked the time, again, and sighed.
“I said I could head back in for them,” Will pointed out. “It’s not an issue-”
“Might be a while, but I’m sure they're on the way,” Shitty assured him. “I think they were looking for an excuse to rent that bike, and a ride’ll take them a minute.”
“Not the tandem!” Lardo shook her head, “I thought we talked them out of that.”
“Yes, the tandem, and you tried to talk them out of it. I, on the other hand, might have offered to pay the fee as long as they took pictures.”
“They'll never make it here in one piece on that thing.”
“Oh, ye of little stature and faith, they are perfectly synced. They'll make it fine.”
“Whatever. Then why did you want pictures, hmmm? A 20 says they'll crash and burn at least once.”
“Hopefully they don’t fall on my sandwich,” Nursey muttered under his breath.
“Because Jack can't be the only one with pictures of these trips, that’s why. So, deal?”
“Deal.” Shitty and Lardo were just shaking on the bet when the sound of tires on the rocks outside was followed by a knock at the door. They all turned to look at Will, who looked blankly back before it clicked -
“Oh. Yeah. My house. My door. Best be getting that.” He rushed to the answer, more to hide his blush than out of a hurry to let the two in.
He opened the door to the double whirlwind that was Ransom and Holster pushing through, arms loaded with bags.
 Shitty took one look at them before holding his hand out to Lardo. “All in one piece. Well, two pieces. As expected. Pay up.”
“Not so fast,” she told him, attempting to shove his hand away before turning to them. “How did you manage to carry all of that on a bike?”
“No bike,” Ransom told her.
“It was already rented,” Holster added.
“Ha!” She slapped Shitty’s hand down. “No payday for you.”
“You neither,” he pointed out.
“Hmmm. I still say you owe me ten,” Lardo argued.
“The hell I do,” Shitty scoffed back.
“But if they would have ridden the bike they would have fallen, and you know it.”
“Says you. Wrongly.”
“My. What an excellent defense. I can see why you're the high-powered attorney here.” Lardo pulled a face at him before stating her case, “If they had tried to ride that bike they likely would have fallen. If they tried to ride it while holding all those bags, they for sure would have. I see no possible way that they would have made it here safely, and so I still deserve half the original bet winnings.”
 “Incorrect,” Shitty took a final sip of his drink and a deep breath before standing. Full attorney mode. “First, both these fine individuals have a history of athletic excellence in a sport known for quick moves requiring great balance skills, coordination and teamwork,” he counted off each point in his hands. “Second, they've been known to safely carry much more than a few bags of food, over unfamiliar terrain, in the dark-”
“Well, I did fall on Rans that one time we-”
Shitty hushed Holster before continuing, “Shhh - You aren't helping the case.”
“Why are we even on trial?” Ransom asked, confused. “Anyways, I remember that. Kind of. You only almost fell, bro, and we were hella fucked up that night.”
“You,” Shitty pointed to Ransom, “are helping. Thank you. As I had said - teamwork. While, errr, shall we say inebriated? They were able to use teamwork to accomplish their goals. Mostly safely. Sober, and in the clear light of day, making it here safely would have been no problem. Thirdly, if the bet had been that they `likely’ would have fallen off the bike with their arms full, I allow that you might have won. Unfortunately, for you, it wasn’t and so you didn’t. In closing, your point is dismissed for being unprovable. Case closed. The End.” He, smugly, picked his cup back up to drain the drink.
“You can't just close the case yourself-” Lardo argued.
“And yet, I have,” Shitty shrugged.
She growled under her breath, “this isn't over,” Lardo pointed at him before asking Ransom and Holster, “So, no bike? How did you get here?”
 Will, who had been watching like the exchange like it was the most interesting show he’d seen in years, and, let’s be real, with television as spotty as it was out there it kind of was, turned to them, curious himself to hear the answer.
Nursey, who had been enjoying watching Will watch the others, said, “Probably an Uber.”
“No Uber round these parts.”
“Fine, Lyft, whatever.”
“Nope, don’t have those either,” Will told him. “We do have a Martha, but there’s no way that’s how they got here.”
“What’s a Martha?” Nursey asked.
“She calls herself a taxi service, but truthfully she’s just a busybody who got herself a fair reliable rig and a business license. Let’s her keep up on who’s new around, see what they're about and then give them a mandatory tour of her favorite places. Takes her forever to get anywhere. Guaranteed it would have taken them at least another hour to get out here with her.”
“An hour!? How is this town even big enough to take that long?”
“Well, if you drop her a ’tip’ she's sure to add your place on the route, yeah? Bunch of shops do every year. That's a lot of side roads and loops. Now me? I throw her some money every season to miss The Light entirely. She would have tried stalling and distracting them as long as possible before heading this way.”
 “So, don’t take ’a Martha’, noted for future.” Ransom cut in.
“We didn't need to anyway,” Holster told the group. “Did you know, if you order food for delivery, you can get yourself delivered along with it?”
“That's not a-” Nursey started to argue before looking to Will for confirmation. “Is that a thing?”
“No. Definitely not a thing.”
Holster gestured at the bags and then at himself and Ransom, “I do believe it is.”
Will frowned, confused, “You know what...I don’t even think they do delivery at all. Outside of town, leastways.”
“You’d be amazed how far friendliness and a smile can get you,” Holster said, flashing a near alarming display of teeth.
“Maybe you should try that sometime, Poindexter,” Nursey joked.
“Ha fucking ha,” Will said, flashing a smile that veered more towards frightening than not.
“Hope you tipped well,” Shitty told Holster, ignoring the shoulder shoving across the table.
“Pfft, of course dude.”
“Good, then. Now, important business, where’s my sammie?”
A whine came from the doorway.
“Sorry, I meant my sandwich, not you Sammy,” Shitty turned to tell the dog. She sniffed in their direction, clearly looking for attention in the form of food of her own but not wanting to leave her new rope unattended. “But, yeah, her food, where’s it at? Guys?”
But he’d lost the attention of Ransom and Holster. With a nudge and a head tilt to where Nursey’s ankle was practically hooked around Will’s, Ransom smirked at Holster, who in turn sighed and pulled some money out of his pocket to hand it over.
Nursery watched the exchange before he narrowed his eyes. “And what’s this about?”
“What?”
“The money?”
“That? He owed me for the, umm, dog dishes.”
“Yeah, sure he did.”
“Right, Holtzy?”
“Absolutely, the dishes. We were going halfsies. Because, uh, gift?”
Ransom scrunched his face up before he mouthed ’gift, really?’ back at him, but Holster just gave a small shrug.
Nursey still looked doubtful and Shitty, who had given up waiting and was rooting through the bags for himself, distracted them when he asked “Well, where are they?
“Where are what?” Ransom asked.
“The. Dog. Dishes.” he answered slowly and deliberately.
“Shit. Fuck. Damn. I, uh, forgot them?”
“Uh-huh,” Nursey shook his head. “You forgot to bring the dishes. That you just bought. As a gift. Suuuure.”
“Don’t worry about it. So long as you brought the food, I can find something to put it in.” Will got up and dug through a cupboard by the sink that was little more than a jumble of used butter tubs and came up with two bowls.
 One bowl he filled with water and set in front of the dog. The other he handed them to Lardo who filled it with some of the food Shitty had found in the bags, leading to a very happy Sammy, who flopped on top of the rope before digging in with enthusiastic messiness.
“Isn’t that uncomfortable? And look at that-” Nursey pointed out the puddles and food pieces spread all around the dog.
“It’s fine,” Will waved him off.
“What about your precious floor? All I did was drip on it the other night and-”
“Oh, let her be. Unlike people, she can’t help it if she makes a silly little mess.” Will ruffled the fur on top of her head. “Besides, she’s a good girl, aren't you Sammy,” Sammy wiggled at the good girl comment and went back to happily working to empty her bowl. Dog mess was fine, Will told himself, nothing he couldn’t clean up later. He wondered if maybe he should consider a dog of his own. The company might be nice. He shrugged off the thought for later and went to wash his hands before grabbing a stack of plates to take to the table.
 All business of bets and money exchanges temporarily forgotten, the gang worked as one to pass around the lunches.
A giant sub was split between Lardo and Shitty. She flicked an olive that had stayed to her half at him, which he easily caught with his mouth before flicking a pepper back towards her. When he went to grab a drink, she swiped another pepper and one of his tomato slices too. Ransom passed her his pickle spears, and she gave him half her lettuce. Holster split his bag of BBQ chips and the salt and vinegar ones in front of Ransom between them 50-50. Okay, maybe 60-40. But neither complained. Instead of being split up, a large bag of fries was just torn open and left for each to pick from as they wanted. Ketchup squeezed out onto one of the wrappers that had previously held a wrap. All the exchanges spoke to the habits of friends who’d shared a meal many times over. Will eyed the onions that Nursey picked off his sandwich, wanting them. Even though no one else had made a move for them, he wasn’t quite brave enough to push his way into their rituals. No matter, because as soon as the look was noticed, he found them deposited on the side of his own plate. Happily piling them on his own sandwich he spared a slice of bacon back, but just one. He wasn’t that generous.
Will had originally thought they had brought back too much food not realizing some of the others had gone, but the reason for the pile of random extra sandwiches dropped in the middle of the table became clear as each was picked apart and passed around until everyone was full.
 As the last scraps of their meal were being cleared away Ransom spoke up, “So, I got in touch with that realtor,” he told them. “The property is up for sale. Technically. Has been for a while.”
“What do you mean, technically? Then why isn't it listed anywhere? Being shown?” Will asked.
“Well, that's the thing. Apparently, they tried? But the seller wasn’t very motivated and only interest at the price was for a package deal.”
“A package-” Will paused and frowned. “Wait. What was the realtor’s name again?”
When Ransom told him, Will’s face clouded over and a hint of rage built up at the set of his jaw.
“So, I take it you do know him. He said you'd, hmmm, spoken? Before.” Ransom filled in the others, “There’d been a big deal in the works with a developer, but they wanted this whole area or no deal.”
 “Yeah. Those assholes. Not likely to forget them. Wanted to turn this place into some ridiculous restaurant.”
“Waterfront restaurants can be nice,” Holster tried to play devil’s advocate, “a good draw for the area.”
Will was having none of it. “My grandfather and father both would roll over in their graves if they knew I sold this place. After all the work they put in on the updates? Especially to some stiff from away. All so someone could open a restaurant we probably wouldn't even be able to afford to eat in? No way. No how. I think not.”
Shitty agreed, “I get it, yeah. People like that’ll suck the soul out of a place to make a buck. Fuck ’em.”
They’d only met recently, and it was hard for Will to tell if Shitty was motivated to agree with him in an attempt to stay on his good side, because he actually did agree or just because he couldn't resist joining in on a potential argument. In any case, fueled by the agreement, Will’s knew he was headed into full ’soapbox mode’ but couldn't help himself. “It’s the developers ruining towns like this all up and down the coast,” his voice rose and his arms flailed as he got more worked up. “For years we’ve helped our own. Didn't need anything from anyone other than basic neighborliness. Share and share alike, and everyone makes it just fine. Then some upstart comes in with his fancy ideas and a pile of money and, and, we’re supposed to sell up and then what? Go where? Do what-”
Holster, who seemed to have finally realized what can of worms he opened up, tried to back it up, “I didn't mean- not your place. Just, like, in general? Attractions, well, attract. But you're here, using the place. There's open land out there and they shouldn’t-”
Will steamrolled on, “-always say they want the authentic experience getaway but that’s not what they're really after. What they really mean is some bland cookie cutter experience that’ll get copied at every seaside town. So they can do the same things and share the same photos as everyone else. Nothing is genuine anymore. Where’s the originality of that? If they have their way every place will be the same as the next. Whatever happened to-”
Ransom held up a hand before interrupting, “Dex is right about that. It does seem to be what they were after here.”
Will grumbled out an “Obviously” but other than that let the other man continue speaking.
 “This particular buyer wanted everything from the lane out to the water. All the lots. They’d had plans to turn this place into a restaurant, private outdoor seating at the top. The couple houses as you’re coming out this way redone and connected by a huge kitchen in the middle to make a big bed and breakfast or inn type situation. And then uh,” Ransom paused, “well, your friend's house? That was going to be turned into a gift shop. Upscale souvenirs they told him. But, without adding the rest, there wouldn't have been the traffic to support a shop. So - all or nothing.”
“There was, and is, no way I'm selling up and moving out,” Will shoved himself back from the table angrily.
“Hey, I’m not saying you should,” Ransom held up his hands. “Just passing on what he said. Pretty sure he knows that now.”
“Why do ya say that? I mean, good, but why?”
“He described you as - now keep in mind this is coming from him, and not me. I think you're great, and so don’t-”
“Spit it out.”
“he-called-you-the-lighthouse-lunatic,” came the quickly murmured answer.
“He what?!” Will yelled.
“Come on man, don't make me say it again,” Ransom said with a wince.
“He called me - Well that's - that’s rude is what it is. Imagine invading a man’s home, after he’s - then you're going to call him names? Rude. Even more glad I didn't sell. Lunatic,” Will huffed.
“I wouldn't call you a lunatic,” Holster said, as the others added their agreement. “You do get...excited, but no.”
“At the risk of getting you all, you know,” Nursey gestured vaguely at Will before scooting himself back to a safe distance and continuing, “I’m just saying, coming from a person you tried to forcibly eject days ago, is it completely inaccurate?”
“Yes!”
“Is it though?”
“I will throw you back into the ocean with my bare hands. Right now. Let’s go.”
 Nursey offered back a weak smile to show he was kidding, mostly, and the rest started to throw out other words in Will’s defense.
“Not lunatic.”
“No, of course not.”
“Excitable?”
“Touchy, edgy?”
“Nah, opinionated?”
“And, fiercely determined”
“Oh, good one.”
“And hermit like?”
“That’s territorial.”
 A woman’s voice from the other side of the room said, “he’s enthusiastically defensive.”
Nursey snaps his fingers. “Exactly!”
“Enthusiastically defensive,” Will repeated before turning and nodding in the direction of Lou, who had appeared over by the sink. “I can accept that.”
She smiled before disappearing again.
 “Okay, so, big picture-” Nursey tried to take control of the conversation, “it boils down to, without Dexy’s place here, the whole deal was off the table.”
“And other than that offer there wasn't any real interest,” Holster, who had listened in on Ransom’s call with the realtor, finished. “With no package deal, and the other house owners not willing to take the low offers coming in, he decided it wasn't worth coming all this way to show it to people who are never going to buy anyway. Without the potential sellers pushing him, he stopped promoting it. He’d almost forgotten about the listing himself because no one has ever checked up with him in the last few years. Said it was like the owners themselves had even forgotten about it.”
“Yeah yeah yeah, what he said, zombie property. But now back to THAT.” Ransom frantically waved his arms. “What the? Who the? Tell me you all heard that.”
“Uhhh well-” Will stalled.  
Ransom looked around at the rest of them, who were visibly trying not to react.
“Is no one going to mention the fucking ghost in the room?!” He shrieked. In a manly way. If you asked him, he would have called it a shout. A very high-pitched shout. That he made while pushing himself as close into the corner, behind the table, as he could.
