#also i... somehow... managed to miss a completely new feature that got added in the game that i only end up knowing

[aria0fgold]

LMAO I've been using... THE WRONG RELIC SET FOR MY BOOTHILL GODDAMMIT! This is the second time now... I can't ever be trusted with building characters orz...

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 31

Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L  Warnings: Language, smoking weed, shitty parenting, mentions of death A/N: more of a filler but it helps establish stuff. *unbeta'd

【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | ao3 】

Chapter 31: Drowning on Dry Land

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

The week before her flight back, Matthew’s parents invited her over for dinner.

Waiting to greet them at the door was Mrs. and Mr. Gaplin. Matthew’s father, a Half-Maj, was a Potioneer while his mother, an Old-Maj, was a Court Scribe. They wore large, kind smiles as Mrs. Gaplin pulled her into a tight, crushing hug.

After pleasantries, she and Matthew kicked off their shoes while his parents ushered them to the dining room.

“How are you darling? '' Mrs. Gaplin asked, floating plates in their direction as everyone began helping themselves to food. “Matt wouldn’t stop talking about you since we knew y’were coming.”

She side-eyed Matthew who groaned loudly. “Did not!”

“Sure thing,” she added, which caused Matthew to slump in his chair as his parents laughed at him.

It was a nice, charming evening; filled with laughter and heartfelt conversations. His parents continued to gloat about Mathew’s achievements that he hadn’t told her. It caused him to almost get up and run out of the room from embarrassment before moving to boast about Y/N. Even Mr. Gaplin asked her regarding her OWLs which pleasantly surprised her.

A few times, Mr. Gaplin pressed a few cheeky kisses to his wife’s face as Matthew made loud retching noises.

“Disgusting!”

Mr. Gaplin laughed. “Ya sixteen. Suck it up.”

“But you’re still my baby!” Mrs. Gaplin cooed, getting up to collect the plates.

Matthew tried to look insulted but she could see the small smile that threatened his lips as jealousy nipped at her toes.

The next few days were spent staying at the Gaplin household. Matthew’s parents insisted constantly that she should stay over so they could utilize the little time they had left before leaving. At first, the idea made her feel intrusive. Although, her mother hadn’t returned to the brownstone house, preferring to sleep in the on-call rooms at the Brooklyn Memorial Hospital. It quickly got lonely and boring before Y/N finally agreed. Besides, Mrs. and Mr. Gaplin were only around for breakfast and dinner - working for the day but never failed to return; always wearing larger smiles than the previous night.

They made her feel welcomed and warm - even taking her and Matthew to the local pictures. They included her in everything, even their trivia and board games after dinner.

It was quite the change compared to her family life.

Then an identical routine ensued. She would wake up, get ready for the day; spend hours with Matthew; then twilight fell as they stayed awake into the early hours of the morning.

The day before she was due to leave, she and Matthew ran up to his room after dinner. He went to lean on top of the small coffee table, rolling up a joint as she collected her possessions scattered around his room; not wanting to leave it for the last minute.

“Fancy some grass?” He asked in a poor British accent.

“Nah,” she shook her head, “But thanks love.”

Mathew’s smile turned bashful as he stood, turning on the radio in the background. She moved to open his window which was just above the roof of his shed as she stepped out with steady feet. Perching herself down on the blankets and pillows they hauled outside the night prior, she stared at the glowing city splayed in front. From the window, The Velvet Underground flowed softly.

Matthew proceeded to hop out, sauntering over as he threw a flirtatious wink.

“Brough this,” he said, tossing the camera he’d taken from her bag. She caught it as he nestled beside her and lit the joint; placed in his mouth. Billows of smoke clouded around them while she snapped a few photos of the view.

“Ya sure you gotta leave?” Matthew whined, embers of the end of the joint sparking with another huff. “Maybe you can smuggle me. Shove me into that trunk.”

She pulled the camera away from her face, inhaling the earthy, pungent scent. Her head felt a bit lightheaded from it. “A hardcore criminal at sixteen?”

Matthew was mildly amused until a troublesome look passed through his features. “Um — name something ya miss most about home.”

Home. What a funny word — place — feeling. Home was supposed to be something that made your heart glow, feel warm and happy — by that definition, a year ago home would’ve been her little house back in Toronto with the beautiful maple trees swaying in the backyard. Or home would’ve been Ilvermorny and its tall ivory walls. But now, London, or maybe just Hogwarts, had become her home. The scrolls around the Herbology greenhouse, the library, sneaking around past curfew; the Black Lake, Hogsmeade — Lily, James, Marlene, Dorcas, Remus, Regulus…

Unsure of what to say, she opted for, “You?”

Matthew rolled his eyes, bringing the joint to his lips. “Real charmer.” Then, smoke surrounded them. “But really.”

“Why?”

“C’mon! I need an answer! — I don’t know… say somethin’ like… lobstah.”

She chuckled. “Lobster? Really?”

“Or coffee from ya regular cafe.”

Deliberating it for a second, lips tugged up. “Coffee Crisp.”

He snorted. “A candy bar? Really?”

“Or Ketchup chips. Haven’t seen them in London yet.”

“That’s fucking disgusting.”

And then the silence returns but it makes Matthew shuffle in his spot. He blurted out, “Go — more brit insight.”

Y/N felt a bit hazy from the secondhand smoke. “More? You’ll get bored.”

“I won’t,” Matthew replied quickly, sounding oddly sincere. “Please, just… go on. Tell me everything.”

“Um… a friend of mine says crikey a lot. I think it just means to be mildly surprised? — They don’t say bloody or blimey as much as you’d think… Oh! Tea — they really drink that much tea. Also —”

Continuing, Matthew shut off again, going completely silent — not once speaking up or adding funny commentary; only staring at her, simply watching.

“Okay,” she turned to take the joint from his hand, “You're freaking me out. Spill, what's up?”

“S’nuthing.”

Whack!

“Jeez! Would ya stop wiv that! Gonna kill me…”

“Spill.”

“Fine! It’s just that…'' Matthew shifted, obscuring his face. Maybe if she didn’t feel so fuzzy, or if there wasn’t the smoke coming from the blunt or her small headache forming, she would’ve picked up on all the little signs. “It’s just —” he sighed, “I wanna hear ya talk — commit it to memory.”

“Obsessed with me? Not new.”

But that seemed to trouble him more. “It’s just… I don’t know if or when I’ll hear it again…” He looks up to the city in front. “Ya my… best friend. Could never forget ‘bout ya, but s’hard — keepin’ in touch.”

She pats him, encouraging and smiling. Her voice was hopeful, so much so that it made Matthew’s lip quirk up. “We’ll find each other. Always.” She said simply. “You and me, we’re like… salt and pepper. Soap and water — Hansel and Gretel!”

“Fuckin’ Dr. Seuss,” he smiled, that worried look fading away.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

The warm summer breeze flowed around them, just as the sun peeked above the airport. Expanse, clear skies with blue mingled with deep purples and pinks shimmered against the metal from the building.

“Gonna miss ya,” Matthew muttered into the crown of her head. Her mother didn’t want him to come, but Y/N simply ignored that request as he came to send her off.

“Don’t get mushy on me now,” she joked but felt her throat become tight.

“Betta get goin’ — Doc’s lookin’ like she’s ‘bout to butcher me if ya don’t.”

She snickered, pushing Matthew’s shoulder as she picked up her bags, walking backwards while waving. “Write me!”

“Course I will! Until next time!”

“Till next time!”

Once the plane took off, awkwardness swelled among the two women. Not once had her mother said anything to her — not to apologize or see how she was doing — although they never really did talk much. Honestly, she half-expected her to leave her in New York with the Gaplins. Easy to dispose of her.

The next few days Y/N, poorly, attempted to fix her sleeping schedule. It was a miracle that she managed to get up before dinner as her head poked into the master bedroom.

She cleared her throat, feeling herself swaying in place. “Um — hi. I’m making dinner tonight.”

Her mother was dressed in a simple, yet sleek dress. She was bent over, putting on high heels as she looked up.

“The hospital is throwing a party for me — the surgery was a success.”

“That’s amazing! Er — will you be back for dinner though? It’s just that I leave soon and... two parties are better than one.”

She considered her for a long time, eyes mostly distracted by her hair slowly changing to a different colour.

“Sure. But I have to go now.”

“Right, sorry, have fun.”

Thudding down the stairs and the door clicking shut, she followed not too long after. Making her way to the kitchen, she picked up a dusty cooking book, blowing off the dust and cracked it open; flicking through the pages.

