#I’ve been so busy that i had to dedicate every free moment today to finishing my book club book (which i did! right on time thank you)

[emmaspolaroid]

what a long day

[kayxleeee]

Tony Stark: Are We Fighting?(Tony x Reader)

Tony Stark: Are We Fighting?(Tony x Reader)

Warning: Sexual implying if you squint.  Tony being cute and you being mad at him for a second.

A/N: Y’all this is my favorite, I love Tony fluff.

Summary: Tony’s in deep water after you notice the “head of security” watching your every move for an entire week straight. The only problem is, it’s date night, and can you really stay mad at someone with that face? 

Word Count: 2k+

*NOT MY GIF* Don’t copy my work !

The aroma of tomato sauce and Italian herbs wafted the air around you immediately as you swung the large front door open, walking in. Tonight was date night, you were starving, but you had a serious bone to pick with the conniving genius. You kick your heels off and make your way through the foyer greeted by dimmed lights, a candle lit living room, soft romantic music playing, and an excessive amount of rose peddles leading up the grand staircase.

Nice touch Stark.

You look at it all in awe, but try to snap out of it, because you meant business tonight.

“Tony?!” You call out wondering where he was.

“In here.” He says peaking his head through the kitchen entry way, wiping his hands dry on a dish towel. “You look ravishing.” He says as he makes his way over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist giving you a quick hug and kiss on your forehead. “This isn’t too much is it?”

This was probably the best one yet. You were delighted at his efforts to make date nights memorable, especially since you hardly saw him. He had either been busy being an avenger or down in his lab working his life away. You were also very busy yourself running Stark Industries. Between the meetings and work related calls, it was a very rare occasion when you and Tony could just enjoy each others company. So this was when weekly date nights were born; Just a time to catch up and be together and have unadulterated quality time. You sigh taking it all in. Tony always does them well, especially when he is trying to make up for something. The dimmed lights, roses, music, candles, even his cologne— god, did his cologne smell good, intoxicating even. You could swoon right then and there the atmosphere was the definition of romantic and relaxing and here you are ready to uproar it all.

Damn, right.

“Told you date night would be extraordinary tonight.” He smirks taking your silence as a sign that you were pleased, while wiggling his eyebrows up and down. “Be back in a sec, get comfy.” He says giving you a wink before turning away.

He makes his way back into the kitchen to finish up whatever he had been doing previous and you follow him. He turns around and gives you a weird look, scrunching his face as he sees you following behind him. Those dazzling brown eyes weren’t going to get you this time, you were still mad— Maybe not as mad as you were before coming through that front door, but still upset enough to confront the issue right now.

“So something interesting happened to me today.” You say setting your purse on the kitchen counter as Tony strategically plates the pasta he made.

“Oh yeah?” He says maneuvering through the kitchen. “And what might that be kitten?” After he’s done, he turns to you popping an olive into his mouth, as he leans against the counter behind, ready listen attentively.

“Well I was ya know working my little ass off, minding my business… Ya know as I do every single day. When I noticed a very attentive Happy Hogan, watching my every move.” You say eyeing him suspiciously as he smiled innocently. “I thought to myself, now I’ve been seeing Happy in all sorts of wacky places this week, why would he do something like that?”

“I donno, why babe?” He says dusting his hands together for no particular reason looking everywhere else, but your face.

“Mmmh- maybe he’s just being his old paranoid, overbearing self this week. Watching my every move for no apparent reason.” You say testily, you already know Stark put him up to it. 

“Happy is very dedicated to his new position. Didn’t you hear? He’s head of security, babe. He’s gotta be eyes and ears.” He sighs, now moving from his leaning position to begin pouring two glasses of bubbly. “That’s our Happy for ya."

Of course you heard, and of course Tony was the one who appointed him, and of course Stark Industries did not need that.

“Oh jeez golly! Eyes and ears on little ol me?” You say in a fake sarcastic souther bell accent. 

He raises his eyebrows, and gives you a well justified laugh, because that accent was horrendous.

“Did you send happy to spy on me or what Tony?” You say getting to the point.

“No.” He says shaking his head from side to side frantically like a child who’s just got caught stealing from the cookie jar. “Nope, I don’t recall.”

“You don’t recall?” You scoff. “It’s a very simple thing to remember doing Tony. Did you say oh Happy please spy on my faithful, loyal, beautiful, loving, girlfriend?”

“Um— are we fighting?” We're not fighting are we?” He sighs genuinely unsure.

You didn’t want to fight or argue either, but he was getting on your nerves beating around the bush. You already knew he did it, you just needed to know why.

“Sure, we aren’t fighting Tony.” You say annoyance booming through, hoping he would just come out with it. He was definitely pushing your buttons. “Now did you send him?” 

“ I don’t recall.” He says again now putting on a fake ‘thinking’ face.

“You don’t recall asking him?! Okay, well I am sure if we give him a call that might jog your little memory.” You grab your phone out of your purse quickly dialing his number. “Mmmh I think you’ve been hit on the head entirely way too many times, ya know since you can’t recall events.”

Before you can press the dial button to call Happy, Tony swiftly reaches over the counter where you are standing and snatches the phone from your grip, ending the call before it’s made. 

“Okay, listen baby, I think we’re fighting, and I don’t want to fight tonight.” He says with pleading eyes putting his hands up in defense.

“Tony!” You yell at him going to where he is standing in the spacious kitchen. “You're not answering my question and you should have thought about that before asking Happy to spy on me!” Which I’m not understanding what for! Just say you don’t trust me and leave it at that, why play all these games?!”

His face flattened.

“Okay, kitten, listen it wasn’t like that. I do too trust you.”

So he did put Happy up to it— of course he did.

“You better explain or I’m Leaving Tony.”

He sighs heavily, shame settling on his features. 

“Happy brought up this guy? Aldrich Killian, said you dated him a while back?" “Oh my go- you don’t trust me!” You exhaust throwing your hands up and turning on the heels of your feet ready to retreat out of the kitchen.

“No!” Tony quickly follows behind you. Come on babe, let’s talk about this!” He says grabbing you by your shoulder gently spinning you around.

“Tony you’re doing a lot of the talking, and only digging yourself in a deeper hole.” You say crossing your arms. 

“Okay, let’s back track, I trust you, with everything I own, my life even. I’ve just been overwhelmed and overthinking recently. I can’t say what I did was right, but in the moment I didn’t feel it was exactly wrong either.”

“In the moment Tony really? What moment did you realize I needed to be spied on like some convict? What moment did you realize you didn’t trust me alone at work with some guy, I hardly ever dated by the way!”

“Okay, okay! I did not send him to spy on you, I sent him to keep an eye on you.”

“Same shit Sherlock and I don’t appreciate it ! You say you trust me but tis is definitely not how it’s coming off.” You huff in annoyance, trying to grab your phone from him again, in which he manages to keep it away from you snacking his free arm around you. “Give it back now, I’m leaving Tony!”

“Would you stop getting mad?!” He huffs. “Just- it’s not a trust thing baby. It’s a safety thing.”

“I wouldn’t be getting mad if you’d just tell me the truth and stop beating around the damn bush. I’m over it anyways, I’m going to be leaving now, so give me my phone and let me go.” He rolls his eyes and pulls you into him closer. “No you’re not leaving , stop being dramatic.” He says holding onto you tight, still holding the phone away from your grasp with his other hand. You scrunch up your face about to say something,  about his remark, but he quickly says. “And don’t be mad that I think you’re being dramatic about this.” He says to ensure he digs himself out of being in trouble over that stupid comment.

He continues, “You already know I trust you so don’t give me that. I did all of this because I love you.” He says holding you close and swaying the two of you slightly to the music that is still playing softly in the background.

“Not the because I love you speech.” You say rolling your eyes, hands resting on his chest trying to create distance between the two of you, but he just pulls you back into him. “You are so annoying.” You comment on the action, surrendering to his grasp.

“No it’s not like that, I just needed to make sure you were safe. No malicious thought behind it or intent, I swear. I just wanted to make name you are safe at all times.” He says softly with a sigh as he feels that you’ve calmed down.

“Why wouldn’t I be safe at work?” You say looking up at him. He now sets your phone down on the near by counter and places the hand to your face, caressing your cheek.

“Anyone can be in danger anywhere honey, I’ve learned that the hard way— and if I were to loose you? Well let’s just say for my sake and peace of mind, I might of let fear cloud my judgment and asked Happy to keep an eye on you. No spying, just an eye. You know how he gets.” He looks deeply into your eyes and you could tell he was telling the truth. “I’m sorry, okay?” He leans into you just enough to rub his nose against yours playfully. “Do you accept my apology?” He says in a child like voice, giving you puppy dogs eyes.

He was so cute.

“Okay fine, I’m hearing you.” You say caving in. “But you’ve gotta stop him from following my every move— if I’m going to the bathroom, I don’t need him right out the door.” You huff.

“Done, you got it, Happy is officially barred off of bathroom duties. Can we kiss and make up now?” He says this as his lips ghost over yours and you happily lean into the kiss, knowing full well it was long overdue after how hard he worked to impress you tonight. This kiss was sweet and sincere, while also deep and romantic. 

“I love you.” He says after breaking the kiss.

“You're a pain, but I love you too.” You both laugh before you give him another kiss. 

“Now are we still fighting?” He smirks after pulling away a second time. “Just wanna double check before I invest.”

“You're so annoying.” You laugh rolling your eyes playfully. “No we aren’t.”

“Good because our spaghetti is getting cold and our chardonnay is getting flat.” He says intertwining your fingers and spinning you around to walk into the living room. “And you look entirely too good to keep this on all night.” He says referring to your outfit. “I can’t believe you were going to call Happy.”

“Well how about next time, you don’t play with me.” You laugh ready to enjoy your dinner.

“Oh, but honey, playing with you is my favorite thing to do. I especially love it when you scream my name.” He smirks giving you a wink.

Comments, Questions, Opinions :)

See more of what I have written so far: Masterlist

[quartzwriting]

The Agent and Her Sorcerer

Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader

Description: You, an agent who works with The Avengers, comes back to the compound to find that Doctor Strange has brought you coffee.

Warnings: mentions of drinking and doing the dirty

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: Originally posted on Quotev | Things have been busy, so has mental heath things, so idk when new things will come out. I love this piece tho so I hope this makes up for it. 

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

Gif by @cumberbatchlives

Technically a sequel to The Sorcerer and The Agent

When you stepped off the jet and onto the landing, you let out a long breath of relief. That field mission was finally over. It was an early call that got you out of bed before the sun came up. Too early for your body to function, but with the encouragement of coffee and Captain Rogers forcing you out of bed, you conquered the task. You checked your phone for the time, it was now around noon. You were ready to sit down, maybe even take a nap. You desperately needed a break.

But you knew you would not be able to rest.

Tony was already on your ass. He came out of nowhere, scaring the life back into you, and shoved a tablet in your hands. "Before you file your report, you got another one."

You groaned, falling into step beside him to make your way into the building. "Already?"

Tony pushed a few things on your tablet and an image came up. It was one of the objects you had recovered from this morning's mission. On the side was a stream of jumbled letters and numbers.

"Decoding, seriously?"

Tony shrugged, with a grin on his face that you wanted to punch off. "Hey, you're best for the job."

"Can't FRIDAY just run through it?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

You glared at him.

"Come on, you got this."

You rolled your eyes, "Fine. Only because it might give us a new lead."

"Atta girl! Don't stress yourself out."

You were already stressed.

"Oh and by the way, someone in the lounge is here to see you."

After a brief moment of surprise, you knew who it was. Tony saw the smile appear on your face, then winked at you. You rolled your eyes at him.

You tucked the tablet under your arm and made your way to the lounge. Maybe you were getting a little break before continuing for the day after all. A small amount of energy that came from your happiness pushed you forwards.

When you got there, sure enough, there he was.

"Hey, I thought you might want coffee."

You chuckled. Of course you wanted coffee.

Stephen Strange had a coffee tray in his hands that had two cups in it. He was standing around looking a little awkward, a little out of place at the compound. He looked relived to see you, as if anyone else in the doorway would made him embarrassed. His serious demeanor was no where in sight, a hint of warmth in his cheeks.

He wasn't wearing his sorcerer robes, but casual clothes. A jacket, dark jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt, simple things that you got to see him in more often now. You liked it. Very much.

Without any hesitation, you made your way over to him. Giving him a big smile the entire way. You put your tablet down so you could take the cup he was holding out for you. "Thank you." Your gloved hands brushed against his bare shaking ones. The contact was enough to widen your smile.

"Don't mention it."

"Hi! How are you? What's new?" You asked him, leaning one hand on a table and sipping your coffee with the other.

Stephen let out a breath, "Well this morning I helped to try and close a dimensional rip in space time. If we hadn't managed to close it then it would have swallowed an entire country."

"Sounds exciting, Doctor." You hid a smirk behind a look of playfully exaggerated interest.

"Oh it was." He was trying to hide a smirk too, "How about you, Agent (L/N)?" His cheek twitched, trying desperately to not let that smirk slide through.

"Well I just came back from a mission in London where an very well hidden Hydra base was found. There were a few of their agents there, kicked some ass, and managed to recover some of their tech and files. You know, normal things."

"This is a very casual conversation despite its content." He commented.

You both broke after that, smirks turning into fits of chuckles. You reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

The two of you were developing into a 'thing' recently. Whenever he would come to the compound, you would have your eye on him. And you could feel his eye on you as well. It had been going back and forth for a while, finding excuses to talk to each other and purposely being in the same room as one another. Casual attraction.

You noticed the little details in him. Taking every opportunity to make a snarky comment during meetings. Dedication and a 'cool calm' overtaking him whenever disusing anything serious. His gaze of sparkling blue, sharp features, and welcoming smile. The very presence of him either made your heart stop or quicken, sometimes both simultaneously.

Whenever you were both having a conversation, whether for work or just friendly chatter, you found yourself entranced by him. His voice, his gorgeous face, his personality. Not casual attraction anymore, you were sightly obsessed.

But there was always this look in his eyes, that he recognized your attraction to him. And a look that told you he had similar emotions. You just knew it. You paid attention to him. You noticed him paying attention to you with interest, catching him staring on occasion.

Things had went from zero to one hundred at a party that Tony threw last week. You had a little too much to drink. Stephen did too. You found yourselves alone. Things escalated from there. You woke up the next morning in his bed in the New York sanctum, cuddled in his arms. You both went out for breakfast that morning. He took you out for dinner a day after.

Ever since then, he shows up at the compound when he can, or calls you to ask how you are doing. Work for both of you has gotten pretty busy lately so finding time to go out together was hard. But you promised each other another date as soon as you both were free.

This was a long time coming, you both knew that. All it took was one little push. But you did not expect that push to be a little alcohol. It happened anyways, so you decided to take it without complaints.

Stephen looked around, making sure no one else was in the room to intrude. After confirming, he leaned down and stole a kiss from you. You giggled and let him, leaning up into him. He pulled away to let you have another sip of your coffee.

He wasn't drinking from his own cup. You felt his eyes on you. It did not take long to figure out why. You were still in your uniform, one that is similar to Natasha's. Black bodysuit, weapons belt. Skin tight. A blush crept up on your face, some memories coming back from that night. He has seen you wearing this before, but now his gaze had a different weight to it.

"Liking the view, Strange?" You asked with a raised eyebrow and mischief glittering in your eyes.

He shrugged, "Now that I know what it all looks like, I like the view even more." Casual. Calm. Cocky.

You playfully smacked him on the shoulder, bringing his hint of a smile into light. Tucking the tablet under your arm, coffee in one hand and Stephen's own hand in another, you pulled him over to one of the couches. The two of you sat down. "I have a little tech and paperwork to do right now. You're welcome to stay while I do it, if you're free."

He relaxed beside you, an arm slinging over the back of the couch. "I've got time. Wong is watching the Sanctum, I have the afternoon off."

"Maybe if I finish early we can go out?" You asked with a perky smile.

He gestured to your open tablet. "Better get to work then." You laughed, quickly kissed him, and did get to work. You explained to him your tasks, the decoding you needed to do and then fill out your mission report file. He seemed interested, looking over your shoulder the whole time as you explained your process. He watched you complete the decoding, send the results to the cloud, and start typing away at your morning's mission report.

Stephen's presence behind you the entire time was comforting, taking away some of the stress of your busy work. His warmth and the smell of coffee in the air made you content. You felt him start to fiddle with the tails of your hair, you jokingly swatting him away before he went right back to it.

During the breakfast date, and the dinner date, you saw more little things about him you liked. There was curiosity and interest in his eyes. Behind that serious shell was gentleness and kindness, a full heart who thinks for others. It was like after that night, you got to see the real Stephen Strange, not the Sorcerer Supreme. He was a gentle lover, even drunk, making sure you were comfortable the entire time. Eating out together, he was a gentleman. Seeing him around the compound, he seemed to be smiling more.

You never knew the great Doctor Stephen Strange was a total softy. It made you like him even more.

While writing, you found yourself putting extra care into reviewing the mission and its details. This may have been caused by knowing Stephen was watching your every move and you wanted to make a good impression of your work ethic. You made sure to skim through for any mistakes or typos in your writing as well. After some time, discarded cups on the coffee table and Stephen now subtly nuzzling your neck, you submitted your report.

"Do you have to do that after every mission?" The man who was practically wrapping his entire body around yours on the couch asked.

"Yeah. That was one of the longer ones. Most things were more straightforward this time around, but I did a lot in London today." You heaved a sigh, momentary wiggled out of Stephen's arms to plunk your tablet down on the coffee table, and relaxed back into the couch.

"Have anything else to do?" He asked.

"Not currently." You turned to him, now giving him your full attention. He seemed to like it.

"Well then, maybe you and me can go grab lunch?"

"I'd like that."

You watched his eyes dip down, briefly glancing at your lips before looking back up at your eyes. You caught him. This told you what he was thinking about, and soon you were thinking about it yourself. And then you were doing it. One of his hands rested on your cheek, the other found your waist as he kissed you. Your hands tangled around his neck and up into his hair gently.

It was like you lost track of time. You just focused on Stephen, a hand of his running over the fabric of your tight uniform.

"I'm glad Tony threw that party."

You and Stephen urgently parted at the interruption. Standing in the doorway, Steve and Natasha had smug grins. They were still in their uniforms from the mission, Steve's shield strapped across his back. You groaned.

When you told only one person that you went home with Stephen that night, it had spread through the compound like wildfire. Your coworkers all knew, and they were relieved. Finally, they had said. You must have not noticed how obvious you and Stephen's electric stares and intrigued chatter were.

You were a little embarrassed at being caught making out, but the embarrassment practically radiated off Stephen. He immediately straightened upright and cleared his throat. Apparently he did not show his vulnerable side to anyone but you, him instantly clicking back into a neutral expression when facing someone else.

Nat got right to the point, ignoring the irritated look on your face, "We got a new lead. There was a new location marked in one of their files found in London. Venice. We leave in thirty."

A frown glazed your features. You were really looking forward to spending some time with Stephen again. You looked at Stephen, who shared a mutual disappointed look in his eyes. But you knew that he would go let you work. It was annoying.

It wouldn't hurt to ask. Would it?

You stood up from the couch, grabbing your tablet to pull up your report again. You strided towards your bosses, a lick of confidence in your posture.

"Um actually I was kinda hoping if I could get the rest of the day off." You sang.

Steve let out a breath in a smug laugh, while Nat was hiding one of her own.

With a smile, you handed Nat your tablet, the mission report on the screen. Clean, detailed, care put into it, reflecting your hard work you had accomplished all morning. You saw her eyes look it over, the captain leaning in to do the same.

"You did work hard this morning." Steve pointed out.

"And you did eventually save our asses in the end." Nat added.

As you said to Stephen earlier, you did kick ass during the mission.

You gave them a look of hope. It was obvious what you wanted, they both knew it. For some reason you felt like they were lengthening the moment to tease you. To leave you in anticipation.

After what felt like minutes instead of seconds, the two turned to each other and exchanged expressions. Steve nodded. Natasha handed back your tablet.

"Go play with your sorcerer and his magic hands." Natasha whispered to you with a wink. A deep blush crept up onto your neck, and you saw her smirk. Scrunching your face up in a mock sneer, you snatched your tablet back.

"Have fun, you two." Steve said as a goodbye, and him and Natasha left the lounge to get ready for part two of today's investigation.

You turned back to Stephen. He had an impressed look on his face. Now standing, he threw away your empty coffee cups in a nearby bin."You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Too bad. Already did." You shrugged, sauntering back over to stand in front of him.

Stephen gave you a smile, and opened a slingring portal right in front of you both. "Then lets go."

You put down your tablet and went to empty your weapons belt. "I'm still in uniform, Stephen." You laughed, "I should go change first."

The sorcerer snapped his fingers, and your skintight Avengers uniform turned into a pair of leggings and a blouse. An outfit Stephen had complimented you on last week. You were surprised he remembered it.

You rolled your eyes at him, and before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the portal.

[liliesinrequiem]

Poem

A/N: I’m back! With another Kaeya fic. This is technically set during the Windblume Festival with certain changes. I hope you all enjoy <3.

This could also be read as a sequel to: Forfeit (Kaeya x AFAB!Reader). It doesn’t have to be read before this one really since you aren’t really missing much. You can if you want. 

Pairing: Kaeya x Reader

Summary: Kaeya convinces you to write a poem during the Windblume Festival. You refuse to show it to him after hearing his ‘poem’ and avoid him for the rest of the day until you were unable to. 

CW: Mentions of alcohol

“Why don’t you try and write a love poem then?” he asked. A teasing smile on his face. 

“My way with words is incomparable to yours,” you said. He was the most convincing person that you knew. There was a reason that he was so loved. Just from speaking with him for a little while, a person would totally be enraptured by him. A charming man, truly. 

“Didn’t you write that one riddle when I had to arrest those treasure hoarders? The one that could’ve been out of a romantic novel,” he said. 

“I was inspired,” you mumbled. That whole setup had been some of your finest work. The maps and the riddles were something that you had dedicated some time to. Of course, he’d given a lot of guidelines as to how they should be. You’d just done a lot of the creative work. Everything just fell into place so well for him in the end. The dinner you earned was nice as well. 

“Then be inspired again. I’ll show you mine if you write one and show me,” he said. 

A fair trade you supposed as you took a piece of paper. The poem came easier to you than you expected. Maybe your own heart did have some inspiration that you did not desire to admit. 

“That’s what you were writing this entire time?” you asked after his poem was read out loud by Venti. You were tightly holding onto your own poem, wrinkling its prior smoothness. Whatever thoughts you had in mind of sharing your own poem had vanished into thin air. 

“Poetic, no?” he asked. You glared at him. Poetic? Sure. A love poem? No. Beyond that, when did he even have time to learn the language of the Hilichurl? 

“I feel like I have to fail you for this,” said Venti, confused by what he had read.

“Please do,” you said. 

“Did you write a poem, (Y/N)?” asked Paimon, pointing at the piece of paper in your hand. Everyone’s eyes turned to you and you could see how the Captain was smiling. Embarrassment filled your body as you folded it quickly and shook your head. He would not manage to win.

“Nope! This is just a list of things I have to do at the moment. Now, if you’ll excuse me!” You stored the poem in your dress as you left the room and the building. You’d rather be outside and help out there than remain within the same room as Kaeya. 

---

“Lumine!” you said as you saw her a while later. You’d been helping out Noelle with carrying around some materials that were needed for the festival. But your friend was much faster and stronger than you were so she was probably at the destination. 

“(Y/N)! Captain Kaeya asked us to search for you! He wants to talk to you,” said Paimon. 

“Oh? He couldn’t search for me himself?” you asked. A question that probably sounded meaner than you intended it to. 

“He said he was too busy finishing up some paperwork for Jean,” answered Lumine, “So we came looking for you. 

“You’re too kind. No wonder you’re an Honorary Knight. But I can’t go right now.” You continued, “Tell him that I can speak with him later.” You really did not want to see him. You felt...slightly hurt. You weren’t even sure why you were. Actually, you did know why you were upset. You just didn’t want to admit it. In truth, you had hoped that his poem would actually have meaning. Unrealistically and stupidly, you had hoped that his poem might’ve been a confession. 

But that was the thing about your relationship with him. It was more of something that you were walking in the dark, with no real designation of whether or not you were going in the right direction, and hoping that you end up at the right place. For all you knew, Kaeya was probably waiting for the day that he’d drop you and move onto the next one. Even with that possibility, you continued giving your heart to him. Whether that was stupid or not, you were still not fully sure. Some days it was worth it and others, not so much. 