“Oh, that’s - Lou?”
“Yes, Derek?” she answered from over his shoulder.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to call you, I was just telling him - but since you’re here-”
“Your friends seem a little troubled.”
Will snorted.
Most of them were only staring, quiet, and more than a bit shocked, but remarkable not freaking out. At least not externally. But Ransom - well, his face was doing its best fish impression and - try as he might - he couldn't manage to force another word out.
Holster tried to help by giving him a slap on the back and he managed to eke out the words `girl’ and `ghost’ before slipping under the table.
“Is he...okay?” she asked.
“Eh-” Lardo said, tilting her hand side to side.
“Not really.” Holster reached under the table and gave a supportive shoulder squeeze.
“Hi,” was all Shitty got out.
“Maybe I should go,” Lou said, slowly fading.
“Hi?” Shitty asked.
Will thought it was weird to see her fading, when he’d already found himself getting used to her quickly blipping in and out. Then he realized how weird it was he found himself getting used to anything at all to do with this situation.
“No, come back!” they all yelled. Well, all minus Ransom. He whimpered unintelligibly from his hiding place.
Lou faded back in, “are you sure?”
“Hi.” Shitty repeated, prompting a choked back laugh from Lardo.
“I think he means yes,” Will told her. “Stay a while.”
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blouisparadise · 5 years ago
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Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis is sassy.
Happy reading!
1) A Virgin To That Money | Explicit | 7366 words
AU. Harry and Louis are broke university students who hate each other and make a sex tape. (In which Louis gets fucked a lot, Harry can't find the camera, and the road to falling in love is different for everyone.)
2) Make A Run, Cause Some Rebellion | Explicit | 8824 words
As a general rule, kitten hybrids are small and disinterested in what other people want them to do, slightly evil and at least a little manipulative. Louis prides himself on being all of those things to varying degrees, but especially on being uninterested in what other people tell him to do. He’s still human goddammit, despite his pointy ears and penchant for curling up in the sun and taking naps.
He’s going about his daily business, knocking things over where he sees fit and leaving a trail of mess in his wake. As exasperated as it makes Liam he’s used to it by now, having shared a flat with Louis for almost three years now, and if Louis whines enough he’ll even clean up after him. It’s a great life, really.
With the exception of Liam’s stupid, broad shouldered, entirely too big mate, the one who always comes over to watch sports with him. Louis hates that guy. His hair is always greasy and he brings weird hipster beer with him when he comes that tastes like shit. And he won’t even let Louis have any of it, either. The only reason Louis even knows what it tastes like is because one time he stole a bottle from the fridge and fled to his room before Harry could catch him.
3) Enjoy The Ride | Not Rated | 11103 words
The one where Louis, an omega more than tired of being treated as lesser than alphas, is forced on a road trip by his beta besties only to meet Harry who might just be the alpha he never knew he wanted.
4) Ain’t No Telling Who’s In Charge Here | Explicit | 14562 words
The thing about Louis’ and Harry’s dynamic is that while Louis is the instigator of 99% of the foolishness, Harry will always come back at him with something ten times dirtier than whatever Louis had thought up. Of course, Louis can’t let that go, so he does something else, so Harry has to do something else, and then it’s a vicious cycle that continues until one of them makes a plea for a truce.
It’s like that even when they’re at home. Sometimes it’s like that especially while they’re at home, because Louis gets bored easily and Harry is just such an easy target. The point is that the kind of foolishness that Louis is known for doesn’t stop when the cameras stop rolling, so when Louis lets himself into Harry’s bedroom at 5:30 in the morning to annoy Harry into waking up before he goes for a run is completely normal and to be expected.
Except that it turns out not to be so normal.
5) Damn Your Love, Damn Your Lies | Explicit | 14860 words
“Of course you’d use your free time to go to the gym.”
“Your idea of the best way to spend your free time is annoying your neighbors,” he laughs, dimples carved into his cheeks like marble.
No, Louis likes to annoy Harry. Everyone else on this floor is just an unfortunate casualty.
“No one has complained except for you,” Louis informs him smartly. Which is actually a good thing. If someone other than Harry had complained to him long ago, he would have unfortunately had to stop.
6) Put It On Me | Explicit | 14890 words
Harry's bachelor party doesn't go as planned.
7) Friendly Neighborhood Spideypool | Explicit | 18705 words
Harry is Deadpool and Louis is Spider-Man and they've got way too much history.
8) No Place Without You | Explicit | 19089 words
Harry's in love with life and he's in love with the world.
Louis' in love with Harry and he doesn't think there's any way he can possibly compete.
9) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23561 words
Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.
10) Etched In Salt (Is A Cathedral Of The World) | Explicit | 24416 words
Note: This fic has BH mentions and is locked, meaning it can only be read by AO3 users.
Louis asks for very few things in life, and they are: to solve cases, to keep bad people from doing their bad things, to get good coffee, to go home to a spacious apartment with nobody else in it, and to manage his stupid telempathy powers with minimal interference. And now he's stuck in a tiny cabin in a snowstorm in the middle of god-awful-nowhere with Harry Styles. Because of course he is.
11) Like A Siren In The Night | Explicit | 24868 words
“There is an infestation in my home,” Louis hisses, righting himself quickly and pushing his way past Harry, heading directly for the kitchen. He’s rather haphazardly dressed himself, a coat thrown on over a loose flannel shirt and black pants, slippers on his feet.
Harry resists the urge to sigh, closing the door and trailing behind him slowly. “What kind of infestation?”
For all he knows, Louis is going to claim that there’s a ghost infestation. Harry has no idea what the end game is here – all he knows is that Louis has found at least three complaints a week to bring up since he’s been living on Harry’s property, and he’s been living here for six months.
It’s way too many fucking complaints, is what Harry is saying. Especially when most of them are ridiculous to start with.
12) When It’s Late At Night | Mature | 25597 words
Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that's exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.
13) Up To No Good | Explicit | 26525 words | Sequel #1 | Sequel #2
Harry doesn’t think of himself as a womanizer, not at all. Sure, he enjoys sex, enjoys how women feel underneath him, and by some people’s standards he has sex with quite a lot of people, but that’s no reason to tell him that he can’t have a female PA anymore.
It’s especially no excuse for giving him a male PA who’s possibly the most gorgeous boy in the world who won’t even let Harry look at him for too long.
Sometimes Harry hates his life.
14) Can’t Fool Men | Explicit | 30162 words
AU where Louis hates fraternities and would never be into a frat boy. And one of these things is definitely not a lie.
15) Have You Coming Back Round Again | Explicit | 31086 words | Sequel
It’s five o’clock in the morning. Louis has a lecture at half eight. He could be using this time to study or to do his readings or to go to the gym, but - well. He doesn’t have any exams coming up, he’s not going to his seminar today anyway and he hates the gym.
Instead he’s using this time to fuck with Harry Styles’ poor little brain.
Louis jogs across the street and jabs the key into the car door. It opens easily, not that he was expecting anything else. He copied the key for a reason, after all.
He’s got Harry’s schedule memorized, more because the guy keeps following him around than anything, so he doesn’t bother looking around before climbing behind the wheel and setting his bag on the passenger seat. It’s a Monday, which means that Harry doesn’t even get out of bed before noon unless he’s planning on harassing Louis.
16) Mine Now | Explicit | 32254 words
Note: This fic has since been deleted. If you’d like a PDF, please ask us off anon.
This is the story of how Harry finds himself pouting in Louis’ passenger seat with a raging boner on the way to seduce his ex boyfriend.
17) Not Quite | Explicit | 34163 words
As Harry prepares for the premiere of his first blockbuster film, his manager encourages him to hire a bodyguard as a precautionary measure. Harry ends up making an unusual choice.
18) Promise You’ll Remember That You’re Mine | Explicit | 34654 words
What he doesn’t expect is to see Louis in their bathroom wearing panties. Not even like standard panties, they’re fucking black and sheer so Harry can see Louis’ full arse and there’s even lace trimming the edges. He nearly has a heart attack.
Harry’s face probably looks like a bright red tomato, and if not then the only other option would be that all his blood is going to his dick, because Louis looks like a fucking wet dream.
“Oh, you’re back.” Louis looks as nonchalant as ever, when Harry is over here freaking the fuck out.
19) Is This Seat Taken? | Explicit | 35507 words
Note: This fic has mentions of BH and is locked, meaning it can only be read by AO3 users.
Louis makes a bet with Zayn that he can sneak into a music awards event without getting caught, and when he ends up posing as a seat-filling member of staff he runs into superstar Harry Styles and sparks fly.  Que the music.
20) Kiss Me On The Mouth And Set Me Free (But Please Don’t Bite) | Mature | 42074 words
Harry is the CEO of Flora Corp, Louis is his new secretary.
21) Can I Not Like You For A While? | Explicit | 43383 words
Louis Tomlinson is awful. Harry is just as difficult, and they're both terrible to each other. It makes being in the same acapella group together quite complicated.
22) Drowning In Your Eyes | Explicit | 45145 words
The Pirates of the Caribbean inspired AU where Harry is a fierce pirate who holds the heart of a beautiful merman.
23) Tangled Up In You | Explicit | 45152 words
Harry blinks once. And blinks again. And says, his voice dangerous: “Niall, did you get me a mail-order bride?”
Because what the actual fuck. It kind of looks like Niall’s just purchased a person. For Harry.
Niall blinks back at him for a few moments, before throwing his head back and howling with laughter. Harry throws a pillow at him. Hard. “No, what the fuck, Harry.”
“A prostitute then?” Harry also doesn't want a prostitute.
“Of course not!”
“A stripper?”
“No!”
Damn, he’s running out of ideas. He settles for launching another pillow at Niall’s head. Niall bats it away easily, still laughing. “Stop!”
“What did you get me, then?!” Niall must hear the tinge of hysteria in his voice, because he’s pulling himself together, trying to stop himself from laughing.
There’s still a big grin on his face, though, when he says, “I got you a professional cuddler.”
A professional…what. “What?”
24) We’ll Get It Right In The End. | Explicit | 53612 words
Harry Styles is what the media is currently revolving around. He's young, he's attractive and apparently good at everything. A singer song-writer and the new face of Captain America soon encounters himself amidst a problem when he finds himself falling for the person he's not supposed to, an elite professional escort, Louis Tomlinson.
25) Amazing Sin | Explicit | 56034 words
The story of Louis ‘Steal Your Man’ Tomlinson.
26) This Wicked Game | Explicit | 70010 words
An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.
27) Waiting On You | Explicit | 76584 words
“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.
 Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.
“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.
 Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.
28) Swim In The Smoke | Explicit | 101778 words
“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.
Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.
“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.
29) Blue Ice | Mature | 102967 words
An AU where Louis finds himself in a marriage he didn't bargain for.
30) A Taste Of Desire | Explicit | 104414 words
A Victorian ABO where Harry is the owner of the most successful cotton mill in Manchester, and Louis is an opinionated social activist about to disrupt Harry’s world.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
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littleorangecactus · 5 years ago
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Go with your head
This is really long but it is a slow burning parrlyn fic with Aragon and Jane acting as parental figures to Anne.
This is for @politics-notmything per her request for fluff to wake up to!
“Jesus FUCKING Christ!!” Anne screams as slams her head against her pillow. She has spent the past half hour trying to devise a plan to ask Cathy out, and it hasn’t gone anywhere. It wasn’t like it was bad enough that she likes her best friend, she also can’t get up the courage to ask her on a date. Suddenly there are footsteps surging up the stairs, yanking ion her door.
“WATCH YOUR LANGUAG-“ Aragon and Jane came to an abrupt halt at the sight of their little gremlin in tears. “Oh sweetie what’s wrong??” Jane coos as she rushes to wrap her arms around Anne. The teenager sniffles, moving to wipe away her tears so as to not get made fun of. “Nothing,” she mumbles into Jane's shoulder. “What was that darling?” Jane asks gently, stroking Anne’s hair while she looks to an un-amused Aragon by the door. “I can’t talk about it alright!” She screams, pulling away from Jane and shuffling into the corner of her bed. “You need to watch yourself Boleyn!” Catherine steps close to the bed, making sure she’s there if this goes wrong for Jane.
Anne falters, taking in the two faces of the women before her. Aragon has a look of confusion and unsteadiness, watching to see what Anne will do next. She huffed to herself, saying she didn’t care about what Aragon thought of her, even though she did. But the look of hurt and sadness on Jane’s face is enough to do her in. Big, pooling tears come fast from her eyes as she starts to sob, the anxiety coursing through her over this date getting too much. Jane immediately grabs her and wraps her in her arms, Aragon joins in to rub curled on her back for comfort. “I..I’m so stupid!” She cries, leaning into Catherine’s touch. “You are no such thing! What on earth makes you think that?!” Jane questions her, a socked look on her face. “I want to ask if Cathy will go out with me, but I can’t think of what to say. I keep thinking of the worst ideas, and I don’t even know if she even likes me yet!” Anne finally spills the secret that had gotten her so upset in the first place.
In seconds, Jane is back to cooing her and she strokes her hair, while Catherine gets stiff. “You want to do what exactly?” She asks Anne, looking at her with a glare only Anne could get. “I... I know you don’t like me, but this is serious. I really like her, like I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t see her smile everyday. Like I couldn’t picture life without her, I don’t even want to ask her because I know this could hurt the group! But every time I look at her and think it couldn’t ever work, Cathy looks at me with a soft smile, and I fall for her dorky self all over again.” Anne is begging Aragon at this point, trying to get her to see her intentions. Aragon softens a little, putting up a front for the girl. “Well did you even think about things she likes?” She questions softly. Anne’s head whips around. “I know she loves books and coffee. I know she doesn’t know that I watch as she likes to sit outside and watch the birds fly around as she works on her books. I know she likes quiet things most of the time, I know she doesn’t agree with sports, I know she likes heartfelt gifts.” Anne lists the facts about Cathy that she knew on her fingers, proud that she could remember them all.
Jane looks at her with tear filled eyes, seeing Anne so open and soft about someone wasn’t a sight many saw. “Well darling, why don’t you put some of those things together? I’m sure you could use her love of books, food, and the outdoors to get her to say yes!” Her eyes brighten as she tries to help the little girl in her arms. “Set up something special for her, things that she would like around her.” Catherine gives a slight smile as she adds her input into this. Knowing her goddaughter very well, she could help give the right answers. Anne’s head shoots up and she jumps out of bed and goes into her closet. “I GOT IT. I KNOW WHAT IM GONNA DO!” Digging around she finds her favorite sweater, throwing it on her body. Pulling her hair up in messy space buns, she turns back to the bed. “I’m gonna set up a picnic with her favorite foods and some books so we can relax in the park!” She smiles as she relays her idea, nervous at the reactions. Both queens on the bed smile brightly at her, nodding their heads happily. “If you would like dear, I could go get the basket ready while you ask Cathy to go with you?” Jane offers, with a big smile. “I will make sure all other things needed will be there as well” Catherine stands, pulling Anne into her. “I know you won’t, but if you hurt her, I do know where you sleep.” She whispers quietly.