Deciding on the seemingly easy noodle dish, she rushed out of the house to the local grocery shop for ingredients. It would be the first time they would be spending any time together. It had to be perfect. But she overestimated that no matter how closely she stuck with the dishes’ instructions, the outcome was a disaster.

The noodles somehow were rock hard. The sauce she made looked grey and was chunky, similar to badly mixed concrete and it tasted horrid. At one point, even the stove exploded into flames as she had to grab her wand and use magic to extinguish the fire.

Potions... She could use a cauldron, use multiple ingredients, make some of the most complicated spells and even had tricks of her own to make the process easier but she couldn’t make a simple dish…

Her face screwed together as she glanced up to the clock; she was going to come home soon as the dinner she made was disastrous. She panicked, cleaning up everything in a rush and decided to order food.

Waiting patiently at the dinner table, her eyes fluttered up to the clock in anticipation. She felt giddy, a surge of excitement rattling throughout her bones at the prospect. Her mother wanted to spend time with her! And she should be home any minute.

But then a minute turned to two, then five, ten, twenty, thirty — then an hour ticked by.

And then another.

Y/N got up, her chair squeaking loudly. Losing all her appetite, she went to her room, sleeping in early.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 20th, 1976

Going through the potential NEWT courses she could take was the highlight of her day. The possibilities were endless.

Wanting to take Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfigurations and most of all, Potions, left her excited for the school year.

But the more she thought about the upcoming school year or potential courses, she was left to contemplate what ther5 future entailed.

Was she ready to give up magic? Something that fundamentally altered her life and moulded her into what she was? Magic was her essence, something she developed and nurtured — but to put her life in danger…

Rethinking that word again: home… Was London her home? Was she willing to leave, move again to be safer? But practicing magic around the world these days for New-Majs was dangerous. Or the potential danger she would put her mother in if she continued with it?

But magic… Maybe home wasn’t necessarily a place — but rather something she carried. In all sense, magic made her heart glow, feel warm, safe and happy — it felt like what home was supposed to feel like. And the idea of being ripped away from it, forcing herself to live a normal, Muggle life…

Magic was home.

So die, but have what she cared and loved most was by her side or live a dull life without magic — ensuring her life would be miserable.

There was a clicking of shoes in the hallway that snapped her out of her thoughts. Her mother came walking by.

Lips smushed shut into a tight line, still annoyed from the other night but was determined to spend some time with one another.

“I was planning to go to Diagon Alley for the first time — to get my textbooks... '' She stood awkwardly. “Do you want to come with me?”

“I can’t,” she replied, so quickly that it had Y/N almost scoff in disbelief. “Work. But have fun.”

She sighed but still waved her off and said a small, ‘I love you, stay safe.’ Her mother only gave her a look, something unreadable and left without a word. With a heavy heart, she grabbed her purse filled with gold and left for Diagon Alley.

Passing through the Leaky Cauldron was an adventure in itself. The shabby, tiny pub was jammed with wizards and witches zipping by.

Diagon Alley was bustling with so much magic she could feel it pumping through her blood. Students were hypnotized by the shiny new Firebolt on display; others were giggling, running around with shopping bags while older witches and wizards took a scroll. Her head turned in every direction; walking into the Apothecary, a potions ingredients and book shop.

Emmeline was there. She gave a tight-lipped smile which she returned.

Emmeline by every definition was nice, extremely kind and neither girl ever had a problem with the other. James was the problem and Y/N would gladly stay out of their feud.

Passing clamouring students, she managed to get all her supplies but stopped in front of the potion ingredients. She took a few minutes, flicking through the Advance Potions textbook and grabbed everything listed needed for most of the potions.

She made her way around Diagon Alley, going through many shops. The shelves were stacked high to the ceiling with books and materials. She spent more time than necessary there but it was beautiful.

As she was paying for her Herbology textbook, a large boom! rumbled the ground. Y/N took her bags, ready to sprint to the Leaky Cauldron but the shouts caught everyone’s attention.

“WE WILL NOT BURN WITH THEM!” A crowd of witches and wizards shouted. Their wands were transformed into microphones as a few shot fireballs up in the air.

“What’s happening?” A woman asked an old wizard. He only shook his head, grabbing a copy of the Daily Prophet, handing it to the witch.

On the front page, there were moving photos of people protesting, similar to the wizards and witches currently shouting.

‘Protests Break out in Light of Muggleborns and Halfbloods Burned Alive

Voldemort and his followers have been attacking Muggleborn and ‘blood traitor' families with the usage of fire. By burning them alive, or their houses. They bonded the witch or wizard with magic, making it impossible to apparate or leave their houses. Their broken wands were found at the scene.

Since then, protests all around Britain and Scotland have broken out. The Ministry of Magic —’

“WE WILL NOT BURN WITH THEM!” The crowd chanted.

Rage filled every inch of her body as she stomped out of Diagon Alley.

If she wanted to stay in the magical world, she had to be the greatest at whatever she did, because if she wasn’t, someone of her status was never going to get anywhere.

Magic was home, and she wasn’t going to let them take it from her. She didn’t want to surrender. They weren’t going to take that away from her.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

Immediately after Diagonal Alley, she began working; taking in her thoughts from earlier to heart.

Making sure to cover any windows from prying eyes, Y/N fiddle with first with new charms. Still unassured by her abilities in Charms, she considered taking another class before realizing all the different routes it led to. To become a Healer, Auror or Potioneer, she needed Charms.

Multiple charms backfired, causing them to ricochet off the walls, leaving a dent or chipping the wallpaper.

After trying out more than half the Charms in the book, there was one spell in particular that she attempted to cast many times, but without fail, was never able to properly cast it. Frustrated, her hand made a sharp flick and the spell spurted out instantly.

She tried again with the same hand gesture. To her astonishment, the charm produced easily. Quickly, she jotted down the note in her book.

Next, she glossed over her Transfigurations and Defense Against the Dark Arts book until her eyes caught onto the word: werewolf.

She learned briefly about werewolves, but that was in third year. And now that she knew a werewolf, it would be good to rehash it.

A werewolf, also known as a Lycanthrope, is a non-magical or magical being who transforms under the rising of the full moon. However, non-magical beings have a greater risk of dying rather than turning.

As the name suggests, werewolves are closely related to the non-magical animal, wolves. However, they have distinct characteristics that make them easily identifiable from wolves.

She flipped the page.

Wolfsbane flowers are poisonous to the non-magical world but it has been proven to have no effects on werewolves like they do on wolves. Werewolves are immune from the poison they emit and there are reports that Wolfsbane flowers help alleviate symptoms.

She underlined that section.

It’s a uniquely magical illness known to spread by saliva and blood. Werewolves are dangerous, blood-thirsty beasts — she flipped the page.

They cannot choose to transform and will no longer retain their human mind. Given the opportunity, they would slaughter their loved ones — flipped the page.

A mixture of powdered silver and dittany applied to bites help seal bite wounds. It’s also commonly put in liquid and digested in anticipation of full moons to help with the symptoms of transforming.

Y/N’s face scrunched as she continued to read.

There is no known cure Potion used to help treat lycanthropy.

She felt oddly intrusive knowing parts about Remus’ condition. But then questions arose. How were there no Potions of any kind there to help werewolves during their transformation?

Pushing the thought away, she turned to the cauldron, picking a potion to brew. They all were fairly easy, some she’d even done before just by playing around. But one potion that grabbed her attention was Draught of Living Death. Even at Ilvermorny, that potion was notoriously difficult.

Starting up the cauldron, she grabbed hold of the sopophorous bean. However, it kept jumping when she tried to cut it. She quickly resorted to another method, running down to her kitchen and grabbing the handheld garlic press, placing the bean inside, squishing it down as so much juice spurted out, even going all over her clothing.

The potion turned into the light lilac like suggested. But then as she stirred, her potion quickly became ruined as she restarted immediately.

Hours ticked by; several items in her room were Transfigured into cauldrons, as she poured the existing solution into the nine other cauldrons as she conducted her experiment.

Stirring counterclockwise was a sham, so she stirred clockwise. Nothing, the potion went bad. The next cauldron, she stirred counterclockwise and then clockwise, alternating between every stir. It showed promising progress before it turned a bright red after the seventh stir, bubbling over.

The next cauldron, she stirred counterclockwise, then clockwise after the seventh stir as the potion turned a pink pale. That’s what the book said would happen. She quickly cleared the rest of the cauldrons, pouring in the pink liquid just in case.