“We could help you so that you can talk with him. He said it was urgent,” explained Lumine. You didn’t doubt that he had told her that. He probably believed that if you were told that it was urgent, you’d drop everything and run to see what he wanted to see. You usually did but you felt that you had to hold your ground for a while longer. 

“Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll talk to him when I can. He’ll understand,” you said. You bid them farewell and continued carrying the crate.

---

You’d managed to avoid him for most of the day. That was until you were called to Angel’s Share and asked to take him home. When you asked why they couldn’t, excuses came flying at you. Sister Rosaria said that she couldn’t as she had business to take care of and Diluc couldn’t either since he had to close up the place. Convenient that they both chose to do that now. 

“Thank you, (Y/N).” You only mumbled a ‘no problem’ in response to Diluc’s gratitude as you pulled Kaeya to lean on your shoulder. The promise of free drinks motivated you to get the job done quickly. 

“(Y/N)-” “Captain, be quiet. I would prefer if you didn’t get sick on me,” you cut him off. The walk back to his apartment was a hassle. It was either that he continued trying to ramble to you or that he was leaning too much on you and you had to take small breaks. You truly were exhausted from those crates earlier.

“Where’s your key?” you asked when the two of you stopped in front of his door. A fruitless question as his mind was somewhere else you would soon realize.

“How come you didn’t come to me when I asked earlier?” he asked. You didn’t answer as you checked both his pockets and fished out the key from the left one. To ask the question again would probably cause him to start talking about something else and you most definitely did not want to talk about anything. 

“(Y/N),” he said.

“What?” Your voice sounded more angry than you meant. You pushed the door open and kicked it to close when the both of you got through. You sat him on his bed and started to look around the cabinets for a glass to fill it with water. 

“Have you been ignoring me?” He sounded hurt. A rare sight to ever behold when he was constantly brushing everything off. Kaeya was rarely a vulnerable person. Years of having built up the walls around him to keep people out led him to being closed off from everyone. The fewest times that he was vulnerable was in the dead of night or when he was drunk. Every single thing that he ever expressed during those times had been stored into your heart. 

“I’ve been busy today,” you answered as you handed him the glass of water. You turned to start looking for some clothes for the night. You doubted that he’d appreciate sleeping in his work outfit.

“That’s never stopped you before,” he countered as he drank the water. No response came from you since you knew him to be right. There was one time where you had to finish up something for Lisa and stopped doing it because he’d bothered you enough to do something for him. The librarian was upset and you only barely learned your lesson.

“Was it because of my poem?” You wondered how he even managed to figure that out. 

“Maybe,” you said, “I just expected a bit more from you.” The poem that you had written for him was still in one of your dress pockets and felt like a stone that weighed on you. You’d poured a bit of your heart into it and the courage to give it to him withered away when Venti read his poem.  

“I wrote an actual one,” he said. You placed some clothes on the nightstand and turned to look at him.

“Is that so?” you asked. You steadied him from falling over after you made your question. Just how much alcohol did he consume? The tab he had must be astronomical. Maybe not as bad as Venti’s or what yours had been at one point, but it had to be huge. Though you were jealous of his ability to remain coherent enough with everything in his system.

“Yes,” he said, “It’s here.” He pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his shirt. “Read it,” he said as he pushed the paper into your hands. 

You shook your head. For all you knew, it could be another joke and you weren’t sure that you could handle it. At least not with him looking at you while you read it. “Let’s get you to bed, Kaeya.” 

“But I want you to read it,” he whined. 

“And I want you to sleep because you’re drunk,” you said. 

After you’d spent some time convincing him to change and to get ready for bed, you sat down at the edge of the bed and opened up the paper. He’d fallen asleep rather quickly and you breathed a sigh of relief as your eyes traveled to the first words on the paper. 

“(Y/N),” began the poem. 

---

In the early morning, Kaeya woke up with a mild headache. Memories of the day before were hazy as the hangover hit him hard. He looked at his nightstand and saw a glass of water and a small bottle of medicine. 

Beside the nightstand was a small piece of paper. On it, there were three words: To My Captain. 

[hardcasey]

Sweet Tooth

Won't Fade into the Background - Part 2

Pairing: Toast x F!Reader

Summary: You are an owner of a bakery on Coruscant and end up running into a certain clone with a penchant for baked goods. 

Word Count: 7k (I got carried away lmao)

Rating/Warnings: T, Mostly fluff again, though it gets a little PG-13 at the end. Nothing too crazy tho.

A/N: Who’s more of a background clone than everyone’s fave boy Toast? I decided to give him the classic bakery au meet-cute that he deserves. <3 Not proofread so let me know if there are any glaring errors!

“You sure you don’t need any help cleaning up?” Your employee, Vella, called from the front of the shop. 

You poked your head out through the little window that separated the kitchen from the rest of the store. “I’m good, Vel. Go enjoy your Friday night.” 

“Alright, night boss,” The Twi’lek woman gave you a mock salute and laughed when she saw you roll your eyes before turning and heading out the door into the busy Coruscant streets. 

You turned back to your current task, taking inventory. It was not the most glamorous job, in fact it was your least favorite part about owning your own business, but it had to be done. With a sigh, you started counting, quickly losing yourself in the monotony. 

You were the proud owner of a small bakery on Coruscant. It was not the most lucrative job by far, but it had always been your dream to bake for a living, and you were proud to have achieved that goal so quickly. It had taken a lot of hard work to get to where you were now, along with quite a bit of luck. You had been finishing up your last year in culinary school when you walked by a place for rent right in the heart of the city. It had been right around when the war started, and the owner wanted to sell off the space as quickly as possible. You had the sneaking suspicion that he may have been involved with the Separatists and was trying to jump ship and flee the planet. Honestly, you didn’t really care what his deal was, only that he was giving you the place for a steal. Seppie or not, you were thankful for him. There was no other way you would have been able to afford a place in this part of the city otherwise. 

You had dropped a considerable portion of your savings into the purchase and renovation of the bakery, and there were times that you were subsisting off of nothing but cheap instant noodles, but everything had worked out in the end. The prime location meant there was a lot of foot traffic and it didn’t take long before you were turning a profit. And the quality of your pastries and baked goods earned you a loyal customer base, and you had many regulars that stopped in for a cup of caf and a little treat on their way to work. 

Once you finished up taking inventory, you headed out to the front to start cleaning up, stacking the chairs up on the tables so you could start sweeping. You were saving up for a droid that would sweep the floors for you, but you were still a ways off from that so you had to do it the old fashioned way. 

It was then that you noticed there was someone looking in through the window, clearly ogling the display of pastries and cakes that was there. The light from the setting sun pouring through the window cast their face in shadow, so you couldn’t tell who it was. 

Might as well invite them in, you thought to yourself as you leaned the broom against the wall. After all, the bakery wasn’t technically closed yet, though you almost never had customers at this time. 

You swung the door open and were about to say something to the figure when you saw them jump, clearly not realizing you were there. 

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry for scaring you! I just wanted to let you know that the bakery is still open if you want anything.” You said gently, holding your hands up in a placating manner. 

Now that you were outside, you could see the figure more clearly. They were a human male, with tan skin and warm brown eyes. He was wearing a grey uniform and his short dark hair was partly obscured by a matching grey hat. He seemed very familiar to you, and you were about to ask if you knew him, before it hit you. Duh! He was a clone. You weren’t used to seeing clones in anything other than their distinctive white armor, so it took a moment for your brain to put two and two together. 

“Oh, uh, I was just looking, ma’am! I’m very sorry.” He said quickly, the same way that a kid who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar would. He looked so sheepish, as if he was about to bolt any second. You weren’t sure why he was so apologetic, he was just looking through the window. A bunch of people did that. 

“No need to apologize, everyone looks through the windows.” You said, flashing him what you hoped was a reassuring smile. 

“I, uh, just wasn’t sure if you were gonna run me out or something,” he told you, averting his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Why would I do that?” 

“Not many businesses are open to clones, and I wasn’t sure. I’ve never seen any clones in your shop and I guess I just assumed.” 

Okay, that lowkey made your blood boil. Why would anyone discriminate against the clones? They were the ones putting their lives on the line to protect the Republic, for kriffs sake! You hadn’t interacted with many clones, but the ones you had run into were nothing but polite and respectful. 

“That’s terrible! We absolutely allow clones here! You know what, come inside. There are still some pastries leftover from today. I’ll put them in a box for you and you can bring them back to your, er, squad? Company? Your friends!” You finished breathlessly, a little embarrassed you knew so little about anything involving the military. 

“Are you sure? I-I don’t have any money to pay for them,” He said sadly, his eyes darting down to his shoes as if there was suddenly something fascinating about them. 

“Nonsense! They’ll be going bad soon anyway and will just end up in the trash. You’ll be doing me a favor, honestly.” Without allowing him to protest further, you grabbed his elbow and tugged him into your shop. In the back of your mind you registered how big his bicep felt, which surprised you. He looked fit, yes, but it wasn’t like he was some meathead. Maybe his uniform just did a good job of disguising how strong he was. You felt yourself blush once you realised the path your thoughts had veered down and quickly pushed them out of your mind. 

“It smells good in here,” he said to no one in particular as he dropped his harm and headed behind the counter to start filling a box with leftover pastries. 

You smiled at him, before you realised something. “Forgive my manners, but I didn’t catch your name.” 

“CT-1928, ma’am.” He replied, his back straightening ever so slightly as he did, as if the action was ingrained in him.

“Do you have a nickname? I know a lot of clones go by them instead of their number.” You said delicately. You didn’t want to offend him by asking, but it felt so strange, so dehumanizing, to call him by a number. 

“Oh, uh, my brothers call me Toast.” He said, once again sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not the greatest nickname, but it’s the one that stuck.” 

“Haha, I think it’s cute. And don’t worry, my parents used to call me Possum when I was little, because I used to climb around and get into the trash. It was cute until they said it in front of my friends, then they started calling me that too.” 

He laughed at that, his shoulders relaxing, his posture not so stiff. “My brothers started calling me Toast because the first time they served toast in the cafeteria after I got my assignment, I ate so many pieces I made myself sick.” 

“Pfft. That’s amazing,” You laughed as you shuffled things around so you could fit one last croissant inside. You got the sense the clones didn’t often get to have sweets, so you were going to make sure Toast could bring as many back as possible. “So are you here on shore leave?” 

“I’m actually a member of the Coruscant Guard. So I’m here often. Well all the time. I walk by this place every time they send me off to run errands, which is often since I’m still the new guy.” 

“Oh, that’s cool. That means you work with senators, right? That must be… something.” You’d read stories on the holonet about some of the more notorious senators and you doubted they treated the clones particularly well. 

“I haven’t personally worked with any members of the senate, though a lot of my brothers have. Most of my day is spent staring at security cameras. So, pretty boring. Though I’m not complaining.” 

You tied up the package with a neat little bow before handing it to him, another bright smile flashing across your face. Something about his earnest, open demeanor was very endearing to you and you secretly hoped you’d get to see him again soon. If not anything else, you could at least learn a little more about the clones that dedicated their lives to protecting the Republic, since your knowledge on the subject was apparently so lacking. 

“Well it’s good to hear that you’re local. Hopefully you can stop by again the next time you’re running errands. And feel free to invite your brothers too!” 

“T-thank you, ma’am. That is very kind of you.” He said before taking the box of pastries in his hand, holding it almost reverently. He was trying to hide it but you could tell he was very excited to eat some sweets later. 

With one last nod he headed out of the store, the bell chiming lightly after him. You stood there, simply watching his receding form blend into the crowd, catching yourself smiling at the prospect of seeing him again. 

~~~

Toast hadn’t made it three steps into the barracks before his vode were descending upon him. Well not really him as much as the box full of sugary confections in his hands. 

“What ya got there?” Jek inquired, already tugging at the ribbon to investigate the box’s contents. 

Toast shoved his greedy hands out of the way and marched over to the counter where they kept the caf machine, which was in a perpetual state of disarray. The caf machine was old, probably older than any of them, and saw high traffic 24/7. Honestly, with the amount it leaked and sputtered, it was a miracle the machine was still functioning. Toast hoped it would at least until the war was over because when it went, Fox would be in the grave right next to it. 

“You know that bakery on the way back from the Jedi temple?” Toast inquired as he placed the box on the counter, starting to pick at the knot so he could open it without cutting the ribbon. It was a pretty striped pastel pink and he wanted to keep it. 

“The one with the little tooka-shaped cookies?” Rhys’ eyes went wide with excitement. 

“Yeah, the lady who worked there saw me looking inside and then gave me all the leftover pastries from the window.” 

“For free!?” Jek exclaimed as he shuffled back towards the box, “What did you get? Did you get an eclair? Please tell me you got an eclair.” Toast nodded and handed his brother one, who promptly dug in. 

“What’s this about eclairs?” Stone rounded the corner, instantly noticing the box and saddling up to him. “Did you get sweets?” 

Toast spent the next few minutes divvying up the various pastries between everyone. He chose something made up of many thin layers of dough, filled with chopped nuts and soaked in honey. Baklava, he thinks it was called, or maybe balaclava? He didn’t know the difference. But he didn’t care as he devoured it, savoring each bite like it was something precious. He glanced around and saw all his brothers were experiencing similar states of bliss, if their expressions were anything to go by. 

~~~

He didn’t have a chance to visit the bakery for the next two weeks, too busy running around dealing with mess after mess. One day, a prison riot. The next, bomb threats at the senate. Everyone in the guard was so exhausted and in desperate need of a break. So when Hound mentioned he was taking Grizzer for a walk, Toast decided to tag along so that he could get some fresh air. Well, fresh for Coruscant. 

At some point they’d run into Rhys and Thire, on the way back from patrol duty. Neither of them were in a rush to get back to HQ to receive new marching orders, so they ended up tagging along. 

Their little group wandered the streets, just walking with no direction in mind. Grizzer had his snout pressed close to the ground, desperate to sniff everything. Toast smiled at the massiff’s antics from behind his bucket, before glancing around and realizing they were just a block away from the bakery. 

“Hey, guys. Wanna stop at that bakery? It’s just over there.” Toast asked, pointing his finger at the little awning in front of the shop.

Thire looked at him as if he had two heads. “Why? Do you think we’ll get handouts again? Not that I’m complaining, free is free, but didn’t you get those because it was the end of the day and she was planning on throwing them out? It’s the middle of the day now…”

“Well, she said I could come back whenever. And that I could bring you guys too.” Toast felt his cheeks heat up for some reason, suddenly feeling embarrassed. What if she was just being polite, and he wasn’t really supposed to come back? What if he brought too many of his brothers and she thought he was taking advantage of her generosity? 

He was just about to suggest they should move on when Rhys piped up. “Well, what are we waiting for? C’mon.” He was already halfway to the bakery before anyone could respond. Rhys had a major sweet tooth and nothing motivated him more than some sweets. Hound and Grizzer were right on his heels, having missed out on the pastries last time. 

Toast caught up to them quickly, with Thire right behind them, though they all froze as soon as they made it up to the doors. There were people inside this, lounging around sipping drinks and chatting. Could they go in? Would people get mad? 

All his vode were waiting for him to do something, and his eyes searched frantically around the storefront as if he would find an answer there. And, surprisingly, he did. Sort of. Because hanging right in the window was a sign that read ‘CLONES WELCOME’. You had to have hung it after your interaction, there was no other explanation. Something about that made his heart race. 

All of a sudden, you appeared in the window, a friendly grin on your face as you pointed at the sign and waved for them all to come in. 

“You didn’t tell us she was pretty, vod,” Thire whispered as they shuffled their way inside. Toast could just feel the shit eating grin from under his brother’s bucket. He just gave a noncommittal grunt as a response, which only made Thire laugh. 

The group of them stood awkwardly in the threshold of the store, not really knowing what to do with themselves. A few patrons looked over to see what was going on, and Toast braced for some sort of outrage at clones invading their space, but after a few seconds they all turned back to whatever they were doing before. 

Toast stood there dumbly, just staring at you. He hadn’t really been able to take a good look at you the last time, too distracted by how strange the whole situation had been. But now he could see that Thire was right. You are pretty. Very pretty. 

If you noticed how tongue-tied he was, you didn’t show it. You just greeted them with another smile and oh Maker that smile. It was the kind of smile that lit up your whole face and Toast wanted to see it every day for the rest of his life.

“Hi! Is this your first time here?” You asked, cocking your head to one side. 

“He’s been here before.” Hound answered, shoving Toast to the front of the group. 

“Oh, are you the one from a few weeks ago? Toast?” 

You remembered his name! He was pretty sure he was about to melt into a puddle right then and there. It took a second to realize that he hadn't answered yet and he quickly sputtered out, “Y-yeah. That’s me.” 

“I’m glad you came back! And you brought your brothers,” You turned to address the rest of the clones and offered out a hand, “It’s nice to meet you all, what are your names.” 

Hound, always the people person and the one most used to interacting with the public, stepped forward and shook your hand. “I’m Hound. That’s Thire and Jek. It’s nice to meet you ma’am, I’ve heard you’re a great baker, though I wouldn’t know first-hand.” 

You cocked an eyebrow at Toast, “You didn’t share?” 

“He was out on patrol, I swear!” Toast stammered, holding his hands up in front of him. 

“Hmmm, I guess I’ll take your word for it. Though I think he should get to pick out what he wants first. It’s only fair.” 

“Really?!” Hound exclaimed. His enthusiasm seemed to rub off on Grizzer, the massiff sitting up on his back legs and wiggling excitedly before letting out a happy bark. “Down boy,” Hound ordered, placing a hand on Grizzer’s hand to calm him down. 

‘Awe, he’s just excited,” you giggled as you bent down to give him some pats of your own. “Can he eat treats? I have some by the door that I give to some of the other dogs.” You asked Hound as you straightened back up. 

“Yes, he loves treats. Would you mind if I took them to go? I don’t want him spoiling his dinner.” 

“Of course! Now pick out what you all want. And you can put a box together to take to your brothers.” 

You spent the next twenty minutes helping them pick out pastries, answering questions so they could pick out something for each of their brothers. After they had made their selections, you sat with them at one of the tables and chatted. Well, you mostly asked questions and they all talked over each other in their excitement. Still, you enjoyed the time with them, happy to provide a place for them to relax and unwind. Their jobs seemed incredibly stressful and by reading in between the lines of some of the things they told you, they seemed to be mistreated by a good portion of the senators, made to run menial errands or be the punching bags senators took their frustrations out on. You could especially see it in Toast, in the way he was so scared of offending you, how he would avert his eyes all the time and flinch if someone spoke too loudly. It honestly made you want to burn down the senate building. 

Everyone had finished eating when Thire looked down at his wrist and exclaimed, “Oh kriff, it’s been over an hour! Fox is gonna kill us.” 

Toast scoffed. “Correction: Fox is going to kill you and Rhys. Hound and I are off right now.” 

“Bring him an extra tiramisu to smooth things over.” You said, already wrapping one up and adding it to the rest of their haul. 

The group scrambled around, putting their buckets back on and grabbing the various pastry boxes you’d filled for them. Toast paused before turning to you. “Um, we don’t have any credits on us right now, but I can bring some tomorrow. The Guard has a small discretionary fund we can-”

You stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

“A-are you sure? That was a lot of food…” Toast didn’t want her to lose money because of him. After all, he was the one that brought his brothers here. 

“It’s okay, seriously. I actually started a little program where customers can buy a coffee or a pastry or whatever for a clone. There’s actually a little bucket next to the register that I set up,” you turned and pointed at it so he could see. “It was actually my employee Vella’s idea. She came up with it the day after we first met, and it’s been pretty popular. There are a lot of people out there who are really thankful for what you guys do, you know.” 

Toast didn’t know what to say, but he felt like he wanted to cry at such a nice gesture. “That is… really kind of you. Thanks.” It didn’t feel like nearly enough, but they were the only words Toast could form at the moment. 

“Of course,” you said, giving his shoulder a little squeeze. “Now go catch up with your brothers, and let the rest of them know they’re always welcome to a free drink or pastry here.” 

Toast thanked you once again before heading outside to where his brothers were waiting, trying to convince himself that your hand hadn’t lingered on his arm for a beat too long. No, it was just wishful thinking. 

As he and his vode made their way back to the barracks, Rhys threw an arm around his neck and said, “Wow, Toast, your girlfriend is the best!” earning him snickers from the rest of the group. 

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Toast tried to protest. 

“But you want her to be~” Hound teased. And he was right, Toast wanted that more than anything in the galaxy right now. But he knew it was impossible. You were beautiful and kind and funny and perfect and he... was just a clone. 

“It’s not like it could ever happen anyway,” Toast sighed. 

Thire nudged him with his shoulder. “Psssh, we all saw how her hand lingered on you. She definitely likes you.” 

“Definitely,” Rhys echoed. 