Jane shushes her and they both go their separate ways to get the surprise ready. Anne was so excited as she walked over to Cathy’s office. Knocking quickly, she stands there waiting for Cathy. “What can I do for you?” Come a voice from the doorway, as Cathy opens it for Anne. “I would like it if you would come with me somewhere. It’s a surprise, but you’re gonna love it. I promise.” Anne smiles as she grabs Cathy’s hand. The sixth queen giving her a questioning look before the puppy dog eyes set in. “Alright alright!” She huffs, turning back into her room to get ready. Anne beams as she waits for Catherine to get ready, heading towards the kitchen to wait. “In here are some of her favorite foods; different fruits, grilled cheese sandwiches, a little thermos of coffee, all ready!” Jane smiles brightly as she hands it to her. Aragon comes in with a blanket and 2 of Cathy's favorite books that were left in the living room. “Here are some other supplies you need. Be careful, but have a good time.” She smiles softly at the second queen before her. Anne’s eyes begin to tear up at the generosity of her fellow queens as Cathy comes into view.
“I’m ready to go, but I swear Boleyn, if this is anywhere near the stunt you pulled at the water park, you’re sooo dead.” She exclaims, walking over to the other three women. “It won’t be I promise, and I said I was sorry for drenching you’re book! I was aiming for your head, you moved!” Anne throws back at her lightly. Cathy rolls her eyes, while looking at the basket in the teens hand. “Okay everything is set, let’s get going!” Grabbing Parr’s hand, she pulls her to the car, setting the supplies in the back. Looking over to her she laughs, “This won’t take but a minute to get there so don’t get too comfy.” They pull out of the driveway and start towards the park. The radio playing lightly is the only noise as Anne focuses on driving and Cathy watches the world pass by the window. After a bit, the get to the park and Anne jumps out to get the basket of goodies before opening Parr’s door. Looking at the girl for permission, she grabs Cathy’s hand and they walk to an open, quiet area. Setting out the blanket and the books, Anne sits down and gestures Cathy to follow. The fellow queen stands there staring at her. “What’s all this?” Cathy asks with confusion covering her face. “Well..I wanted to ask you if maybe, you wanted to, and you don’t have to, but maybe go out with me?” Anne looks up as she says these words, innocence and fear written on her face.
Looking at the scene before her, Cathy sits down and grabs Anne’s hand. “Wait I don’t understand. You did all of this, just to ask me if I’d go out with you?” She looks into Anne’s eyes and sees a nervous girl looking back at her. “Ye- well I’m not sure... you know what forget it, this was a bad idea!” Anne turns away blushing and hurt at the questioning look and starts to gather things up. “Wait! wait! I’m not upset! I just..I didn’t know you felt this way!” Cathy grabs her hands to stop her. Anne looks at her again, “ I have wanted to ask you out for about 4 months now, I just didn’t know how.” She confesses. Her shoes now more interesting than they were three seconds ago, she looks down, not daring to look at Catherine. Cathy smiles and tilts Anne’s chin to look at her. “No one has ever done anything like this for me. Ever. Not Henry, not Thomas, nothing even close. I can’t believe you went through all this trouble for me. Anne I have likes you for ages, I just didn’t think you’d like me back!” She scoffs with a laugh, looking into Anne’s eyes. “Of course I will go out with you, I’d like nothing more. You put so much effort and time into this, the caring alone makes you so special to me.” Smiling at her, she leans in and pecks Anne’s cheek. The fellow queen turning a beet red, smiles brightly back at her. “I brought your favorite foods and books so we can stay here and have a nice lunch before heading home, if you want. Jane and Aragon helped set it up, with only minimal threats to my life!” She jokes, while grabbing the snacks out of the basket. “This is so sweet of you, of the queens to help as well. Remind me to talk to them about those threats though.” She said with a faux angry look. Giggling softly she leans into Anne as they enjoy their day with each other, just sitting in the other’s company.
Packing up and heading home, the pair held hands the entire way, Anne with a dopey look on her face, and Cathy with a bright smile. Pulling into the driveway, they head inside towards the living room, talking softly to each other. Looking up at the noise, Jane smiles as she and Catherine pause the movie they were watching. “Did you girls have fun?” She asks with a knowing smile, the interlocked hands a dead give away. “We did actually. I’m surprised to say it was the best date I have ever been on.” Cathy replies with a smile, looking at Anne as she spoke. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves. Now you two come join us, it’s movie night and the other two are coming soon!” Aragon smiles as she snaps back into the order of their routine, her smile shows how happy she is for the two young girls. The pair roll their eyes but head towards the couch, getting comfy as the noise around them blurs out, the feeling of each other’s hands all that matters in that moment.
The end!
I hope you like it, and I’m so sorry that it was so long but I needed the angst to get to the cute mess that the pairing is. If you have anything you want to change, please let me know!
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diary-of-deadweight · 5 years ago
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BNHA short(kinda): My dude you just got PRANKED!
A Trolling Neito Monoma fic.
Authors note: this was inspired by a prompt I found on Pinterest.
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Credit to rebel circus. (I had to squint to see if I was reading it right.)
Summary: after being tasked with vandalising one of monoma’s dress shirts, he’s out looking for the perpetrator but with less then stellar luck it seems.
“For today’s homework assignment-“ a unified groan resounded throughout the classroom at the prospect at doing homework until their hands ached made Aizawa’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance of being interrupted by the slackers of the class like Denki, Kirishima, Mina and Sero to name a few, “do you think the hero life is all glitz and glamour?” Asked the blunt, dry eyed and sleep deprived homeroom teacher rhetorically, awaiting the snarky comments to fly out of the kids mouths like bullets about how boring or how necessary they thought homework was when in actually it played a big factor, especially to those in the hero course, so when he heard the sweet sound of silence, something he wished would be a daily occurrence in Class 1-A but alas he could only dream and savour this moment into his head as it’ll be the only time it happens throughout the rest of the semester, “the answer I was looking for was no, even the pros have to do paperwork day in day out but you don’t hear them complain about it to the public now do you? So grow up and pretend to be ecstatic.”
He then proceeded to hand out the homework to everyone in the class one by one before proceeding to explain the material to you all, “ your homework, before I was so rudely interrupted,” He casted a sharp gaze to the Bakusquad in specific that it almost made Denki short circuit, “ is to create a constructive criticism analysis on your assigned classmate, I made sure that no one got anyone they were familiar with so you’ll make use of your brains for once, and how they can improve as a hero going forward into this course, it’ll be due in this time next week, class dismissed.” Aizawa waved all of you off, just in time as the bell rang out for lunch as he proceeded to crawl into his iconic yellow sleeping bag like a caterpillar who came out of his cocoon too early, which was apparently funny to you as that was exactly how you acted after a harsh day of training and a body load of aching muscles, scrapes and bruises, you couldn’t really complain though as becoming a hero requires intense training regimens and strict diets, so you knew that Aizawa was only doing what was beneficial for everyone in getting maximum results; you knew everyone in your class had the potential of becoming an awesome hero one day...except for Mineta...he’d be the biggest disappointment, you don’t have anything against the little creep but his personality stank like dog shit and it shows, no wonder his only ‘friend’ was the electric blonde with a short circuitry problem, you could withstand the flirtatious dunce more so then grape stain.
“Oi idiot,” a gruff voice cut through your thoughts like a hot knife through butter, turning your attention to the ash blonde leaning against the doorway, bag slumped over his shoulder as he stared at you with furrowed brows and crossed over arms, “you coming or do I have to drag you to eat something?”
“I’m coming, I’m coming keep your pants on angry chihuahua.” He growled at the nickname and that was pretty much all he did while you grabbed your bad and shove your notebook and your assignment inside with haste to then run out the door in order to catch up with Bakugou and his big ass strides that somehow didn’t falter under the weight of his big ass head as your journey to the canteen was riddled in silence and minimal conversations, which you didn’t really mind as you’d probably gain a headache if you went with Mina, Kirishima, Denki and Sero instead, you really didn’t know how Bakugou could deal with that constant noise and to be honest, he couldn’t stand it. At all. So he resorted to blocking out people’s obnoxious voices whenever he was with the group but today he decided that he should just walk to the canteen with you as you weren’t the most talkative nor were you a walking, talking headache either, something he appreciates but would refuse to admit it as his big ass ego stops him from doing so.
“Who did you get for the assignment,” he asked, straight to the point as ever, not bothering to engage in eye contact with you.
“Don’t know, I haven’t looked yet if I’m being honest.” You confessed, shrugging your shoulders, not really seeing why it would be of any consolation to him. “Well take a look now, no ones stopping you from doing so dumbass, you aren’t a dog patiently waiting for a treat.” He reaches a hand up to flick you on the forehead as if punishing your for your idiocy as you instinctually reached up to rub the spot he flicked to be rid of any stinging sensations, “your so mean katsushi!”
“It’s Katsuki. You dingbat.”
“Nope I’m pretty sure it’s Katsushi”
You two went back and forth like this for the rest of the walk so that when you were nearing the entrance of the canteen you noticed that Bakugou stopped walking some time ago, so turning to ask him what was wrong only to see his face contorted into anger at whatever he was seeing before him that was somewhat invisible to you for some reason the more you looked round the two of you fruitlessly, “ Oi Katsushi, what are yo-“ he grasped your cheeks in his hand with little to no pressure, turning your head so you could see where his scarlet eyes had narrowed in on.
It was class 1-Bs copy cat, the lilac eyed and avid hater of 1-A, Neito Monoma, the usually smug blonde was currently harassing all your friends, claiming that one of them at that table had vandalised his dress shirt that had scrawled across the back of it in blue marker and pretty pink glitter that was super glued within the heart outline was :
‘I ❤️ class 1-A’
You would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for Bakugou cupping your face in his hand so instead all that came out of your mouth was incoherent spluttering which earned you some weird stares from the students walking past you and the crimson eyed time bomb to get into the canteen as you two were well...kinda blocking the path but no one was brave enough to say anything about it due to the Male next to you, speaking of the Male next to you, Bakugou had a smirk plastered on his face that would -hopefully, for his case- come off as cocky before his face automatically rested to his 24/7 ‘I’m going to kill you and make it look like an accident’ face the second Monoma caught sight of the two of you and was now currently in front of your faces, ignoring the personal space he was invading, by this time Bakugou finally let your face go from his grip as he clenched his fists at the sight of the copy cat that tried to make a fool out of him during the Calvary battle at the sports festival.
“Are either of you 1-A scumbags gonna fess up for tarnishing my shirt?!” The lilac eyed egotist shoved his -surprisingly- nice smelling dress shirt mingled with the scents of blueberry scented marker and dried glue under your noses as you mentally groaned at the intoxicating smell of men’s cologne but mainly one in specific and it seemed that Monoma HAD that specific cologne that made you weak in the knees, you just wanted to know what it was called so you could get bottles of it for yourself damn it!
“Why would your dumbass assume that it was me who did it huh? You’ve got some big balls copy cat” Bakugou stated with a scowl, staring Neito down just as he did the same, you swore you saw a little bolt of lighting spark between them the longer they looked at each other as if they were in a cliche anime where two of the characters stare each other down in anger with a bolt of light is struck between them to add effect for their feud or something while you tried bidding the fact that you were about to blow a fuse trying to hold back your laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation, to find your self slowly weaken and loose self control.
‘I can’t this is too funny!’
With that you bursted our laughing so hard that you had to lean into Bakugou for support so that you don’t fall to the tiled floor in a heap of laughing limbs, unable to stop for the time being, surly Monoma had more then just one dress shirt in his closet right? Unless it was his favourite dress shirt but still a reaction to a harmless prank like this was totally unnecessary and a tad dramatic for your tastes that when you finally calmed down from your laughing fit, you unknowingly gained the attention of nearly everyone in the canteen, who turned to see what the unnecessary loud laughing was about.
“ I didn’t do it Neito, I’m not that petty.”
“Then why did you laugh as loudly as you did, only people who committed the crime laugh as loudly as you did just now, so why don’t you admit it (l/n) and confess that you vandalised MY shirt.” Neito squinted his eyes suspiciously as if to get you to crack under pressure but what was there to crack when there is no pressure being placed upon, he was that bad at trying to get you to crack that you didn’t really feel like you were being put under pressure as of right now while Bakugou could only scoff and roll his eyes at Neito’s quick judgment.
“I was laughing because (1) it’s a natural response to something this stupid and (2) who ever did it is a freaking genius!” You defended yourself as the patience within Monoma was wearing thin and his plasticine face was growing redder by the second as he huffs in annoyance, turning on his heel and stomping back to his table to sulk about his tainted shirt to his reluctant classmates who found the situation just as ridiculous as you did.
So as you and Bakugou were waiting in line for some spicy curry he turned to you with a knowing look in his eye, “ you did it didn’t you?”
“What gave it away mr observant?”
“The scented markers and the glitter pot you “borrowed” from raccoon eyes’ room with false promises of returning it one day.”
You nodded your head, turning your head towards the line in front of you with an equally knowing look in your eyes, “well done Katsushi, I was dared by Denki to do so...plus I had some inside contact within class 1-B who found Monoma just about as intolerable as we do.”
Bakugou only grunted in response as he looked back at Monoma’s table where the blonde had his head resting upon the shoulder of a tense Tetsutetsu or ‘man of iron’ you had him named in you contacts.
“But seriously who’s the idiot you got before copy cat shoved his prized possession in our faces.”
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mrs-dragneel-stark-solo · 5 years ago
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Unforseen Chasm (part30)
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Part 30 of Unforseen Chasm
Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together. Word Count: 2380 Warnings: language, anger,  betrayal,  murder vibes only hehehe. Angst that goes balls to the walls XD Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93 what was first a simple “what if” moment turned into a two year writing session and I’ve never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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“She’s gonna be alright, right?” you asked, biting your nail as you sat beside her bed holding her hand, Charles and Jean on the opposite side of the bed.
“Oh yes,” he assured. “She’s merely sleeping. You two have quite a unique affect on each other,” he noted, giving you a fond look.
“So… tell me again. I’m triggered if someone talks about Loki negatively, and she’s triggered by emotional strain?”
“Exactly,” Jean areed. “While I was in your head… It’s almost as if someone rewired you. Someone got inside your head…”
“That would make sense because as much as I love Loki, I wouldn’t dream of hurting you all over him. He’s done bad things, and so have I but… we had no choice. You can have your opinions and judge him, so I don’t understand why speaking badly of him would make me go beserk,” you said, thinking aloud.
“Whoever threatened you two and brainwashed you into that attack, must’ve done it. He turned the love you two have for each other almost toxic. Not to each other, but to the world.”
“Why? What's the point?” you asked, so confused. 
“To keep you fighting. Your mission was to take over Earth, and what happens to someone who comes in and attacks us? We fight back. If the threat of losing your loved ones wasn’t enough, the person controlling you had to make sure to keep your anger alive. With Loki turning into public enemy number one, it would turn you into his biggest defender,” Jean explained.