She continued to stir until it became a clear liquid. Surely, that was good enough but she could never be sure. After all, she didn’t know if this was what it was supposed to look like.

Deeply immersed, she hadn’t realized how late it got.

She laid on her bed, her light on as she read the scribbles on the margins of the books she'd penned. The textbook was outdated and everything she’s written down, there were easier ways to perform spells, create Potions and more. The other books must’ve been outdated too.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 22nd, 1976

Today, her attention was drawn to her Herbology textbook as she flipped right to the medicine section. Y/N had sneakily stolen a few of her mother’s medical journals as she scribbled down notes.

She flicked through the diagrams. Wizards and No-Majs were different when it came to their bodies and sickness, she knew that, but their anatomy was still the same.

An opera played in the background as she sat in front of the television. It filled the silence as her mother came from behind her, creeping her way closer to the door.

Y/N called out from where she sat. “Care to join me?”

“Can't, work.” She grunted out.

She placed the pen down, full attention drawn to her. “I only have a few days until school starts… you can’t spend some time?”

Her mom wasn’t looking at her, ostensibly staring at the floor, anywhere other than her face.

“It’s not that interesting, but um - I need help with medical terms and illnesses. You’re the best at that!”

“I can’t,” she said roughly. “Can't you see? You have to stop bothering me when I’m busy.” And then she left again, leaving her alone. Y/N would’ve been more bothered had she not been so focused on her studies.

There was a pattern.

In the Herbology textbook, in the werewolf section, there were a few ingredients used to help alleviate symptoms of Lycanthropy.

Dittany, Powered silver, Powdered Moonstone, Aconite…

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 26th, 1976

“Do you want to —” “Work.”

“But you always have work… can’t you take some time off?”

“You know it’s important to me. Why do you keep trying to limit that?”

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 29th, 1976

She was partially through her Potions and Charms textbook. It was all she could fixate on.

Deciding to take a break, Y/N went to stretch, getting up to talk to her mom who again, was getting ready to leave. She opened the honey-coloured wood draw close to the door. She pulled out a set of keys, fixing her appearance in a nearby mirror.

She had already opened the door.

“Hey mom, I was thinking of getting lunch… Will you be back soon?”

But, there was faint muffling outside the door.

“Ready for our date?”

Y/N, desperate, seized hold of her wrist, pleading. “Please, I leave in a day.”

“I'll make it up to you,” mom replied, “I promise.” And then, the door clicked shut.

Again.

She stared at the door, trying to regulate what she was thinking.

What made them worthy of her time when their’s were limited.

Robotically, Y/N turned to walk to her room, her hip bumped into the drawer which hadn’t been fully closed. Her eyes flew to it, about to push it in as she caught a flash of white.

Yanking it open, she swore her heart could’ve shattered. White envelopes filled the draw; her familiar handwriting scribbled on top of each letter. She picked one up, twisting it over to the flap.

It was unopened.

She picked up another. Unopened.

Then another. Unopened.

Unopened.

All of them were unopened, sealed. Hardly tampered with and there was hardly a wrinkle.

Was there something wrong with her? Something so disgraceful that made her so disgusting that people kept forgetting - pushing her away? Like an insidious disease.

Was she truly that unloveable? That much of a nuisance? What made someone else so much more important than her?

It was too much to process but if she had to describe the feeling, it was like drowning on dry land.

Whatever home was, it shouldn’t feel like this: cold, lonely, sad.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

【 Next Chapter 】

Slang dictionary (+ a bit of history bc i didn’t realize how many ppl didn’t actually understand what I was talking about in other chaps):

Coffee Crisp = a very popular chocolate bar sold in Canada. It was a variation of a treat made by a company from the UK. It was briefly introduced to the UK in the 60s but was pulled back because people thought it was too similar to Kit Kat. From what I know, Coffee Crisp is not commonly found in England (I've never seen it in stores) but it’s sold in Scotland.

Candy bar = US term for chocolate bar / chocolate

Grass = during the 60s - 70s, the term 'grass' was very popular slang for weed in New York bc it featured in vogue.

And yes, the British do drink that much tea.

© gotkindabored 2021. Do not repost or modify

[nocturnaldivinationsfallingstars]

A Stray Bullet Part 5

Fandom: Gotham Characters: Victor Zsasz, female!reader, James Gordon. Warnings: Swearing, mentions of someone dying in a car accident.  Summary: The reader is James Gordon’s sister and works for the GCPD and is dating Victor Zsasz. The reader has kept it a secret from her brother, until one day when she takes a bullet that was meant for him. Victor then shows up at James’ place to see the reader. Word count: 3689 A/N: I had to re-work the ending to this part as I added new parts to it.

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other a couple of times to relieve the pain you were starting to feel from having been standing for far longer than your body wanted you to be, your head hung low with your eyes cast to the dark wooden floor. You were staring at a spot where a shard of glass had slipped between the grooves of two bits of wood, finding it interesting all of a sudden. Balling your hands into fists by your side and then relaxed them, wiggling the stiffness from your fingers to expel the tension. You thought about all the ways you could possibly answer his persistent questioning on the subject. You could always tell him the unbridled truth about your relationship with Victor, of course, you’d omit more than a few private details about the matter. But realistically, what good would telling him the complete truth really do? Apart from causing an explosive argument to break out between the two of you, and even then he’d insert himself more forcibly into your personal affairs.

James hadn't always been that way, he used to give you some semblance of privacy when growing up. In fact, he had only been this way since your father had been killed in the car accident with a drunk driver a good few years ago now. Inserting himself into your life whenever something dangerous came along, becoming overprotective and doing whatever he could to make sure you're safe. When he became a detective at the GCPD it only seemed to amplify his need to keep you safe, and while it was sweet knowing that your brother is always going to be there, you felt as if it was a bit too much.

And well, Victor Zsasz just so happened to be 'something dangerous'. James' reaction to you dating the famed hitman that quite literally shot you would set off a rather volatile reaction. There was no way for you to predict how he would act. Not to mention he had a temper that needed to be kept in check, which he was doing so well with.

This meant James needed to know all about it, right? So he doesn't lose his temper? He should know, he's your brother after all and not to mention you usually told him everything. The good and the bad, well to an extent. This was different, more personal and gave way to more chances for James to lash out at you or Victor or both. It wasn't as if you could keep putting it off, since he'd find out about it sooner or later. Later would be a huge mess, however, telling him sooner could be just as bad. Perhaps you could settle on telling him half-truths? It wouldn't make him angry if you let some details slip while keeping the key ones close to your chest.

The most difficult part was trying to mentally convince yourself to do it. To tell him the truth, no matter how angry he is going to be about you keeping it a secret. Or at the very least to give him something small to go off of, anything at all to keep him from questioning you further. The choice was hard to make, but it needed to be made, and you were the only one who could make it.

With a firm nod of your head at your decision to tell him half-truths, your tongue shot out between your lips as you tilted your head to the side and finally managed to tear your gaze away from the glass shard between the floorboards and over to the couch where James currently resided. His arms crossed over his chest still, tapping away at his upper arms with his fingers impatiently, waiting for you to answer. You could tell he wanted to ask again and if you didn't give an answer he was going to be displeased with you.

"Okay," you breathed out to calm yourself, flexing your hands once more. "Grace was right, I am dating someone." You begrudgingly admitted in the hopes that the thick and heavy tension that fell around you and James like a thick blanket of smoke within the last couple of minutes would clear, and give way to something that would make breathing feel less like a chore than it seemed to feel like in this very moment. 

Finally, admitting your secret to your brother seemed to make little to no difference, if anything it felt as if the tension had got far worse between you and James. It felt it coiled around your chest like a boa constrictor choking out its prey, making it exceptionally hard for you to breathe. You felt the full weight of your anticipation towards his reaction resting heavily on your shoulders, making you feel like it was getting harder to breathe.

You were hoping to blame the sudden feeling of weakness that began to wash over you on the fact that you've been shot twice and not on the fact that you've started to really worry. Your fingers curled and uncurled multiple times at your side, then pressed the palms of your hands against your thighs and stared at him. Waiting, watching for any hint of surprise, annoyance, anger, just anything to show you what he’s feeling.

"You're dating someone?" he asked, his gruff voice gaining your attention before you could allow your mind to wander. There were no underlying negative emotions as he spoke to you, still the tension remained and was in no way alleviated. In fact, it felt far more stifling now than moments ago when you admitted your secret aloud.