Toast smiled under his bucket. It might be a pipe dream, but in that moment he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy. 

~~~

In the following weeks, you fell into a sort of routine. Toast would stop by your bakery at least once a week, sometimes more depending on his free time. And you cherished every moment you got to spend with him. Sometimes he would bring fellow members of the guard along, and every visit ended with your stomach cramping from how much you’d laughed at their various antics. You were confused how such a chaotic bunch of individuals were able to come together as an effective police force… that is until you met Commander Fox. His talent for wrangling them deserved a medal in your opinion. 

As much as you enjoyed his brothers, you really looked forward to the times where you and Toast were alone together. He’d always come to you with some wild story of an eccentric prisoner or a crazy heist perpetrated in the lower levels. Honestly you hadn’t expected him to be such a gossip, but you were hardly complaining. 

In return for his stories you started teaching him how to bake. It started off with him just watching you work as he talked, sometimes asking questions about what you were doing or peaking over your shoulder to get a closer look. Eventually he became an assistant of sorts, spending his time grabbing ingredients for you and washing the dishes once you were done with them. 

Today was the day you were going to convince him to bake a loaf of bread with you. You were going to start him off with a simple loaf of white bread, one that didn’t require much kneading and didn’t have a long proving time. You had already pulled out all the ingredients, bowls, and utensils and were waiting patiently for him to arrive. 

By the time you heard the bell ring and saw him coming through the door, you were tapping your foot in anticipation. He wasn’t late - in fact he was right on time as always - but you were just itching to see him. 

“Toast! You’re here!” Ugh, that was the best greeting you could come up with? you cringed internally. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind your banal greeting, a smile on his lips as he pulled his bucket over his head and placed it on a nearby shelf. You found yourself longing for a reality where he greeted you with a peck on the lips along with that sweet smile. Maker, you had it bad for him. 

His eyes flashed over to the ingredients on the counter. “What are you making today?”

“I’m not making anything today. But we are. I think it's time for you to try your hand at baking. And in honor of your love of toast, we’re starting off with bread.” 

He rolled his eyes at that, but the corner of his mouth still quirked up, showing off one of his dimples. “Isn’t bread kind of hard to make though? Maybe we should start out with something simpler…” 

“Where’s your courage, soldier?” you teased, poking a finger at his chest. He huffed and you laughed. “Now c’mon, wash your hands and get your apron on.” 

He ended up taking the top half of his armor off, in only his blacks from the waist up, his sleeve rolled up to his elbows. You were half thankful and half disappointed the apron covered the way his form fitting shirt stretched across his chest. At least you wouldn’t be distracted, but boy oh boy did you want a closer look. 

The two of you chatted about your days as you started working on each of your loaves. With so few ingredients the process went quick, and soon enough you were kneading the dough. 

“Now this is called the slap and fold technique. First get your dough together in a ball like this… and then you slap it down!” You demonstrated by taking your lump of wet dough and slapping it down on the table. “Then you just fold it in half and repeat. We need to do it for about five minutes.” 

“I think you mean we knead to do it for five minutes,” Toast said with a cheeky grin.

“Blegh. Terrible.” You flicked a bit of flour at him as punishment. “I think you knead to be locked up for that pun.” Toast just laughed and continued working, the smile on his face never dropping. 

Once you were ready, you shaped both of the loaves and put them in the oven. When you turned back to him you couldn’t help but giggle. He was absolutely covered in flour. 

“What? Do I have something on my face?” He asked, face suddenly becoming serious. 

You stepped close to him and brushed his face clean with your thumb. “On your face, in your hair, on your shirt. I think you managed to get flour everywhere except the apron.”

“Well you were the one throwing it at me!” came his retort as he used his hands to shake his hair out, turning it from  grey back to its lovely dark color. 

“Touché. Now let me help you get cleaned up. I think you got some on your back. Somehow.” You grabbed a washcloth and wet it under the sink and started using it to wipe the flour off his clothes.  

“It’s one of my many skills from cadet training.” He told you, eyes twinkling, as you dabbed at a spot you missed on his face. You could feel his lips moving as he spoke. Stop thinking about how soft they probably are, you chided yourself. 

“You’re just lucky you’re so charming.” 

That made him blush and avert his eyes, which would have been cute if you weren’t worried you’d gone a bit too far. You didn’t want to embarrass him or anything. You had thought the two of you were flirting, but maybe you read the situation wrong. You were notoriously bad in the romance department, something Vella had told you after the third time you had missed a customer trying to flirt with you. 

Toast cleared his throat before turning back to you. He noticed you’d stepped back away from him and sighed internally. That would have been the perfect time to kiss you or ask you out or something. Anything other than dancing around each other like you two were doing now. Despite the fact that his brothers believed you two were already together - no matter how much he protested - he still wasn’t sure if you felt the same as he did. He had his suspicions, but what if he was wrong? You were his only friend outside of his brothers and he didn’t want to do anything to mess that up or make it awkward. 

He thanked the Maker you didn’t tease him, just turning and starting to wash the dishes. He grabbed a bowl and joined you at the big industrial sink, dunking his hands in the warm sudsy mixture and used the sponge to start scrubbing at the stubborn bits of dough that refused to come off. The two of you worked in silence, though not an uncomfortable one, Toast was glad to find. Just as he was finishing drying the last bowl, he remembered something. 

“Oh, uh, I almost forgot. Do you know Senator Amidala?” 

“Not personally, but I’ve heard of her.”

“Well, she is throwing a banquet or something in a few days and the bakery that was supposed to handle the desserts fell through at the last minute. Thorn suggested you as a replacement and asked me to ask you if it was possible.” 

“Hmm. It depends on how long I’d have, and what kind of desserts she wants. Plus how many guests she’s having. I’m not saying no, but I’m not sure how realistic it is. It’s just me, Vella, and two others on staff.” You had started pacing, already running the logistics through your head.

“What if me and the rest of the guard helped you?” 

You paused your pacing to look at him. “That could work… but would you all even be able to take off work?”

“Well, it’s been pretty slow this week and we’re spending most of our time getting ready for the party…” You responded with a noncommittal hum so he pressed on. “How about I call Senator Amidala and Commander Fox on the coms and we can get everything worked out?”

“Yeah, sure. That’d be great.” 

For the next twenty minutes you hashed out the details with Senator Amidala - Padmé, she insisted you call her - and Commander Fox. Eventually you settled on an order of one large, four-tiered cake and a hundred little fruit tarts. Fox had been hesitant to lend out his troopers until Padmé had offered to replace the old coffee machine in the guard’s office. The party was in three days, so it would be a tight deadline, but you were sure you could do it. Especially with the guard’s help. There was also the motivating factor of the hefty payment Padmé was offering. It would be enough for you to buy an army of cleaning robots!

As soon as you hung up you were already placing an order of the ingredients and messaging your employees to tell them about the job. You were so focused on your task that you jumped with the oven’s timer dinged. Toast stifled a chuckle behind his hand and you shot him a look as you pulled both loaves of bread out of the oven. Both loaves were a perfect golden brown and looked absolutely delicious. 

Toast hovered over your shoulder as you placed the bread on the cooling rack, and you had to slap his hand away a few times as you waited for them to cool. Once you could hold them safely in your hands, you handed Toast his loaf and took yours in your hands. “C’mon, let’s take a picture together with our bread.” You tucked yourself into his side and held your loaf up as he snapped the picture. 

Once you were satisfied with the picture you relented to his puppy-dog eyes and cut into the bread. You both slathered a piece in butter and tapped them together as if they were wine glasses before taking a bite. 

“Mmmmmhhh,” you both groaned in unison at the first bite of warm bread. There was nothing better. 

“This is so good.” You mumbled in between bites. 

“So much better than anything in the caf.” Toast agreed, his eyes half-closed in bliss. Before you missed it, you snapped a picture. Toast with his toast. It was perfect. 

~~~

You stared at the sight of the twenty clone troopers in front of you, decked out in aprons and hair nets, standing at parade rest in a line as Commander Fox, also in an apron, paced back and forth, hands behind his back, as he gave them their orders. 

“Now I want you all on your best behavior. It may seem like you’re on a break, but I want you to treat this as if you’re still on the clock,” He stopped pacing and turned to his men, “Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes, sir!” They all responded with a salute. 

You took that moment to snap a picture of them all, Fox’s head snapping towards you at the click of the camera. “I want to remember this,” you told him, fighting back a smile. 

You turned to Padmé, who had insisted on coming to help out herself, bringing along her two droids and a Jedi to offer some extra hands. She came complete with a chic outfit for the occasion and you envied how good she looked at six in the morning. You showed her the picture and she asked, “Can you send that to me?” Fox huffed loudly and the two of you broke out into a fit of giggles. 

Once you got a hold of yourself you started listing out tasks that needed to be done to Fox. “We’ll need people to clean and cut the fruit for the tarts. Another group can help with mixing and cutting the crust. For the cake, we’ll also need one group handling the batter, and another the frosting and decorations. And we can rotate who is on dish duty.” 

Fox immediately started delegating out tasks to his troops and you assigned a member of your staff to help each group. Everyone quickly scrambled to start working on their tasks, the troopers clearly very excited to help. 

Throughout the day you flitted from group to group, demonstrating how to do things when needed. Your employees were handling everything so well and you made a reminder to yourself to give them a nice bonus after this. You stepped away from where Vella was showing the boys how to make flowers out of frosting and found Toast lecturing his brothers about the right way to measure flour. 

“You can’t just scoop it out straight from the bag, you’ll use too much that way. You have to sift it in like this,” He started demonstrating the proper technique for them, and you noticed he had somehow managed to get flour all over himself again. 

“Good job, Toast,” You said as you passed him, brushing the flour out of his hair as you went. “Keep up the great work, boys!” You gave them a thumbs up and moved onto the next group, dodging the R2 unit as it made a beeline to the fridge, a tray of freshly cut fruit balanced on its head. 

The next two days passed by smoother than you could have hoped. There were only a few minor incidents. Hound tripping over R2 and spilling some batter, Thorn having to scold Jek and Rhys for eating half of their frosting. Nothing you couldn't handle. Commander Fox had everyone working like a well oiled machine, making sure everything stayed on time. Throughout both days, Padmé’s protocol droid busied himself with taking pictures of the event, and Padmé promised to send them all to you after the party.

It got down to the wire, but you managed to put the last slice of jogan fruit on the hundredth tart with forty-five minutes to spare. Your employees handled loading everything up into the speeder to take them to the venue. You watched them out of the corner of your eye to make sure things went smoothly. Padmé came up to you and thanked you profusely for rushing such a huge order and promised to promote your business to all her friends before she and the rest of her entourage hopped into the speeder with your employees and took off for the party. 

You turned back to the clone troopers, who had already finished washing up most of the kitchen. “Don’t worry about the rest, guys, I’ve got it. You should probably start heading back and start getting ready.” 

“Trying to kick us out so soon?” Fox mused. 

You laughed. “Actually, before you go, I have a little surprise for you all. As a way to say thank you and as a pick me up before the party. I know those things can be tiring.” You went and retrieved the gift you had stayed up all last night working on, keeping it behind your back until you were right in front of them. 

You held out a plate of cookies shaped like their helmets, each one customized to look like the helmet of each of the troopers there. You had recruited C3-PO to take reference pictures of all of their helmets while they were working, and the droid had really pulled through for you, even managing to get detail shots for you. 

“Woah, are these our helmets?” Stone asked as you handed him his cookie. 

“Look, it’s me.” Thorn said to Fox as he waggled his cookie in front of his brother’s face. Fox rolled his eyes but even he couldn’t fight his smile away. 

You beamed as each of the troopers examined their cookies and thanked you for them. They all groaned as you forced them to get together for one last picture and the shutter had barely flashed before they were scarfing down the cookies. 

Once they were done, Fox and Thorn started hoarding the group through the door. Before Toast could follow his brothers, Fox turned to him, “You stay here and help out with the rest of the clean up.” 

Toast blinked for a moment before he responded with a “Yes, sir.” 

He waited until he was sure the last of his vode were out the door before he turned to you. He planned on saying something funny or romantic, but all his words failed him as you launched yourself at him and pulled him into a big hug. “Thanks for all your help. I couldn’t have done this without you.” You told him, your voice muffled from your spot pressed against his chest. He returned the hug and rested his cheek against the top of your head. 

You couldn’t be sure if it was him who tilted his head down or you who tilted your head up, but you soon found yourselves nose to nose. Maybe sleep deprivation lowered your inhibitions, because you soon found yourself raising up on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his. His arms tightened around you as he returned the kiss, letting out a groan as you both melted into each other. It started off sweet and gentle, but quickly developed into something more heated as you swept your tongue across the seam of his lips. He let out another tortured whine as he opened his mouth up to you, pulling you flush against him with one hand falling down to grab your ass while the other hitched your leg over his hip. 

Eventually you needed to come up for air and reluctantly parted from him, a blush rising to your cheeks as the string of saliva that connected you broke and dribbled down your chin. He wiped it away with his thumb before bringing his forehead to rest against yours. The two of you stayed like that for a while, gazing into each other's eyes as you caught your breath. 

You brought up one of your hands to brush a bit of flour out of his eyebrow. “You managed to get flour on you somehow. I don’t think we even used flour today.” 

He grinned at you. “It’s one of my many charms.” 

You giggled and pulled him back in for another kiss. Your lips had just met when you heard a camera shutter go off and you both whipped your heads around to the source of the noise. 

Vella stood in the doorway to the kitchen, camera raised and a shit-eating grin on her face. “Haha, I knew it! Thire owes me ten credits!” 

Both of you blinked at each other for a moment before joining in with her laughter.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Death Threats

Summary: What if the people threatening Barba went after you, too?  

Warnings: Angst. Injury. Fluff. (I realized the timing puts this in the episode Heartfelt Passages, so that was a busy day for poor Rafi.)

Dedicated to @teamsladsandgents​ for inspiring me to get stabby.

2,256 words

You thought he punched you, the man in the elevator. It wasn’t until the doors chimed open and he was striding quickly but casually from the building that you realized you were bleeding.

The inch-wide slit in your shirt took a moment to start bleeding in earnest as you stood in shock, time frozen along with your body. Then thick, dark amounts of it began streaming through your fingers.

The elevator doors were sliding shut before you thought to stumble out with your last ounce of strength—to scream for help—before your body sank to the ground, leaving you alone in your metal coffin. You tried to sit up again, but it hurt and made more blood come out.

You couldn’t reach the elevator buttons.

You were so tired.

The funny thing was, you weren’t afraid. Just disappointed. You always thought you’d turn into an action hero if you were attacked—that adrenaline would awaken some ferocious, hitherto unseen warrior within, like Jason Bourne.

But it all happened so fast.

It was over before you noticed a blade in his hand. Over before you processed that he had said something to you, just before that dull punch in your gut.

“That ADA you’re fucking sticks his nose in the wrong people’s business.”

It was strange that you weren’t thinking about your mom or your best friend of ten years. As you pressed as hard as you could to stem the bleeding, you didn’t see your whole life flash before your eyes. The only thing on your mind was your boyfriend of the last several months, the sarcastic lawyer who kept so many walls up, and the petty argument you got into earlier about his canceling lunch plans again.

None of it seemed real. Didn’t seem like the way the story of your life ought to end—bleeding out in an elevator.

It was getting hard to concentrate on what to do next.

OK. The buttons wouldn’t work. Too far to reach.

No one can hear you scream.

Phone.

Your phone was in your pocket, but you had to take one of your hands off of clamping your gut to reach it. Blood streamed through your fingers—so much blood from such a small hole. Your hand was too slick with it and shaking to grab hold of the phone. If you could get it, you could call 911.

“Work, you fucking hand,” you thought. You thought that was an undignified last thought. It should be something profound. Poetic.

But no. Your last thought was going to be swearing at a Samsung.

Tired.

You never remembered if you managed to get the phone from your pocket or not. It didn’t matter anymore.

The last thing you remembered thinking about was Rafael finding out you were gone, his eyes red from mourning. Blaming himself. You wished you could tell him… If you died, you wouldn’t be there to cup his cheek, to make him smile again. To tell him what you whispered to the dark elevator, alone.

“It’s not your fault, Rafi.”

***

The man’s name was Felipe Heredio, a lieutenant of the BX9 street gang. There was already a warrant out for his arrest when he stabbed you. ADA Rafael Barba identified him in a lineup as the man who was stalking him only an hour after a neighbor found you lying in a pool of blood. The fact that he was already in police custody might have been relieving to you if you were conscious. You might have felt proud that it was Barba who ensured he was arrested.

And your heart might have broken when Barba’s phone rang, and his entire world stopped.

***

Rafael’s eyes were red from crying when you woke up with oxygen tubes in your nose, and your hand cradled in his. Your throat hurt more than anything else, oddly, which you would later learn was from being intubated for surgery.

The first word you croaked upon regaining consciousness was, “Sorry.”

A collection of empty coffee cups was scattered around the feet of his chair so he could stand vigil for however long you had been out. His eyes were not only red and wet, but bulging with that jittery, over-tired, caffeine anxiety.

You knew how busy Rafael was. That it was a weekday (technically, it was already tomorrow), and he’d have court in the morning. What you didn’t know, because he didn’t want to weigh you down with his world, was that Barba had already mourned one death today, and that one more loss might break him.

You were sorry for causing him so much trouble.

Rafael was having none of it, of course. He tried to keep his voice from shaking when he told you, “Why in god’s name would you be sorry?” followed by barking, “Stop that—don’t try to sit up. Nurse!”

His bedside manner was well and truly atrocious.

The next hour was a dizzying blur of nurses checking your vitals and helping you use the bathroom, then answering a uniformed officer whose questions you could barely understand through the morphine haze.

When it became clear what had happened and why, Rafael became unusually quiet. All of his follow-up questions and complaints of, “is this really necessary? Can’t you do this later?” fell away. He slumped in the visitor’s chair beside your bed, his hand still holding yours, but in pensive silence until the officer finished, leaving you alone except for the security detail at the door.

Then the apologies came. The heavy confessions that he’d been receiving threats for a year, and this was all, all his fault. Admittedly, if it weren’t for the morphine drip dulling everything, you might have been pissed off that he knew this might happen and kept it to himself. He kept so much to himself, you had to read about his cases online to know what was going on in his life. But his face—which you always thought babyish, with his smooth cheeks and lips ever-ready to flash a sarcastic smirk—was drawn, making him look old and haggard. He was too serious, too raw to possibly blame him.

“I’m so sorry for putting you in danger. I never should have gotten you involved in this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is,” he choked. “I’ve been getting threats since I indicted those cops, and I haven’t exactly been on… anyone’s good side. I should never have started dating you.”

Like a slap in the face, that sting made it through the morphine. You jerked your hand out of his.

“That came out wrong. It’s true, though. I was selfish to think I could…” He gave a melancholy sigh as he sank back in the chair. “It will be safer if we keep our distance from now on. This will never happen to you again.”

You never imagined you could get stabbed and have your heart broken on the same day, or that the latter would hurt worse.

“Then what are you even doing here?!”

“I had to know you were OK. But as long as I’m getting death threats—”

“Wait, wait. You’re saying you’d rather give up being with me than give up a legal battle with powerful enemies?”

His eyes widened and he stared like a deer in the headlights, only where the deer was an insensitive workaholic, and the headlights were the blinding rays of truth. It wasn’t even a surprise that he hadn’t thought of it that way—this was every fight he’d had with an ex just before they broke up with him.

“I, uh—”

You grabbed his face and dragged him down into the softest kiss, which was not what he was expecting. He almost yelped (though it melted into a whine) when his fiery hot, coffee-flavored lips hit your cool ones. When he pulled back, lips wet and parted, his brow furrowed in confusion over still-widened eyes.

“You are… the sweetest.” Your hand lingered on his cheek as you gave a doped-up-on-painkillers smile. “The most selfless, noble… bravest… amazing man I have ever met. I love you so much.”

“I… what?”

“Rafael”—your thumb lazily stroked his cheek—“I know how much you care about me. Even though you’re married to your job and it’s frustrating as hell sometimes, I’ve never been insecure that you don’t love me enough. I know you never tell me about your cases because you want me to be able to sleep at night. You worry about me too much. And you always look so nervous whenever I leave, like you think I’m never coming back this time.

“So the fact that you would sacrifice your own happiness before you’d let an injustice go unanswered… that’s incredible. You do nothing but give a voice to the voiceless all day, working yourself to the bone without considering the cost to your personal life. You’re like a superhero, ADA Barba.”

A short breath of a laugh escaped his lips as his hand came up to the side of his face to cover yours. His eyes were watery, and he looked like he was about to break down again as he bitterly whispered, “A superhero who almost got you killed.”

“I’m not leaving you, you know.”

“Cariño. If anything happened to you, I couldn’t—couldn’t…”

“Nothing’s going to happen. It’ll be OK. I’m not leaving you alone.”

A tear wavered precariously close to the rim of his eyelid until he turned away, rubbing his face. It was gone when he turned back. “You could have died because of my fucking work! I’ve never given you the time you deserve. How do you still want to be around me?”

“Hey, someone has to be there to protect you when you get yourself in trouble,” you grinned.

Rafael Barba couldn’t take any more. He bent over the hospital bed and wrapped his arms around you, doing his best not to snag any of the many tubes coming out of you or put any weight on anything below your diaphragm, but hugging you to him as tightly as he could. You felt his trembling breathing in your hair, and hot wet spots pooling on your neck.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Your free arm closed over his back, stroking his broad, tense muscles through his shirt. “I’m really glad I didn’t die,” you whispered, finally allowing yourself to feel scared now that he was here. “I didn’t want to die yet. Not like that.”

“I’m sorry.” He breathed in, and his arms tightened protectively. “You have no idea how terrified I was. I’m so sorry…”

“Shh,” you whispered. You clung to him, soothed by his familiar cedar and citrus scent, fainter now after a long, harrowing day, mixed with the masculine smell of sweat.

“I’m glad you’re alive, too. I can’t lose you. I can’t. I love you more than anything.”

Soon—too soon, because you wanted to continue talking—you drifted to sleep in his arms. And once again too soon, you woke up with your entire abdomen on fire, and nurses bringing you pain medication. Rafael was still there, half asleep next to you in the narrow bed.

He didn’t leave you.

Even if it put you in danger, he would rather be beside you, making sure you were OK than cutting you out of his life and hoping the bad guys got the memo. He couldn’t put you through that pain, even if he could do it to himself. Especially when you pondered aloud to him whether you’d survived because you were thinking about him—that you refused to die before seeing him again, knowing what a wreck he would be.

Recovery was long, and interspersed with doing nothing but fall asleep when you’d rather stay awake, and not being able to sleep at all. Rafael (and his security detail) moved into your apartment when you were released from the hospital so he could take care of you—as grumpy and bossy and sarcastic as his bedside manner might be.

You swore you were going to sign up for Krav Maga or Cobra Kai or something once you could exercise again, since apparently you were not a secret knife-fighting ninja deep down. Next time, you wanted to be a badass who could fight back, and never let anyone harm your overzealous ADA when he kicked the hornet’s nest.

Eventually, you would convince him that it wasn’t his fault that bad guys had acted like bad guys. And he would convince you that taking care of you wasn’t a burden—that the emergency time off from work was worth it. He started replacing “sorry” with “I love you.”

In the end, while you wouldn’t say being stabbed was a good thing, or that you’d choose to be stabbed again if you had the option, it did ensure Heredio was put away for a long, long time. It left you with a cool scar, and a new catchphrase for expressing your displeasure—“I’d rather be stabbed again than do the dishes!”

Fine, it also left you jumpy and made your chest tight whenever you found yourself alone in an elevator.

But most importantly, it brought down the walls Rafael had been keeping up around himself. He talked to you more. You talked to each other more. And he remembered to—on occasion—take time out of his heroic, selfless life of battling injustice, and selfishly spend it with you.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

@beccabarba / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @delia26 / @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes / @storiesofsvu​

[doctenwho]

Hardy’s Cure for Sadness

Hello! Sorry this took a while, I couldn’t figure out for the life of me how to start it! I loved the request, and it was so fun to write when I figured out where I was taking it! Thanks for the request! :D

I’m glad you like my work! I hope you like this one too!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,270

Summary: Check the prompt above!

(Gif doesn’t belong to me! Credit to the creator!)

The day had been long. You’d known when you got the job that it would be long hours and lots of dutiful work, but you’d never really thought a workplace could work you as ragged as the Wessex Police station did. You weren’t even an officer, instead a receptionist, which was quite possibly more work than being an actual officer.

Not only did you have to deal with moody citizens filing reports and asking to speak with officers, or detectives, but you also had to deal with the moody officer's upstairs who were always irritated when you phoned up for someone. They were always frustrated with you for disturbing them, when you were really just the middle man.

Then there was dealing with the media, and attempting to console people who came in upset, or angry. There was being the person who’s calls got ignored upstairs when people were busy, and you were left with antsy citizens.

And you understood it all, you couldn’t even imagine being an officer and have to deal with the gruesome parts of the job, like Danny Latimer’s murder for example.

You really couldn’t win being a receptionist at the station.

The officers barely noticed you, let alone spoke to you. A few did, a pleasant few, like Ellie Miller, who was friendly and cheerful with everyone, but the majority of the office barely glanced your way unless they needed something from you.  

It was tiring to say the least.  

You leaned back in your chair, glancing around briefly for anyone who may need you, before letting your head fall back against the office chair and rubbing at your tired eyes.  

It was just one of those days where you felt sad, but didn’t know why. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it hit you like freight truck. It wasn’t even that you were sad about anything in general—just... blah. The kind of feeling you had where you wanted nothing more than to leave the office and tuck yourself into bed at home.  

And honestly, being stuck in the office really didn’t help those feelings.  

You gave a tired sigh, pulling yourself back towards the desk and returning your aching eyes to the screen of documents you were going over before they could be sent up to be looked over by one of the officers. A glorified proof reader is what the guys upstairs thought you were.  

It wasn’t even in your job description, but you were too nice to turn them away, and one always turned into two, and then three, and before you knew it, you were elbow deep in documents.  

You didn’t hate your job here. Everyone was nice most of the time, and as much as you liked to complain, you had it pretty good. The pay was good, and it was worth it to stick around for the few people upstairs who respected you and held friendly conversation whenever you were around.  

Plus, you always got to use the break room upstairs and take free coffee, or tea to have at your desk downstairs.  

It had its share of pros and cons like any other occupation; some days were just harder than others. And for no reason. Nothing prompted your sadness today, it was just what it was.  

It was getting quite late in the evening. You couldn’t really leave until the officers upstairs did, since you and your fellow receptionists were usually first to arrive, and last to leave. The three receptionists who swap out, the Chief Superintendents, the Detective Chief Inspector and the Detective Inspector were the only ones to have keys to the building.  

It was both a blessing and a curse. You didn’t have to wait in your car for the building to be unlocked when you arrived early, but then again, at the end of the night when all the higher ups left at their usually time, but others were still busy with cases, you couldn’t leave until they did.  

Thankfully though, it was usually DI Hardy and DS Miller who stayed later, so you could leave, so long as DI Hardy was around. He was usually good about staying behind late and locking up when he left (if he did leave for the night).

He’d been nothing but nice to you since he’d arrived. And that was a change of pace, since most of the higher ups tended to just breeze passed the reception desk to get to work. DI Hardy had been pleasant to you, at least in his own gruff kind of way.  

But still, how most of the building talks about him, you’d never have imagined him to be as nice as he was to you. He usually stopped by for conversation, thought it was a bit awkward at times. You thought it was endearing though, since he always looked nervous, but still put in the effort to talk with you when he had the time.  

Less could be said about anyone ranked higher than DI Hardy. The officers were usually friendly enough as they passed by, throwing quick greetings and friendly waves over their shoulders, but it was refreshing that Hardy too the time to check in from time to time. Especially since no one else considered a boss ever did.

You focused back onto your screen, eyes straying tiredly to anything that wasn’t bright and blinding in the evening hours. You liked to keep track of who came and went every day. You knew each member of staff by heart, so you could always keep track of when people were leaving.  

If you were correct, that meant it was just Ellie and DI Hardy working away.  