For a moment, you sat there, angry and stewing. “So you’re saying, the more someone wanted to fight Loki, the more I wanted to fight them? That’s so… awful.”
“Yes, my dear, it is,” Charles concurred. “And Shannon absorbed that brainwashing when she took on your powers, but her mutation twisted it so that any emotional strain makes her powers more powerful, and her body weaker.”
Logan and Scott had left the room, to let Shannon heal and they had to work on things around the school and keep an eye on kids. But that left Steve in a corner looking worried; Remy in the other corner, closest to you; the two telepaths; you; and Shannon.
Just as you were about to inquire further about Shannon’s state, the door swung open. You assumed it would be Storm or Jubilee, coming to check on things or retreive Charles. But instead, you heard a voice that sent chills down your spine.
“Hey, hun, how are the sessions go--” Tony’s voice sounded, but he stopped. You weren’t sure if it was the sight of you or the sight of Shannon in the bed, as if she were under a hospital’s care.
You slightly turned to face a man you’d come to fear. Hell hath no fury like Tony Stark scorned…
When you turned around, his face was that scary, livid, rigid expression he wore when he was past the point of being done.
“Why the fuck are you here?” he demanded in a booming voice, pointing at you as he started to march towards you. “How the hell did you escape?” he ordered.
In an instant, Gambit was in front of you, as you shrunk away in your chair.
“Now hold up there, old man,” he said, trying to ease the tension and trying to get Tony to back up, but he wasn’t having it.
“Out of my way, cajun,” Tony warned in a low voice. “Do you know you’re protecting a criminal? A terrorist?”
“Tony, please,” Charles slightly pleaded. “You’ll only make things worse.” Just as he had said it, the monitors had begun to beep rapidly. Everyone turned to see what was going on.
“Jean, go get Logan. He needs to get Mr. Stark out of this room now,” Charles ordered moving to Shannon’s side to get ready to enter her mind. Tony was worried about her but was still livid that you were somehow here and not back at the tower.
“Steve, I need to you take Y/N back to the tower and secure it so that she cannot leave the cell,” Tony ordered not looking away from you. If looks could kill… he would have killed you twice -- viciously.
“Tony, I’m not leaving Shannon here by herself,” Steve said, worried about her health, seeing how much Tony’s anger was making her weaker than she was a while ago. “You need to calm down. She’s absorbing your emotions and it’s deteriorating her health,” he said with a little more urgency.
Charles used the distraction to enter Shannon’s mind and began locating where in her memories she could be hiding. He could feel a strong pull towards a memory. Following the pull, he reached a memory of what looked like years ago. Shannon was young and was in what looked to be a training room. Curious, Charles entered the memory seeing Shannon was watching her younger self fight with an equally young redhead.
“Shannon, dear, I need you to come with me, You’re letting Tony’s emotions weaken you,” he said approaching her. “Any more time you spend asleep will lead you to entering a coma,” he warned her hoping to get her to look over.
“Hello, Charles. I could sense someone’s anger I just couldn’t figure out whose it was. What’s he doing here?” she asked looking briefly at him then back at herself. “This is the one memory I always seem to find myself returning to…” Her voice had a twinge of sadness as if she’d hoped for something different. “What am I going to tell him, Charles? He didn’t know I had been releasing Y/N to come here for help,” she said with disappointment at herself.
“My dear, there’s no way that he could hold that anger towards you. The worry he holds at this time is much greater,” he said reaching for her hand. “Come now, we must leave this for another day. You must awaken.” She reached for his open hand and allowed him to take her back to where the chaos was happening.
“Tony, I--” you started, hoping to maybe say something, anything to calm him down. But before you could get anything else out, Remy stood beside you, and wrapped a hand over your mouth to keep you from making the situation worse, the other hand wrapping around your shoulder. Remy knew you, and he knew Tony. Tony was usually never one for talking when he was pissed.
“If someone doesn’t get her out of here, I’m about to suit up and take her there myself,” Tony warned.
Charles had returned from Shannon’s mind and had heard what Tony said. Looking over to Shannon in the bed waking up, he knew she’d stop him from doing such a thing.
“No. You won’t…” she said, making everyone look over to the bed. “I might not be well but that won't stop me from holding you down, Tony,” she said as a warning.
You looked over to her and physically sighed with relief knowing she’d finally woken up.
“You would fight me… for her?” he asked, pointing to you, peering at his beloved. “Wow. And I actually thought I meant something to you.” It came out sarcastically, but the hurt was evident in his eyes.
“I'm not about to have the two most important people in my life rip each other to shreds,” she said, looking torn between defending her friend and standing up to the man she loved.
“Shan, I'm not going to fight him,” you said. Remy had eventually let go of your mouth. “Tony… Take me back to the tower if you like. I’m not going to fight you, or hurt anyone,” you promised solemnly.
“Y/N--” Shannon started, protesting.
You held up a hand, not looking at her. “No, Shannon, it’s okay. He has a right to be furious. I escaped. I’m a prisoner… a terrorist… a criminal..” Your eyes lifted to meet Tony’s. “He can escort me back and do with me as he sees fit. I won’t give him any trouble.”
“Well, can’t say it wouldn’t have been fun to fight you. But sometimes the easy way is nice too,” Tony said, walking forward to grab your upper arm.
“Y/N, are you sure?” she asked. ”You’re not a criminal, you’re a victim of a heinous plan.” She sounded upset. Looking towards Tony, he could see her unshed tears. “I was trying to help her lose the powers she didn’t want. To bring back some sort of peace.” A single tear slipped down her cheek. “I love you, Tony but not everything is what it looks like…” Turning her gaze to Steve she waved him over.
“What can I do for you, doll?” he asked, sounding concerned for her health.
“Take me to the tower, I’d like to rest in my old room,” she whispered to him.
“If that's what you want,” he affirmed, not sure if he should take her home just yet. Looking to Charles he asked if she was able to leave. “Is it safe for her to go home?”
“Her vitals are back to normal, she’s more than welcome to go.”
“Shannon… Let me take you home,” Tony offered. “I can have Steve take her,” he said, a touch of venom in his voice when he referred to you.
As she slowly stood and Jean got the monitoring systems off of her, and Steve helped her to stand, she shook her head. She weakly responded, “Tony, I’d… I’d like to be away from you for right now…”
With that, Tony’s gaze dropped, and he tugged you along with him. He didn’t break his grip until the two of you got to the car and he practically threw you at the shiny, burgundy vehicle.
“Get in,” he ordered as he rounded the front.
You obeyed immediately. You got in, strapped in, and tried to scoot to the far edge of the seat. But in a sports car, the room was minimal. Tony fired up the engine, and sped off the property.
For the first several minutes, he was silent, both hands gripping the wheel tightly.
“I’m sorry,” you started, hoping it would be a good place to begin.
“Yeah? For what? Breaking out? Tricking Shannon? Killing dozens of people? Should I go on, or is that enough to start with?” he mocked, glancing over once.
“I didn’t trick Shannon,” you quietly retorted.
“You may have fooled her, but I’m not so easily bought.”
“Tony, I’m not selling anything. I just told her I felt something was weird with these powers and she offered to take me to Xavier’s. I didn’t ask her to.”
“Do you have any idea how serious this is? How much trouble I could be in if anyone saw you? How much trouble you would be in if--” He spewed out different scenarios. He sounded more like an angry parent than someone in charge of the world’s worst felon who just escaped prison.
“Tony… I am sorry. We were very discreet. No one ever saw me leave the tower or my cell, I swear. I didn’t do this to get you or anyone else in trouble.”
“You know, I actually came down to your cell today to tell you that you were up for parole… and you break out. Nice timing. Real nice timing.”
“I’m up for parole?” you asked, expectation rising in your voice and chest.
“Not anymore,” he said, gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles were white.
You wanted to protest, you wanted to fight it, bargain with him, plead with him… But what good would it do?
“I’m sorry,” you tried again, your voice the softest it had been.
“God. Would you stop saying that?” he asked, clearly irritated. “It’s not like it means anything.”
“Tony, I’m going to keep saying it to you until you believe it. Because I am. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. I am sorry for throwing you out of a window. I’m sorry for bringing monsters to Earth. I’m sorry that I hurt Shannon, in more ways than one. I’m sorry you have to watch her suffer and choose between you and me.”
“Stop!” he ordered, getting fed up with you.
“I’m about to say something, and I don’t want you to say a word. Okay?”
All he did was roll his eyes and gestured for you to continue.
“I love you. I still do. I still think you’re my friend. I know you’re hurting. I know you’re in a shitty position, and I didn’t make it easy on you. I know you wish you could trust me. I know you’re more hurt than I could ever imagine when you look at me. I know you miss the good times we used to have and I know you wished all of this would’ve turned out differently, so do I.”
“Don’t act like you know me,” he stated, a slight tone of irritated pleading to his voice. “Don’t act like we’re friends.”
“But we used to be,” you reminded softly.
“Yeah, used to be. Key word there.”
You ignored the sting in your chest that brought on. “Well… this is what is is… And I just want you to know… If I could take this all back, I would. I would trade my soul to undo the damage I’ve caused everyone.”
“Wow that isolation in that cell really gives time for contemplation, doesn’t it?” he mocked with sarcasm.
You smiled gently. “Mock me if you want, Tony. I know deep down in there somewhere you know I didn’t do all of that of my own accord. I know that deep down, you want to be just like Shannon and trust me, and help me, and be my friend again.”
“Shannon doesn’t know what she wants. She’s acting out of guilt.”
You lightly shrugged. “She may be… but then again, maybe she sees the truth for what it is. But for what it’s worth… I do love and miss you as my friend…”
“Yeah, well none of that matters anymore, does it?” he rhetorically asked. It was almost inaudible.
The rest of the ride was silent, but at least Tony didn’t give off the murder vibe any more.
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Unforseen Chasm Tag list- @reigningqueenofwords @oldfreakything @weclassygirl @adefectivedetective​
@dontbetooobvious
Tag list- @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @winchester-writes @winchesterenthusiast @georgialouisea @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog   @sammysbuttcheek @misz-adrii @sandlee44 @womanxofletters @natsuccs @childishhoebinoo @expecteddifferent @girl-next-door-writes @fanaticfanfiction @dakotapaigelove @sassy-spn-knight-of-hell
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ashrelfury · 6 years ago
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Getting A Neil For Christmas
Alright guys!! This is my gift to @exactly13percent for the @aftgexchange 2018!!! This isn’t exactly what you wanted, but I hope you’re happy with it anyways. I’m so not used to writing One-Shots!! I wanted to keep it short, but I also wanted to make it way longer, so I had to end it before I made it a chaptered fic that I DO NOT HAVE TIME TO DO!! lol Here you to, From @ashrelfury to @exactly13percent! Enjoy!!
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There’s something wrong with Josten.
Andrew had come to the conclusion a long fucking time ago, that there was more to Neil Josten than meets the eye. Fuck everything Aaron has to say about it.
Actually, fuck what everybody has to say about it.
It’s like the little asshole has just about everyone dancing in the palm of his hand. He’s well liked, respected, admired, he is everything Andrew hated in any of the other kids at any of the other houses he’d lived in before.
Mr. Perfect.
No fucking way.
Neil Josten had secrets, and it seemed that Neil was the only one curious enough to look beyond the polite little smile, the quiet demeanor, and the innocent face. No one else seemed to notice the way those fake brown eyes searched for all of the exits to every room they entered, or how stiff that lithe runner’s body got when big men yelled, or the careful way he seemed to check the roots of his dark brown hair on every reflective surface he passes.
To be honest though, if Andrew were inclined to be honest, he’d never actually expected something like this.
Neil Josten, sitting on their couch, huddled over a hot chocolate he wasn’t planning on drinking, supporting so many bandages and injuries that Andrew could barely see the light tan color of his skin below the red and purple, dark brown hair suddenly a shocking rusty red that seemed to fit him better, and dull brown eyes transformed into the most chilling ice blue Andrew had ever seen.
“Aaron’s not here, you know.” Andrew said. They were the first words he’d spoken out loud since the boy had knocked on his door almost two hours ago, bleeding and bruised to hell. He hadn’t even asked the damn boy anything as he stepped outside to let Neil in.
They didn’t share words as Andrew attempted to help Neil treat the injuries as best they good (Andrew wasn’t going to take the credit there, he had minimal knowledge with first aid, but he’d read the books and knew what to do. Not like that mattered though, Josten seemed to have practical experience with stitching himself up, and fuck if that little bit of knowledge didn’t made Andrew clench his fists in a hot sort of protective rage that he was not expecting at all.)
Afterwards, he’d led Neil to the couch in a pair of sweatpants that were Andrew’s at one point, but he was pretty sure he’d never touch again now that they’d been up against Neil’s skin, and a hoodie that most likely belonged to Aaron, not that it mattered because Josten was his brother’s fucking friend in the first place.
After making hot chocolate for both of them, he sat down on the low coffee table in front of the couch and stared at Neil, who had curled up on himself, warm mug in hand but nowhere near his mouth. They sat there like that for a good ten minutes, before Andrew decided now would be a very good time for answers.
“I know. I wouldn’t have come if I wasn’t sure he wasn’t going to be here.” Neil said, and that didn’t answer fuck all, but okay.
“Nicky’s in Germany.” Andrew went with.
“I know. I’m not here for him either.”
And…
Okay.
Andrew’s eyebrow hiked up on its own accord, but it was probably the most honest reaction he’s had all night. “So what the fuck are you doing here, Josten.”
Neil sighed, loud and long, but it still wasn’t an answer. There was no hiding the fact that he sounded just as tired as he looked
Silence surrounded them like oppressive restraints for a long moment. Andrew was pretty confident he could out last Josten though. He’d seen Josten in school, surrounded by his friends, chatting about sports and schoolwork and anything else under the sun. He’d watched Josten enough to know that silence unnerved the other boy. All he had to do, was wait him out.
It took an hour.
An entire fucking hour, but when Neil spoke, it was not what Andrew had expected at all.
“No one else knows.”
Andrew frowned, already more than a little annoyed with this whole conversation and it only just started to get interesting now. “No one else knows what?”
“No one else notices its fake. Me. My personality, my hair, everything. No one else noticed in the three years I’ve been living here, but you arrive and it doesn’t take you a month to notice all of it. I didn’t have anyone else to go to.” Neil’s voice was hollow. Dead and buried at this point and it was a bit unnerving. Hell, the fact that Neil had noticed that he had noticed was unnerving. It meant Neil Josten was far more perceptive than Andrew gave him credit for.
“So?”
Fuck, that was so weak.
But it got a reaction.
Blazing blue eyes snapped up to meet his and the kicked puppy on his couch glared for only a second before his expression closed down again. The bruises so much worse when you were looking at them head on.
“So I came here. You already don’t trust who I was, so it wouldn’t surprise you. You wouldn’t overreact like Matt or Dan, and you wouldn’t ask as many questions as Allison, and you wouldn’t kick me out like Kevin.” Neil explained.
And Andrew got it.
He’d seen through Neil, maybe not all of it, but he had and that made him safe right now. When everything else was knocked down, when all of his secrets hung on a fucking cliff, it was easier to come to someone who had seen you for the fraud you are.