"Yes, I am." you answered in a low voice that's barely above a whisper. A single nod was all you could manage, taking a slow and small step backwards so that the back of your legs hit the soft cushions of the couch behind you. You automatically sat down as soon as you felt them, your hands going to your hap where you intertwined your fingers and rubbed your left thumb with the pad of your right nervously.

You averted your gaze, there was no way you could bring yourself to look at him. Not only that, but you could sense the disappointment dripping in his voice and radiating off of him, he tried his best to hide it, but you could still sense it. "Who is it?" he demanded, his voice raising even though he tried to fight the anger that boiled in his veins. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see his knuckles starting to turn pale from how hard he's gripping at the fabric of his jacket.

Oh, how you regretted the words that came from your mouth.

A grim look darkened the features of your brother, who is very obviously irked about all the secrecy already. "Who is it?" The sound of his right foot tapping against the floor sent a shiver of worry down your spine as soon as you heard it. Somehow you missed the rapid movement of his leg bouncing up and down anxiously until now, and for a brief moment you allowed yourself to wonder about how you missed such a simple yet very noticeable action. However, that thought was soon dragged away from you when your brother grunted, thoughtful about his next words. "How long have you two been dating?" You could tell his anger was burning just beneath the surface of his skin, itching to get out, wanting to be known, but he had control over it. For now.

"A few months now," you had hoped that you'd never get to witness his full anger in your lifetime. However, you were clearly heading southbound to face it head on and be on the receiving end of it, none of which gave you much comfort right now. "I also can't tell you his name." You felt like you had been put under a microscope, almost as if all of your expressions, movements, etc, were being analysed for any hints of a lie. 

James sat next to you quietly and rubbed his wrist with his hand a couple of times before yet another grunt escaped from his throat, he pushed his jacket aside with his hands and then placed them on his hips. He pushed himself up from his place on the couch, "A few months?" He moved to stand in front of you, pausing a mere couple of seconds with his back facing you before he turned sharply with a burning gaze that made your skin crawl as the invisible flames licked at your flesh violently.

"Well, actually, if you want me to be more accurate, it is more like eight months." You corrected sheepishly, ducking your head and raising your shoulders to your ears, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

"Eight? Eight fucking months?" He said slowly to get his mind around the news. You nodded your head in response and sucked your lower lip between your front teeth. You didn't know if you should say something or not, so you settled for keeping your mouth shut. "Jesus - fucking - Christ, you've not only been dating someone for eight whole months without even so much as a word about it to me. But you can't even tell me his damn name." James ran his hands through his short brown hair, "or is it because you won't tell me? Hmm? Can't or won't tell me?" He said in an accusatory tone and extended his arm out in front of himself, pointing a large index finger at you. "Because I have got to admit; it doesn't feel like you're being entirely honest with me [Y/N]." With a puff of air, you pressed your lips together into a thin line. Finally, managing to gather the courage to look him in the eyes. You still can't bring yourself to tell him who you're dating, but at least you told him you're dating someone.

You reached up and slapped his hand from your face, "I won't tell you." You growled out through gritted teeth.

“Okay, fine,” he huffed out angrily and threw his hands in the air. “Keep being stubborn.

Rolling your eyes, you shifted your body to stretch out along the couch now that it was free. Your side and shoulder throbbed, the phantom pain of the bullets tearing through you made you shiver involuntarily, "Jim, I know you want to know who it is, but I do need some privacy in my life you know." You shot back, suddenly feeling less scared about his underlying anger issues.

"Okay, I get that. But what if they're dangerous? What then?"

You stared up at him, mulling the question over and hummed, "he could very well be dangerous." He shook his head in disbelief to your answer, you answered so calmly, like it was a normal day-to-day thing to talk about. You continued to stare up at him, jutting your lower lip out into a pout, and nodded your head in acknowledgement to his question. It wasn't like you were fully admitting that Victor was dangerous, however you received a dark look from your brother which made you choke back a small laugh of amusement at his attitude towards the whole thing.

“Can you stop joking around for one damn minute?!” James snapped at you out of frustration for the second time that day. “This is a serious discussion. 

There was no way you would joke about something like that when you told him that your boyfriend could be dangerous. After all, you knew very well that he was, but you found it exciting and hot. Not that you would admit that very personal fact to your brother, or Grace for that matter. You didn't want to deal with them judging you. "I wasn't joking when I said that, Jim. I was simply saying that knowing could be dangerous." You shrugged and paused, tilting your head to the side as the gears in your mind started to turn as you tried to think of something that would reassure your only surviving family. This time, however, your voice came out much quieter than before. "I can handle myself. Nothing bad will happen to me while I am with him.”

"Right," he murmured unconvincingly, his dark eyes drawn to the bloodied bandages wrapped around your shoulder and side, just peeking out from under the black fabric of your clean shirt. "And that's why you're here," he gestured your way, "because you can take care of yourself. Okay, yeah. Sure." It was clear that the way you held yourself, like a bird nursing a broken wing, did very little to convince him that you could take care of yourself. He didn't even need to say that you could barely walk and take care of yourself right now aloud, his unspoken point hung in the air between the two of you like an axe pendulum swinging violently ready to hit someone.

James waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss the conversation and blew a heavy breath of air from his lungs. "Just get some rest, we will talk about this in the morning. And you better give me answers."

"That was my plan," you yawned out. You felt exhaustion once again wrap its arms around you tightly. A small noise of satisfaction escaped your lips as you stretched your legs out in front of yourself, relieving the stiffness you felt in your joins. "You're not dad, Jim," keeping your tired dull eyes on your brother who turned his back on you and rolled his shoulders as he went to leave the living room with a quiet grumble about something you couldn't quite catch.

He had only just stepped foot out of the large living room when the loud generic ringtone of your phone rang out through the room, causing your breath to catch in your throat. "Who the hell is that?" James spun back around and stood in the alcove, his eyes scanning the room quickly for the locations of the sound. He most likely thought that he had dropped his phone in all the commotion from earlier, or perhaps Barbara had left hers here. You were hoping he didn't think it was yours and that he'd leave it and go straight to his room.

Your eyes darted towards your neatly folded trousers resting atop your boots and then back to your brother who followed your gaze with his eyes the next time you looked back over to where your phone lay. "[Y/N], who is that?" He repeated the question, taking a large step back into the room.

"That's Grace calling." you squeaked out. Of course, you were lying, Grace rarely called outside work hours. That was, unless it had to do with something important, like your case. You knew exactly who was calling you, and your brother apparently picked up on the lie as soon as it tumbled past your lips. He's always been good at picking up on your likes, and it was infuriating to say the least. The rise of your voice did nothing to make the lie any more believable to your brother’s ears.

"Is it him calling?" The question itself didn't give off the vibe of something you should be answering; it may as well be a rhetorical question since he already knows the answer. He was smart enough that he didn't need you telling him something he already knew. Instead, you chose to shake your head quickly, shooting up into a sitting where you instantly leaned forwards as if you're getting ready to race him to where your phone continued ringing kept coming from. Much like you and James would do while growing up and one of you wanted to use the landline before the other. His eyes narrowed at you as he watched the sudden shift in your body language.

You sat rigid on the edge of the couch cushion. Of course, it had to be Victor calling you, and now James knew that it's someone important to you. He rapidly closed the distance between himself and the location of your phone. Just as he swept your trousers up in his hands and started to search them, you lunged forward, and he turned his back on you, making you collide with his back. He pulled the phone out of the front pocket, but as soon as he did it stopped making a noise. James's brows raised as he looked down at the small square that lit up for the longest moment before it dimmed and went black.

"For the love of god, Jim! Can I please have my phone back?!" You sprang away from him and teetered back a couple of meters. You hoped to hell he would pass the phone back to you before Victor called again, which he would do since you didn't answer the first time around, and he must be worried about you after what happened at the GCPD. "Please?!" You clasped your hands together in front of yourself in a pleading gesture as he turned to you, phone in hand.

“It is him, right?” James asked again, at this point you were getting tired of the repetitive questions. He pressed you for an answer because deep down he knew he was right.

"Yes. It is him." You answered curtly through gritted teeth. Your fingertips and nails pressed into the skin of your knuckles so hard it was beginning to hurt and put strain on your fingers.

A playful smirk made its way onto James's lips as his eyes darted down to the small screen on the front of your phone, the screen still black since last time. "Does he call you every night?" He hooked the corner of his thumb under the lip of the phone and flipped it open with ease to reveal the screen, which cast a white and blue hue of light over his face. His thumb hovered over the buttons that are far too small for his giant man thumbs, returning his curiosity filled eyes back to you.