So, technically you could leave, but you did have more work to finish up before tomorrow, and you’d rather get it done now, instead of coming in early tomorrow to complete it.  

You continued on, fingers flying over the keyboard with practiced ease.  

You didn’t bother looking up from your document until Ellie appeared before you, smile bright, but tired. “You’re still here?” she asked kindly.

“Just finishing up,” you told her, hoping you’d returned the smile, “is DI Hardy still in the building?”

“He is,” Ellie gave a grimace, “sittin’ in his office staring at the files of Danny Latimer’s case.” She gave a tired sigh, rubbing her eyes. You knew the thought of the case exhausted anyone involved, Ellie and Hardy probably the most of anyone, since the two of them had been the most dedicated in getting justice for Danny. “You can leave now, if it was us who you were waiting for. Hardy will lock up when he’s on his way, that is if he even leaves.”

“That’s alright,” you gave her a small smile, “I’ve still got some work to finish up before I can head out.”

“Alright, well,” Ellie gave you another bright smile, “I’ll be off then, my boys are waiting for me.”

“Have a good night, Ellie,” you gave her a small wave as she moved towards the doors.  

“You too,” Ellie grinned, “don’t let Hardy keep you here too late, alright?”

You returned a good-natured laugh as Ellie finally stepped out into the cool evening outside the office. You watched her retreating form for a moment, before it disappeared from sight, and you tiredly let your attention drop back to your computer screen.  

You continued on working on your documents. It was a couple hours past the time the station usually closed. It made sense that the station closed relatively early, compared to stations in bigger, urban areas. In comparison, Broadchurch had very little crimes, and it was usually petty crimes such as trespassing, theft, and occasional breaking and entering.  

You weren’t sure how long you’d been staring at your screen when Hardy finally made an appearance in the room. You’d just kind of given up on typing, and was instead just staring at the screen.  

The man looked like deer caught in the headlight of a vehicle when he finally noticed you still sat at the lobby desk. He eyed you for a moment, blinking at your slouched form before clearing his throat, “(Y/N),” he bowed his head in a greeting, “what’re you still doing here? It’s late.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you shrugged, fiddling with your fingers, “I was just finishing up a few things for tomorrow.”

The man looked you over from where he was standing across the room, eyeing your slouched position and looking all the way to your hands, which weren’t anywhere near the keyboard. You just now noticed you really didn’t look like you’d been working at all.  

How long had you been staring off into space?

“Are... are you alright?”

You blinked at the man. He was still in the exact same spot he’d been when he noticed you, but he was close enough to catch a glimpse over the tall divider protecting the computers from onlookers when they were stood at the counter.

“Yeah, of course,” you cleared your throat, you’d hoped you could’ve just hidden away, or not been noticed like how Ellie had just walked by. But Hardy seemed a bit more observant. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just... look sad.” The man frowned, then, he seemed to back track, “not that I mean anything by that... it was just... ah, never mind. You look lovely as always.”

“No, no,” you sighed, “you’re right. I’m... well, not really sad. Or, not sad for any reason, you know? Just... blah.”

“Ah,” Hardy gave a slight nod, looking towards you before looking away abruptly. “I was... just heading out to eat if you’d like to join me?” He paused, glancing at you, then looking down at back of the screen in front of you, “unless you’re still working, then disregard me.”

“You wanna go out to eat now?” you asked with a raised eyebrow. Hardy once again looked like a deer caught in the headlight, blinking nervously, “I mean, I’d love to, of course, but... isn’t everything closed?”

“The bar will be open,” the man shrugged, “I’m not much of a drinker, but there’s fairly good food there?”

“Are you sure?” you couldn’t help but ask.  

You weren’t too sure what to think of this situation. Alec Hardy had been nice to you, he had since his arrival, of course. But the most interaction the two of you’d really had was when he’d occasionally bring you a tea from the breakroom; there were glances, and nods of acknowledgment, or a rare, tiny smile as he walked past. Conversations were short and sweet, and usually in passing.  

But he’d never prompted anything like... eating out. You weren’t sure he’d suggested eating out with anyone in the office, other than maybe Ellie. And that was usually Ellie talking the man into it with her friendly hard-to-say-no-to charm. Hardy liked to keep to himself, which was why you were both unsure of the current interaction, but honored all the same.  

“Sure,” Hardy have a dip of his head, looking out at the car park where your single car remained, “wouldn’t’ve offered if I wasn’t sure.”

He paused for a second, looking around before he continued in a soft voice, “I mean, I’d like if you came with me.”

And that sealed the deal for you.  

“Alright,” you gave him a small smile. “I’d like to join you.”

You almost laughed at the surprise on Hardy’s face. It was funny as much as the look was sad. You could only imagine the previous rejection that would’ve curved that look. You couldn't understand why anyone would turn the man down—they should be happy at getting anything other than the stony, hard faced detective that was keeping Broadchurch safe.  

“Right then,” Hardy cleared his throat, “shall we then?”

“Sure,” you replied, organizing your papers for the morning just a bit before standing and rounding to the other side of the desk. “To the Trader’s Hotel then?”

“Yes,” the man pushed the door open for you, and you stepped out quickly. You watched as Hardy locked the door behind himself after he’d joined you out in the chill of the ocean air. The two of you decided quickly between walking and taking your car.  

The hotel wasn’t far, but Hardy seemed to be set on you not walking back to the station alone when the two of you were finished eating. It was a nice enough night that you’d be pushing to just stroll along, but you couldn’t deny that the thought of walking to your car with the person who killed Danny Latimer still out there, didn’t scare you.  

You’d almost forgotten that Hardy still lived at the Trader’s Hotel, just because he’s been around for weeks already, and you barely ever remembered he wasn’t a native to Broadchruch.  

The drive over to the hotel was nice. It was quiet, and there was next to no traffic since the whole of Broadchurch tended to shut down in the late evening. Neither of you said very much, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. You knew Hardy just wasn’t a talkative person, but him inviting you out to eat was nice gesture.  

Hardy led you into the hotel, taking a turn and leading you into the small bar section. Becca Fisher gave the man a nod, before noticing you following behind him. She raised a confused eyebrow, but gave you a friendly wave anyways.  

The two of you sat at a table, and Becca was quick to join you and take your orders.  

Conversation flowed relatively easily while the two of you waited for your food and drinks. Neither of you had ordered any alcohol, since you still had to drive home, and Hardy had said he wasn’t much of a drinker. You’d ordered a meal off the menu you’d had once or twice, while Hardy seemed to order a usual, since Becca didn’t even ask him what he wanted.  

The two of you talked about work. You talked of the office before Hardy’s arrival, and how much had changed since he’d come. And he told you bits and pieces of his past station and some of his memorable cases. The two of you talked about nothing relating to Danny Latimer’s case, or anything relevant happening at the station.  

“I swear,” he told you, voice light as he sipped on his water, “that was the weirdest arrest I’ve ever had to make in all my years.”

“Well, you don’t forget something like that,” you snorted a laugh into your own water. You set your glass back on the table and took another forkful of your meal, smiling widely at Hardy. “That’s hilarious.”

Becca had brought your food out quite quickly since the bar was relatively dead at this time. You dove into your food, starving after staying later than you usually did and not having eaten since lunch. Hardy wasn’t as excited to receive his food, but Ellie often complained in good fun that her boss didn’t ever eat or sleep, as far as she knew.  

He’d always seemed like a perfectly normal guy to you, just... a bit different. He was far more normal than the rest of the station thought him to be, but then again, everyone else was going off looks where you and Ellie were seeing him for more than his harsh speech and stiff mannerisms.  

Alec watched you across the table, fondly dropping his gaze whenever you looked back at him.

“What?” you could help but ask, smile small as you evened yourself after laughing at his story.

“Nothing,” he shrugged, “you have a very nice smile is all. I missed it earlier when I saw you.”

“You missed it?” you asked in surprise, furrowing your eyebrows at the man across the table, “why?”

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly, “you’ve just been a very nice person since I arrived. I know I’m not well liked, but you never really treated me any differently than you treated anyone else. I got kinda used to your smile, I guess.”

You didn’t say anything, watching him as he pushed his food around his plate more than he ate it. He looked up at you again, giving you a small smile, “it was the first thing I noticed when I met you, and the first thing I noticed wasn’t here this evening.”

You weren't sure how to respond. How was Alec Hardy this sweet, but still nicknamed ‘shit-face’ by the others in the office. Not a single other person had noticed your droopy mood. You’d been blah all day, and no one said a thing. But the first time Hardy really sees you, he’s noticed and he’s trying to cheer you up.

“No one else noticed,” you mumbled, setting your fork down on your nearly empty plate.

“They’ll all have a long time to wait before they’re observant enough to be a detective then,” Hardy said. And it almost sounded like a joke. Hardy looked towards you, giving you another tiny smile. Hardy had made a joke.  

You gave a surprised laugh, at both the joke itself, and the fact that Hardy had made a joke. You gave the man a smile, to which he returned a fond look, smiling at the smile gracing your lips.

“Are you finished eating?” Hardy asked softly, pushing his own plate away. He’d barely eaten anything, but you were not close enough to him to comment on it. Yet.

“Yeah,” you yawned, “it’s pretty late. I’m exhausted.”

“It is late,” Hardy nodded, waving Becca, who’d been watching the two of you almost the whole time you’d been sitting at the table, over for the cheque. She came over, handed him the cheque, then gathered the two plates and the glasses you’d both used for water. 

“I’m glad you could join me,” Hardy continued to speak, pocketing the cheque before you could see and pay your half, “it was far better having you here to eat with me, than eating alone.”

“I’m glad you invited me,” you gave him another small smile, “thank you for the invite, I think it was just what I needed to cheer me up. I don’t feel as sad anymore.”

“Anything to get that smile back on your face,” he replied with what you’d almost assume was an uncharacteristically sweet voice. You were starting to think he was just a big, soft teddy bear underneath all that gruff Detective Inspector, “don’t worry about paying, I’ve got a tab that Becca has added to the room.”

“Are you sure?” You frowned, almost feeling bad about Hardy paying for you. Sure, you’d come because he invited you, but you should still pay for yourself.  

“Yeh,” Hardy nodded, standing up and waiting by the table for you to stand as well, “it was my treat. I invited you. Now, you should get home. I look forward to seeing that smile of yours tomorrow.”

The man walked you out to your car, standing there until you drove away. You watched in your rearview mirror as the man turned to enter the hotel as you turned out of the parking lot. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried. This super late meal was all you really needed, and Hardy was an absolute saint for providing it.  

And if the smile on your face the following morning wasn’t as fond and bright as the evening before with Hardy, the coffee sat on your desk, made perfectly to your liking, when you walked into the office certainly would’ve made it.  

<><><><>

Hope you enjoyed! As always, feel free to prompt again if it wasn’t what you were looking for! Wasn’t sure how to go about this, but I hope it’s alright! 

[twstarchives]

Azul Ashengrotto・Voice Lines

Additional Voice Lines

Beans Camo event card

Scary Dress event card

School Uniform - R

Unlock Card “I will support you to the best of my ability, so that you may enjoy your school life here!”

Groovy “Board games are good brain exercises. Would you like to play one?”

Home Setting “Let’s make today count.”

Home Transitions “The students of this school are truly diverse in terms of personality. I’d like to have a great circle of connections.”

“Falling asleep during class is nothing for you to worry about. I will help you before your test. For a price, of course.”

“Now, for today’s board game club activities... What? Did you think ‘Boring!’ to yourself just now?”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Were you looking for me? If you’d like to discuss your troubles, I can always make arrangements for that.”

Home Taps “I pride myself on the trust my professors have in me. Above all else, I am very dedicated.”

“School friends are really just like schools of small fish. Come graduation, they all go their separate ways.”

“I heard you singing in music class just now... Heheh. No, I’m sorry; you do sound very nice.”

“I wish they’d label how many calories are in each dish in the cafeteria. It makes keeping count so difficult.”

“Is there something strange about me? I thought I studied the fashion norms on land well enough.”

PE Uniform - R

Unlock Card “I don’t necessarily hate Flying class. My broom just doesn't always cooperate with me.”

Groovy “Let’s try to work our hardest.”

Home Setting “I’m not that fond of exercising on land.”

Home Transitions “I’m not ashamed of the fact that I’m not good at sports. You have your struggles too, don’t you?”

“You only have two legs and yet you can walk that fast...? You really are good at this.”

“There’s no harm in looking like you’re trying hard. It gives off the impression that you’re committed and worthy of respect.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Flying class is almost starting. You always look like you’re having so much fun.”

Home Taps “Coach Vargas was just appalled by me again. If only I were in the water, I could... no, that would still be a problem.”

“I do a light muscle workout everyday. I also make sure to eat in moderation. It’s important to take care of your body.”

“It sounds so obvious, but floating in the water and floating in the sky really are nothing alike.”

“Sports on land make you sweat, and it’s so uncomfortable. ...Right now I’d like nothing more than to plunge into the ocean.”

“Are you trying to mock me? I’ll accept your offer as-is, but expect to have it returned it to you two-fold.”

Lab Coat - SR

Unlock Card “Please leave everything to me. Brewing potions is something I’m very confident in.”

Groovy “I’ll give you some tips for your experiments. Of course, the price would be... Heheh.”

Home Setting “I enjoy classes where the results are very clear.”

Home Transitions “I like experiments. As long as you just follow the instructions, you won’t run into any surprises.”

“There’s a full selection of rare ingredients to choose from here. What a wonderful school this is!”

“Ahh... If only you had my notes, you’d be able to finish all of those assignments in the blink of an eye... Are you interested?”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Please leave the alchemy to me. Churning out riches is one of my specialties. Of course I’m talking about the experiment.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Even the smallest speck of dust bothers me. ...Why are you looking at me like that? Please, enough with your games.”

Home Taps “Feel free to come speak with me if you ever find yourself unable to find the lab materials you need. I have my ways.”

“Your stomach hurts? I’ll steep some herbs. There’s a brew I’ve been wanting to try out.”

“I’m very particular about my writing tools... It needs to feel a certain way when I sign my papers.”

“Grim is a strange creature. ...Why don’t we try teaching him some tricks? Oh, for no particular reason.”

“You don’t need to keep coming in here; I can see just fine. These goggles have prescription lenses.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Turning one madol into a hundred is just another component of alchemy. Would you like to try?”

Ceremony Robes - SR

Unlock Card “‘Azul can make any of your wishes come true.’ ...Would you like to see whether or not these rumors are true?”

Groovy “Presentation is important for negotiations to proceed smoothly.”

Home Setting “Do you wish to hear my advice as well?”

Home Transitions “Only the wise should be the ones leading the herd. Don’t you agree?”

“I’ve come up with a plan for an event involving the Ramshackle Dorm; please take a look at it...”

“In a few moments I’ll be starting my lecture on ‘Efficient Study Methods.’ I’m grateful to say we have a full house yet again.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “The teachers hold Octavinelle students in high regard for being so well-mannered. I’m proud that our students are so exceptional.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “It’s nice to take time off like this every once in a while. ...Truthfully, I’m not at my best when there’s so much activity around me.”

Home Taps “These ceremony robes are much better than any business card. You get all kinds of wishful eyes on you just by wearing these outside the school.”

“I’m having others take care of setting up for the ceremony. My job is acting as the brains.”

“Maybe I should tighten my belt a little... I prefer having a tight figure.”

“Dark, confined spaces put me at ease. I like clothes that come with hoods.”

“You’re so loud. No one likes a lot of blabber.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Instead of an amulet, it’s better to keep your favorite coin in your pocket.”

Dorm Uniform - SSR

Unlock Card “How lucky you are to have been able to meet someone as kind as me!”

“Balancing this student life with running the Mostro Lounge is something I’m enjoying very much.”

Groovy “Welcome to Octavinelle! We’re always happy to have those like you here.”

Home Setting “If you ever need a consultant, I’d be happy to speak with you anytime.”

Home Transitions “My students become very reasonable with me the moment I put on our dorm uniform.”

“I always put on my right shoe before the left on the mornings of a battle. You could say it’s superstition... Yes, exactly that.”

“I picked out all of the furniture used in the Mostro Lounge. Isn’t the atmosphere just wonderful?”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Helping others is what I live for. As dorm leader, I’ll support every one of you as best as I can.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Should you have a wish you’d like me to grant, you’re welcome at the Mostro Lounge’s VIP Room anytime. What do you say about coming over now?”

Home Taps “Jade is a very capable assistant. I wouldn’t have chosen him as the vice dorm leader if he wasn’t.”

“They say the Sea Witch had infused a spiral shell with her own magic. Maybe I should modify the pin on my hat that way as well.”

“Floyd’s mood swings are unbearable to deal with, but I have faith in his power when the time calls for it.”

“You smell something nice? Oh, that must be my cologne. It’s one of the small pleasures I have while being on land.”

“Oh, please don’t interrupt me right now. I’m busy totaling the sales for today.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Why don’t you work a shift at the Mostro Lounge sometime? The staff meals Jade and Floyd make are simply the best.”

Duo Magic Azul: “Riddle, let’s run this exactly by our plan.” Riddle: “Azul, I’ll put my trust in you this time.”

Birthday Celebration Outfit - SSR

This card was only obtainable during Azul’s birthday event (Feb 22 - Feb 28, 2020).

Login on Birthday “I’m honored to hear that you’ve remembered my birthday. However, unfortunately I don’t accept one-way gifts... But if you insist, please come order today’s exclusive special meal at the Mostro Lounge; I will be joining you.”

Unlock Card “Those who owe me debts are welcome to come today. Let’s all enjoy the party together.”

“I would like to express my utmost gratitude to everyone who congratulated me. That is the courteous thing to do. Isn’t that right?”

Groovy “Thank you for your birthday wishes. I will make sure to show my gratitude appropriately, so please stay tuned.”

Home Setting “There is such odd—er, interesting clothing on land.”

Home Transitions “The staff at my family’s ristorante sent a group photo of them along with their gifts. I’m glad everyone is doing well.”

“A gift doesn’t have to be an object. Letting me listen to your worries is enough. Come, don’t be shy!”

“Heheh. For my birthday, I decided that I will eat as I please without worrying about the calories.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “I’m glad my birthday is here. In the business world, you’re looked down on just for being young.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “The Mostro Lounge offers a coral-themed birthday cake. You absolutely must order it for your birthday!”

Home Taps “Idia gave me a board game I’ve been interested in recently. I cannot wait to beat him when we play.”

“Every year on my birthday, Jade and Floyd pull a prank on me. Honestly, what will I do with those two...?”

“When I invited Jamil to my party, he grew suspicious and asked ‘What’s the catch?’ ...And here I only want to get along.”

“Coach Vargas saw me in this outfit and said ‘Let me give you a special flying lesson for your birthday!’ I had so much difficulty running from him.”

“You brought me food again? ...Is that your way of saying I look like I eat a lot?”

Home Tap (Groovy) “I’m always looking for business opportunities at parties, but for today alone, I think I will just enjoy myself as the star.”

Duo Magic Azul: “It’s an honor to receive a birthday wish from you, Malleus.” Malleus: “My best wishes, Ashengrotto.”

Tutorial “Lurking over there is quite rude. Come, I'll show you around.” 

Lv Up “This is just... spectacular!”

“What do you think about my brilliant progress?”

“I’m not done yet... Heheheh!”

Max Lv Up “Ahh... I can feel the power rising in me... I’d like to keep doing business with you from now on.”

Episode Lv Up “A kind soul like you might be an easy target at this academy, don’t you think? If you ever end up in a bad position, do pay me a visit. You won’t regret it.”

Magic Lv Up “My magic power has grown so advanced; I’d like to put it to good use. I would never want to let talent go to waste.”

Limit Break “More... I want more power. Do I look like the kind of man who would be satisfied with this?”

Groovy “I’m feeling good today. I think now would be your chance if you have anything you want from me.”

Lesson Select “Are you tired of your classes? I recommend thinking of it as a game of scoring points from your teachers.”

“I’m fully prepared for any class. Pick whichever one you like.”

“Depending on the price you pay... I could help you study for today’s quiz.”

Lesson Start “Let’s do our best.”

Lesson End “Were you able to see how brilliant I am?”

Battle Start “You poor, unfortunate souls!”

Battle End “Well, you certainly tried your hardest.”

Other

Profile Quote “I’d be more than happy to help you. Now, just sign this contract.”

January 2020 Trailer “If you want to cross the bridge, you’ve got to pay the toll. That’s only natural, isn’t it?”

Countdown Poster “Helping unfortunate folk like yourself—that’s what I live for.”

Login Bonus Greeting “You are surprisingly quite diligent. I, too, enjoy working so steadily.”

Player Birthday Wish “Happy birthday! Today is a special case, in that I will grant you one single wish. ...Of course this isn’t a business deal. I’m only investing in your future self.”

Easter Eggs from The Little Mermaid:

The men up there don’t like a lot of blabber

Poor Unfortunate Souls

Helping unfortunate merfolk like yourself; that’s what I live for

If you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you’ve got to pay the toll

[smallblueandloud]

some leverage: redemption reactions

i finished leverage redemption today! and i don't have anyone to talk to about it so, here we have my reactions for all eight episodes, both positive and negative. please feel free to reblog/comment -- discussions are what i'm here for! (under a cut because spoilers and also this ended up being 2k. whoops!)

EPISODE 1: the too many rembrandts job

the "aww, this guy is trying to pull his first heist! how cute" job

what they chose to do with nate was... interesting. it might just be that i read too many of those cracky "here's how they should explain nate's absence" posts, but i was expecting something funny. the grief permeating this episode -- it makes SENSE, but it was still weird. leverage doesn't usually have sadness like this. pain, yes, rage, certainly, but sadness? not usually

the way sophie immediately spots the signs of a con and slips into a character? phenomenal. i'm here for EXPERTS BEING EXPERTS and this show does NOT disappoint

harry wilson is a really solid character! most impressively, he's not flynn, which is impressive enough that i'm making a whole bullet point about it. i was worried that noah wyle was kinda a one-trick pony, but it appears not! good for him tbh

i'm LIVING for the ot3 moments in this episode. "what happened?" "we happened" YESSSSS!!! i wish we'd had more domesticity, but i know they did what they could

"he gets it from his father" FUCK!!!!!

the discussion about redemption in this episode is FANTASTIC but personally i am still delirious with excitement about "my nana leads a multi-denominational household" so expect those thoughts in 3-5 business days

EPISODE 2: the panamanian monkey job

the "flash electropop concert" job

BREANNA INTRODUCTION! i love her so MUCH, y'all. we only got to see her dynamic with hardison in this one episode, but man, it manages to be one of her best dynamics anyway. i just! i love her! i love the way the team works with her!

"in our field, you're one of the best. but there, you're the only one." god we have ELIOT/HARDISON rights and i am NOT OKAY. just!! them!!!!!! being supportive!!!!!! they have learned how to be sweet with each other! they work together so much better (in part because we're seeing them from harry's outsider pov instead of nate's insider pov, but STILL)

midway through this episode, i thought "huh, leverage always focuses on specific people, when really the problem is systematic, and pretending it's anything different is just an excuse to not fight for change". and then at the end harry talks about how the system itself is broken! i love knowing that john rogers and i were reading the same tweets last summer. it's a good feeling to trust the people making a piece of media

who let noah wyle speak spanish. whoever it was, they need to rescind their permission

god, the parker/hardison in this episode. THE PARKER/HARDISON IN THIS EPISODE! they KILL me friends they KILL ME!

also just like, hardison in this episode in general. he made a star trek reference! he made a doctor who reference! he decides there are other people who need him more! the way they wrote around gina bellman's maternity leave in s2 was good but this was phenomenal.

also i'm here for ot3 crumbs so "is this like the time when eliot wanted us to say no" is going on my ot3-is-canon conspiracy board

this is a tiny detail but eliot taking out the drone with a goddamn ORANGE was so good. he's so good at his job!! they're all so good at their jobs!! i know i literally just talked about this but AAA

EPISODE 3: the rollin' on the river job

the "sometimes you just want to rob a vault wearing a floofy dress, and that's valid" job

i did... not. like. how the villain in this one was an immigrant whose exploitable weakness was a "desperation" to be included in the upper crust. and the fact that they beat him with a literal southern belle who explicitly beats him BECAUSE her family has been in the area for "hundreds of years"? it just feels Iffy.

also iffy about this episode was breanna's characterization. it felt inconsistent. she feels inconsistent across the whole season, but this episode in particular... she tells harry she's only with the team because she's desperate, that she doesn't believe in hope, and then at the end of the episode she tells parker she wants to be there to change the world. and like, even in the first place, she's not here out of desperation! SHE asked to join the team! like, i can see how it all kinda fits together, but it just feels... inconsistent. idk. i think these scripts all could've benefited from an extra round or two of editing.

anyway! i loved the way they tied hardison into these episodes, even though aldis hodge couldn't be there. he has binders! breanna doesn't want to read them! parker did! he put in big letters, "when in doubt, trust the person in the van". i'm just so !!! about how much i love him and how much he loves his team and how much his team loves him. FOUND FAMILY, BABY!

all inconsistencies in breanna's characterization aside, i really liked her speech at the end. i know how she feels! it's really nice to have someone on the team who's from -- not my world, really, but a lot closer than any of the others. it's a nice feeling! i love her a lot. i hope her writing gets more consistent

lol, parker ate eliot's carrot cake. i love the parker/eliot rights we get in this show, they're so domestic and it's wonderful.