“I still have questions.”
Fuck did he have questions. A shit ton of questions that he wasn’t sure for how much longer he could hold back. His only hope was for Neil to start speaking. Fast.
“That’s okay. I know about you, you know? Orphan, abusive foster homes, Tilda. I know you killed her. Aaron told me you made him a promise to protect him. I know the car accident wasn’t an accident.”
Andrew’s blood froze. His body went unnaturally still, his own hands clenching around the empty mug of his own long-gone hot chocolate. But before he could decide what to do, Neil spoke up again.
“It’s okay. I’m not going to tell anyone. I think you did the right thing. I would have done the same I think… or… I’d want someone to do it for me.” There was more to those words than Andrew could take at face value, but that was fine. He needed to calm himself back down before he tried to speak, because if he tried now, he was going to growl and yell.
“Your mother?” Andrew finally managed.
Neil startled, blue eyes wide with surprise, but there was something else.
“Ah. Mother and father.” Andrew deduced.
Neil’s eyes closed tight, some kind of pain kitting his brows as his head lowered. Andrew felt the need to reach out, run a hand through messy red hair that fit this boy so much better than the straight dark brown of before. He’d hit the fucking bullseye.
“Are they dead.”
His answer came in the form of a sharp nod.
“Were they the ones to hurt you?”
Pause. Head tilt. Slow careful nod. Ah, so just one. Father? It was more likely, given Josten’s reaction to older men, but the way he spoke about Tilda was revealing. Or maybe it was more than just his parents. Did his father have a mistress who’d also hurt him? Or was it his mother who kept someone on the side?
Andrew was quiet again, as he watched emotions flash through the usually walled up face of Neil fucking Josten.
It took long minutes before either of them spoke. In the end, it was Neil.
“I’m in the Witness Protection Program. Or, I was. I guess that now that my father’s dead, I’ll be out on my own again.”
Fuck.
Witness Protection.
It didn’t leave Andrew with a lot of information, but it was enough.
“Your father is a gang leader? Mob boss? Serial killer?” Bingo, bingo, and bingo. Josten’s face was readable from space, the small subtle flinches gave Andrew all the answers he needed. “Are you leaving town?” it wasn’t an important question. It didn’t really matter in the long run, but for some reason, it was the first real question Andrew’s mind could come up with. The only one he really wanted an answer to.
It was obviously not the question Neil was waiting for though. Wide eyes came back up again and that thin, tempting mouth opened and closed for a few moments, before it finally seemed to sink in.
“No. I… I don’t have anywhere else to go. Nothing else out there. It’ll be easier to stay.”
Shit, the relief Andrew felt was sort of overwhelming.
He’d always known there was something off with Neil Josten, but nothing like this. It was all so much more… interesting.
“Alright.” Was all Andrew said.
With that, he stood up. He paid no attention to the confused look Neil kept shooting at him as he collected both their mugs, his empty and Neil’s still full, took them to the kitchen skin, then went to the hall closet to grab a spare pillow and one of the many blankets Nicky had a habit of buying every Black Friday. Which so far, had been two, but in those two years, they’d gathered 5 stupid fleece blankets his cousin favored.
He dumped his load on the couch next to Neil, and walked away.
“Be here in the morning.” Andrew ordered, and then made his way upstairs and into his own room.
If Neil stayed, they’d talk a bit more. If not, Andrew would deal. It wouldn’t be the first time in his life he’d ever been disappointed.
--
Neil had stayed.
Fuck, Neil Josten had stayed and now Andrew wasn’t sure what to do exactly. So he made breakfast.
Neil was awake, huddled up in a ball by the corner of the couch watching Andrew work on some chocolate chip pancakes through the open half of the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. Andrew, meanwhile, ignored him completely.
Aaron would be back from Katelyn’s house at some point past noon and he and Neil needed to have things worked out by then. Andrew had an idea, but he wasn’t sure how receptive Neil would be to the idea.
Oh well. He wouldn’t make it a request.
Once he finished 7 pancakes, he put two on a plate and kept the rest for himself, grabbing a can of condensed milk. He preferred it to syrup because it was sweeter and set off the chocolate chips pretty nicely.
He sat down and began to eat, not paying Neil Josten any attention, but watching carefully from under his eyelashes.
Neil was like a skittish colt. He was obviously hungry, it was written all over his face as he took a whiff of the pancake smell coming from the kitchen, but he was hesitating moving closer. Like if he got off the couch, he’d be beaten again, or worse, kicked out. Andrew didn’t try to reassure him, just watched.
It took a long half hour, but Neil finally made it to the other side of their bar/table/counter area, pulled out the stool with a wince, and sat down. He looked at the pancakes, then at Andrew, then at the glass of milk beside the plate, and back again at Andrew. The blond scowled.
Another long moment late, Neil finally picked up the fork Andrew had left out, and began to eat.
The deep slices up his inner forearms were stitched up with dental floss from what Andrew could see, his knuckles and the top of his hands marked in circular burn marks that resembled a dashboard lighter in a car. Andrew’s stomach rolled without his permission and he scowled again. In the light of day, all of Neil’s injuries looked so much worse than when they’d been handling them last night. Thinking about it though, he’d need to grab the burn cream for those hands again.
When Neil was done with his first pancake, he finally spoke.
“When is Aaron coming back?”
Andrew glanced up from where he’d been running his finger through the rest of the condensed milk topping left at the bottom of his plate and sucking it off, to answer. “Sometime in the afternoon.”
“Oh. Okay.” And that was it. Silence came again.
Andrew was annoyed by it. With everyone else Josten had ever met, he was able to talk openly and smile and put on this Mr. Perfect act, but with Andrew he suddenly became this mute, abused animal, like Andrew would hurt him should he say the wrong thing.
Andrew wanted to hurt him just for that assumption.
With an indifferent look on his face, Andrew went to put his dishes in the sink before going to the bowl on the edge of Neil’s side of the bar/counter/table, grabbing his keys prying out one of them.
Neil watched all the while, his own face blank but his posture stiff, ready to run at any sign of a threat. Andrew had to grit his teeth not to snarl at the skinny bastard.
When the key was off the keychain of a black car, he tossed it underhanded to the red-head. Neil’s instincts were good, he played exy as a starting striker, so he caught it effortlessly, but the pain of his injuries had obviously been jostled, because he instantly let go of the key with a sharp cry of pain. Andrew ignored it.
“You can stay. You can leave. I don’t care.”
And then he walked away, back to his own room.
He still had questions. He still wanted answers. He wanted Neil to stay.
But above all of that, he wanted Neil to choose to stay. If Neil could do that one more time, Andrew would be allowed to question and finally understand what the fuck was really wrong with Neil Josten.
Besides, Aaron should be here when Andrew interrogated his best friend. His brother already hated him for taking Tilda away, and though Neil had always felt wrong in some irritating way, he’d never been a threat, Andrew wouldn’t get rid of him just yet.
He’d wait for what Aaron had to say, and decide from there. If the idiot stayed.
--
Neil was at the end of whatever rope he’d had left.
If he were honest with himself, something he wasn’t very inclined to do on his best days, he’d admit that Andrew made him feel safe.
Neil had known Aaron for 3 years. If Neil had any real friends left in school, it’d be Aaron, Dan, and Matt. Maybe Allison too, but she had a habit of being cynical and snide and Neil wasn’t sure if she liked him or not. She saw how fake he was from the get go, but it never seemed to bother her.
Andrew though… Andrew was different.
When the other twin had come out of the woodwork, it had been Neil who’d witnessed Aaron’s mental breakdowns, as well as his hidden excitement at having a brother. At being able to finally share his suffering with someone else. Neil wasn’t sure he understood that. All of his suffering he’d shared with his mother and it had never made him feel anything but pain and fear.
Still, Neil had been there, keeping Aaron from spiraling into the drugs Tilda tried to get him addicted too, and keeping the worst of the abuse at bay by keeping Aaron in the Exy team at school and away from home as much as possible.
Then… Andrew showed up. And everything seemed to change.
Within six months, Tilda was dead, and Aaron told Neil about Andrew’s promise. Protection, a shield from the thing that wanted to hurt him, in exchange for 3 years of closeness.
Fuck… wasn’t that exactly what Neil wanted more than his next breath?
After losing his mother nearly year prior and running to the FBI as a result, he’d felt adrift and paranoid. Fear dogged his steps and he was slowly falling apart behind the act he’d kept up flawlessly at school.
To have someone to trust at his back, to finally put down the weight of his lies. It was Neil’s biggest wish.
Yet, Andrew had gone above and beyond. Actually killing Tilda for laying hands on Aaron again after the warnings didn’t work. Neil had been in awe.
He’d started to watch Andrew from that moment on. He’d noticed the way Andrew watched him back, suspicious hazel eyes constantly glued to him. Nothing escaped Andrew Joseph Minyard. But instead of feeling pressured and fearful, Neil began to covet that gaze. If Andrew was watching him, no one would be able to get to him without the blond knowing.
He was protected.
It was just his luck that Lola came for him during winter break… the only time he wouldn’t be around Andrew because Aaron had suddenly found a girlfriend and they wouldn’t be able to hang out at Nicky’s house that week.
When his Uncle had come to his rescue, guns blazing, Neil had been left in a basement full of bodies and so many more scars he could no longer hide them from anyone.
Even with his Uncle there, desperate to help him and support him, Neil couldn’t feel safe. He was on edge, he didn’t sleep. He only asked to be brought back to Columbia.
It took his Uncle 4 days to concede.
He was dropped of at the apartment the US Marshals had gotten for him, and he’d walked the two miles needed to reach the Minyard-Hemmick residence.
He must have done something very right in a past life, because the only person there was the one twin he was looking for, and when Andrew let him in without speaking one word, Neil finally felt himself relax.
On the couch, seated across from Andrew, Neil was finally safe again. Those intense hazel eyes watching him like they always had, making him feel seen… known.
He was ready to tell Andrew everything. To finally let all the lies go.
Only… Andrew didn’t ask any of the probing question Neil had been expecting.
He’d been a bit disappointment, honestly, but he’d let it go. The truth would be heard sooner or later and then it would no longer be Neil’s burden to carry alone.
Neil looked down at the key in his hand. Andrew’s house key, he recognized it from the times he’d had to bring Aaron home after a night at some random senior’s house party. He’d used Aaron’s key to open the front door many times, but… this was different. Wasn’t it?
He couldn’t stop his thumb from running over the key’s teeth. Imprinting the feel and shape of them into his skin with a desperation he didn’t realize he still held.
There was a pressure behind his eyes that he didn’t recognize and his vision began to get fuzzy.
Neil jumped a bit when something wet dripped onto his hand.
Reaching up to figure out where he was bleeding, he startled again when he realized the wetness wasn’t blood.
He was crying.
Fuck, he was actually fucking crying!
Just as sudden as the realization came, the emotions soon followed. Relief, bitter resentment, fear, safety, confusion, and a bone deep loneliness made him double over. Neil crouched there in Andrew’s living room, holding the single key in both hands and pressing it to his forehead as he silently sobbed.
Aaron would be home soon, Neil needed to get himself together…
But maybe this one it would be okay to fall apart.
He was safe here.
Andrew was here.
He was safe.
--
*A Year Later*
“Shut up and open the door, Junkie.”
Neil smiled into the collar of his jacket as he pulled out his keys.
“I’m just trying to thank you for the game, ‘Drew. You didn’t have to save that last shot.” Neil argued back just to keep Andrew talking as the blond collected the bags from the back of their Maserati.
“Fuck you. Lock the car.” Was Andrew’s only answer.
Neil snorted, but as he opened the front door, he fingered the car key on his ring and locked the black beauty’s doors as requested.
“Is Nicky going to be back from Germany yearly like last year? Or are we picking him up on our way to Palmetto?” Neil asked, knowing Andrew would remember better than himself.
“We’re picking him up.”
“Good. That means we get the house all to ourselves for the whole week.” Neil grinned wickedly, bright blue eyes on the short blond as he pushed past and up the stairs to the bedroom they shared.
“Kevin’s coming to pick us up in 3 days for the ‘Extra Spring Break Practice With Wymack’ you agreed to.” Andrew reminded him tonelessly.
Neil winced. Shit, he’d forgotten that.
“Do we have to go?” He asked a little petulantly.
“No.”
“Then we won’t.”
“I think that’s the first smart thing to have ever come out of your mouth, Josten.”
Andrew walked back down the stairs with empty arms, pulling his jacket off as he went and throwing it carelessly over one of the kitchen bar stools.
Neil went to him almost unconsciously. “What about Aaron?”
“Montana with Katlyn. We have to pick him up on Saturday.” Andrew’s eyes resembled smooth whiskey as he watched Neil’s careful approach, but he didn’t move to meet him, nor did he move away.
Raising his hands, Neil asked, “Yes or no?”
The blond took a long moment to answer, but when he did, his own hands came up. “Yes.”
Two callused palms pressed against either side of his hips, while Andrew’s own came around Neil’s neck.
When their lips met, Andrew thought about this time last year.
He thought about opening the front door to a broken and bleeding liar. Thought about his decision to let that lair stay. Thought about this fucked up lair being his twin brother’s best friend.
Fuck yeah there was something wrong with Neil Josten.
That was fine with Andrew though. The Junkie wasn’t a threat…
Josten was his.
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tsaritsa · 7 years ago
Text
against the run of play
hi @yanumii​ i was ur secret santa this year!!!! u asked for fic, a modern au, and royai: so i went a bit crazy and wrote a 7k multimedia fic extravaganza. i hope u enjoy it, and that u have a safe holiday period into 2k18!!!
you can also read on ao3
“Riza Hawkeye,” she lifted her glass in greeting.
He inclined his head in return and took the chair next to her. “Roy Mustang. What brings you to a charity gig this evening?”
(In which Roy Mustang is a national rugby hero and falls in love with neurotrauma specialist Riza Hawkeye as soon as he lays eyes on her).
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He’s been seen out and about in Briggs with internationally-ranked ice-skater Olivier Armstrong, 36.
But rugby royalty Roy Mustang, 28, stepped out solo for his trip to East City last week, and tried to go incognito as he arrived at Bardowick-Lyles station late Thursday afternoon. 
The captain of the Drakes cut a casual look with oversized black shades as he tried to dodge the prying eyes of the afternoon commuters.
Braving the cold in a black winter coat with pearl buttons, Mustang kept it cosy in a light blue jumper and worn black jeans.
He matched his elegant coat with midnight Tom Ford boots, emblazoned with a bold red strap over the foot. 
He stylishly pulled the look together with a tan messenger bag with statement buckle to give off a touch of glamour. 
The sighting comes after a report from the Central Star that the rugby superstar is getting serious with ice-skater Olivier Armstrong, who has just come back from the competition circuit in Drachma. Though there have been no photos of the two together, several sources have reported on their dates. 
Olivier attended his last home game in East City last November. And Mustang headed to Briggs with her where they were both spotted enjoying the sights at Lake Yastreb, well-known in the region for its picturesque views and opportunities to skate on the lake itself.