"No." An obvious lie. “He doesn’t call me every night.” Another blatant lie.

Humming thoughtfully, he pressed the dark grey button in the middle of a small cluster of buttons to bring up the other options on your phone. His eyes darting back and forth between you and your phone as he pressed the smaller arrow keys surrounding the grey button until he landed upon the call log. "Jim!" You snapped at him, tearing your hands apart to reach out and snatch your phone from his grasp, but he pulled his hand away with a click of his tongue.

"I am not doing anything," he teased, the smirk on his face only growing wider with the way you're acting, like it amuses him. You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest, stamping your foot on the floor like a child being told they couldn't have any more candy before going to bed.

"Relax, I am just playing with you." He sighed out and was about to press one of the buttons when the small black phone in his hand buzzed to life, the screen lighting up and garnering his attention again. The words 'V calling...' displayed on the screen. "Hello?" James shot you a questioning look as he pressed the green button alight on the keypad without hesitation, picking up in mere seconds of the melody starting up. "Hello?" He asked again, pulling the phone away from his ear and looking at the small object in confusion.

Reaching out again, you took advantage of him being distracted and took your phone away from him. "Stop being a fucking jerk, Jim!" yelling angrily at him as you slammed the phone closed to end the call. You could only imagine the look on Victor’s face when your brother answered instead of you. James held his hands up, his brows furrowing.

"Your friend or boyfriend didn't even answer." He told you, lowering his hands as you stood there glaring at him. "And who is V?" You rolled your eyes, curling your fingers around the casing of your phone, holding it to your protectively.

"He didn't answer because you answered my phone and not me." You said defensively, "and it’s honestly none of your damn business who 'V' is! You need to stop acting like dad and more like my fucking brother. Not only that, but you need to let me have my own damn life!" That came out sounding a lot harsher than you intended it to, so you slapped your free hand over your mouth in a failed attempt to keep the words in. Obviously it was too late, and the damage was already done. You stared at him with wide, worry-filled eyes. 

James nodded and took a step back to give you some space, an apologetic look on his face. "I am just concerned about you. And I am trying to keep the only family I have left safe and alive." With that he turned and walked away, leaving you standing in the middle of the living room with your hand over your mouth staring after him. You only dropped your hand from your mouth when you heard the click of the light switch and the light went out throughout the apartment. "Just get some sleep," he called back to you before slamming the door to his room shut.

Shuffling backwards while being as careful as you could be as to not step on the remnants of glass scattered across the floor, you sat back down on the soft couch cushions and leaned back. Your eyes adjusted to the surrounding darkness, you could almost make out a few shapes here and there, a couple of shadows as well.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered out after him. You pulled the scratchy grey blanket from the back of the couch and over your shoulder, covering your lap with it. You felt bad for what you said to him, you didn’t mean to sound so harsh when you said it.

Tag list; @sunlitwritings​, @nheirei, @the-ramblings, @milly-louise

[teashoptiramisu]

Todosibs (and other BNHA) rec list

I started another BNHA fic reclist and it got long so I'm putting it here as I tend to.... on my ATLA sideblog. Don't worry about the logic of this too much, haha. Anyways, a lot of these are pretty well known, but maybe some are new to you! I'm also giving pitches for why I like them geared towards specific requests, and I'll list the original request at the bottom of the post so if you guys have further recs that meet these requirements let me know!

Not all who wander are lost -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/17950646 -- 27k words, complete -- Has probably been rec’d here before, and I was re-reading it today as a treat, I still love it a lot! All four Todoroki siblings run away together after Rei burns Shouto. I love the characterization, and how the author draws on their own experience as a foreigner working in Japan, and how they did their research on missing child cases and child homelessness in Japan (it doesn't go hugely in depth but I appreciate the authors' notes discussing this, even if it's, well, incredibly tragic. There’s more light hearted cultural notes as well!)

make this feel like home -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/21852745 -- 27k words, complete -- we already rec'd this to you but adding it here for completion. A character-focused Todosibs fic with EXCELLENT portrayal of sibling relationships. I re-read this one A LOT.

Dragon Head, Snake Tail -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195510 -- 61k words, incomplete -- Another Todosib favorite that deals with canon and also an AU in which Rei got a divorce and everyone mostly grew up away from Endeavor. I love how the sibling relationships are depicted, but I also love how the author is a huge kanji nerd who fully lean's into Horikoshi's love for punny names and the long authors notes explaining how they came up with every new name in the fic. It's occasionally bittersweet but mostly a fun & humorous fic.

Twin Swap -- https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867879 -- 55k words, on hiatus with 2 complete arcs -- do you want Todosibs AND great villain characterization? (well mostly Fuyumi & Touya, but Natsuo is there for a bit too). Anyways the fic is mostly pretty lighthearted in tone, but it's also not afraid to hit hard in the characterization department, and I really love how this author wrote all of the League members. I re-read this one a lot.

No Such Thing As a Hopeless Case -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806328 -- 14k words, hiatus (and right on a cliffhanger too!) -- All Might accidentally kinda adopts the league of villains? Again, great LOV characterization, and I think you'll like how it explores the societal factors and personal tragedies that lead them to and keep them at the margins of society. also, some really terrible puns, which are my favorite thing

could i but teach the hundreth part -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/12558048 -- 5k words, complete -- a post-canon outsider-POV fic of Class 1-A visiting and taking care of a retried All Might. It’s just short and sweet.

Missing Everything -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/30128547 -- 52k words, in progress -- AU where Izuku doesn't learn of All Might's secret during the slime attack, but manages to befriend him through his civilian identity. Recommending this for the really interesting (to me at least) characterization of All Might and examination of his flaws and the toll of his career, and recently it's gotten into some interesting exploration of the details of the Hero System with the beach clean up.

Q.A.B. -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665101 -- 18k words, complete (w/ a sequel just starting out!) -- a really excellent social media fic in which Izuku stays quirkless and doesn't go to UA but does gain a following online for his quirk analysis and hero blogging. Also features great characterization of Todoroki, Kaminari, and some of the Vigilantes crew.

Yesterday Upon the Stair -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/8337607 -- 460k words, complete. You're probably aware of this fic since it's the highest hit count in the fandom, but I really think it fits your requirement and writing and character work! I know some other people who think the writing and character work are mediocre though, which I'm baffled by... but YMMV? The beginning is weaker and my absolute FAVORITE part is the Nighteye arc, which is the last 20% of the fic, but I would say it really starts to hit its stride by chapter 9~10? If you aren't enjoying it by then it's probably fair to expect it won't catch your interest later.

I can't believe no one has written any "self insert as Bakugo" fanfics... - https://archiveofourown.org/works/17662220 -- 70k words, infrequent updates -- I like this one for taking a weird as hell premise and REALLY rolling with it. It's somehow pretty similar to a lot of more positive takes on Bakugo's relationship with the Midoriyas while also being very much it's own thing. The author is NOT "far out of high school" though -- it's hilariously clear from the SI's reactions to certain quirks that the writer started this while taking lower division universtiy physics (and personally I love that). Also appreciate SI!Bakugo's war with Nedzu to get proper counseling and mental health support for class 1-a after all the shit they've been through.

It's Over, Isn't It (it's only yet begun) -- https://archiveofourown.org/series/1269638 -- 66k words, abandoned series with several complete stories -- AU where All Might dies rescuing Tenko from AfO but other than that it's a heartwarming fix-it! Same author as YUTS, very positive portrayal of Nighteye, excellent character writing for many other characters.

Subject: A Comprehensive Report -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/16037609 -- 83k words, infrequent updates -- another very popular fandom staple, but hey it's really good! A social media fic with quirkless Izuku interning with Nighteye as an analyst. Has some very interesting exploration of the legalities of Hero Society and how the status quo developed.

For Fools and Utopias -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/22547254 -- 89k words, updates regularly -- okay grace is the one who rec’d this fic to ME but to anyone stumbling across this reclist on tumblr, THIS FIC IS A MUST READ. Absolutely the BEST, more thought out and gutting portrayal of the flaws of the hero system, and how the different characters struggle with it. This fic GOT to me, hard, I’m still thinking about it a lot. Takes place roughly a decade post-canon, in an AU where Izuku never met All Might or went to UA, and nothing got fixed (yet! they’re trying!!). Features absoulely STELLAR characterization of Midoriya, Shinsou, Todoroki, his sibblings, Ragdoll, and more!!