EPISODE 4: the tower job

the "hardison made his partners learn klingon" job

watching this episode was what made me go "they're not going to make us sit through a harry/sophie romance... right? right?"

i'm still not sure they're gonna let us avoid it but it COULD work so... i've decided to just not worry about it for now

i liked the number of ways the con goes wrong! it was fun to watch them work on the fly like that. i think them not having a dedicated Mastermind(tm) is a good watsonian explanation for their plans being pretty haphazard in general, but it's good, they think well on their feet

nate was a chessmaster. he had the whole situation in his mind from the beginning, accounting for every possible outcome. parker and sophie are much more adaptive, and it's cool to see. they can rely on their respective skillsets a lot more than nate could

a really solid episode! probably one of the strongest ones in the season. i liked it a lot.

(ALSO as mentioned above the klingon lines were fantastic and not just because they were a star trek reference -- every time eliot and parker both mentioned hardison, together, it added a year to my lifespan)

EPISODE 5: the paranormal hacktivity job

the "sophie was worryingly prepared to fake her death" job

i know why they characterized the client as a skeptic, i really do, and i loved the format of this episode, but also. But Also. she should've been a love interest for breanna and I'm Right.

having a girl's episode was the CORRECT choice. they do crimes in their free time! they fleece newbie, cruel criminals! it's so good!

it would've been cool to have eliot around for the assassin guy, but it was also cool to see the others take him out without having eliot to rely on. it's like getting to see how they'd take out eliot, if they were ever on opposing sides.

PARKER CANONICALLY USES SCRIPTS IT'S THE BEST THING EVER

breanna bristling about letting the criminal into the theater's electric system was so good god i love her so much. she knows hardware! i bet she likes to work with her hands. i bet she stims. i bet she has adhd

actually, sidenote, but i LOVE these headquarters. they look so nice! the stage is so nice! i loved having an episode set in and around it, it was such a good choice.

EPISODE 6: the card game job

the "FINALLY AN EXPLICITLY QUEER LEVERAGE CHARACTER" job

QUEER BREANNA QUEER BREANNA QUEER BREANNA QUEER BR

UNFOLLOW ME NOW THIS IS GONNA BE THE ONLY THING I POST ABOUT FOR THE REST OF TIME

GOD, what a good way to reveal it. it's fully about her! i love queer romances, of course i do, but i don't think i've ever seen a character come out without a romance being their reason for doing so (however indirectly). i still think she should've gotten a date with the client from 1x05, but i really liked this too.

this episode just felt like a love letter to fandom, and i love that. i love how much it shone through. i'm used to writers specifically going out of their way to make fun of fans and laugh at them, so it was just. really nice to have someone stand up and go, no, this is important for a reason! people love this for a reason! it MEANS something!

very fun to watch eliot swordfight. very fun to watch sophie recite a sonnet in her classic fashion. very fun to watch parker work at being a good mentor. breanna was so excited about the card game! they're all so good!

oh, and i guess harry's here too.

EPISODE 7: the double-edged sword job

the "harry is addicted to mobile games, which is a mood" job

hot take alert! i think this is the weakest episode of the season by a LOT. it needed so much more editing. it felt so disjointed, so all over the place. the plot was haphazard but in a muffled way, where you had no idea why they were doing what they were doing. the climax was sudden and didn't make any sense. it was just weird.

i'm not the person to comment on this but it feels kind of lazy to cast an east asian guy to play a socially-awkward tech genius. just a thought.

oh, of course jonathan frakes directed this episode. sometimes his stuff is really good but other times (ahem, ds9 3x02) it's disjointed and all over the place. i'm not even surprised it was him.

idk if i have anything else to say about this. oh! some of the team moments were great -- mostly involving eliot. i loved the moment of him recognizing the headshot, i LOVED the ten seconds of everyone teasing him. he and parker talked about the wellbeing of their friend, the woman whose ex tracked her down!

separate bulletpoint to say how much i LOVED his conversation with breanna outside the house. he's so good at reassuring! he could go deeper there, talking about being better than your worst day, but he knew when not to push! it was so good.

"first off, this guy can't TOUCH hardison" deserves its own bulletpoint because like. y'all. Y'ALL.

EPISODE 8: the mastermind job

the "eliot is more than just a pretty face" job

oh man this post is so much longer than i thought it would be. okay just one more episode and then i'm done.

the callbacks to original leverage were SO well done and made me feel emotions without feeling overbearing.

i didn't like the central premise -- that nate would share so many details with a random insurance agent -- in the first place, but i did like how it allowed them to bring back nate without actually hiring timerty mcasshole.

i liked eliot's insistence that he's more than just the muscle! he is, and it's really good to know, textually, that the writers do too!

me, watching the resolution of the episode: ah, yeah, insurance fraud. a classic!

harry bonding with his guard had "they don't even have dental!" energy and i am SUCH a fan. i know it was all for the con but also give me harry, unable to stop advising people, even when they're actively holding him hostage

parker! on the phone with hardison!!!! ADORABLE

is it just me or was someone else expecting the accountant's name to be something significant? with the way they led up to it, i was waiting for a "sterling" or something else. my sensors were pinging for another tara reveal. i'm still convinced we're gonna get this guy dramatically revealed in the season finale.

a really nice episode! i had a lot of fun with it. and now i want to rewatch the rashamon job, but tbh i ALWAYS want to rewatch the rashamon job.

and that's a wrap! overall, a fun season, i enjoyed it a lot. not as solid as original leverage, but it's the very beginning, and it was put together during a global pandemic, so i'm cutting them some slack. also levar burton is gonna show up at some point. that's a big reason of why i'm cutting them so much slack.

my personal ranking of the episodes is 1x04, 1x06, 1x08, 1x01, 1x02, 1x03, and finally last (and least), 1x07.

what did you guys think of the new season? what was your favorite episode? do you agree with any of my opinions? disagree with any? let me know, please, i'd love to discuss!

[twoidiotwriters1]

Déjà Vu (Or are we losing our minds?) -Modern!Shirbert

A/N: That’s right! I’m starting a new (old if you ask the fellas in Ao3 lmao) AWAE series!! I was waiting to have enough chapters and now that day is finally here! I hope you like it -Danny

Words: 3,961

Next Chapter

Chapter One: Make Your Own Decision.

'Two souls don't find each other

                                      by simple accident.'

Gilbert wasn't a morning person.

Medical school was a pain in the ass, he didn't need to say that to anyone– He didn't like to complain at all if he was honest, after all, it was thanks to school that he was going to become a doctor. Still, he missed the lazy mornings on his bed, no worries in the world apart from what his father would make for breakfast.

That was years ago, though. Now he was an adult (or the closest thing to it, anyway) and he had bills to pay, he didn't have to pay rent and that was certainly a good thing, Bash and Mary were a gift sent from heaven after his dad had died, but he still helped around their house, along with the schoolwork he worked on relentlessly while trying to ignore the uncertain future knocking on his door almost every day.

After all the sleepless nights pacing around the kitchen, lights on and coffee maker ready to go, memorizing things and finishing research papers, he's pretty sure this isn't exactly healthy, but if he's bound to have similar routines for the rest of his life, he might as well get used to it.

He tries not to think a lot about that, his future, that is. All around him friends start to settle down, move out to their own places, find love, travel, having adventures while he spends all his weekends locked in his room learning about a new subject that is just as thrilling as any date he could possibly have.

That's a lie, of course. He longs for a break, an excuse to run wild and free just one night.

Luckily for him, that opportunity comes this Friday.

___________________

Anne's in love with the early sunlight, that warm, clear light that slips through her window every morning to announce a new day with no mistakes in it yet was about to start.

She loves the quiet, how time slows down for her while she pours a second cup of tea for her morning readings before heading to school. She loves the muffled noises Diana and Cole make while getting up, letting her know she has to hurry if she wants to start her routine on time.

She's a simple young woman (a very new one at that, if she was honest) and the little things still manage to give her a thrill that parties or any kind of social interaction simply can't.

That's half a truth, of course. She misses the weekly reunions with her Highschool friends, the bike rides with Jerry, her old neighbor, whenever they needed someone to rant about stupid things and none of their friends was around to do so.

Despite all this, she is fine. Anne follows the path to her dream: to become a successful writer for all kinds of people, to tell the stories that people need most at the moments when all hope seems lost and love is scarce.

However, when her Highschool friends text her and Diana about a much-needed reunion, she didn't have to think twice before replying with 'Oh god, YES.'

___________________

The Orchard was fairly known for its homely 'aesthetic' as some would call it, which attracted the younger people that needed a break from their crazy student lives. The diner had originally belonged to Gilbert's dad, but when he passed away, it fell onto Gilbert's hands and him, not wanting to close the place that had so many memories of his childhood, decided to add Bash's name into the papers.

Their dads had been good friends most of their lives, and although Gilbert and Bash aren't the same age, he thinks of him as some kind of older brother who always helped him get through the hard times, especially right after his father was gone. It was only natural that Bash owned half of the diner, after all, he loved the place as much as Gilbert, for his father had worked there in the bar while Mr. Blythe served the costumers.

The two lousy boys had dedicated most of their free, youthful time, to run around the place like they owned it. Now that they did, it was pretty much the same, only that this time they run around placing food on the tables and scribbling people's orders.

After a few months of hectic confusion, Bash's mother practically forced them to hire more staff, since they had their hands full and Gilbert was breaking under the pressure that it was to keep the business going the same as his career.

They hired one of Gilbert's old friends and a few students that lived near the diner. Moody Spurgeon, Prissy Andrews, Charlie Sloane, and the Pauls (They weren't related, they just happened to be named Paul).

That Friday was the last before their winter break, so it was packed with tons of eager students wanting to eat their money away now that most of them were returning home for the holidays. This meant two wonderful things to Gilbert:

One, the diner was going great.

Two, he was getting the well-deserved sleep he'd been lacking for months.

Excluding that night, because that night he was going to get utterly shitfaced with Moody and company after their evening shift.

___________________

"I've never heard of that place before," Anne replied distractedly as she kept grabbing things from the table and putting them inside her bag.

"Students love that place, Ruby says they serve the best food and she's always there, but Jane says she's actually crushing on one of the waiters, though Ruby refuses to either confirm or deny..."

"Ruby's always crushing on someone, though," Cole replied. "If she's still going after all this time, the food must be worth it as much as any cute boy."

"I honestly don't care as long as there's enough room to sit and have a long, long chat with all of you," Anne smiled dreamily. "I've missed them so much! Even Josie– And you know how often she tends to get on my nerves!"

"You wouldn't be missing them so much if you could put the books down every once in a while to hang with us," Diana rolled her eyes. "Honestly Anne, it's a miracle you're not blind or wear glasses at all after all the hours you stay with your face glued to the pages."

"I'd look awful with glasses!" Anne grimaced. "I hope my eyesight stays the same for the rest of my life."

"Well then, take care of your eyes and take a break from those books. Leave your bag here, you won't need it," Cole grinned.

Anne's eyes landed on the bag laying on top of their table. That bag was used for one thing only: To carry as many books as possible in case she got bored, so she could read at any time, any place. Also to carry her keys and pads, but those weren't as important.

"But... what if the girls arrive late?"

"You can talk to us, or are we too boring for you now, Miss Literate?" Diana teased.

"You know that's not it," She rolled her eyes. "Okay, if you want I'll leave the books."

"Perfect," Cole clapped once and got up excitedly. "Let's go!"

___________________

"Gilbert, come back to earth and take this to table three, will you?" Charlie hissed, putting the plate in front of his nose and waking the boy abruptly.

"Sorry!" He jumped, walking hurriedly to said table.

When he got back, Charlie was still there, examining his face.

"Are you sure you want to go out, man? I can tell you're worn out, maybe you should take a–"

"No!" Gilbert growled. He cleared his throat and continued on a much lighter voice after noticing this. "I- Uh, I'll be fine. I'll sleep all I want tomorrow, but today I really want to go out, before you and the boys go back to your homes for Christmas."

Charlie nodded with uncertainty.

"Maybe you should change places with Bash? The kitchen might keep you alert instead of sitting here and wait for people to call you over."

"Yeah..."

"I'll get him," His friend decided, walking back to the kitchen.

Gilbert heard the entrance's bell ring and turned to see Ruby Gillis and a few other girls enter.

Ruby was a good and constant client. He was glad about Bash taking his place because he believed that Ruby had a crush on Moody, and the waiter always took her orders no matter the table she was in, he didn't have enough energy to watch them ogle at each other.

"You okay, Blythe?" Bash patted his back once he and Charlie reappeared behind him. "You're sure you want to go out? With that look, you're likely to scare all the ladies away instead of getting a date for our Christmas party."

"Very funny," Gilbert scoffed. "I'm fine, I just need to stay active."

Before either Bash or Charlie could reply, he rushed into the kitchen, missing the exact moment when three new costumers arrived at the place.

***

"I see why people love it here," Anne said. "I feel cozy just by looking at it!"

"Yeah," Cole agreed, frowning slightly. "We are going to a bar after this, aren't we?"

"Cole!" They replied.

"I'm just asking!" He exclaimed. "It's lovely and all, but I'm not spending my last weekend away from my maniac siblings eating a freaking burger."

"It's likely," Diana retorted. When she noticed Anne's eyes widening, she quickly added. "No one will force you to get drunk, I know you hate how... uhm– Well, how crazy you get."

"I love drunk Anne!" Cole laughed. "Last time I saw her we were playing truth or dare and she was dared to kiss one of my friends, but then I convinced Josie to change the dare and after that Anne grabbed me by the collar and whispered very loudly. 'Thank you Cole. I actually want to kiss you now' and when I reminded her I was gay, she retorted 'Oh, sorry Gay, I thought you were Cole' "

Diana and Cole chortled, Anne shook her head in horror.

"Drunk me is terrible!"

"No! Only her puns are."

"Can we just get a table, please?"

"Oh!" Diana grabbed her arm, pulling her to a distant corner. "They're here already!"

The next few hours passed way too fast. Anne, finally reunited with her best friends, felt as if she was finally coming back to life.

As Diana had predicted, they decided to go to a bar a few streets down the road from The Orchard. A place their waiter, a young man named Moody and who Anne suspected was the waiter Ruby had feelings for, had recommended to them, casually letting them know that he was going to be there after work with a few of his friends. Ruby practically dragged them to the bar as soon as they paid the bill.

"Bet Ruby ends up declaring her love to that waiter in less than an hour, and ends up spending the rest of the Holidays mourning because she scared him away," Josie whispered audibly to Jane and Anne. The former sniggered and nudged Josie's arm. Anne frowned worryingly towards her friend, really hoping that wasn't the case.

___________________

"Who's ready to lose all memories from whatever happens tonight?" Paul asked loudly over the music, placing a bunch of drinks in front of the group.

The boys answered by chugging down drink after drink, getting clumsier as time went by.

Gilbert was having a blast, most of his days he wishes he could go back to being a teenager, slightly more different than the one he was. One that wasn't all that quiet and reserved and bitter about his dad's fate.

He longed for his lost youth, where he would attend parties and go to prom looking sharp, accompanied by a pretty girl beside him. All those teams and clubs he had to leave to stay home and spend the last days of his father's life next to his bed, all those gatherings he missed with people from other places because he had to get the best grades so one day he could be a doctor, so he could save the people he loved... so he didn't have to live through the uncertainty and the uselessness again.

Tonight he was finally getting that, he could pretend he was still just a boy, a stupid boy who didn't know how to drink and most certainly would end up throwing up half his stomach out of his body, but a happy boy at least.

"You know," He yelled to no one in particular. "Did you know, that you guys are my best friends?"

The boys replied with words of appreciation, patting his back harshly. Charlie even hugged him.

"I mean it!" He continued. "These last few months have been shit. There, I said it. Shit."

"What you need," One of the Pauls said, he wasn't as drunk as Gilbert, but he was definitely almost there. "What you need is to get laid."

The boys erupted into mayhem, agreeing with Paul. All of them except for Gilbert.

He frowned, not understanding what they meant.

"I said I'm not tired," Gilbert shook his head, his whole body losing stability and crashing against Moody, who held him in place as if it was normal to lose your ground while sitting on a chair. "I don't need to lay in bed just yet."

"I meant sex," Paul retorted, chugging down half of what he had in his glass.

"Oh," Gilbert sat back, eyebrows raising as if he'd never thought about it before. "Well, that's different."

"You need a break," Charlie slurred. "Or is the good doctor too much of a saint to touch a strange girl?"

"I'm not," Gilbert huffed, drinking what was left of his drink. "I can have sex. I like sex!"

"But Gilbert, you've never had–" Moody started, but was soon cut off by Gilbert's sudden movement.

The young man stood up, leaning on the table and losing all the color on his face. The rest of the group moved away as Moody grabbed Gilbert by the shoulders and straightened him up.

"Gilbert?" He asked, slightly coming back to his senses.

"Bathroom," He said quietly.

"Alright," Moody gulped. "Be right back, guys. Gilbert needs a moment."

___________________

Anne spent the majority of the night talking with everyone, and the problem with that is that she gets thirsty when that happens. Which is a dangerous thing to be at a bar.

Still, Cole -what a great friend he was- made sure to always keep her glass full so she could take sip after sip without having to wait.

She knew she was far from sober when she found herself in the middle of an argument with Josie and Tillie about zodiac signs. Anne was talkative on the daily, but after a few drinks she was simply unstoppable- There was no soul on earth or heaven that could follow her train of thoughts, and right now she wasn't even sure she was following them herself.

"I have to pee," She said, interrupting her own story and sliding out of their booth to stand up.

"I'll go with you," Ruby said, impatient to have an excuse to stand up and look around for Moody, she'd barely touched her drink all night.

"Okay, but it's not like I need help or anything," Anne rolled her eyes, accidentally stepping on Tillie's foot. "Woops! Sorry, Tillie!"

Cole watched her along with Diana, both raising their glasses and making a silent toast for their friend. Anne was finally having fun after such a dull term and it was simply amusing watching her act so recklessly during her drunken state.

"Don't stay for too long Anne," Ruby warned her. "Last time you fell asleep inside the stall and Diana had to crawl underneath to get you out!"

"It wasn't my fault!" She replied loudly. "I hadn't slept at all that week, and the alcohol makes wonders to my insomnia."

"I think you've had enough for tonight as well," Ruby grinned. "I'll get you a cold glass of water once where back in our table, okay?"

Anne nodded, silently making her way into the girl's toilet. Since it was just one bathroom, Ruby had to stand outside, leaning on the sink and examining her reflection on the mirror. Two men, one dragging the other, walk past her in a rush and opened the boy's bathroom harshly, the one who'd been dragged quickly fell to his knees and started vomiting his guts out.

"Oh my god!" Ruby gasped, covering her mouth in horror. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," The guy said without turning to see her. "He doesn't drink this much often, that's all."

The young man stood up once he made sure Gilbert was doing fine on his own, not choking or anything, and turn to meet the blonde's eyes.

"Oh," His cheeks reddened. "Hi!"

"Moody!" She exclaimed happily. "You weren't lying, you came here after all!"

"Yeah," He smiled. "We wanted to give our buddy Gilbert a good night before we return home. Now I'm not so sure about it..." He grimaced at hearing his friend's grunts and gags.

"I'm with my friends as well, but I..." Ruby blushed lightly, even that she managed to make enchanting. "If you have time, we could seat together for a moment? Just the two of us?"

"Right now?" Moody asked in surprise.

"Well, no," Ruby peered over his shoulder at the boy's bathroom. "Not if you can't, I see your friend is feeling terrible..."

"He'll recover," Moody brushed it off. "He's studying to become a doctor, you know? I bet he'll see his way out now that the alcohol's out of his system"

"You're sure?" The girl inquired.

"Are you able right now?" Moody looked behind her to see the girl's door. "Were you waiting in line or is one of your friends there?"

"A friend, she's also wasted," Ruby said, pondering her options. "But... I guess if she managed to walk all the way here on her own... she can walk back just fine?"

Moody's smile widened.

"We better go get those drinks, then?"

"Sure!" Ruby exclaimed, holding Moody's wrist and dragging him back to the bar.

A minute after her friend had left, Anne walked out of the toilet, mid-conversation with a Ruby she didn't know was no longer there.

"... and the toilets here are so comfortable, I almost felt tempted to have a nap right there, but a promise is a promise– See, Ruby? I didn't stay for too long!" She looked up to find the spot empty, her confidence falling. "Or perhaps I did..?"

Lightly stumbling her way over to the sink, she focused on washing her hands before going back. Her reflection looked back at her and smiled happily, putting some strands of loose hair behind her ear and failing to notice the boy's door opening.

There was a small slate on her right with the words 'Wash your hands before you leave! :)' written with purple chalk that she found adorable. She picked it up to examine it further when a body clumsily crashed against her side.

"Woops!" The man said, not looking up. "Sorry."

Anne raised her brow for a second before turning her attention back to the slate.

Gilbert washed his face and hands, the world less blurry than before but still awfully intoxicated. Paul's comment came back to him and feeling the girl's presence behind his back he decided it was rather convenient.

"Excuse me," He asked, looking up and facing the girl's reflection. "Can I ask you something?"

It took her a moment to realize he was talking to her, the man kept staring at the mirror instead of turning to face her, but she could sort of see his face under the dim lights looking back at her though, and since she was feeling rather chatty, she obliged.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Do I look like I need sex?"

Anne laughed.

"Dunno, why're you asking?"

"My life sucks," Gilbert shook his head casually. "And I'm about to have the worst hangover ever."

"That makes two of us, dude."

Gilbert tilted his head, turning to see her now, taking in her appearance.

"You would have sex with me?"

"Excuse me," Anne frowned. "I barely know you!"

"Yeah, but am I attractive?"

"It doesn't matter, I wouldn't have sex with a stranger."

"Very well, then imagine that I'm not a stranger," Gilbert rolled his eyes, having to hold on to the corner of the sink so as not to lose his balance. "Would you do it?"

Anne started to imagine, she imagined a great deal so she could give a precise answer.

"Well, I'd have to know your medical records cause I don't wanna get any diseases, and then I'd have to find you likable because looks aren't everything– and if I'm having sex with you I probably want something that lasts–"

"Nevermind," Gilbert snorted. "I think we're both better if we don't have anything at all."

"Why's that?" Anne asked irritatedly, this guy was making no sense to her.

"You overthink a lot and I already do that way too much for my own good," Gilbert explained.

"Oh, so you'd rather take advantage of a dumb girl, is that what you're saying?"

"That's what you're saying," He scoffed. "I only asked if you'd have sex with me in a hypothetical scenario but you rambled on with the rest, Carrots."

"I was giving an honest reply," She stated. "And don't call me, Carrots. You sound like a child."

Gilbert laughed loudly at that.

"Better a child than a grumpy librarian," He walked up to her, grabbed a strand of her hair and pulled lightly, with a taunting voice, he added. "Carrots."

Anne's fingers gripped the slate harder than ever as she flung it to the man's head. It was small and thin, so it didn't cause severe damage, but the slate broke in half with a nasty 'crack' that pleased her a bit too much.

"How dare you!" She yelled in drunk anger. "I don't know who the hell you are, but I'm certain no one would have sex with a jerk!"

She stormed off, giving Gilbert no opportunity to apologize. Although he didn't seem to mind that much at the moment, the things around him spun once more and he had to return to the toilet to vomit what was left of his evening drinks, dreading the following morning.

___________________

Anne, Cole, and Diana returned home with rosy cheeks and loud laughter surrounding them. The trio intoxicated in happiness and many, many margaritas and shots.

"Best night ever!" Anne yelled as she let herself fall on the couch, kicking off her shoes.