'Roy and Olivier are definitely dating,' a source tells Central Star. 'They’ve gotten to know each other really well and are very comfortable from one another. 
'Olivier sends Roy music to get his opinion on what she should choreograph her pieces to. It’s more than just a fling.' 'They’ve been dating since early autumn and spend most nights hanging out at his holiday home in northern Central and laying low,' another source told the Central Star. 
'His friends already love her and see how happy she makes him,' it was claimed.
The Drakes face off against Creta this Saturday at the Eastern ‘Cake Tin’ Stadium, in which punters are expecting the professional debut of newly-signed scrum-half, Edward Elric.
Roy Mustang is supposedly single!
While it was previously reported the Rugby Union star was ‘casually dating’ the pretty figure skater Olivier Armstrong, he says he's not worrying about his love life for now (though he did not outright deny that he and Olivier have been seeing!)
He told The Bell:
"It's not that I'm not pursuing love in some sense, but I'm just focusing on the team right now. We have some really exciting games coming up against the new Creta lineup and training has been non-stop. The spare time that I do have, I want it to be fun and casual and light and easy-going."
Well, there's nothing wrong with fun and casual!
Anyway, Roy isn't worrying about being in a serious relationship at the moment, but maybe some time in the future:
"I'm sure there will come a time when I'm ready to make a more serious commitment and be in a relationship like that – one where I can really focus my time on someone else – but I'm thrilled to be able to keep things simple at the moment."
And for now he's focusing on his fellow teammate (and self-proclaimed best friend) Maes Hughes' happiness in his engagement to Gracia Barker:
"I was really excited and anxious to hear from Maes on the day that I knew he was going to pop the question. When I finally did, it was just the best. I think they’ve found their other half in each other and it's wonderful to see them so happy. It's rare in a lot of cases and when you see it happen it brings you an overwhelming sense of joy."
Aww!
Roy can live vicariously through them AND still enjoy the single life!
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Riza huffed as she adjusted the dress she wore, cursing under her breath as she shot a pained smile towards her grandfather across the dance floor. She understood that the job her grandfather had – as the leader of their country – was important, but he made it very hard for her to appreciate his role when he forced her to attend these soirées as his informal date. You’ll meet plenty of men this way, he had cajoled her, eyes twinkling.
Of course, it didn’t matter to Führer George Grumman the III that his only grandchild had no current plans to meet a man and settle down – she was having plenty of fun focusing on her job as a doctor in a small borough just an hour out of Central City. It was challenging work, as well as rewarding, and it frustrated Riza to no end that her grandfather refused to see her as she was, rather than as someone she could potentially become.
She would, however, give him credit for the dress she was trying to wrestle with discreetly as she could manage. Despite the awkward way she felt it sat on her body, she would admit that she looked damn good in it. It was one of the more scandalous-worthy dresses on show tonight – she had been approached by an up-and-coming designer who knew her through a co-worker that worked on the surgery side of head trauma (she thought it was funny how small the world could be at times) – and the designer had arrived last week with this hip-hugging, gossamer affair. Truthfully, the dress actually stopped at the top of her thighs: the rest was a delicate gauze embellished with floral appliqués that accented the long length of her thighs and calves. It was a bold choice that Riza knew had some of the high society girls fuming – technically she hadn’t broken the dress code, but she knew she was walking on a very thin line between looking chic and modern and looking downright scandalous.
Whatever. If she had to be dragged to be paraded around on her grandfather’s arm, at least she could look stunning while doing it.
Tonight was a charity event – these were par for the course for her. The causes were almost always something she could easily support, and the press tended to be minimal (and generally only the legitimate forms of press would even turn up to these sorts of events).
Unfortunately for Riza, this particular charity event was something she was struggling to find an ounce of support for. It didn’t help that their supporters and partners had hadn’t really given much thought to the security of the whole event. Gate crashers kept seeming to wriggle their way in, and the few men on duty had their hands full trying to ensure than nobody was unduly accosted.
It was just her luck that the entire Drakes team had been invited to attend, and with them, every person with a smartphone and a nametag saying, ‘Hello I’m an invasive journalist’ had turned up to report (intrusively investigate, a little voice in the back of her head whispered).
The main speeches that had practically bordered on self-congratulation had already been done (thank god), and the dinner had been alright (the only saving grace). The mingling afterwards was what she didn’t enjoy, but it was barely ten o’clock yet and she had promised her grandfather that she would stay until at least half past. This event had been sponsored by the national rugby board, celebrating the commencement of a new initiative that would see coaches and equipment being deployed to the poorer regions of the country. If her grandfather was considered the head of this nation, rugby was undoubtedly the heart. And the lungs. And the kidneys. And any other vital organ in the body. Amestris without rugby was…well, a country of little international standing and an awful lot of sheep per capita.
It was in their blood, or so the saying went. Everyone either played or watched the national sport. There was never any discussion about disliking rugby: naturally, that never factored into the equation at all. Riza could remember playing it as a young child – even the other sports made available at her school all paled in comparison to the funding and exposure that rugby got.
Her grandfather knew she wasn’t the biggest fan of rugby – being a neurotrauma specialist meant she often dealt with people suffering from concussions and other injuries that were common in the sport: so spending an evening with the people who actively ignored any warnings she and her colleagues put out about the inherent dangers of such an oft-contact sport was just peachy.
Also, Roy Mustang was here. Riza didn’t have anything against the man personally; she was just sick of seeing his name and face plastered across her newspapers, social media feed, christ – even her bread wasn’t safe from his smarmy expression, endorsing her use of wholegrains and encouraging her to learn more at playrugby.co.am
The overexposure of such a man was to be expected, she supposed. He was the captain of the Drakes – the national rugby team, and played in the local league for the East Eagles. Alongside Hughes, Armstrong (the male one, his older sister did figure-skating and was reputed to be as cold as the ice she worked on) and the up-and-coming Elric Brothers, the national team was formidable, to say the least – and that was only the names that she could remember off the top of her head. The Drakes were currently ranked number one in the world, and for good reason. She’d give him this, Mustang was talented – after years of embarrassing defeats and almost-wins against Creta (their arch rivals), Mustang had swanned onto the scene and essentially rebuilt the team from the ground up. The drinking and bashing tabloids went away, the team practically became good at rugby overnight, and the country’s morale was at an all-time high.
Mustang had given the country something to be proud of, and that in turn made the country better for it.
She spied him across the room, talking with her grandfather and other men in suits. George was a big fan of the rugby, and Riza knew her grandfather would certainly be enjoying himself tonight, surrounded by plenty of players to natter off to. She remembered that he used to play when he was haler and heartier: tonight would probably be the highlight of his social engagement calendar for this season.
It was rather funny to watch the man try to extract himself from what looked to be a very one-sided conversation with her grandfather – Riza was well-versed in various modes of escape from him once he got into an animated discussion, but in this case Mustang seemed to be at her grandfather’s mercy. Eventually another team member had wandered over and she saw him quickly duck his way out, skirting the edges of the ballroom.
“I see you’ve met the ‘real’ Führer,” she called out to him as he passed her table. He turned back to look at her, confused.
She smiled kindly at him and his face lit up in understanding. “You saw that, then?”
“It’s been fun watching everyone realise what they’ve gotten themselves into. You did remarkably well.”
She poured herself another flute of sparkling wine and raised her eyebrows at her companion.
“Riza Hawkeye,” she lifted her glass in greeting.
He inclined his head in return and took the chair next to her. “Roy Mustang. What brings you to a charity gig this evening?”
“I’m here as my grandfather’s date,” she replied. It was the truth, after all. But with men like Mustang, she relied on their own fame and notoriety to eclipse hers. There had been no spark of recognition at her first name (which usually gave it away). It was refreshing to be a simple civilian, talking to another, slightly more (okay, extremely well-known) civilian. Besides, she was interested in seeing how he was off the field, and out of the press scrum after every game. He had always presented himself as polite and engaged – but here, amongst his peers, Riza would have an opportunity to see the real man.
“That’s very kind of you,” he said politely, fiddling with the stem of his glass. “Is he involved with the board?”
“Not quite,” she hedged, ducking her head. “To be honest he’s not a very important person in the scheme of it all, not here certainly. Not like you, however.” A teasing smile pulled at her lips. “You’re the man of the hour.”
Roy sighed, shifting in his chair to see her properly. “It’s a good venture.”
“I never said it wasn’t,” Riza said coolly. “But you don’t look like you’re having fun, despite all the attention.”
Roy folded his arms over his chest and Riza tried to ignore how his dress shirt pulled in all the right places. “You don’t sound like you’re having much fun either.”
“Why would I? Your board never listens to me: being stuck in a room with them is not my idea of a good Thursday night.”
He paused, frowning. “What do you mean about the board?”
Perhaps it was the all the wine she had drunk throughout the night (well, something needed to get her through their inane speeches); perhaps it was the fact that she would be able to give Mustang the slip in just under ten minutes; perhaps Riza had the slim hope that maybe he would listen to her, even if nobody else would.
The words spilled out of her before she could think to what impact they might have. “I’m a neurotrauma specialist. I’ve written entire books on how a blow to the head affects your cognitive function later on in life. Your board seems to think their players are immune to those effects.”
His eyes bugged a little out of his head and Riza allowed herself a small smirk. It wasn’t an attack on him directly – hell, he would probably be one of the worst-off players considering how long he’d been playing for the Drakes now – but there was something perversely fun about educating the star of rugby about its inherent failings and dangers.
“I mean-” he was struggling for words here, moving forward in his seat. “I’d heard the rumours but – surely they would listen, at the very least?”
Riza shrugged, finishing off her glass. “You tell me. Every paper I send them – internationally peer-reviewed, mind you – is quickly ignored. They don’t want the proof that the current form of the game is slowly killing their star players.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe you’ll have more luck with them than I do. I mean the game no disrespect, but with how it’s embedded into our day-today-lives-” she waved an arm around for emphasis. “It’s not just retired players and people with over twenty concussions. I’m getting children in now because they’ve have a hard knock and it’s screwed them up. There’s absolutely no focus on safety, just on how manly it is. And a gala like this? It’s only going to exacerbate the problem.”
He had grown quiet, looking at something over her shoulder with apprehension.
“I heard from your grandfather that you had come along with him tonight, but I never imagined you would be so rude as to spread lies when you’re here as our guest,” an oily voice said from behind her.
“Chairman Raven,” Roy said carefully, moving out of his chair and shaking the older man’s hand.
Riza stood up to, and made a point of extending her hand towards the man as well. His cologne was overpowering as he gripped her hand with more force than necessary, she could feel it settling onto her skin like the sardines her grandfather liked to eat for lunch. Everything about him screamed money and power.
“It’s hardly a lie, I’m afraid,” she replied coolly, enjoying how his gaze hardened. “I have nearly eight years’ worth of data now. Every year you ignore me I just add to my statistics some more.”
“Chairman, I think it might be worth looking into this,” Roy said earnestly, and Riza felt a rush of affection for him as he stood next to her, their shoulders barely brushing. “I saw Basque only just last week and he had been telling me-”
“A conversation for another time, I think,” Raven said pointedly, still looking at Riza with barely contained distaste. “You’ll have to forgive Mr. Mustang: he sees a pretty face and simply loses all common sense.”
Riza felt the smile freeze on her face. Roy had grown very still next to her, and she willed for him to say something – anything. The silence stretched on, and Raven’s lewd smile grew.
“I think we should give Mr. Mustang more credit than that,” she said eventually, tasting bile on her tongue. “At least he doesn’t judge at first glance.”
“Because there’s so much to judge the granddaughter of the Führer on, isn’t there?” Raven inclined his head at the two of them. “It was nice talking to you again, Miss Hawkeye.”
“Doctor Hawkeye,” she ground out.
Raven laughed loudly. “Of course, silly me. Doctor Hawkeye.”
Roy turned on her as soon as the older man was out of earshot; Riza let go of a breath she didn’t realise she was still holding onto.
“You’re George’s granddaughter?”
“Yes,” she said distractedly, checking her watch for the time. “My grandmother doesn’t have the patience for these sorts of things, so I come along instead.”
“His granddaughter-”
“I need a drink,” she said tiredly, finally looking up at him. His mouth was gaping open inelegantly and she smiled softly, placing her fingers on his underside of his chin to close his mouth gently. “Would you care to join me? I find Chairman Raven robs me of all energy.” Her fingers lingered on his jaw for a moment, savouring the heat of his skin against her own.
He stared at her, confused, before nodding and offering her his arm. “I know a good bar a few blocks from here,” he said lightly.
“You read my mind, Mr Mustang. Lead the way.”
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She woke with a start, and immediately wished she hadn’t moved so quickly. The room swam; her vision swam; her head swam.
Riza had the worst hangover in living memory. Her legs were wrapped awkwardly around a sheet and she struggled for a few moments before flopping back onto the bed, breathing deeply and trying her best not to hurl onto the ground.
How much did I drink last night? Her head was throbbing painfully now, and she realised with growing dread that she didn’t recognise where she was.
She also wasn’t wearing anything.
FuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckityfuckfuckFUCK.
Another wave of nausea passed over her and she rolled onto her side, blearily opening her eyes to figure out exactly where she had ended up. The room was familiar – maybe one of the hotels in the CBD? The room was pretty basic in its setup, but the furniture spoke of moderate wealth. Riza sat up slowly, not caring how the bedsheet fell and pooled around her hips. She could spy her dress crumpled up on the floor, and her shoes kicked off on the sofa.
How in the fuck am I going to get out of this?
She heard movements to her left, and watched with horror as Roy Mustang’s head emerged from beneath the other half of the bedsheet, like the birth of the world’s most hungover butterfly. He blinked slowly up at her, his mouth opening and shutting.
“Where did your dress go?” he asked, puzzled. Riza shrieked, quickly grabbing the sheet back up.
“God, not so loud I beg you-”
“What the fuck happened last night-”
“Did we-?”
“I think we-”
“Christ, I would never mean to take advantage of you like that, I’m so sorry-”
She held up a hand and took a deep breath. “We were both obviously drunk – it’s – it’s not ideal. But it’s alright, it – this shit happens.” She gripped the bedsheet tightly against her chest.
He curled around a pillow and looked at her with an expression she couldn’t be bothered to figure out. “I’m glad it was you,” he said honestly, wincing at how tactless he sounded. “I mean – you know, people throwing themselves at you for your fame?”
“Yeah…” she nodded her head uncertainly. “I-”
“ROY!” A voice boomed from outside, the two of them tensed, and looked at each other warily.
“Fuck, it’s Maes,” he whispered harshly, running a hand through his hair – if it was his bedhead before, Riza didn’t know what to call whatever the mess was now on top of his head. He pushed himself off the bed and puttered around the bed; Riza found it hard to tear her eyes away from his body. Yes, she knew he was fit but – it was different seeing it in the flesh.
“You won’t want to wear that out,” he said, gesturing to her dress on the floor while shimmying on his boxer shorts. “I think I have some spare clothes you can borrow.”