Here’s the original request:

any of the following in any combination: - really good writing - sophisticated character work - engagements with the ethics of the hero system - some kind of actually nuanced take on the Todoroki family - anything obviously written by people who are long out of high school (sorry for being old) - adults todobaku - good looks at the villains because guess what I continue to be weak for villain stories - basically anything that's Really Good - I like grey areas 

(to clarify, I, teashoptiramisu, am not the originator of this request but I’m also interesting in reading more fic exploring these ideas, so if you have any more fic that you think meet it feel free to drop the link(s) in a reblog or send me an ask!)

[marjansmarwani]

all the difference in the world 

2.7k || ao3

Carlos and his partner Mya respond to the hostage situation call. --- A 2x05 coda (a.k.a if the writers won’t give Carlos scenes, I will.)

This was mostly written out of spite. Mostly beta’d by @officereyes, but any errors in the part I added after are on me and me alone. 

---------

“I’m just saying, I can’t believe you didn’t invite me to the roller derby.” 

“I’m sorry, I had no idea it would be your thing,” Carlos shot back defensively. 

His partner turned to look at him for the briefest of moments with an entirely unimpressed expression, “It’s badass women on roller skates, Reyes. What exactly about that sounds like ‘not my thing’?” 

Carlos rolled his eyes. “I’ll be sure to invite you next time, Esquilin,” he promised, “as long as you don’t mind hanging out with TK’s crew.” 

“I think the badass women on roller skates can balance out the company of firefighters,” she quipped, shooting Carlos a grin, “probably.” 

He rolled his eyes again, but his retort was interrupted when their radio sounded from the dashboard, “Be advised, all units: Code 3 at 235 Heyward St, unit 3F. Hostage situation, suspect is armed and dangerous.” 

Carlos shot Mya a look and she nodded, flipping on the lights and sirens as she took the next left, bringing them closer to the emergency in progress. 

“Dispatch, this is 363-H-20, responding. ETA 8 minutes,” he announced into the radio before replacing it on the dashboard, a grim set to his mouth as he stared out the window at the houses they sped by. 

“I hate domestic calls,” Mya eventually said into the silence and Carlos nodded grimly. They had both seen calls like this end badly, and he knew they were both desperately hoping to never have to see that again. “Where did they say she was?” 

“Third floor.” He glanced at his partner to see her biting her lip as she considered, “Why?” 

“I’m just trying to figure out how we can possibly get up there without tipping him off. Dispatch said he was armed, we don’t want him spooked. That’s not going to end well for anyone, especially not her.” 

Carlos nodded, trying to focus on the problem rather than the possible disastrous outcomes. He and Mya had responded to a similar call almost two years ago now and that one had not ended happily. It was one of his experiences on the force that had affected him most and one he still thought about from time to time, especially on bad days. But it was also an experience that didn’t help them now. If they wanted to make sure that didn’t happen again he needed to focus on the now. 

Which was all well and good, but he didn’t know they were supposed to get a victim out of a third-floor apartment before they breached without anyone getting caught in a crossfire. They didn’t have the time, resources, or training to scale the building to approach that way. The only way in was the stairs and the door. 

He looked over at Mya who met his gaze with an equally frustrated expression. Clearly, she had not come up with any brilliant ideas either. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. It’s not that he thought he and Mya were incapable of coming up with creative solutions. But after spending so much time about the 126 he had a new standard for “creative,” and honestly he could use some of that insanity he witnessed on a regular basis right now. 

“We just need a way to get her out,” Mya said eventually as they drew closer to their destination, “once she is safe we can handle the guy. I just don’t want to risk her getting caught in a possible crossfire.” 

Carlos nodded and opened his mouth to ask his partner if she had any brilliant ideas to make that happen when he froze, a half-formed thought popping into his head. Without saying a word to Mya he reached for the radio again, switching it on to call dispatch: “Dispatch, are there any available fire units in the area of the Code 3?” 

“The 226 is in the vicinity and available.” 

Carlos glanced over at Mya, who had pulled her eyes off the road long enough to give him a baffled look. He smiled at her before he spoke into the radio again, “Dispatch, can they respond to the address in question and deploy the rescue cushion?” 

He saw the dawning realization on his partner’s face as he waited. She beamed at him even as the voice of the dispatch supervisor sounded over the radio, “Affirmative, 363-H-20. The 226 is en route and will have the rescue cushion deployed in time for your ETA.” 

“10-4 dispatch, we’re about 4 minutes out now.” 

He replaced the radio and turned to look at his partner, who shot him a knowing grin, “Only someone who has spent a little too much time around firefighters could come up with an idea as crazy as that.” 

He scoffed at her, “Crazy enough that it might just work, you mean.” 

She shook her head, still grinning, and Carlos sighed and leaned back in his seat, grin fading. “I hope it does work,” he admitted more somberly. “I don’t want this to be a repeat of…” 

“There’s no point in thinking like that,” Mya interrupted sharply, “that was a long time ago. And there’s no saying this is going to turn out the same way. Not if we have any say in it. We’re already in better shape than we were then. We’re not going to make the same mistakes.”

Carlos nodded tightly and they continued their ride in silence. He knew Mya was right and that they had prepared in every possible way. They had done all they could, but there were still so many variables. There always were. Working with people in crisis was never an exact science and there was always a chance that nothing went according to plan. 

They arrived at the scene and Carlos was out of the vehicle before Mya had even brought it to a complete stop, rushing over to the team unfurling the rescue cushion. The captain looked up as Carlos approached, “We’re just about ready to give the go-ahead,” he called, “we’re all set on our end!”

Carlos nodded gratefully and turned on his heel, meeting Mya’s eyes and jerking his head towards the building. She followed without question, waving for the other officers who had just arrived to follow them. They headed up the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible and Carlos did his best to avoid the creeping feeling of dread. He knew they had done everything they could, but that didn’t stop the fear that it might somehow still end in tragedy.

They had just approached the last flight of stairs when the scream ripped through the air. They froze as one, all waiting to hear the outcome. Carlos was nearly toppled by the relief of hearing the voices of the firefighters drifting up, assuring her that she was safe now. He could feel Mya’s hand on his arm and glanced over his shoulder to give her a quick smile. The victim was safe. From here, it was all simple. 

He gave a nod to the other officers gathered behind him and they resumed their journey upwards, entering the hallway and barreling through the door. The man spun to face them from the railing, a look of shock covering his features. Carlos held his gaze as he ordered him to put his hands up, and he saw the moment he made a decision. Dispatch had mentioned that this was his third strike; he knew there was no happy ending in this for him. 

He lunged for the gun in the same moment that Carlos thrust himself fully into the room, grabbing him before he could achieve his goal, stopping his hands mere millimeters from the gun. He could feel the collective sigh of relief from his fellow officers, as well as his partner’s gaze on the back of his neck. He ignored it, for the moment, as he wrestled the man’s arms behind his back, slapping the cuffs on him as he read him his rights. He stood then, pulling the suspect up with him as Mya stepped further into the room. She glanced over at the two officers behind them before addressing the pair: “We’ll take this loser down and get him to the station, can you two do a quick sweep and make sure all’s good here?” 

They nodded and Mya gave them a quick thanks before taking the suspect from Carlos and guiding him towards the stairs. Carlos gave his own thanks to the other two officers and quickly followed. He could tell his partner had something on her mind, but he also knew she wouldn’t say anything about it until they had the suspect safely secured in the back of their squad car. They descended the stairs in silence before eventually exiting the building back into the parking lot where the 226 was in the process of packing up the rescue cushion and the victim was getting checked out by the paramedics. 

Upon seeing his ex their cuffed suspect made to lunge in her direction but Carlos stepped between them, blocking his line of sight and staring down at him coldly, “Don’t even think about it.” 

He deflated and Mya scoffed as she pulled him in the direction of the squad car, opening the door and guiding him inside without a word. Once the door was closed behind him she turned to face Carlos, eyebrows raised and an unimpressed look on her face, “You wanna talk about what happened up there?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we got the guy.” 

“Yes, we did. After you threw yourself in between him and his gun and our guns too, I might add.”

“Mya…” he began, but she held up her hand to stop him. 

“I’m not trying to scold you, Carlos, especially because I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing. I’m just asking you to be a little bit more careful, okay? We take enough risks as it is, you really don’t need to go out of your way to create more. I kind of like you as a partner so I would appreciate it if you could manage to not get yourself shot if you don’t mind.” 

“Aw, you do care.” 

“I will deny that in a court of law,” she countered without missing a beat. 

He grinned at her and she sighed before shaking her head and walking back around to the driver’s side. “Just remember I’m not going to be the one to tell your boyfriend you got yourself shot,” she called over her shoulder, “so maybe avoid that if at all possible.” 