"Told you it was going to be fun!" Diana grinned, laying beside her.

"My favorite part was to find Ruby making out with the waiter when I went to ask for the check," Cole cackled. "No wonder why she abandoned you in the bathroom!"

"Don't even tell me about it, I had the most unpleasant encounter–"

"Oh my god!" Diana sat up, looking at her phone with wide eyes. "It's four in the morning! We have to be back in Avonlea in less than eight hours!"

Cole and Anne groaned.

"Can't we have a nap first? We packed all of our things already!" Anne whined.

"Please?" Cole fell on the couch opposite to them. "I'm exhausted!"

"Fine..." Diana sighed. "But I'm certain my mom's gonna kill me for arriving late."

"What can she do? Forbid you to go to their Christmas dinner?" Cole chuckled. "Just sleep, Diana."

"Goodnight, guys."

"Goodnight!"

"Sweet dreams," Anne mumbled, half-asleep.

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[wildcrisis]

The Detriment of a Pro-Hero Society

Also known as: Kids are kind of being brainwashed into being heroes, let’s look into that.

Dedicated to @deafmic for getting me back into this bullshit and inspiring me to finish something I had started noting out about two years ago. By now, I’m sure much of this has been said over time by various people, and it makes me happy to know that there are others out there who like to look deep into the background culture and settings of their favorite manga!

I apologize in advance if you notice an idea of yours here; I haven’t been active in the fandom in two-ish-years, so I may be restating some things you guys already have. I consider this rambling analysis to be free to use and abuse by anyone, no credit necessary! I only get a little bit of time on the weekends to really be on my PC, so if you send me an ask or reply to this, it may take me some time to reply back!

Anywho, onto this mess I’ve made. It’s not very tidy and is more a collection of thoughts than a properly detailed analysis, but I ain’t got all day. Again, this is messy but I don’t really have the energy to make it nice and neat.

Looking for something in specific? You might wanna ctrl+f around these titles, because this is very long and rambling.

Part I: The Beginning of Quirks and their Effect on Society Part II: What Makes a Villain Part III: M O N E Y and F A M E Part IV: Brainwashed Part V: Ignoring Those Who Need Help Part VI: Cycle/Conclusion

Part I: The Beginning of Quirks and their Effect on Society

So, we know through the manga that, as quirks first began to evolve and more and more people obtained them, the world was thrown into chaos. People had obtained power, and power is as power does, and it corrupts.

As people began using their quirks for evil deeds that broke the law, law enforcement around the world was essentially powerless. After all, during the birth of the quirk age, quirks were the minority. The powerful minority. Against that, men with tasers, batons, and guns hardly stood a chance.

However, just as the rise of quirks gave birth to people who would use that power for misdeeds, so did it bring life to those who had the inherent desire to protect others. The beginning of the age of vigilantes, which would lead to the age of Pro Heroes.

Obviously, All for One was very relevant during this time, but we’re not here to talk about him. For once. We’re here to talk about society as a whole.

The world order was too chaotic. We are aware of this due to the monologues of certain characters, and I assume we’ll be learning more as more of the former carriers of One for All become present in Deku. In this beginning, it wasn’t so much “heroes” versus “villains”, more than it was law abiding citizens versus law breakers. It’s likely that precedent hadn’t yet been established for “no quirk use”, as there were hardly enough people who could actually enforce such a law.

As more of society began to develop quirks, the Police Force made a decision to not use their quirks to take down law breakers. They moved to a more leadership position, and took a backseat to those who did use their quirks for good. At first, it was a hard decision to allow such things as Pro Heroes to take on law breakers who were too dangerous for someone to take down without a quirk.

But why, after all this time, have the Police and the Pro Heroes remained separate entities? Why have they never combined, and why do they remain so polarized in how they approach situations?

The answer is simple, yet multi-layered. Heroes and Villains ... they’re popular. They attract attention.

Part II: What Makes a Villain

If you assign a person the label “Villain”, you de-humanize them. They are no longer a “person”, per se, but a monster. Evil, in the eyes of most people. It’s easier, then, to accept their fate of being beaten by a Hero, and being carted off to prison.

This is an important distinction to make. If you remove the labels of Hero and Villain. If you remove their Quirks. Do people still react the same way? Do they cheer and adore the hero, as the hero beats the opponent senseless? Of course not. In a battle of man vs man, in the moment, humans don’t react in such a way.

We can understand why an adult who lived a hard life may turn to a life of crime. But, hardly to we look as to why or how they got there.

In this world where quirks have become the norm, but are constantly evolving, we must wonder; how are quirks judged? How are they defined? How are people treated, for the quirk they possess?

We have many examples of outcasts, and they possess a wide variety of quirks from “extremely destructive” to simply “strange, odd, not okay in society”.

Shigaraki and Overhaul are both examples of terrifying, destructive quirks. Is it any wonder that their lives turned out the way they did? The power of death was etched into their very DNA. We know Shigaraki’s backstory and how he became who he is today. It’s implied that Chisaki was abandoned or ran away as well.

Then, you have the more odd quirks that, on the surface don’t seem nefarious, but when explained in context, would make people feel uncomfortable. Toga, who’s quirk is to drink blood and transform into another person. Twice, who can make copies of any person and used his quirk for an evil deed. Nemoto, who can force anyone to tell the truth, and lived a life where he realized everyone was lying to him.

Even Shinsou Hitoshi, desperate to become a hero, was put down for what his quirk DOES. Brainwashing. That’s a “villain’s quirk”. Fellow children said that to him so casually, and behaved as if they were terrified of him!

Eri, with her quirk that made her father disappear from existence itself ... Had she not been rescued from Overhaul, what would have become of her? Forced to believe her entire existence was a curse, told that she does nothing but harm people -- as she grew older and gained control of her power, would anyone honestly think she would have led a life of goodness, considering how she was raised?

How many people labeled Villains are currently in prison, because they were treated like outcasts from the moment they developed a terrifying quirk? Was there anyone there to help them figure their way through this world, considering what they’d been born with? Are there services for people who have trouble controlling their quirks, which are truly destructive? Even with laws in place saying that you can’t use your quirk publicly, just LIVING with that knowledge that you were born ... with a scary quirk ... a villain’s quirk ... How people treat you because of that, how you look, what your quirk can do -- do you ever have any friends? Any real friends, that aren’t just people who are scared of you?

Is it any wonder, that people like this turn out to be “villains”? Society is GROOMING THEM to BE VILLAINS, simply for who and what they are and are born with.

Part III: M O N E Y and F A M E

Throwing oneself into harms way sure is a dangerous move, that most people would never bother doing. How, then, do you entice more people to become heroes and take on the villains that are popping up all around for obvious reasons?

You make your Heroes popular. You make sure they look stylish. They have cool attitudes. You make them popular among the children. After all, getting fellow adults in on the Pro-Hero train is good and all, but much like a pro-athlete, one can likely only do Hero work for a certain span of time before their body is unable to take the strain. Maybe say, ages 18-40?

Besides, with more and more people being born every day with quirks, the number of people who turn to villainous activity will grow, right? Especially if you’re not actively helping people manage their quirks, because hey, they’re not allowed to use them publicly so what does it matter?

Kids. Kids will watch heroes on TV, and see it just like any other super-hero show or cartoon. They’ll buy the merchandise. People will begin to hemorrhage money over these heroes, because they’re flashy. They’re kind. They save lives.

Now, not to say that Heroes are just there for the paycheck -- not at all. Many people become heroes simply because they do love to help people. Some become heroes because they want to stop bad guys. Sure, there are some who do it to maybe someday live an easier life, or because it pays really well and they have family to support. But, I do believe that most people go into the Pro Hero business with good intentions.

THIS, is part of the reason that Pro Heroes have remained separate from law enforcement. They are now a business. A very wealthy business. It’s not just hero agencies that make money off of the Pro Hero business. It’s toy manufacturers. Comic book stores. Prisons. Hospitals. Roots of Pro Hero society reach into nearly every type of business that there is, whether directly or indirectly.

Nobody wants that money to disappear by folding Heroes back into the police force. No, they want MORE heroes. More heroes, and more people for the heroes to fight.

tldr: heroes = $$$, so keep ‘em coming

Part IV: Brainwashed

There are a lot of factors that go into making society as a whole okay with something. It takes a lot of time, for one. It takes powerful, well spoken people. It takes lots of media attention. Before you know it, everyone is eating up the same exact thing quite willingly ... and it spreads to the next generation. And the next. After that happens, its something that is well integrated into society, like a freckle that’s always been on your arm -- its just “always been that way”.

I’ve mentioned several times that its odd for people to be so okay with one person beating another person senseless. Again, we know that its considered acceptable, because of the labels we’ve put on these individuals based on their actions: Heroes and Villains.

What I wonder is: How long have people been okay with this? Do they not realize that, in a way, this is history repeating itself?

We know why people don’t dig deeper into this. Pro Heroes are popular and people love them. The media has hand fed the Hero lifestyle to children for some time now. There are schools, MORE THAN ONE SCHOOL, that teach your child how to become a pro hero.

Think about that. It’s not just some extra-curricular activity, like sports. These are schools, designed to take in freshly graduated MIDDLE-SCHOOLERS who have not finished their regularly schooling education, who still have growing bodies and minds, and ... crafts them into perfect pro-heroes. AND PARENTS ARE OKAY WITH THIS -- SOMETIMES EVEN MORE THAN OKAY WITH IT.

These schools send young teenagers onto the streets under a pro-heroes wing to witness and be a part of fighting crime. Not organized crime, like a ring of bad guys or something, but ... random crime. Disasters. From a young age, they may encounter situations with actual dead people. Their training is dangerous. Their powers can be dangerous. One wrong move, and a student, someone you worked alongside, had lunch with everyday, is just ... gone.

There exists a police force in society. There are already pro-heroes. Why, then, is society okay with multiple schools that are practically breeding child soldiers? They are teaching kids everything about how to kick ass, how to take down these terrifying people, how to fight, how to save lives ...

Why is no one looking into why villains exist in the first place? Are these kids ever taught de-escalation tactics? To talk their opponents down? Not everyone out there is using their quirk to be evil for the sake of being evil. There’s always a reason, a purpose.

Part V: Ignoring Those Who Need Help

Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.

Hey, Star Wars had some good points!

I’ve discussed before what makes a villain. People who are afraid of what they’re capable of. People who society has turned their back on. People who desperately need help, but there is no one out there willing to give it.

These people will always find each other in the shadows. They begin, at a young age, being terrified of what they are. What they’ve done. What they can do. Maybe they’ve been kicked out of their families. Maybe they’ve killed before, completely on accident.

The average person turns their back on people like this.

These people begin their lives terrified. Constantly being told that their quirks, their past, their family, what ever it is, will make them end up a bad person. Or, maybe they tell them they’re already a bad person. That fears breeds anger and hate. Hate for this society that would rather see them burn, than offer them any help.

A young boy grows up into a man. He had a potentially devastating quirk that he never really got a good hold on, because he was never allowed to practice with it. Everyone is too scared to let him try. Then, one day, something happens -- completely by accident. He causes a scene. A massacre. He hurts people.

Parents are excited to see which of their quirks their baby displays. Instead of being one or the other, or even a fusion of both, the unthinkable occurs. Its a mutation. The toddler hurts a sibling, a parent, a friend. Terrified, the parents abandon the child, for fear of losing their entire family.

A child is told, over and over, that his quirk will never be good for anything other than being evil. This knowledge rests heavy on his shoulders, its repeated to him yearly as he grows. Then, when he acts on what everyone has TOLD HIM FOR YEARS HE WILL DO, they are surprised. As if they hadn’t imprinted the very notion into his mind.

In a way, Overhaul was right about one thing. Hero society is a disease. People look forward to watching Heroes take down Villains and save the day. They don’t think at all about why these people are villains, how they got there, where they came from. They will never admit to potentially being the reason villains exist in the first place.

Part VI: Cycle/Conclusion

Wow, I have rambled a lot. I don’t think I hit every point that I’ve ever thought of for sure. There’s ... a lot of them. And a lot of comparisons I wanted to make to other superhero anime, specifically Tiger and Bunny, which I believe does an excellent job of showing the ups and downs of hero societies.

What I wanted to make clear in all this rambling mess (which, if you read all of it, I am SO SO SORRY), is that the very existence of Pro Heroes and Villains exist solely because of a few factors that exist in a cycle.

Pro Heroes = $$$ -> Schools for more heroes -> ignoring quirk-related-problems -> more villains -> pro heroes beat up villains -> pro heroes =$$$ etc

There is someone, or some organization, that sits above all of this. There has to be. There has to be some more logical explanation as to why this type of Hero v Villain culture has been allowed to exist all of this time, and things have not drifted more back in the direction of police vs lawbreakers. There has to be a reason that its okay for heroes to be so popular. There has to be a reason that children are allowed to be groomed into becoming heroes. There has to be a reason that there isn’t more help out there for people with these types of potentially destructive quirks.

There has to be reasons.

There has to be reasons for how the Hero Commission moves. There has to be reasons for how the police move. There has to be a reason that society is still allowed to go on like this, and that its become culturally acceptable.

If anyone out there can put all my rambling into clearer words and actively wants to, I would love that. Thank you for taking the time to read my mess!

xoxo Wild

[nighthaikyuu]

can’t | 02 | i.hajime x reader x o.tooru

pairing: iwaizumi hajime + best-friend! reader + oikawa tooru

word count: 1.9k

genre: angst, fluff, friends-to-lovers! au

warnings: none

parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | tbc

“Alright, its break time! Come back in 20 minutes you guys hear me?”

“Yes Coach!” the boys rang in unison as they bowed down to him, before dispersing, all moving in different directions to do different things during the thirty minutes of free time they had.

The Spring Tournament was coming up and the Aoba Johsai Boy’s Volleyball team had been practicing nonstop in preparation for it. This was the year. This had to be the year they beat Shiratorizawa and went to nationals.

You had just gotten back from filling up the boys’ water bottles and were handing them out to them, one by one when you let your gaze roam around the gym, looking for a certain someone. However, what you ended up seeing was something you wished you hadn’t.

It had been a mere month since the painful night when Iwaizumi had rejected the idea of dating you, despite sharing the same feelings. As much as you wanted to fight, you felt hopeless. In a way, you shared the same concern as Iwaizumi did—how could you do that to Oikawa? So you thought the best thing to do was to move on, find someone else, someone that wasn’t Oikawa’s best friend.

But as much as you tried, your body continued to betray you at every opportunity possible. Your heart that would race a little faster when you would see him. Your eyes that subconsciously looked for him wherever you went.  Your thoughts that were filled with memories of him and how things used to be.

However, it seems you were the only one.

While Oikawa had his dedicated fan club filled with female students with whom he’d often interact and flirt playfully with, Iwaizumi was never one to engage in anything like that. Most of the time he was dragging Oikawa away or rolling his eyes at the way Oikawa acted.

Which was why what you saw had every single nerve in your body tingling with an unknown mix of anger and jealousy within you.

There Iwaizmu stood, arm leaning against the door frame to the gym as he stood there smiling down at two girls from your class, Hina and Aika, who were happily speaking to him. One giggled every other second, throwing her head back in laughter as her fingers twirled the ends of her hair flirtatiously. The other playfully hit Iwaizumi’s shoulder whenever he would say something, flashing him a coy smile.

“Well, would you look at that.” you heard a voice say teasingly behind you.

Oikawa walked up to stand beside you, softly tsking, “Who would’ve thought our little Iwa-chan could talk to a girl, a girl that isn’t you, right?”

Despite the sour expression that clouded your face, you forced a tight chuckle “Yea, well. Guess everyone changes.”

Unable to witness any more than you already had, you quickly turned around and moved towards the other side of the gym, hoping to preoccupy your mind with things that didn’t have anything to do with the black-haired male.

“Huh.” Oikawa simply said as he saw you walk away, your body tense with every step you took. Turning around, Oikawa called, “Oi Iwa-chan, break’s almost over, let’s go!”

Saying a quick goodbye to the girls he had been talking to, Iwaizumi ran up to join Oikawa as the two of them made their way back onto the court.

“So, I see someone has a new fan club in starting.”

“Shut up shittykawa.”

The three of you were walking home together after a long day of practice. Usually, you would leave early since Oikawa would always want to stay after to practice more, leaving Iwaizumi to stay behind and watch over him. But to your surprise, Oikawa insisted they all walk home together today since he simply “missed doing it like the old days”.

Oh, the things you would do to go back to the old days.

You had barely stepped a couple feet away from the gates of Aoba Johsai when you all heard a voice call out Oikawa’s name. The three of you turned around in unison to see a girl standing several feet away.

Oikawa merely raised a brow before plastering his usual wide smile on his face.

“I’ll be back.” he merely said before making his way to the girl who with every step Oikawa took towards her seemed to get redder and redder, her cheeks flush.

As you saw the confession go down, and the soft rejection Oikawa gave her, for a moment you forgot who had been standing next to you until you heard him say, “And there he does it again.”

Looking up at him, you saw Iwaizumi already looking at you. Yet when your eyes met his, he quickly averted his gaze, his lips pursing into a tight line. Your lips parted to say something, you wanted to just say something so desperately. The two of you had barely talked since that night, and you were surprised nobody had caught on yet.

But before you could even try, Oikawa slowly jogged back, his hands full of what seemed to be a letter and some chocolates.

“Another girl turned down by the Great King?” you joked to which Oikawa rolled his eyes.

“I don’t even know what they all see in me. I feel bad for them, but what can I do?” Oikawa smirked playfully to which earned him a slap to the arm from you.

With that, the three of you set off. The walk home passed with Oikawa talking most of the time, followed by side comments that you and Iwaizumi would give in response, but never to each other. Within minutes, you had reached your house as it was the closest to Aoba Johsai out of the three of you.

Opening the gate, you made your way to enter when you heard Oikawa clear his throat. Turning around, you saw the boy with his arms outstretched, motioning you to give him a hug.

“Come on, gimme a hug. It’s the long weekend and I won’t see you until Tuesday,” he whined, his lips forming a pout.

“Tooru, I live down the street from you—”

“Nuh-uh. No excuses. Now hurry, my arms hurt.”

Shaking your head in amusement, you walked up to him and let Oikawa wrap his arms around your body tightly as he squeezed you tight. Pulling away from him, you found your gaze automatically landing on Iwaizumi who had his eyes set on the ground beneath him.

“Iwa-chan! Aren’t you going to give our little Y/N a hug now?” Oikawa asked, nudging the boy with his shoulder.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll see her again in three days, not three years.” Iwaizumi mumbled under his breath, yet loud enough for everyone to hear.

If the circumstances had been different, you would’ve jumped into his arms regardless and forced him to give you a hug. But instead, you simply forced a laugh and hit Iwaizumi’s shoulder in an attempt to be somewhat normal, “Aren’t you a little brat.”

At that, Iwaizumi looked at you before scoffing slightly. Feeling taken aback, you knew he was just being himself, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt at his reaction.

Biting down on your lip, you gave Oikawa a small wave before walking through your house gates and into your front door, closing it quickly behind you.

Outside, Oikawa punched Iwaizumi’s arm causing the boy to yelp in surprise, “The fuck?! That actually hurt you asshole.”

“Why didn’t you hug Y/N?!” Oikawa whisper-yelled as he quickly looked towards your house to make sure you had gone inside, “What is she going to think when I’m the only one who hugged her? You might as well just say that I like her at this point.”

Iwaizumi wanted to scoff, his nerves itching for him to tell him that she already knows, you dumbass.

Rubbing the spot, where now both you and Oikawa had hit, Iwaizumi said tightly, “You’ll be fine. She’s not going to think that deep into things like that.”

Scowling, Oikawa huffed before trudging off ahead. Looking up at your house, Iwaizumi stood there for a couple seconds before releasing a broken sigh. He could feel his heart aching, his heart that hadn’t stopped aching since the day you told him you had liked him too. But when he looked up and saw Oikawa motioning for him to hurry up, guilt rushed through his veins. Taking one last at your house, he started to walk towards Oikawa. But what he didn’t see was you watching him through your room window upstairs, your own heart aching in your chest in the same way.

“What did you say?”

The words flew past your lips before you could hold them back, but you couldn’t help it. Not when you had heard something like that.

Looking up at you from the floor, Maki replied, “He didn’t tell you? Apparently, Hina confessed to Iwaizumi yesterday after practice.” 

Your grip on the volleyball in your hand tightened.

“Oh.”

“What did he Iwazumi senpai say in return? Hina is one of the cutest girls in Aoba Johsai, there’s no way he rejected her right?!” Kindaichi prodded, the younger boy burning with envy.

Shrugging, Maki continued, “I actually don’t know. I think Coach called us just as he had told me what happened. They’ve been talking recently a lot, so I bet things went well.”

“Impossible! Iwa-chan actually liking a girl and dating her? I must be dreaming.” Oikawa snorted, although his face was beaming with joy for his best friend.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t find a single cell within you that felt anything except a mix of sadness, anger, jealousy, and betrayal all in one.

“Y/N, aren’t you proud of him? He’s all grown up now.” Oikawa grinned, before dramatically wiping away the fake tears from the corners of his eyes.

Plastering on a fake smile, you replied stiffly, “Yea. Good for him,” as you handed the volleyball you had been tightly gripping to Oikawa.

“Let’s go pester him for more info—”

“I have to finish cleaning up. You can go and ask him if you want.” you interrupted abruptly. Bending down to grab the volleyball near your foot, you walked away from the group of boys who all stared at your retreating figure.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask...Is Y/N alright?” Maki asked slowly, turning to look at Oikawa. 

As his brow furrowed together, he noticed the way you moved around appeared tense, similar to the way he had seen a couple weeks ago when Iwaizumi had been busy talking to Hina and Aika. A sinking feeling erupted within Oikawa’s stomach but before he could delve on it any further, he quickly dismissed Maki with a wave of his hand, “Nah, I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably stressed with school stuff.”

With that, the rest of the boys went back to what they were doing. However, Oikawa’s gaze still remained on your figure. The feeling in his stomach slowly crept up to his heart now, causing his chest to ache in an unfamiliar way.

tag list: @dadchi-oya​, @captain-janeway​

if you want to be on the taglist, fill out this x link or just comment/message me!

[pettyprocrastination]

Rip Out Our Seams and Stitch Us Together

Maxwell Lord x Valerie Lord x Black!Reader

Chapter Four

Word Count:

Warnings: Angst, Val is a bit of a bitch, also poorly written smut. Oral sex (fem receiving) be gentle with me I went lite on the smut because i’ve NEVER WRITTEN THIS BEFORE.

Summary: After a long day at work you get a visit from your richest customer and learn more about the ruthless trophy wife than you’d expect. 

Tag List: @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa​ @captainsamwlsn​ @readsalot73​ @zeldasayer​ @cinewhore​

Chapters: 1/2/3/4

“So what are they like?”

You raised a brow at Cassie, who you were currently walking to her car. It was something you did each night after the shop closed, you would usually stay for another hour or so but you wanted to make sure she got home safe before late. Mostly to make sure she wouldn’t wake up late for school the next day. 

Cassandra was a good kid. Smart as a whip and dedicated as hell, she was saving up for college so she worked any time she was free, which was right after school every single day. You knew that eventually, you'd have to bring more people on board for the shop, but right now you had a comfortable level of close knit customers that the pair of you could handle with ease. 

“Who?”

She snorted and bumped her shoulder against your arm. “You know, the Lords.”

“You tell me, you see them every time they come into the shop.” Which was true, but each time she seemed to freeze up and lose the ability to speak. Upon learning what they were actually like, the glitz and glam wore off pretty damn quickly in your opinion. 

“But you get to talk to them!” She unlocked her car before clamoring in and poking her head out of the window. “Seriously though, how are they?”

You pondered for a moment before giving her a dignified response. “Dickish. Goodnight Cass!” The teenager laughed before pulling out of the parking lot and driving home, you watched until her car was out of sight before turning around and walking back to the store. The only light you had was the streetlamps passing the corner and the flickering neon signs of the twenty four hour restaurant across from you. 

Until the bright headlights of a car driving right up to the sidewalk in front of your store. 

There’s a brief moment of panic in your heart before you steady yourself. It’s late, you're alone, a black woman in D.C with nobody at her side, you've been in this position before and will continue to be as such. The door is only a few paces behind you, if you had to, you could turn and sprint to make it in time. 

Your planning process melts away when the engine of the car turns off, the driver side door opens and a long leg wearing a red stiletto heel steps out, followed by another. 