“It’ll be fine-”
“Dressed to the nines?” He laughed and shook his head. “We’ve got press with us at the moment – they might be sport-focused, but I’ll wager they’ll be quicker to pick up on who you are than I was.”
She bit her lip: he had a point, despite her apprehension. Of course the media would be here – it was a bloody miracle that Roy had taken them to a little bar off a side street where nobody seemed to care who they were.
The knocking on the door was becoming more insistent. “ROY WAKE THE FUCK UP YOU LAZY SON OF A-”
“I’M COMING, MAES!” He yelled back, throwing her a wrinkled t-shirt and shorts; she quickly put them on. They were a loose fit, but it would have to do, at least until she could hail an uber to take her home. He ducked into the bathroom, she could hear the taps running at full tilt.
She was just bending down to pick up her wallet when the door suddenly flew open and Maes walked in, looking harried and ready to draw blood.
“Roy, I swear on my grave you are gonna get it-”
He stopped as he saw Riza crouching by the side of the bed.
“Oh shit, Roy. What have you done?”
Roy walked out the bathroom, scrubbing at his face with a washcloth. His shoulders slumped as he saw his best friend, and he walked over to where Riza was standing, frozen like a deer in the headlights. “Look, I’ll-”
“It’s fine,” she whispered lowly, very aware of how this must look to the deputy captain: here was the Führer’s granddaughter dressed in his best friend’s clothing and looking thoroughly shagged. “I’ll go, and you can – can deal with whatever is going on-”
“Riza-”
She placed her free palm against his chest and breathed in deeply. “It’s fine-”
He dipped his head and kissed her chastely on the mouth, a little part of her melted at the fact that despite his being needed elsewhere, he was still here, with her. His fingers curled against the side of her face and she tried her best not to see too much into this: he was just being a gentleman and –
“Roy this can’t wait-”
He ripped his lips from hers and breathed deeply, resting his forehead against her own.
“I swear-”
She nodded, trying her best not to let her emotions get the better of her. “Maybe we’ll – later.”
“Later,” he breathed, kissing her forehead lightly before picking up her shoes and handing them to her. “Take the stairwell, it’ll lead you to the back entrance and away from the main road.”
Maes was quiet as he watched her gather her purse and slip out of the room. “You didn’t answer your phone,” he explained, handing his own over. The local news site was loaded, and Roy sucked in a breath as he read the headline.
BREAKING: ZOLF J. KIMBLEE FOUND GUILTY OF DOPING DRAKES ON BEHALF OF DRACHMAN BEARS. MORE TO FOLLOW.
“Christ,” Roy muttered, skimming the article before handing the phone back to Maes, quickly putting on his team jacket. “Of course it was Kimblee.”
Maes shrugged. “We all knew something was coming. What I’m more interested in is-”
“Absolutely not.” His voice brokered no argument and Maes deflated a little. “It’s not – we’ve got more important things to worry about right now.”
“Is she just a one-off or-?”
Roy rubbed his eyes roughly, sighing. “For fucks sake, you know me better than that. Later mate, when I’m not hungover.”
Maes slung his arm around Roy’s shoulders, and coaxed him down the hall towards the elevator. “I’ll hold you to that. Anyway, Kimblee was found with the drugs in his room, and his phone’s been confiscated by the police. All you need to do is look solemn and refuse to answer any questions.”
“That should be easy.”
UNKNOWN NUMBER, 5:28pm when did u manage to put ur number into my phone
elizabeth, 5:31pm Sorry, who is this?
UNKNOWN NUMBER, 5:32pm man this is embarrassing UNKNOWN NUMBER, 5:32pm it’s roy UNKNOWN NUMBER, 5:32pm y’know UNKNOWN NUMBER, 5:33pm the dude u marked to hell and back UNKNOWN NUMBER, 5:33pm i had to fend off so many questions from maes about u
elizabeth, 5:34pm Oh shit elizabeth, 5:36pm Thank you for sending back my dress. I owe you
concussion boy, 5:37pm go out to lunch with me tomorrow and i’ll call it even
elizabeth, 5:39pm They said you were slick on the field
concussion boy, 5:40pm meet u at the café on the corner of elm and lyles? 12ish?
elizabeth, 5:44pm I’ve got a meeting at 1pm back at the hospital so it’ll have to be a short lunch
Looks like Roy Mustang scores on AND off the field!
On Saturday, the Drakes star was snapped out and about with the gorgeous First Granddaughter Riza Hawkeye, and it seems like these two had quite a ball on their lunch date!
The precious pair hit up Il Pomadoro in the Carlston borough of Western Central, and they were totally getting their flirt on after the meal!
The accomplished neurosurgeon and the captain of the Drakes were caught on camera smiling and laughing, and Riza even tried to grab for something in the athlete's hands!
And close sources say this isn't just a hit-it-and-quit-it date! Insiders say that these two are, in fact, dating, but it's still very new, which is why they're trying to keep it on the down-low.
For example, when the sports star was asked about being spotted on the outing later that week, he responded by saying:
"I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about."
Playing coy, Mr. Mustang?!
We appreciate the effort, but those snaps are pretty telling!
[Images courtesy of Lily Marrell.]
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Things are heating up between Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye in the cold winter weather… literally!
On Tuesday night, the blonde beauty and the charismatic captain were spotted hanging out together once again! The stars were caught on camera at a Starbucks near Mount Kahma, about five hours north of New Optain.
Since the cosy ski resort is probably one of the few places in the Eastern District that actually gets cold, the precious pair was most likely trying to get their body heat rising… with some coffee! LOL get your mind out of the gutter!
The romance rumours surrounding these two have been in a flurry ever since the pair were spotted talking at a charity ball sponsored by the National Rugby Union. Miss Hawkeye, a talented neurotrauma specialist at Central General had apparently charmed the Drakes Captain with not just her enviable fashion sense, but her brain as well. Sources say that Roy was smitten with her from the very beginning, while Riza took a little time to warm up to the fly-half.
Do you think the relationship between this dynamic duo is more than platonic? Or are Roy and Riza just friends? This girl hopes that Roy Mustang isn’t off the bachelor market just yet!
[Image courtesy of Lorne Yoki.]
It’s heartbreak on top of heartbreak for Olivier Armstrong, 36, and Roy Mustang, 28, and sources claim to The Daily Star that Roy has betrayed Olivier by seeing another woman for the past five months. ‘Roy finally admitted to Olivier that he had fallen in love with another woman! They had to hide their feelings, but they’ve been seeing each other on the sly whenever they could over the last five months,’ an insider reveals. ‘Their friendship turned into something more as time went on.’ OMG!
So who is this alleged mystery woman? None other than the granddaughter of the Führer, Riza Hawkeye. ‘She’s a neurotrauma specialist, and often attends charity events as a date to her grandfather,’ the source adds. Sounds like they run in the same circles. ‘As such, they had crossed paths at numerous events, both in Amestris and abroad, for some time,’ the insider reveals. ‘She’s classically beautiful and was educated in Creta, as well as here at Central U — and the attraction between her and Roy was immediate!’ Whoa, sounds pretty serious.
Miss Hawkeye has been described as somewhat of a gold-digger in certain circles – she was largely left out of the public eye as George Grumman soared to power in the election of ’19, and the insider reveals that there’s talk amongst those closest to the rugby star that she’s after a ring to solidify her social standing amongst the WAG’s of the Drakes. ‘She grew up in a very poor household until her grandfather took her under his wing, so she’s very hungry for any kind of power. We honestly can’t see what he sees in her.’
Of course, Roy had to eventually tell Olivier about his secret love. ‘Roy finally came clean to Olivier about his new woman just a few days before her Grand Prix competition at North City,’ the insider says, referring to that dramatic and shocking exit by Olivier in the semi-finals. ‘At first Olivier was stunned — and certainly blindsided — by Roy’s confession. But then she got furious. It wasn’t pretty,’ the source shares. We can only imagine. Olivier is considered one of the strongest skaters in the world – she must have truly been heartbroken to be affected like this.
Perhaps Riza will see her true influence now – not as a doctor saving lives, but as one ruining them too.
concussion boy, 2:31pm i know u saw the daily star article. rebecca dm’ed me. concussion boy, 2:31pm u can’t just keep ignoring me concussion boy, 2:32pm we need to talk about this
elizabeth, 2:26pm there’s nothing to talk about
concussion boy, 2:27pm i’ll make sure i get a concussion next match unless we talk concussion boy, 2:27pm u know i will concussion boy, 2:28pm and then u will have to treat me and be a professional while i ogle u concussion boy, 2:29pm har har
“You never thought to tell me it was a PR relationship?”
“It didn’t seem – I mean, if you had met Olivier-”
Riza let out a shriek of frustration. “But I haven’t, Roy. I don’t move in the same circles as you! Was it her? Did she tell them to write this?”
Roy held up his hands in defeat. “No, she wouldn’t. She doesn’t get revenge that way. I just – I know our lives have been busy! Between you, and getting the team through this fucking doping scandal-”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Because I’m such a hassle, aren’t I? You know that’s not what I meant. It’s not like I’m deciding to date the next guy I meet in the bakery – you’re Roy Mustang! Every man, woman and unborn child knows who you are. It was foolish to think that we’d be able to keep it quiet for any length of time, you’ve always got media after you-”
Roy snorted, shaking his head. “And you’re the Führer’s granddaughter, who is known in the public eye-”
“Because he asks me!” She wrung her hands, trying her best not to get upset. “He always gives me the option to say no! You never asked me if this is what I wanted, you just took me out on a date and hoped like mad the press wouldn’t catch wind-”
“Didn’t stop you from fucking me in the hotel.”
She stood there, mouth open and gaping like a fish. “That’s not – you can’t just – we-”
He laughed humourlessly, a pale imitation of a smile on his face. “Right. I see how it is. You’re allowed to hang that over my head for as much as you care to do, but as soon as I try to make a point you won’t even fucking listen. Are you sure that it’s me who’s has the multiple head injuries?” It was an a needlessly cruel jab and part of Roy regretted it the moment it left his mouth. His idea of a ‘mild press day’ was probably far beyond whatever she had experienced – but still –
She sat down on the sofa, her head in her hands. Her shoulders were trembling. “Don’t,” she said forcefully when he went to sit next to her, her arm flung out in a final stand.
There was an ugly silence as Roy stood there, hand hovering in the space where her own was being held. She swallowed what sounded like a sob before she raised her head and tucked her arms against her body, blinking her watery eyes.
“Never use my job against me again,” she said coldly, before shifting on the sofa, inclining her head slightly. He sat down, and she sighed, resting her head against his shoulder.
“You’re used to the press,” her hand found his and she laced her fingers with his tightly. “You’re used to how they write about you, how they-”
“But-”
“Please let me finish, Roy.” Her voice was firm, but tired. “You have an entire team of people who coach you in how to deal with the media; that same team protects you from the worst of it. I don’t have that luxury. Being the granddaughter of the Führer means that people are aware of me, yes – but I’m no more than a line in an article; perhaps included in a single society photo with my grandfather because he wants one of the two of us. No more than that.” She paused, and shifted against him.
“I have complete strangers approaching me at my work. Making up fake head injuries so I’ll see them – taking up a spot that could be used by somebody who actually needs the medical attention. The girlfriend of Roy Mustang.” Riza laughed bitterly. “It’s like I’m in zoo or something. Back when people saw me for who my grandfather was, not for my own achievements. I worked hard to get to where I am today – to be reduced in such a way, it’s–”
She sighed heavily. “This is the reality I’m living with. Please understand that.”
Roy nodded slowly, squeezing her hand lightly. “I didn’t consider,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry I put you in that position.”
She lifted their joined hands and kissed his knuckles delicately. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when it happened. I just…I thought I could deal with it. They’re only articles.”
“And you’re just a person,” Roy soothed. “A brilliant, smart, and kind person-” she laughed shakily, “-but a person nonetheless. I’ll see what I can do about the tabloids. They weren’t this harsh on Gracia.”
dickhead bf, 09:28am sorry to inform u but i’m breaking up with u dickhead bf, 09:29am i know this will be hard for u dickhead bf, 09:29am i'll send some flowers so the world knows i’m a gentleman
ice monster, 09:40am fuck off ice monster, 09:40am i’ve seen the articles. is she staying for longer than 2 months?
dickhead bf, 09:48am har bloody har. she just doesn’t want any press cooking up a story we all know to be fake dickhead bf, 09:50am they haven’t been kind to her
ice monster, 09:52am cry me a river mustang. she knows what’s she’s getting into right? fuhrer’s grandkid and all that ice monster, 09:54am seriously tho, congrats. didn't think there was anybody who could deal with ur arse 24/7. wish her luck from me
dickhead bf, 09:55am you’d probably like her. doesn't put up with any of my shit and makes me ring my mum once a week
ice monster, 09:56am real wife material there ice monster, 10:11am oh ffs DO NOT propose to her yet otherwise i’ll get stuck with ur press cycle again. ur meant to make me look GOOD
dickhead bf, 10:28am i know. say hi to jon for me
Olivier Armstrong may have a new man her life!
On Monday, it was reported by The Standard that the renowned figure skater has been spending time with Jonathon Buccaneer for the last few weeks. AH-Mazing!
However, the 32-year-old's family have declined to comment on her possibly changed #RelationshipStatus. Well, that's not a no!
According to the paper, the twosome went on a romantic getaway together to Beaumont, Western District where they supposedly went on scenic hikes into the mountains and basked in the sunshine. Too cute!
Still, we have to wonder, who exactly is this mystery beau?? Ch-ch-check out these five fast facts on Olivier’s (possible) new squeeze!
Mr. Buccaneer has an automail arm: Apparently, he has a variety of different get-ups for different jobs. It’s unknown how he lost it, and no sources close to the man have offered up any hints. We can’t imagine how he lost it, what with working in the military and all…
He has NOTHING to do with professional sports: Surprisingly, Olivier is dating a normal guy who works at as a military analyst for the Briggs outpost for the military. Mind blown!
Olivier’s rumoured BF is SUPER smart: The 35-year-old is said to have gone to not one, but TWO ranked universities. Yep, Jon went to the University of Amestris for his undergraduate education and also attended Briggs Military Academy. Remember, the blonde beauty graduated from Central U herself!
This possible boyfriend is ALSO a fan of nature: Reportedly, his now private Instagram account showed a series of pics of Jon being in the great outdoors, hiking, and camping in the Northern Ranges. Colour us impressed!
Jon may be exactly what Olivier needs to finally move on from her supposed ex: the athlete was said to be heartbroken following the news that rugby player Roy Mustang had given her the slip and moved onto the granddaughter of the Führer, Riza Hawkeye.
Maybe now Olivier feels ready to be happy with someone new. Is that someone Jon?
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Rebecca asked worriedly, glancing around the now deserted gangway of the stadium: the cheers were muffled, but still echoed hollowly against the cool concrete. “Like follow your heart and all that shit but it’s not gonna be a decision you can just turn your back on-”
“I know ‘Becca,” Riza replied quietly, toying with the shirt in her hands: the deep blue fabric slid easily over her fingers, the flecks of silver embroidery glinted back at her merrily. “But…I’ve got to meet him halfway, don’t I?”