He chuckled, but her words also ignited a hint of anxiety in his chest. He had followed his instincts and he didn’t regret it, but now that the adrenaline was gone and he had the advantage of hindsight he could see how badly that could have gone. But he also knew that dwelling on it would accomplish nothing. He had spent a career trusting his instincts and he knew that was the best way to approach this. He knew that trusting himself was the best chance he had. 

That didn’t lessen the risks and the fact that he had so much more to lose now than he ever had before.  

As he opened the passenger door he glanced across the scene to see the woman sitting in the back of the ambulance, talking to another officer who was taking her statement. Her expression of relief was evident even from this distance, and Carlos smiled. This reality was better than any of the anxieties running through his head and he would focus on that. Today had been a win. They didn’t always get those, Carlos knew that all too well. They had to take the successes they could get, and savor those. Focusing on what-ifs never helped anybody. 

Today they had won and the would-be victim had her life back. Today they had managed to get the ex before the worst had happened and that made all the difference in the world. 

--------

Carlos looked up as his front door swung open, a smile spreading across his face when he saw his boyfriend and Paul crossing the threshold. TK met his eyes and matched his smile as he crossed the room towards him, “Hey, babe.” 

Carlos met him at the edge of the counter, pulling him into a kiss that lingered. When they finally pulled apart, he grinned at TK, “Hey yourself.” He looked over TK’s shoulder to Paul, “Hi Paul.” 

“What, no kiss for me Reyes?” 

Carlos rolled his eyes fondly as TK chuckled, setting the grocery bags he had brought on the counter to start unloading them. Carlos grabbed some of the groceries from him, stealing another quick kiss in the process before he glanced between the two firefighters, “No Mateo and Marjan tonight?”

“They’ll be here,” Paul explained, “they’re just handling a situation right now.” 

Carlos raised an eyebrow, “That sounds like a story.” 

“It is,” TK confirmed as he put the last of the groceries into the fridge, closing it behind him, “and we’ll tell you as soon as you tell me what you might know about the 226 having to deploy a rescue cushion under a third-floor balcony at the request of APD.” 

Carlos smiled sheepishly, “You heard about that, huh?” 

“Austin’s a small town, Carlos,” TK reminded him with a sly grin, “and the fire department is even smaller. There’s not much I don’t hear about.”

Carlos looked past TK to Paul who raised an eyebrow, settling onto the couch to watch them, “We’ll tell you ours after you tell us yours.”

Carlos made a face at him before turning back to meet TK’s expectant gaze, “It was nothing major. There was a hostage situation in a third-floor apartment and we just needed to make sure that she was safely out of the line of fire before we went to take down the guy.” 

TK moved closer to him, wrapping his arms around Carlos as he peered up into his eyes, “It sounds pretty major to me. Your idea probably saved her life, Carlos. She’s safe because of you.” 

Carlos shrugged self-consciously, “I wouldn’t say that. Grace did most of the work, figuring it all out and keeping her on the line.”

TK shook his head and removed one of his hands from Carlos’s waist to turn his face so their gazes met, “Grace is brilliant and certainly deserves a lot of credit, but you had a hand in it too babe, don’t sell yourself short.” 

Carlos studied TK’s eyes. They were sincere and full of love; so much it nearly overwhelmed him. His boyfriend meant every word he had said, and he was not about to let Carlos get away with arguing. The amount of faith TK had in him staggered him sometimes. He let himself smile and gave TK a nod. At his nod TK smiled wider, leaning in for another kiss before stepping away. 

Paul chuckled from the couch, “I’ve gotta hand it to you Carlos, that was pretty crafty. It definitely worked but it was also a little crazy. Almost like something a certain someone else I know might have tried.” 

Both Carlos and Paul’s gazes turned to TK, who looked at them indignantly, “What?” he demanded, but Paul just laughed. 

“I think he might be rubbing off on you,” he informed Carlos with a raised eyebrow. 

Carlos huffed a laugh in return but reached out an arm to wind around TK’s shoulders and pull him closer, placing a kiss on the inside of his neck. “Maybe,” he admitted, “but who’s to say that’s a bad thing?” 

Paul rolled his eyes and TK smiled smugly, twisting in Carlos’s grasp to face him, leaning forward to give him another kiss. When he pulled away his expression grew more serious as he studied Carlos’s expression intently. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, “I know how you feel about domestic calls.” 

Carlos pulled him closer again, placing a light kiss on the top of his head, “I’m okay,” he assured him with a certainty that almost surprised him, “really.” 

TK grinned at him and Carlos smiled back, looking up and meeting Paul’s gaze as well and giving him a reassuring nod. Of course he was fine; he had everything he could possibly ever need right here in his arms. He was fine because despite it all today had been a good day, but he also because knew that even if it hadn’t been, he had a second family now and they would catch him should he fall.

[nonstoplover]

accidental reunion ~ joe liebgott (band of brothers)

my masterlist  |  my hbo war masterlist

pairing: joe liebgott x female reader

short summary: they met in Austria on V-J Day, it was just one night, they still can't forget the other

words: 2.4K

a/n: not gonna say much just that i'd do anything for joe liebgott, even if it includes giving up my whole life

taglist: @how-are-those-nuts-sarge @50svibes @pennyllanne @liebgotttme @nowinnablewar

One fun night on one of Easy's last nights in Austria. With lots of drinks, games, and the company of residents of the small village that was Kaprun who were willing to spend some celebratory time now that the war was actually, finally over.

It was undoubtedly one of the best nights the soldiers had in the past couple years - at least for Liebgott it definitely was. He accidentally bumped into a girl about his age in the small pub when on his way to get a new round of alcohol and then spent the rest of the night with her.

They never shared full names or addresses with each other, all they got to know were mentions of small things dropped by accident. Now Joe's back in San Francisco, back to life in peace and he can't get the girl out of his head. There's nothing he regrets more than not asking for only these basic pieces of information. He let the possibly only good thing that war gave him slip through his fingers.

There's not a day he doesn't think of her. He sees the sparkle of her eyes in the street lights, the colour of her hair in the polychrome autumn leaves, hears her giggle in a random girl's voice on the street that makes him do a hopeful double take only to be left disappointed a moment later. When he's in a pub on a night out, the swirling booze in his glass reminds him of her and that one night they got to spend together. When a young woman gets in his cab with hair similar to hers, his heart always skips a beat as he looks back over his shoulder with sudden high hopes, his eyes always connecting with a pair of orbs that are clearly not hers.

He doesn't even know why he feels this way - he truly doesn't know her after all. Still, it's like in a matter of only a couple hours a connection has been created, one that's about impossible to break. If he believed in soulmates, maybe he'd say that it is just that. But he doesn't.

So he just lets the days pass with the occasional but somehow still almost constant thoughts of the girl. Every other week or when he just has the next day off, he might try to forget about her, find some inner peace with another woman, even though he knows that the next morning he'll wake up with her first name on the tip of his tongue just the same.

(y/n), on the other side of the planet tries to go on with her life after the war - she truly does. But still, it feels like there's nothing left for her in Austria anymore. Everything's changed. The village, the people living there, even her own perspective and thoughts on life has changed. Enough to help her make the decision of moving to the United States.

To her family she says it's only because of the seemingly endless opportunities there, in the process trying to convince even herself that it's not because of the fluffy brown haired paratrooper she met on the night of V-J Day.

Of course it's not because of him, all she knows about the young man is that his first name is Joe, that his fellow soldiers called him Lieb or something like that once or twice throughout the night, that he wanted to be a cab driver back in America, and that he was from San Francisco. It's nowhere enough information to give up her whole life and start a completely new one on the opposite side of the world.

Still, somehow it is enough for her, and it also gives her a starting point when six months after they first - and by far last - met she appears in the enormous American city all by herself, all her life packed up in two suitcases she drags behind herself, heart beating frantically as she eyes the buildings and hears the unimaginable street noise around her. To say she's anxious is an understatement - hell, she doesn't even speak English that good.

After the first and most important things are settled - a place to live in, a job to earn money with -, she's unable to stop herself and flips the telephone book up and calls a few of the cab companies around the city, trying to ask about him. But seemingly there are too many Joe's around who are driving taxis, and after the fourth or fifth unsuccessful try that leaves her feeling all stupid and naive she gives up.