“Mrs.Lord?”

Sure enough, Valerie Lord walked up to you at ten thirty at night, heels clicking with authority against the asphalt and a smile. 

She looked...off-put. 

“Hello Stitches.” Maybe it was the lights of the lamps above playing tricks on you, or just your lack of sleep, but you could’ve sworn you saw a little tremble in her painted lips. “Mind if I come in?”

-----

“I just figured I’d pop in.” She set her purse on the counter, looking around the store before her eyes settled on you again. It seemed like she was trying very hard to be nonchalant with you and it made the entire situation seem even more off. “See how much you’ve gotten done.”

“How much I’ve gotten done?” You quirked a brow at her. Last time you saw them they spent more time arguing with each other than actually giving you feedback. “Well I’ve got a few ideas but-”

“Lovely!” She clapped her hands together and you fought the urge to cringe at her voice. It sounded too shrill, too high pitched and forced, all the other times it has been smooth, an almost husky lure, but tonight, it seemed tense. 

In fact, all of her did.

Her smile was a touch too wide, you could see the strain in her cheeks, her hair mussed and face slightly raw, as if she had rubbed all her makeup off just to put it all back on. Her blue eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were glassy, as if she was fighting back tears. 

You knew the feeling a little too well. 

“Why don’t you bring those out for me and I can have a look.” She sniffled and turned her nose at you, most likely to hide the tears building in the corners of her eyes. “To make sure I’d actually wear them of course.”

“Oh, uh, yeah sure.” You turned on your heel to go into the backroom. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Right before the door you froze, pondering for a moment before an idea, albeit one that could easily blow up in your face, formed. 

“Is something the matter?” Her voice quivered as she spoke, but she covered it with a sharp hissing tone. 

“Uh, no.” You turned around and let out an awkward chuckle. “I uh, just forgot where I put the book is all, don’t worry. I remember now!” You spun on your heel to the door across from it, opening it quickly and clamoring up the stairs. 

Valerie watched your form disappear up the stairs and scoffed. “I hope your sewing skills are better than your organization skills!” She heard a series of clinking and frantic footsteps coming from whatever was above your store that you were sifting through to find the design book. She took a deep breath, taking a moment to dab at the corner of her eyes. 

Keep it together goddamnit. You didn’t lose it in front of Maxwell's business partners, or your own fucking son, so you certainly wouldn’t lose it in front of a seamstress with a shop smaller than your kitchen. You're Valerie fucking Lord. Act like it. 

The last words rang through her head like the church bells on her wedding day, the same day they were first spoken to her by her new and oh so charming mother-in-law. 

“You're about to become Valerie fucking lord.” The elder woman hissed, gripping the tearful bride’s wrist so hard Valerie feared it would break. “Act like it! Quit sniveling, smile happy for the photographers and say ‘I Do.’! It’s not that hard, my son that has to do all the heavy lifting!” The woman who somehow only came to Valerie’s shoulder but still made the psychiatrist feel two feet tall. She sneered at Valerie, with her hair perfectly done, makeup immaculate, and a designer wedding gown made to fit her body like a glove. 

“If your sorry excuse of a mother was still alive she’d be appalled by what you became.”

She laid a hand on the counter to ground herself in the situation. She was here, at your shop. She’s fine, she’s fine.

Her hand came down on the smooth cover of a notebook, her plucked brows scrunched up when she realized this was the same one you had during their consultation. Another loud thunk from above her. 

So what the hell were you looking for?

The stairs creaked as you walked down them, arms out and your focus solely on not dropping or spilling anything on the tray in your hands. Valerie felt her heart clench, you carried the tray over to the counter, gently setting it down. It held two cups of what seemed to be steaming hot cocoa, along with bags of marshmallows, big, small, and colored. 

“What-” Her voice came out watery and weak, she cleared her throat before she spoke again. “What, the fuck is this?”

You looked up at her with a sympathetic smile. “I uh, had a rough day today.” One hand came up to hold the back of your neck. “Hot chocolate usually helps me feel better, would you like some?”

She knew you were lying. She wanted to tell you to go fuck yourself. She didn’t need your help, the useless pity of a woman who couldn’t even dream of owning half of the things she did. She was Valerie Fucking Lord. 

But when she looked at the tray that you had put together, all for her, she couldn’t find the strength to say the words. 

You had already begun to set a cup in front of her. “Big marshmallows or little ones?”

Valerie finally let her voice crack as she spoke. 

“The little ones.”

-----

The pair of you drank in silence for the first few minutes. Valerie was thankful for that. Every time she tried to find her voice it would die in the back of her throat. You didn’t seem to notice, or at least you pretended not to. 

“It’s got to be hard.” You answered a question she didn’t ask. Why did you do this? “Living the way you do.”

Valerie scoffed. “Oh yes it’s very hard living with a walk in closet, endless funds and a staff that waits on me hand and foot. It’s a struggle but I do survive.”

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Of course it isn’t. You wouldn't know how I live. Because you live like this.” Valerie waved a hand around the store. “Meanwhile I live in a house so big my husband and I can live on separate sides and not even see each other for a month! I look like this-” She gestured to the designer red dress that fit her body and had a slit up the leg before pointing to you. “Meanwhile you look like-”

Her voice vanished in her throat when she looked at you, a woman who worked for her, a black woman living on her own and making it her way in a world that didn't want her to, a woman that owed her nothing besides the service of sewing, that had extended an olive branch to her when she came to you late at night because she didn’t have anywhere else to go and she repaid you in the classic Lord way. 

By being a class A bitch. 

“A chick who shops at thrift stores?” You finished for her. She looked down at the mug in her hands, her thumb trailing over the cartoon hearts that danced along the brim. 

“Like somebody who doesn’t have to hide.”

You laid your hand on the cool surface of the counter top instead. 

Your hand released the handle of your mug to reach across the counter, so close to holding her hand in yours, feeling her smooth skin and the way it would flush under you. But you worried you would instead feel the way she would rip it from your grasp, shouting obscenities and those words at you, before promising you that her husband would hear about this. 

“Just because we have different struggles doesn’t mean we don’t still go through them.” Your voice was gentle, like a wrap being laid over her shoulders that took away her tremors and shakes. It made her feel warm all over in a way she wished it didn’t. “We all get days where everything feels like it’s too much. It’s nice to have somebody in our corner when we do.”

She looked up from the mug to finally meet your gaze with a watery smile. “And here I thought I was the one with the degree in mental wellness.”

The corner of your lips tilted up and Valerie pretended not to notice the way her heart hammered in her chest. “I’m afraid I don’t know as many big words as you do Mrs.Lord, but I do know that a good cup of hot cocoa and a friend to talk to can help on a bad day.”

“Valerie.”

“What?”

Her watery smile was replaced with a confident grin. She leaned over, plucking a marshmallow from your cup and plopping it into her mouth with a wink. “My friends call me Valerie.”

There was a split second where you were frozen, simply staring at her and she wondered if she had overstepped, if she had gone too far but then a big grin grew on your face and she felt her heart pick up again. 

“Valerie it is.”

“And for what it’s worth-” Her eyes ran over the rings on your fingers, to the chain on your chest with an impish smile. “-I think you look pretty good in thrift store clothes.”

“Do I now?” You settled your head in your hands and grinned at her. Valerie squeezed her thighs together at the way you smiled, preening like a prize animal under her attention. 

“Good enough to eat.” She purred, you dipped your head back and laughed at her words. The moment was interrupted when another heavy noise came from above them. 

“Okay, this is driving me insane.” She pointed to the door you had come through. “What in God’s name is up there!”

“Oh!” You waved a hand in the air before answering. “It’s my apartment.”

“You live above your shop?” Her eyes looked ready to shoot out of her head and you snorted. 

“Well not all of us can afford a giant mansion Mrs.Lord, besides, the shop was my pop’s and when he died I took it over.” You smiled wistfully at all the memories you had in the shop growing up, as well as the tiny two room apartment you and your father lived in above it. “It just didn’t seem right to leave it.” You waved a hand through the air dismissively.

“The noises are probably from my dog.”

“You have a dog?” Valerie’s voice was a combination of fear and awe. You puffed your chest out and smiled wide. 

“Sure do! Cujo is my pride and joy. He was a rescue but he’s got a heart of gold.”

Valerie stared at you for a moment. 

“Cujo?”

“Yeah! You know, from Stephen King?”

She shook her head at your reference. 

“Seriously!? The movie came out last year, it was phenomenal!”

Valerie scoffed. “I'm afraid I have more important things to do rather than see a movie about some dog.”

You tsked, shaking your head solemnly. “That’s a sad way to live.”

She knew you meant it as a joke but the words weighed heavy on her heart. It really was.

“Do you want to meet him?”

As you asked the question she was already slipping out of her chair and making her way to the door. 

“I’ll take that as a yes then!”

Valerie never had the chance to own a dog. Her parents were always out on sets, filming movies and going from place to place for photo shoots, interviews, and premieres. A dog would fit into that life just as well as a child would. 

Even though she never had a pet, she absolutely loved dogs. 

Every time she went on the street and saw somebody walking a dog, there was an internal battle within her to stop herself from crouching down and petting whatever canine her eyes landed on.

“Uh fair warning though.” You unlocked the door and looked behind you at her. “He’s very big, and very affectionate. But he doesn’t bite! People just see him and get scared at first but-”

“I’m not some little girl stitches.” Valerie huffed. “I know not to run screaming from a puppy.”

You shook your head. “Whatever you say Val.”

Valerie was so struck by the nickname you gave her, she didn't even have the time to register the positively massive dog that jumped at you the moment the door opened. 

“Oh hello my handsome boy!” Your voices was at least three octaves higher than she was used to. “Did you miss me! I missed you!”

The dog in question was a pit bull, a large black mass with eyes that could almost be described as gold, that jumped and butted it’s head against you. 

You gripped the dog’s collar in one hand while setting the other on his rear with a little tap. “Alright settle boy, settle.” The dog plonked it’s bum onto the hardwood floor, tail wagging from side to side and it’s tongue lolled out in a happy grin. “Valerie, this is Cujo.”

Cujo looked up at her, panting and practically vibrating with energy. She looked over to you, who held such adoration in your eyes for the dog it made her own heart hurt. 

“It’s okay.” Your voice was soft, gentling coaxing her forward. “You can pet him if you’d like.”

She reached out with one hand, slowly setting it atop his head and bringing it down in one smooth motion, when she pulled it back the dog turned his snout down and lurched forward, presenting his head to her in search of more pets. 

“Looks like he’s got a favorite Lord.” Valerie ran her hands over his smooth fur, and even let him lick her! Oh if Max could see her now. 

“That’s not a hard contest.” Valerie scoffed. “Maxwell is petrified of nearly every animal and bug in existence.” 

The image alone of Cujo bounding after Maxwell in search of tummy rubs, only to see the multi-billionaire run away while shouting for help was enough to make you cackle. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“Maybe next time you all come down to get your measurements down I’ll let Cujo come say hi.” You turned to the pitbull and began talking in a baby voice again. “Hear that buddy? If you scare the funny looking business man, mama will give you a treat!”

As you spoke, Valerie flicked her eyes over the hallway that welcomed her into your home. It was lined with posters of bands she didn’t know, small mugs and souvenirs lined the bookshelf and window sills, a small quilt laid folded up on a table. The colors clashed, the theme was overbearing and cluttered, but it felt more like a home than her own house did. 

But it was a home that she didn’t belong in. 

“I think it’s time I head home.” Valerie turned to you and swore she saw a frown flash over your features before you nodded. 

“That’s probably a good idea, it’s getting late.” You turned and pat Cujo on the head once more. “I’ll be right back buddy, will you be good for me?” 

The dog let out a deep ‘boof’ as a response and you grinned. 

“Atta boy!”

Maybe it was the fact that you asked her what marshmallows she wanted, or that you took the time to reach out to her instead of using that moment of weakness as leverage like anybody else would have, or the way you smiled at her when she pet your dog, or the way you preened at her compliments, but Valerie couldn’t get out of your house fast enough to escape how you made her feel. 

Her heart didn’t stop beating frantically until your shop was nothing but a dot growing smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror of her car.

It was almost midnight, Alastair was no doubt asleep and Maxwell would be soon enough. Whether it be in his office passed out on a stack of papers or in his bedroom on the other side of the house, neither one would worry where she is. 

She turned into the parking lot of a hotel before turning it off. She didn’t bother trying to sneak in through a back exit or pay the front desk employee off, she simply waltzed in with her head held high straight to the elevator ahead. The employee didn’t bother to welcome her, or even ask if she needed a room, they knew if they asked her anything they’d be fired the next day. 

Any hotel employee in D.C knew if they saw a Lord at their establishment, they kept their mouths shut about it or else they’d end up penniless within a week. 

The moment the silver doors shut behind her, Valerie fluffed her hair, wiped away any tears and adjudged any smudges on her makeup. She stared at her reflection in the compact mirror 

You may have been allowed to see her moment of weakness, but nobody else would.

The elevator stopped and she snapped the compact in her hand shut. 

This was her deal with Max after all. They didn’t meet their side pieces at home or in public, for the good of their name and simple respect for one another. Late night rendezvous became normal for Valerie just like quick fucks before a meeting became mundane for Maxwell.

She only knocked on the door once before it was opened wide, revealing a grinning shirtless man who was built like Adonis. 

“You're late.” The man answered, the moment the door shut behind her his hands were on her, roaming her body and yanking up her skirt while his lips attached to her neck with a needy groan. “I’ve missed you so much baby.”

Robert was a model, a handsome man from the deep south who came for a fresh city start. He quickly found a job in flexing his farm-bred body and smiling pretty for the cameras. Valerie found his voice, deep grit with a southern lilt, alluring at first. But tonight it just annoyed her. 

It wasn’t the voice she wanted to hear. 

She pushed her way out of his grip with a scoff. “I’m a busy woman Robert, don’t expect me to come running every time you need to get your dick wet.”

The man began to unbutton his pants with a smile. “But I’m not the one who called for this little meet-up, am I honey?”

Her eyes, cold as ever narrowed into slits. Valerie laid down on the bed, not even bothering to take off her heels before pulling up the skirt of her dress and spreading her legs. “Why don’t you put that fucking mouth to use for once,-” She shot him a venomous look, plump lips bent in a frown. 

“-And quit it with the fucking pet-names Robert, I’m not your high school sweetheart.”

The man shook his head. Valerie was never sweet during their trysts, but she seemed especially bitchy tonight. He didn’t make an effort to ask why, instead he simply pulled her lace panties to the side and ran his tongue along the seam of her cunt. 

He looked up, already opening his mouth to make a comment on just how fucking wet she is for him, when her hands tangled in his air and shoved his face back between her legs. 

“Not tonight.” She breathed out, her eyes shut and head dipped back. She gripped his hair hard enough for him to feel a sting in his scalp, but he said nothing. “Just..not tonight.”

Valerie didn’t have the time nor the patience for Robert’s frat boy peacocking tonight, to hear him boast on how ready she is for him and how she takes him so well when all his voice would do is pull her away from the images in her mind. 

Instead of the short, gelled hair of a model between her fingers, it was yours. Long, soft, curls threaded in her hands as you sucked on her clit. The gentle husk of your voice coaxing praise and sweet words against her thigh, pulling away from her core to tease her legs with feather-light kisses. She’d want to complain, order you back on her, but with the sweet smile and look of adoration in your eyes it would vanish. 

Would your eyes flutter shut as you slide your fingers inside her pussy while you sucked on that beloved little bundle of nerves, curling just right so that she’d cry out for you, or would you watch? Eyes open and focused solely on her as she fell from ecstasy. 

It wasn’t the heavy hands of a farm boy turned coke-snorting model that gripped her plush thighs, but the slender palms of a seamstress, so used to creating beauty but now working on unraveling it. Would the cool metal of your rings bite against her flushed skin? Would you moan against her dripping core, breathe fanning out against her as you groaned out just how sweet she was?

Her hips bucked up against your mouth, thighs tightening around your head as you pulled her closer and closer to her climax. Your fingers setting an unforgiving pace inside her that she didn’t even know she needed so goddamn bad from you until you gave it to her. 

“Fuck!” Her back arched like a woman possessed, toes curling as you pulled away only for a moment to coo out her name. 

“That’s it Val-” You nuzzled between her thighs, the tip of your nose just brushing against her clit in a way that pushed her over the edge. “-cum for me, baby.”

The great Valerie Lord bit down on her lip as she came, so desperate to keep your name from falling off her lips that she felt her own blood on her tongue. 

She laid there in a haze, tremors of the after shock slowly subsiding, a small smile grazed her lips when she felt your lips press to the inside of her thighs. But the bliss was broken when the sound of a zipper met her ears along with a cocky voice crooning out. 

“I got you good, didn’t I baby?”

Her eyes shot open and sure enough, the fantasy was gone. She wasn’t finding ecstasy in the cluttered home with you between her legs, but instead laid spread open on silk sheets in a five star hotel while a dazzling super model with washboard abs in front of her. 

The bottom of her Louboutin heel pressed against his bare chest, pushing him back and back until he nearly slipped off the edge of the bed. 

“Not tonight.” She said simply, getting up and ignoring the slight shake in her knees as she did. 

The man furrowed his brows, before turning his head and scoffing. “You know if you were anybody else I’d be offended, but I guess it’s expected from a Lord. Ain’t it?”

Valerie looked at her reflection in the mirror, swiping away the smudge of lipstick against her cheek and setting each stray hair back into place until she looked just as flawless as she did when she walked in. She didn’t bother looking at Robert as she spoke. 

“If the way I fuck is so tiresome, go find somebody else cowboy, I assure you I’ll have no trouble doing the same.” 

She grabbed her purse from the night stand, opening the door before freezing in the doorway. She turned to Robert with a sultry smile. “One more thing Robert baby.”

At her sweet coo, the man puffed out his chest and grinned. “What is it sugar?”

Her face fell as she plucked a cigarette from her purse and set it between her teeth as she spoke with disdain. 

“Call me Val one more time and I’ll fucking ruin you.”

[clarabadger]

Meddling Siblings

Pairing: Oliver Wood x Reader Warning: Fluff, a pair of mischievous twins (huh, deja vu) Summary: Oliver’s older twin siblings are determined to get the two of you together. Chaos ensues. Word Count: 2478 words  Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this took so long! It was my exam week when I got this request and I’ve spent like three days on it. I hope it meets to your expectations! 

The spring sunlight filtred through the mahogany coloured curtains, it was the first day of Easter holidays and you were looking forward to spending a week with the Wood family. Oliver had asked you to come over and help him come up with some new strategies for the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match in May. After exchaning some letters with your parents, they had agreed to your plans. The train whistled as it arrived at King's Cross Station. "Y/N look," Oliver called you to look out the window, he had spotted his parents amongst the thick crowd of families. "Thomas and Eleanor have come too." Thomas and Eleanor were Oliver's older twin siblings, and both had jobs working at the Ministry. "Do Ministry workers have Easter holidays?" "Dunno, maybe they just wanted to visit," Oliver shrugged, and swung his bag over his shoulder.

Thomas and Eleanor Wood had, in fact, not just wanted to visit. After catching wind of their younger brother's best friend coming to spend a week at their house, they had immediately filed for a week long holiday to conduct their master plan. They had met you when you were in your third year, and they in their sixth, after seeing you interact with their younger brother they knew that the two of you would be absolutely adorable together. Unfortunately the twins hadn't been able to bring the two of you together while they were attending Hogwarts, to many exams to prepare for and N.E.W.T's to study for.

This was the perfect chance to bring the two of you together, and to make you both confess your feelings for each other.

You were swallowed in Mrs Wood's hug the moment you stepped down onto the platform. "Y/N, it's wonderful to see you again dear," she affectionately pat your cheek, before giving her youngest son the same treatment. "Hello Y/N, haven't seen you since you were in your fourth year," Henry walked up to you innocently, taking your trunk in one hand and hugging you with his free arm. "You haven't changed much though," Eleanor teased as she ruffled your hair with her hand. "My baby brother still giving you headaches with his Quidditch obsession?" "It's not an obsession! It's dedication!" "Not really, I like coming up with strategies," you smiled, it was true, you'd do anything to help Gryffindor win the House Cup. It would show those emerald-robed Slytherin's that Gryffindor was actually the best house. Eleanor looped her arm in yours as she led you to the car, followed closely by Oliver and his parents, who were amicably speaking to their son about his school year. "Either way, I'm happy you've come to spend the holidays with us," Eleanor grinned, though there was something behind her smile that hinted to something other than joy, "it'll give us some time to catch up, though knowing Ollie, he'll keep you busy with his nonsense." "It's not nonsense! It's dedication!", came Oliver's indignant cry which was quickly shushed by his mother, who promptly began asking about his upcoming N.E.W.T's next year. "You work at the Ministry don't you?" you asked Eleanor, "Which department are you a part of again?" "I was thinking that if we have Angelina over here, it'll let her intercept the Quaffle from Alicia," you sipped on the strawberry milkshake Mrs. Wood had made earlier that evening. "When Cho finds the snitch and goes for it, have one of the Weasley twins send a bludger her way, make her lose sight of it and then Harry can go get it, 'course he needs to be careful too." Oliver was thankful that you were writing all of this down, he hadn't really been paying much attention. In fact, he was more preocupied with you, and the way your nose twitched as you took a sip of the milkshake, or the way you moved the pencil swiftly over your notebook to draw the strategy you had meant. While you were focused on the strategies that came to your mind, and Oliver found himself noticing every detail about you. The Wood twins were in the dining room, forging their plan to get their younger brother or his best friend to confess their feelings. It seemed that morning could not come any sooner.

Mrs. Wood whistled as she mixed the pancake batter with a wave of her wand. Mr. Wood was reading the Daily Prophet, as Eleanor mixed a spoonful of sugar in her tea and Thomas was rehearsing his lines in his head. You and Oliver sat down at the table as Mrs. Wood placed a plate of pancakes on the table. Oliver yawned as he ran his hand to smoothen out his bed hair, and Mr. Wood eagerly snatched up one of the thin, flat cakes. "So, Y/N," Mr. Wood swallowed the mouthful of pancake, "do you and Olver have anything planned for today?" "I don't think we do, we might finish the strategies," you sipped your tea, "maybe test them out if we have time." Eleanor gave Thomas a look. "Maybe later I can come and help you," Thomas grinned, "I'd hate for my darling younger brother to knock you off your broom and bruise such a pretty face." You felt your face go a bit warmer. "You won't have to worry about that," Oliver clenched his jaw, "and didn't you say you had a meeting with the Minister of Magic today?" Thomas coughed into his fist, slightly frightened by the steely look his younger brother gave him. "Yes, I do," he glanced over at the clock, "look at the time, I have to get ready." Eleanor pressed her palm gently against her face in frustration.

"What was that?" Eleanor confronted her twin, "that was the worst flirting I've ever seen." "It was your idea, maybe you should've done it," Thomas huffed, "and did you see the look Olly gave me? I've never seen him look so scary." Thomas shivered as he recalled the dark glare. "Well, at least I have plan B." Eleanor opened up her trunk and pulled a black potion vial out of it. "What is that?" Thomas asked, and noted the pearly sheen of the potion when Eleanor opened it so he could take a look. "Amortentia? Don't you think that a bit much, won't Y/N fall in love with you if you make them drink it?" "I'm not going to use it on them, just going to make them smell it." "And then what?" "See if they slip up when I ask them about what they're smelling," Eleanor smiled, "once Y/N says that the Amortentia smells like Olly, it'll get him to confess." "What if it doesn't work?" Eleanor frowned, "it will."

Eleanor spotted you and Oliver sitting on the couch, holding onto one of the strategy books you had brought with you. "Y/N, I need your help," Eleanor fakes a whiny tone to her voice. "With what?" "I brewed this potion for the department, but I don't know if I've done it right," she pouted. "How can you not? You're perfect at potion making!" Oliver said in disbelief, "Hush, little brother, I didn't ask you." "Well what potion is it?" Eleanor handed you the vial, "just smell it." You gave her an odd look, before popping open the top and taking a whiff. "What do you smell?" "Firewood, petrichor and..." you stopped, cheeks flushing red, "this is Amortentia isn't it?" "No! Well, yes, but what else do you smell?" "You've brewed it just fine El, don't know why you needed me to test it," you quickly passed the potion back to her, and buried your face into the book you had been reading. Eleanor muttered a curse under her breath.