Rebecca snorted. “This is more than halfway. Halfway is following his actual twitter handle instead of the spoof one – you do know it’s a spoof right? It’s important to me that you know it’s a spoof account-” Riza didn’t respond, watching one of the nearby television screens with interest as the Drakes began to run out onto the field.
Rebecca’s cheeks puffed out as she waved a hand in front of her friend’s dazed face. “This is like…eighty-five percent from you and only fifteen from him. He’s playing a game anyway – he’s not gonna see you until the second half at least with where we’re sitting!”
“That’s the point, ‘Becca. I do not want to be blamed for his fucking up of a conversion.”
Rebecca sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “It’s Drachma, Riza. They’re not gonna lose.”
“And I am not going to take any chances,” Riza replied primly, quickly putting on the shirt over the top of her singlet. It was a little baggy, but the fact that she was even able to have one – she’d have to think of something to give to Hughes to say thank you; the man was surprisingly cunning and determined. She never stood a chance of getting out of this anyway. She smoothed down the fabric and spun on her foot. “How does it look?”
“Like the cheesiest gesture since that nineteen-page spread of Hughes’ kid.” She fixed her friend with a hard stare. “You have thought about this? Like I’m not trying to jump the gun or anything here but if you guys get married or have a kid-”
“Yes, I have,” she answered irritably. “We’ve talked about how we move forward. I know the press is never going to go away but…it would be nice to give them something positive to spin. This entire week has just been about how I broke Olivier’s heart by stealing Roy away and-” she bit her lip and smiled weakly at her friend. “I need to show that I’m serious about this too.”
“This is the best way?”
“Hughes reckons it is. The press seems to like him, I’ve got no reason to suspect he’d prank his best friend quite so publicly.”
“Alrighty,” Rebecca said with an air of finality, gesturing to gate 28. “Are you ready to face the music?”
Riza nodded. “Let’s go.”
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It’s official! And in the sweetest way imaginable.
The Drakes may have had their best win against the Drachman Bears yet (74-6), but nobody is going to be talking about that (not even about the Drachman doping scandal), not after Roy Mustang’s reaction to seeing his now-confirmed girlfriend Riza Hawkeye wearing his rugby number to the game last night.
It wasn’t until after the final whistle had blown that Roy had noticed her, sitting in the front row alongside friends, insiders say. As they were congratulating their opponents, running back Maes Hughes had quickly caught up to his friend on the field, motioning to where the Führer’s granddaughter was watching. Obviously someone had been paying attention to more than just the game!
Roy was meant to be making his way over to be interviewed post-game – as Captain, it’s his job to represent the team immediately in the aftermath. Not last night though!
Instead, he made his way over to where Riza was sitting and jumped the billboard boundaries with ease, motioning at the nearest security guard to open the gate to where the seating was. Riza was quickly pushed out of her seat by an alleged friend and all but fell into her beau’s arms onto the pitch proper, smiling widely from ear to ear before Roy kissed her soundly on the mouth.
If the cheers from the stadium crowd were anything to go by, Central City appears to back this couple too!
A love story like this comes once in a lifetime – let’s hope it goes the distance!
[Watch the video 1:32m]
fin
the spoof account is a reference to holy musical b@man – “someone already took the twitter name ‘roymustang’ and all they do is tweet about how dumb i am.”
three guesses to who owns that account (and no, it’s not hughes)
182 notes · View notes
megers67 · 6 years ago
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Secondary BNHC OCs
"Secondary" simply refers to any OCs involved in Hibiki and Rin's stories who AREN'T Hibiki or Rin themselves. People who know me know that once I make an OC I can't help but... populate their social world as it were. This post will be updated when I come up with new characters or info of characters already listed here.
Class 1A (classmates of Rin and Hibiki)
Fujimoto Itaru (male) - pretty laid back guy who prefers not to really be in the center of things. As such he's easily forgotten about, but he doesn't really mind. He just goes with the flow. Though if nobody is taking charge for whatever reason, he is willing to do so for as long as he needs to even if he'd much prefer someone take that job away from him as soon as possible. It stresses him out to have that kind of responsibility. Quirk: Microelectricity - Itaru can control electricity on a molecular scale. He uses is for minor electronic work but in combat, he uses it to control electrical impulses in the human body, causing things like muscle spasms and even hallucinations if he can concentrate to influence neurons. He doesn't need to be touching, but needs to maintain a line of sight.
Akiyama Keiko (female) - Quirk: Pliabody - (no relation to Tiger?) okay look, she's basically Elastigirl. Not very original at this stage and so may change a lot. I needed a body in the fic I wanted to write (but I'm setting it aside until I'm less busy).
Family
Saito Chen (male) deceased - Hibiki's father. He was salaryman born and raised in England. His mother was the daughter of Chinese immigrants and his father immigrated from Japan. When Chen became an adult, he ended up moving to Japan for university but ended up staying when he met Shiho. He was multilingual, knowing Mandarin, English, and Japanese, though he spoke Japanese and English in his home. His household was largely Japanese in nature as it was in Japan, but little things such as his taste in tea and music remained staunchly English. He did not maintain much of his Chinese heritage in his own home, but he passed tai chi onto Hibiki who ended up putting more stock into it than he ever did. By all accounts he was quiet, yet sociable when necessary and Shiho usually brought him out of his shell. However, he changed when Shiho died. He emotionally closed himself off from the world, but largely kept up appearances. His anger and frustration was largely transferred to Hibiki going through cycles of abuse, remorse, and relapse, causing permanent damage to his daughter physically and psychologically until he met a violent end due to his own actions. Quirk: Painless - He was unable to feel pain. This did not prevent his body from being affected by damage and he sports quite a few scars from accidents (or deliberate personal exploration in his early years) throughout his life.
Saito Shiho (female) deceased - Hibiki's mother. Sweet, kind, and beloved by all. Hibiki doesn't know much about her since Shiho died around the time her quirk emerged. The two were involved in an accident caused by a villain attack, leaving Hibiki critically injured. Shiho attempted to at least ease her daughter's pain, but ended up receiving her injuries instead, causing her death. From this, Chen always blamed Hibiki for Shiho's death. Quirk: Pain Negation - Shiho could take away the physical pain felt by others for a maximum of ten minutes when she touches them. Usually enough time to take care of something important or get proper help, but doesn't address the cause of the pain itself.
Tanaka Noriaki (male) - Rin's father. He is a firefighter and passed on his desire to help others to his daughter. He is a little overprotective of his family and makes sure they have vital survival skills, likely more than any of them will ever need. Rin uses this knowledge the most in her career as a pro hero. Despite this insistence, he actually has a much more lenient parenting style than his wife, something she berates him for. He can be a bit overbearing at times, but he means well. He is a bit suspicious of people getting emotionally close to his children (not just his daughter, but his son as well) but once he has accepted their significant others, he treats them like his own flesh and blood. He is also a skilled storyteller, though tales of his exploits should be taken with a grain of salt. Quirk: Heat Immunity - Noriaki is unaffected by temperature and actually cannot feel it. He can extend this to other people as long as he maintains constant contact. This is useful in his job as a firefighter.
Tanaka Akiyo (female) - Rin's mother. She is a homemaker and a doting mother figure. She is quick to mother her children's friends even if she doesn't quite understand them. She runs the house and has a stricter parenting style than her husband, much to her annoyance. Her passion is cooking and always makes far more food than her family ever needed and makes a habit of giving extra food away to those in the community. As much of a help as Rin is in the kitchen, she secretly likes cooking with Hibiki more since she doesn't have to direct her. She became restless once her children made homes of their own and began volunteering at the local daycare center. Quirk: Heat - Like Rin's quirk, but weaker, not having a high range in temperatures (in either direction) both in terms of energy available to transfer and tolerance. Akiyo mostly uses it in relation to cooking.
Tanaka Mokichi (male) - Rin's older brother. He may act disinterested and annoyed, but he really does care about his little sister, especially after she lost her sight. He and Rin are known to engage in intense, long-term prank wars. Both of them constantly push the boundaries as to what they can get away with. As a designer, he is the one most bothered by Rin's utter disregard for fashion conventions and does what he can to curb the worst of her impulses. Seeing her as a second sister, Mokichi has also tried to help Hibiki with limited success. While she wears the clothes he gives to her, she doesn't particularly care enough to apply his advice on her own. He has resigned himself to the fact that they're hopeless cases and has determined to make sure Keitaro isn't as much of a disaster. Everyone he gives gifts to recieves clothing he designed, but it's at least clothing that he thinks they would like or even designed specifically for them. While he usually sticks to everyday clothing, he designed both Rin's and Hibiki's hero costumes (but he needed help from actual hero costume designers to do this). Quirk: Heat Vision - it isn't particularly strong, but instead of being limited to the immediate area like his mother or sister's quirks, Mokichi just needs to be in line-of-sight. He doesn't really use his quirk much beyond the occasional use in pranks.
Keitaro (male) - Hibiki (and later Rin)'s adopted son. When he was four, Hibiki responded to a domestic disturbance while on patrol and discovered Keitaro's mother abusing him. She was arrested and Hibiki was awarded temporary custody of him because he attached himself to her. Long story short, she managed to keep him, immediately determined to make sure he didn't suffer like she had in her own childhood. Since Hibiki warned Rin early on into their relationship that she wouldn't hesitate to adopt a child in need, Rin was prepared for Keitaro to stay despite being nervous around children herself (but she very quickly warmed up to the idea when she actually met him). Hibiki and Rin are hoping they got him early enough to minimize the psychological damage caused by abuse. At the very least, he seems to have accepted them as his new mothers which is very promising. Quirk: Rotation - Keitaro can make inanimate objects spin or rotate, able to control the direction and speed. As he is still young, the limits of his quirk are unknown.
Other
Ironsides (male) - Pro Hero Hibiki did her work study under. He is a bit older than a lot of other pro heroes around and some in the media consider him past his prime. This doesn't really bother him as he's learned to pretty much ignore the media long ago. While his team is small these days, he prefers to keep a balance between the quirks and fighting styles so they can work best with each other to cover weaknesses. He cares deeply for his employees and checks in on them when they cannot work. Ironsides chooses to focus on keeping track and hunting down specific villains rather than a generalized response to spontaneous villains. This methodology sees him becoming an expert of such villains and is known for organizing specialized temporary teams to take them down once ready to make his move. In all cases, he prefers to lead from the front lines as it were and takes an active role in operations even if his abilities aren't specially suited for it as he doesn't want to send someone to do something he isn't willing to also face. He makes up for this by making sure heroes with more suitable abilities are on his team. The latter part of his career however has been plagued by his latest nemesis, Viper. However, his final confrontation with Viper went horribly wrong, finally causing him to retire. Quirk: Iron Plating - Ironsides can use the iron in his body to create armor plating on his body. He can even remove this plating when they are damaged to be replaced by intact ones. They can also be given to allies or bystanders for protection. Ironsides can also control how the plates are shaped and where they appear to adapt to the circumstances. For example, they can be thicker if there is risk for large damage via explosions or slimmer to make him more agile. He can also use his quirk to create weapons, but he prefers to do this ahead of time rather than on-scene. Using his quirk too much can result in anemia so he makes sure to always carry iron supplements for emergencies. He also tries to create things he might need ahead of time so he has a chance to properly rest before going on a mission. His fighting style is usually a brawler-type hand-to-hand combat with pretty high strength obtained after a career of constantly working with heavy metal.
Viper (male) deceased - Villain and final nemesis to Ironsides. Cold and calculating, he tends to work in the underground as a drug smuggler. He prefers to stay out of the spotlight and fly under the radar, occassionally resorting to high-level henchmen to act as larger-than-they-are villains for operations that are more likely to catch attention. He isn't one to lash out in an obvious manner, but isn't afraid to throw those who he felt betrayed him to into a pit of snakes. He isn't really that dramatic, but such a dramatic action is a valuable tool to keep henchmen in line. While preferring to avoid fighting, he is very skilled in hand-to-hand combat and is more than capable of taking down anyone in his way. He just doesn't like to, choosing to enact psychological revenge that is more devastating and more permanent. However, after a career of being regularly thwarted by Ironsides (though they both won and lost many encounters), he began to plot a very public end to his enemy's career via guilt and public outrage, directly leading to what is referred to as "The Viper Incident" (I will write about this at a later time as it is very formative to Hibiki's story). This results in his death. Quirk: Snake Antivenom - Contrary to popular belief, his blood isn't venom, but antivenom. This means that he is immune to venom from snakes. He has a hidden snake farm that produces a variety of snake venoms he loads into syringes. These syringes are what he uses to attack enemies. They are colored red in order to continue the perception that his blood produces venom. Henchmen are provided a secret vial of his blood in case they accidentally get hit, but they only get one. They are instructed to destroy the antivenom if they risk being captured by heroes so they can't be stockpiled.
Smokescreen (female) - Pro Hero Rin did her work study under. She is no-nonsense and doesn't care about celebrity status, just in getting the job done. Smokescreen is careful in her actions and prefers to think things through. She is also pretty willing to allow her sidekicks to lead their own missions, provided they make their case to her first as she wants to make sure they have experience doing this instead of just following orders all the time. This is so that if there is a situation where she is not present or they wish to advance their career, they are able to handle it. This does not extend to interns or work study students as they are still minors and if something goes wrong, that is a huge liability concern. They are, however, allowed to make contributions and propose missions even if they don't ultimately lead them when the time comes. Quirk: Smoke - She can manipulate smoke to obscure and detect others and also can direct smoke away from bystanders or towards villains. She can also condense smoke particles to a hard shape of her choosing and manipulate that at will for both offense and defense. The preferred shape is sharp and whip-like. For her hero work, she usually carries around an assortment of flammable material for different kinds of smoke. Some are for signalling, others have chemical properties that would incapacitate others, etc. Smokescreen's hero suit is fire proof as her work frequently involves fire of some kind (either already present on the scene or her own making). All sidekicks are required to wear gas masks.
AU
Asano Yoriko (female) Vigilante!Hibiki AU - Nurse with lab training who got fired from her job after she was caught stashing pain killers. Desperate for a job to support her three kids, she is hired at The Bunker due to her experience in the medical system, good work ethic, and ability to keep secrets. While Hibiki doesn't encourage the habit, she is willing to look the other way as long as the inventory is kept honest (adjusted when any went "missing") and that any recreational usage is done off the clock so patients aren't compromised. She is good at her job and runs The Bunker when Hibiki is at school. Quirk: Compound Identification - This is an extremely useful quirk in a clinic that can't obtain reliable lab equipment or technicians who know how to use it without drawing suspicion. Yoriko can taste the molecular compounds of a given substance if she has at least two milliliters of it. She keeps a lot of reference books to help her identify complex materials. She is not immune to the effects of such substances, but the dosage is so low that there usually isn't much risk, even if she needs repeat testing to narrow it down. Yoriko only does this for blood work and knows how to run basic lab work on obsolete equipment for other kinds of... samples. Even still, she keeps copious amounts of mouthwash around. Just eating food is a weird experience because she can't help but taste all of its components, but she is largely used to it by now.
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