Thomas hung up his coat as he returned from the meeting. He laughed as he found his sister muttering to herself on the sofa, "Didn't work did it?" "It almost did," she denied. "Well now what do we do?" "Now we put your divination skills to good use."

The following day, Thomas found you sitting on the porch holding a cup of tea between your palms and turning it right and left, following the movements of your head. "What are you doing?" "Divination homework," you sighed, marking off something in your notebook, "Trewlaney wants us to read our tea leaves for a week and analyse them." "Ah, Tessomancy, I was rather good when I was still at Hogwarts," Thomas sat next to you on the porch, "let me see." You handed him the tea cup, and he began looking at it intently. "Well, that's fun," he grinned, "What is?" "If I remember correctly, which I do," he leaned in playfully, "says here, that the person who has been on your mind recently returns your affections." He mentally did a victory dance as your face turned red. "Yeah, that is funny," you cleared your throat, "thank you Thomas, I'll make sure to write that down." "No problem, but maybe you should tell this special person how you feel?" "..."

"Didn't work, I don't think they're gonna tell Olly anything." "Bollocks." "They did say that they were going to start testing out their strategies tomorrow." Eleanor beamed, "I know just what to do."

"This isn't a good idea," Thomas whispered, "what if they get hurt?" "They won't, Olly will catch them," Eleanor pulled her wand out her pocket, "now shut up, before they hear you." The twins had taken refuge behind some bushes on the side of their house. You and Oliver were already in the air, testing out your chaser strategy. As you dived down for the Quaffle, Eleanor muttered a jinx to knock you off your broom. With a surprised yelp, your hand let go of the handle and you felt yourself pummelling towards the ground. "Y/N!" Oliver followed you on his broom and reached out his hand to grab the front of your shirt, slipping off his own broom and landing straight on top. "Sorry! You alright?" Oliver pushed himself up on his shoulder, and took in the sight of you below him. Hair messy from the fall and a flushed face at the position you two caught yourselves in. Oliver felt his heartbeat thrum in his ears, eyes following down to your slightly parted lips. Slowly, he leaned down. His hidden siblings held their breath from their hiding spots. And then... "Lunch is ready!" Mrs Wood popped out of the house, startling Oliver off of you. "Oh, was I interrupting something?" "No mum, Y/N just fell of their broom," Oliver brushed the dirt of his trousers and held out a hand to help you up. You walked back into the house with red cheeks and hearts threatening to burst of your ribs. The twins groaned and got up from behind the bushes. "What were the two of you doing there?" there mother spoke, a baffled look on her face. "Matchmaking!" "Oh, I see.”

"What about Fred and George?" "What about them?" Oliver gave you a confused look. "I mean, what if we get them to send a bludger Roger's way, block his usual path." "That could work." Suddenly the two of you were pushed to the side, and into the closet in the hallway. "Bloody hell!" Oliver helped as his back made contact with the wall. The closet doors swung shut, and he heard his brother muttering the locking charm. "Thomas! Let us out!" Oliver banged a fist on the locked door as you stared at it in shock. "No! Not until one of you says what needs to be said!" Pure silence filled the small closet and the hallways outside. "I don't hear anything!" Eleanor mocked in a sing-song voice. "El? You're there too?" you asked. Not receiving a reply. None of you spoke a word for the next minute. On the other side of the closet, the twins had their ears pressed up against the door, in case the two decided to start whispering. "What are you two doing?" Mrs Wood turned the corner. "We are getting either Olly or Y/N to confess," Thomas hushed to his mother, not wanting to his brother and their best friend to hear. Mrs Wood nodded and joined her children, pressing up her own ear against the door. The only sound that filled the closet were your and Oliver's slightly nervous breathing. Neither of you knew what to do. "Come on, just let us out please!" you had resorted to begging. "Please just let us out Tom," Oliver ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Oh for the love of Christ!" Thomas groaned, "Just bloody tell them Oliver!" "Tell me what?" you asked, quietly. Oliver cheeks flushed, and he looked down at his feet staring at them, and not uttering a single word. Oliver's family held their breaths on the other side of the door. Internally screaming at their youngest's inability to express his amorous affections for his best friend. Your eyes lit up in recognition, perhaps they wanted you to acknowledge how good your strategies were, Oliver had barely mentioned them in front of his siblings. "I don’t expect you to feel the same way-" you began. "Oh thank god." You froze. Your best friend froze, before his eyes widened. "Not as in oh thank god I hate that you love me! I mean thank god-" "Who said anything about love," you bristled. "I mean I love you!" You both froze all over again. Oliver pressed his hands against his face, groaning quietly. Before speaking: "You're the most brilliant person I've ever met," he said, "your Quidditch strategies are incredible, and you come up with the best ideas", he frowned as he heard his older siblings groan and what sounded suspiciously like his mother muttering under their breath. He took in a deep breath, "My mind used to be all about Quidditch and the team and winning the house cup. But then I met you, and now it's not all about Quidditch, it's about your face, and your voice and you in general, and when you're around I can barely think about anything else." Oliver looks at your face, eyes silently seeking yours in the dim closet. "Please say something," he begs. "I thought were going to talk about our Quidditch skills." you muttered dumbly. "Well," he gulped, "we didn't. Do you like me back?" You stepped forward, and leaned in, softly touching your lips against his before leaning back. "Does that answer your question?" Oliver grins, and kisses you again. "Did they do it? Did they confess?" "I have no idea what's going on in there." "Did you two charm the door locked?" You pressed your face against Oliver's neck as you heard the conversation outside the closet door. "We did!" Oliver calls out, "Snogged and everything, can you let us out now?" The sound of cheering was your only answer.

[shut-up-merlin]

Hi i saw the prompt list and they are cool and i had a request feel free to deny them darling can you do 39 and 47 for drarry and if it's possible it will be harry who says this sentences to draco thanks sweetheart you can just ignore it❤

So... This got out of hand. I meant to go for a 500 word drabble, since I’d never actually written anything for Drarry before. 

Then somehow I ended up with this 2k chapter, research about the UK juvenile delinquency system and me memorising the map of the London Zoo... Oh and I may have possibly written an outline for three or four more chapters... No joke. I’m not sure if I’ll ever end up finishing it, but I do like how this turned out! Stay tuned ;) 

If anyone else feels like sending me a prompt, the list is here. 

Prompts:

You are safe now. I am here.

At least let me clean it.

.

“Really Potter, staring at the penguins again?”

Harry rolled his eyes. Of course he’d been caught staring at the little dweebs again. And of course it had been the Malfoy prat  who’d found him. 

Harry had interned at the London Zoo ever since he was old enough to apply for a summer job. He adored spending his time around the animals, adored seeing how they all had their unique personalities and little quirks. He’d spent summer after summer cleaning out cages and feeding all sorts of wondrous creatures. Harry volunteered to take up extra shifts whenever he could and would often spend his time around the animals’ enclosures long after he’d been done for the day.

Animals, Harry found, were easier to be around than people. Much, much easier. As if to prove a point, one of the most difficult specimens to have in his vicinity, had just shown up. Harry sighed and turned around.  

“Anything you need, Draco?”

“That’s Malfoy to you, Potter.”

“Sure, Draco, whatever you say,” Harry retorted, trying not to show his amusement at the blond’s scowl.  “You done for the day then, yeah? Need me to sign your papers?”

“Yup. Only twenty more days to go. I’ll be done with this shit.”

“Trust me, I’ve been counting the days, same as you, mate.”

“Not your mate, Potter.”

Harry couldn’t agree more. He didn’t respond and just walked off towards the administration tower. Whether the blonde followed him or not really was none of his concern. Harry badged into the admin tower so he could fill out Draco’s forms.  

COMMUNITY PUNISHMENT AND REHABILITATION, the document read.  

Harry signed his name next to today’s date and checked the necessary boxes. He hesitated when he had to rate Malfoy’s dedication. His hand hovered over the box labelled “adequate” for a moment, but then he ticked “outstanding” instead. Even though the boy was an utter twat, Harry didn’t really feel like putting him in a bad spot. Unlike other kids who had been ordered to perform their community services here by the juvenile court, Draco actually did his job while he was here. He didn’t slack off and was kind to the animals.  

Harry remembered when another boy had been executing a community sentence, a few years prior. They had found out he’d been twisting the warthogs’ tails. They’d kicked him out immediately, but to this day poor Mathilda still didn’t trust anyone who entered her enclosure. Harry wondered what happened to the guy. Nothing good, he hoped.  

“What’s got you frowning, Potter?”

Harry hadn’t realised he was. “Oh, nothing. All done. Here.” He handed Draco a piece of paper to prove he had actually been there today. Draco took it and quickly put it away, before heading towards the door. He turned around to look over his shoulder, his hand already on the door knob.  

“You’ve never asked why I’m here. Everyone else has. Why?”

“It really isn’t any of my business, is it?”  

“Yeah. No. I guess not.”  

If Harry didn’t know any better, he would have sworn the corners of the blond’s lips turned up a little before he left.  

Harry had wondered what had brought Draco here. He didn’t seem like he was looking for trouble. Didn’t make you check if your wallet was still in your pocket whenever he passed you in a corridor either. If Harry didn’t know better, he’d have thought the other boy had walked into the staff room by accident after getting lost during a school trip, really. Sure, he hadn’t actually said anything nice to Harry or any of their co-workers since getting here, but he had been polite to the visitors, which was more than most comm kids, as the staff referred to them.  

Harry glossed over tomorrow’s schedule before gathering his things. Oh, sweet. They’d put him in the Northern part of the zoo in the morning. That meant he’d be on duty when it was time to feed the lions. Harry checked the others’ schedules. Looks like they’d paired him up with two interns. Neville and... Draco. Great.  

Normally they only paired the interns up with regular staff members, but Harry had been here for so long that most of the regulars asked him what to do anyways. Harry loved how much faith the Zoo’s director had showed him over the past couple of years. Minerva never really showed anyone much warmth, but Harry knew she appreciated his work. Just this once, however, he wished she didn’t trust him to do a good job, because it meant he’d have to spend a day listening to the blond prat’s insults. Just great.  

The next morning, Harry’s suspicions were confirmed before he’d even entered the changing rooms. He Malfoy’s sneers from down the corridor. Judging by the stuttering response he got, Harry assumed they had been directed at Neville.  

Harry quite liked Neville. The boy was a bit younger than he was, and it was his first ever summer job. He wasn’t very good at it, though, but Harry blamed it on a streak of bad luck that somehow followed the kid around. Whenever he was hauling around bags of animal feed, one was bound to tear or he’d trip over his feet. A few days ago, when the kid went out for hay for the zebra’s once, a giant spider had climbed out, causing him to drop the bale, leaving straws everywhere.

 It was almost endearing, really, if it hadn’t been for the fact that Neville was a total clutz, so whenever he tried to tidy up the mess he’d unknowingly created, he usually ended up making a bigger one that required Harry or whoever was on duty to help him fix it. Whenever he got nervous, Neville’s clumsiness seemed to amplify. A day with Neville and Draco, Harry thought to himself, would definitely prove interesting to say the least.  

“... managed to teach you how to dress yourself, for crying out loud,” Harry heard when he entered the room, to find Neville attempting to do up the buttons of his overalls. His hands were trembling so severely, he couldn’t quite manage. 

“Good, you’re ready, Draco. We need someone to go fetch the meat from the kitchens. I’ve been told it’s done,” Harry said, in an attempt to get Draco out of here so Neville could calm down a little, at least.  

Draco eyed Harry up and down and left with a knowing smirk on his face. “Whatever you say, Potter. I’ll leave you and your boyfriend to it.”  

Harry rolled his eyes at the pathetic insult and turned towards Neville as soon as Draco had left the room. “Don’t mind him. He’s a twat.”

“Oh, yeah I know. It’s just that he... I don’t really...”

“Whatever he said, don’t pay it any mind. He gets off on tormenting people.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it either,” Neville mumbled.

“What’s that?”

“I... I just asked if he needed some ice or something to put on his bruise. It looked like it hurt.”

Harry shot him a questioning look.

“On his side. He looked like... like he’d gotten beaten up or something.”

They didn’t say much after that. Neville calmed down enough to get dressed and by the time they got outside, Draco had returned with a wheelbarrow full of meat for the big cats. He did seem to favour his left side, Harry noticed.  

Without asking the blonde’s permission, Harry took the wheelbarrow from him. They took the staff’s passageways and followed the arrows that read “Land of the Lions”. None of them said a word. Neville fumbled with the sleeves of his overall on the way there.  

Neville didn’t trip on the way to the enclosure. He didn’t push over any garbage bins, didn’t lose a shoe or walk straight into a bush instead of taking a turn. Harry should have known, honestly. He should have known that just meant Neville’s bad luck was saving itself for something big later on.  

And it did.  

Harry, Draco and Neville stood on the platform overlooking the Land of the Lions, where they fed the lions their breakfast. Harry did, rather. The others weren’t allowed this close to the platform’s edge.

Harry was about halfway through the wheelbarrow’s contents when he noticed one of the hams Draco had brought was still wrapped in plastic. “Neville, hand me a pair of scissors, will you,” Harry mumbled under his breath, so the spectators couldn’t hear.  

Harry shouldn’t have asked him.  

In hindsight, Harry probably should have asked Draco. Or he should have gotten up and grabbed the scissors himself. Or he should have just tossed the ham in, plastic and all. 

But that’s not what happened.  

Harry had asked Neville to hand them to him. And Neville did, only to trip over his feet on his way back. He tumbled over, his limbs going in every direction... until his leg hit Draco in the back of his knee. The boy lost his balance.

And fell. 

Harry didn’t realise the scream he heard was his own, when he saw Draco fly over the edge of the platform. The loud crash was followed by the screams of the spectators.  

“Draco, the ladder!” Harry shouted, already dashing towards it himself.  

He leaned over the edge only to find Draco was having trouble hoisting himself up. His left side had been hurt, Harry remembered, when he saw how the boy tried to pull himself up on the ladder using only his right arm. He had a gash in his forehead, Harry noticed. Blood was running over his cheek onto his overalls.  

The lions had been startled by their unexpected visitor, but Harry could tell by the way the lionesses started to circle around to where Draco was, that it wouldn’t take long before they’d get over the surprise.  

“Fuck it. I’m an idiot,” Harry muttered to himself, when he swung his leg over the edge and started to climb down the ladder.  

“Neville, call Dean. Now!” Harry shouted. “Tell him to open the sleeping den and keep his hand on the button so he can close it when we get in.”

Neville looked baffled.  

“NOW!” Harry shouted. He didn’t look back to see if Neville did as he told. There really wasn’t any time.  

Harry hurried down the ladder, straight into the enclosure. His heart pounded between his ears. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.  

When he reached the bottom, he saw Draco was even paler than usual, his grey eyes filled with panic. They didn’t have time for this. “Draco, listen to me. You need to calm down. You’re safe now,” Harry said. “I’m here. But we can’t stay here for much longer. When I tell you to run, you run! Got that?”

Harry assumed the whimper that escaped Draco’s throat meant yes. He grabbed the other boy’s hand and tried to look through the bushes, tried to figure out where the pride’s alpha, Neytiri was. When he saw her, Harry shouted at the top of his lungs, grabbed the nearest rock he could find and threw it at Neytiri as hard as he could. “Run!” he yelled and he dragged Draco behind him. He ran towards where he knew the entrance of the sleeping dens was, praying Neville had reached Adam. Praying that they’d get there before... It was open!  

“Faster!”  

Harry heard a snarl behind him. Neytiri must have gotten over her surprise. Shit.  

Shit!  

They were almost at the den. So close.  

He heard the thuds of lioness’ paws on the ground behind them. Closer. She was closer.  

When they made it to the den, so did Neytiri. Harry pulled on Draco’s arm and dove into it, right as the barrier started to close again. They both crashed into the wall in the back of the den.  

Neytiri snarled and clawed at the barrier.  

Harry manhandled Draco towards the small door in the back of the alcove and almost lost it when he saw it swing open.  

“Neville, thank god,” Harry breathed. “Help me get him to first aid.”

“...’m fine, Potter,” the blonde mumbled.  

“You’re not. You nosedived into a pride of lions, you idiot.”

“...No doctors.”

“Whatever.”

“Harry, please.” Draco squeezed Harry’s hand. Harry hadn’t realised he’d still been holding it. He looked down into the pleading grey eyes and hesitated.

“You’re bleeding, you hurt your head. At least... at least let me clean it?”

[talicat713]

It's Always Been Molly

John Shelby x OC

Part Four

**credits to @romelzacarnes for the GIF**

A/N: New update is here. I usually use this space to give you a little update on how the writing of this story is going. But today I am going to use it to shout out @lotsoflovefromlea. She was the one who got me into Peaky Blinders. She was one of the people who encouraged me to write and post this story. Today she announced she was taking down her blog. I’m deeply saddened by this and will miss her dearly. I hate to see a wonderful writer fall and her work be deleted. Part Four is dedicated to you today Lea! You will be seriously missed my love. Much Love 💜

Warnings: language, angst

PART ONE ; PART TWO ; PART THREE

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**If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know**

Taglist: @haphazardhufflepuff   @rebel-without-cause-x @lotsoflovefromlea  @theunderlier   @envysorrows   @healthygirlsdoitbetter  @account71453   @blindedbypeaky   @xshinytrashcanx   @wednesdayqueen-18   @chaotichurricaneoffandoms   @jrdpdlcki @lettersshapes   @rosesandrap  @jenni-jones00

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As the days turned to weeks, Molly was settling into a routine working for the Shelbys. She would wake up early to get herself ready, then pop over to find Finn. He spent most of his days with her. Of course the little boy didn’t mind because he adored Molly.

Molly tried to distract him from his brothers, but most times it didn’t work. If they were out and Finn saw either of his brothers, he would run to them and leave her for the day. She also was trying really hard to teach him how to read and write. He was getting better, but still wasn’t one-hundred percent interested.

Once the betting shop closed for the day, Polly would come to collect Finn for supper. She would stay and chat with her for a little while. Molly always watched out the window in the sitting room to see when John had left. The two of them had not spoken to each other since the family meeting. Both he and Polly were still not happy about her working for them, but she reassured Polly every day that this is what she wanted.

Once Polly leaves with Finn, Molly heads over to tidy up the shop. This usually takes her a few hours and when she’s done, she heads home to make supper for Jacob and herself.

Throughout all those weeks, John never asked Molly to help him with his kids. She didn’t know why since that’s what she has hired to do. She knew John was having trouble keeping them in order.

It wasn’t until one morning while she was looking for Finn that Polly said he was down with John. She didn’t know if Polly had sent him down there on purpose, so it would force the two of them to talk. With a sigh, Molly turned on her heels and headed to Johns. Half way she looked back at Polly, who was smiling. She was definitely up to something.

Once at the door, Molly took a deep breath and knocked. She could hear the kids running around and John shouting at them to be quiet. He opened the door surprised, “Molly what are you doing here?”

Molly looked up at him, “I’m here to collect Finn. Is he here?”

While waiting for his answer, she took a look at his appearance. He looked tired and defeated. He was only dressed in his night clothes which meant he was running behind. “Finn was...” before he could finish, she saw a little boy walk up to John, tugging on his shirt, “Daddy I’m hungry.”

John picked up the boy and whispered something to him, then set him down, and he ran off. He then looked back at Molly,” Sorry, Finn was here, but Aunt Pol picked him a little while ago. I’m sorry to rush you away, but I need to get them sorted.”

“Let me help,” she said quickly.

“Are you sure? ,” he asked back.

Molly nodded and John stepped back, so she could come through the door and lead her toward the kitchen. Molly looked around the house. It looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a while. She then noticed four pairs of eyes on her. All four of them looked like John. She could see hints of Martha in all of them, but mostly the young girl.

Molly didn’t notice her eyes filled with tears until one excepted down her cheek. She quickly blinked the rest away and wiped her cheek, hoping John didn’t see. They all stood in silence until John cleared his throat and finally spoke up, “Right kids, this is Molly. She’s going to make you breakfast whilst I get ready. Then we have to go find someone to mind you for the day.”

Before John headed up the stairs, Molly lightly grabbed his arm,” I can stay with them today. It’s what I’m here for.”

“Okay, but only if you are sure. They are a handful,” John said, walking up the stairs, not waiting for her answer.

Molly just smiled and turned back to the kids, “Okay kiddies, who wants to help with breakfast?” She instantly got four little hands up in the air.

“Well, come on then,” she said excitedly.

A little while later, John can down the stairs, only to hear the clanks to silverware on the plates, the kids speaking softly to another and Molly at the sink washing up the dishes. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the silence, sighing with relief. He also was watching Molly. He loved seeing her there in his home with his kids, and hoped one day, now that she was back, they would become her kids.

Molly had been in her own thoughts and didn’t hear John come up behind her. He put a hand gently on her shoulder, which scared her. “Shit. John! ,” she gasped. She then grabbed the dish towel and hit him with it,” Don’t you know better than to sneak up on a woman,” she chuckled.

“Sorry,” holding his hands up in defense,” I just wanted to let you know I was heading out. I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’ll tell Tommy that you're not tidying today,” he said. He then moved his hand to grab hers squeezing it.

“Thank you for doing this. I never wanted to ask you.”

“John it’s fine. You go to work. I’ll be here when you get back. Tell Polly to send Finn down when he gets to be too much,” she then looked down at their hands. She quickly pulled it away so he could leave. She was trying really hard not to let the simple gesture, let him back into her heart.

It hurt John a little at how fast she pulled her hand away, but he knew why she did it. He gave Molly a small, sad smile and turned to the kids. They had been watching the two closely. Molly was the first woman John had let into the house besides their usual nanny.

John kissed the kids on the head and headed toward the door. He had almost closed it when he heard Molly yell,” Wait John, your breakfast.”

Molly quickly walked to the door and handed him the plate with a smile. He gave a simple nod and walked down the street. Molly then closed the door and leaned her back against it, letting out a sigh.

It was getting harder for her to not fall in love with him again.

John had sent Finn down to tell Molly he wasn’t going to be home until late. She didn’t mind. The kids were very well-behaved for her. There we only a few squabbles between the two littlest ones, but nothing Molly couldn’t handle.

She had them all help her tidy up the house, then they played out back for a little while Molly fixed them supper.

After supper, the older two helped the younger two to bed while Molly cleaned up the rest of the kitchen. The house looked completely different from when she walked in this morning. Once she finished, she went to tuck all the kids into bed.

Another hour had passed before John came home. She could tell he had been to the Garrison. They must have had some Peaky business. She could smell the smoke and alcohol as soon as the door opened.

Molly was sitting at the kitchen table when she heard the door open, and John walked in. She had been looking at a photo album Martha made for John while he was at war. It had been unfinished since she had died before he came back.

He came to sit down with her, “I thought I hid that. Katie must have found it again.”

Molly looked up at him,” Why would you hide it? They need to remember her, especially the twins.” She looked down at a picture of Martha with a big belly. She still looked beautiful, even very pregnant and very tired.

John then changed the subject, “You didn’t need to clean this place. I’m sure the kids were a handful.”

Molly looked back up at him with a smile, “Actually, they were angels for me. After the way you and Pol talked about them, I was nervous. But they were honestly perfect. They even helped me tidy up.”

John gave her an amused look, almost as if he didn’t believe her. He then reached his hand out to hold hers like he did earlier that morning. This time she didn’t pull away.

“You know Molly, I really missed you,” he said as he rubbed circles into the back of her hand.

Molly’s eyes then started to water. For the first time in all these years she felt guard letting up. Three small gestures were all it took. She took her free hand to her mouth to muffle a sob, “I know. And I you, but I can’t just let you in. You broke me John. You cheated and you lied about it. Then the proof showed itself at the worst time in my life. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t stay here and watch her steal my life. I was supposed to be the one you married, the one who carried your babies, the one to love you forever. But you both stole that from me when you slept with her.”

She pulled her hand away from his and wiped her tears. John just stared at her, tears in his own eyes. He hated seeing Molly cry.

After minutes of silence, Molly stood up to leave,” I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m going to go. Let me know when you’ll need me to watch them again.”

As she walked past John, who was still sitting at the table, he reached to grab her again. Turning to her and standing, “I know I messed up and hurt you. But I’m willing and ready to make it up to you. I’ll wait as long as I need to, and that’s a promise.”

He then pressed his forehand to hers, “It’s always been you Molly. I’ve only ever wanted to be with you.”

Molly’s eyes started to water again,” You should have thought about that eight years ago John, then those kids upstairs would have been mine,” she whispered. She then gave John a soft kiss on the cheek and ran out the door.

(posted 07/11/2020)