She tries hard to fit in, makes friends at work and with the two girls she's rented the room she's now living in from, spends every evening improving her knowledge of the language. The more time passes, the better she feels - and the more she feels like she belongs -, though the feeling of missing something from her life never goes away. The feeling of missing somebody, to be more precise.

About two months later one day she oversleeps and is in a hurry to get to work in time so she decides to catch a cab instead of her usual choice of travelling by public transport. Almost practically falling down to the seat as she scrambles inside, she's already saying the address whilst also trying hard to catch her breath - she can only hope the driver can understand her panting words.

She closes her eyes, pressing her palm to her forehead and focusing on slowing her heartbeat back down to normal. Only half a minute passes though before she leans back in her seat and lets her eyelids open again, and her glance subconsciously falls on the cab driver.

Silently examining his features from diagonally and behind she can't help but feel a weird feeling tingle in her chest, as if her whole existence has suddenly found something familiar. Her eyes move back up on his profile, on the elegant line of his nose and the way a strand of brown hair has delicately fallen in front of his forehead.

"Joe," the name she still hears in her sleep every night leaves her lips in an almost breathless, subconscious whisper.

Then the next moment his head whips around - so fast that she can't help but worry he'll have whiplash - and the oh so familiar eyes connect with hers.

"(y/n)?" Comes the equally disbelieving, quietly muttered answer from him.

He remembers her.

Suddenly all the frustration of leaving her home behind and moving across the world, all the frustration of trying to find him feels worth it. She's found him. Or has he found her? It was most likely fate bringing the two back together, giving them one last chance to see what they would do.

"What are you doing here?" Joe exclaims excitedly, his glance moving back and forth frantically between the road in front of him and her face.

"I moved here," (y/n) shrugs.

"You what?"

She only giggles in response to his reaction - she's too overwhelmed with happiness to actually say something.

"It's good to see you," he admits, mentally adding that it's not only good, more like the best thing that has ever happened to him. He knows he can't just attack her like that, she probably didn't move here because of him anyway so he keeps his mouth shut to keep these thougths in.

"You too," she beams at him in the rear-view mirror before quietly adding one more thought, mainly to herself. "By now I thought I'll never find you."

And just like that the previous thought almost fully disappears from his mind, his breath hitching in his throat. "You tried to find me?" Joe asks with a smug grin on his face, one that's supposed to hide the swirl of his true and not at all like him emotions.

"Well, yeah, of course," the girl shrugs sheepishly, earning a joyous hum from him as a wordless reply.

For a couple long seconds they stay in silence, both of them deep in their thoughts as their minds try to process the sudden emergence of the other. Some previously never felt tension rises slowly in the air of the car, suddenly neither knows what to say or what to do. What they've been dreaming about for more than half a year now has just come true - and they weren't ready for it.

"Where're you going?" Joe speaks up again to break the quiet. "I mean, why are going there, 'cause I know where you're going."

This earns him a mental slaps from himself for behaving so stupid. What is he doing? Why is he like this? Where's his usual confident cockiness?

"Work."

Maybe it was worth it, coming here just to see him again, but there's no guarantee that he hasn't found someone else by now - even if he does remember her - or that he would even want to see her again after today. Doubt reappears in her mind, keeping her from speaking her mind and ask him about all the things she's been dying to ask him ever since that night back in Austria.

"When did you arrive here?"

"Two months ago."

"Sorry if I'm asking too much, I'll stop," Joe glances at her in the mirror, taking her reserved, short answers wrong, thinking that she just doesn't want to talk with him.

"No, no, it's fine!" (y/n)'s quick to reassure, eyes opened wide. "I should be the one apologising for not answering more or asking back. I'm just- ugh, I don't know. I've been thinking about this moment for so long that now I'm scared it's just a dream again. I don't want to get too empathized in case I'll only wake up in my bed again."

"This is real life, I swear," Joe chuckles - her words have managed to calm him down again. He lets go of the steering wheel with one hand and reaches back above the car seat - nothing but a simple signal towards her.

Mindlessly holding back her breath she raises a hand of her own and lets her skin bump into his for a short moment before daringly fully wrapping her fingers around his. An immediate smile takes over his features as he loosens into her touch.

"See? It's not a dream," he grins to himself, thumb moving over the back of her hand in soft small caresses.

"I'm glad it isn't," (y/n) giggles and Joe lets out a chuckle himself.

Before they could truly let go and enjoy the drive to the fullest, he pulls over outside a building that (y/n) realises as her work place when finally looking out the window.

Swiftly letting go of his hand she starts rummaging through her reticule to find her purse. When she pulls out the proper banknotes and tries to push them in his palm, he just shakes his head and moves his hand back to the steering wheel.

"You don't have to," he shrugs. "Take it as a welcome in San Francisco gift."

"Thank you," she mumbles with flushing cheeks before collecting her things and moving to get out of the cab.

She closes the door already when the sudden realisation hits her - she still doesn't know either his full name or his address, or anything for real.

Her hand rises almost on its own and her knuckles rap a fast rhythm against the glass next to the front seat. Joe's eyes are already on her as he scoots closer to roll down the window.

"I just wondered if I could have your phone number," she blurts out before she could think twice leaning down so her head pops back into the car.

With a raise of an eyebrow and a teasing smirk sitting upon his lips he nods in acknowledgement. "For the better part of this past minute I've been trying to find the courage to ask for your number."

(y/n) can feel the blood rush to her cheeks as she realises how truly straight-forward she's acted, but before she can raise a hand to hide her face in utter embarrassment, Joe starts moving around inside the car, and only a second or two later he retrieves his hand with a pen in-between his fingers. With his free hand he reaches out to gently grab her wrist and pulls it fully inside, pushing the material of her coat and long-sleeved blouse up towards her elbow.

Then he scribbles something on her soft skin, hissing whenever the pen doesn't want to write and he has to press the point of it deeper into her arm even though he really wouldn't want to hurt her even the slightest bit.

"There you go," his glance moves back up to her face when he finishes, winking at her.

(y/n) bites back a giggle before straightening back up, pulling out of the cab fully.

"See you later, Joe," she smiles at him one last time before turning around and rushing inside the building - the pinkness of her cheeks and the not erasable, wide smile on her face being true proofs of her emotions.

Later, when she's finally at her desk, coat removed and body gently slumping into the chair, her eyes catch sight of the writing again and she finally takes a better look at it. There's a phone number, completed with a simple Joe Liebgott and a don't you dare not call me under it.

A soft giggle escapes (y/n)'s lungs as she reads the last line, shaking her head in happy disbelief whilst also wondering how he could write so much in such a short time and without her even noticing. She must've been too entranced by the sparkling of his eyes, the way that one strand of hair fell and bounced in the air and how he - probably subconsciously - stuck the tip of his tongue out past his lips in concentration.

Then with a blissful sigh she lowers her arm again, eyes staring out of her head, looking at nothing in particular - instead picturing his face again inside her mind.

"Liebgott," she mutters to herself, tasting the name rolling down her tongue. She finally knows his name.

.::the end::.

my masterlist  |  my hbo war masterlist

[wanna be added to my taglist?]

[damn-stark]

Harmless Endeavors

Chapter 4 of Different Light

A/N- I always have so much fun writing these chapters and I especially can’t wait for the next one! Let me know what you thought?! I hope you guys liked the chapter :)

Warning-slight angst, SLOWBURN, typical teenage awkwardness and just a disaster trio starting their new hobby.

Pairing- Harry Potter x Malfoy!reader, Fred Weasley x Malfoy!reader

Takes place during; The Goblet of Fire

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“Alright Malfoy we have a question for you.” George began to probe while he stood beside you.

“Okay,” you muse skeptically, poking your head over the brick barriers between the hall's arches, whilst you gripped onto your wand. “Shoot.”

Fred snickers on your other side and asks their obvious curious question. “Where is Durmstrang exactly?”

“Well, obviously it’s…” you pause and blink as you somehow come out blank. “Well...I,” you gasp as your mind is still unable to recall any sort of direction at all. Everything just comes out blank. “I don’t recall exactly. That’s,” you mumble, “odd.”

Fred and George snicker and give one another a high five behind you after hearing your useless given answer. Finding your bafflement somehow amusing. Because of course they did.

“I told you, Freddie.” George said proudly, “no present, nor past student knows where Durmstrang is.”

“Most likely some type of memory charm,” Fred chimes in with the equal amount of pride as George. “Or maybe just too much dark magic messes with their heads.”

You slowly turn your head to face him and shoot him a pointed glare, causing him to just shrug nonchalantly and smirk. Wanting to remark on your glare, but not doing so as you pulled them both down when you heard the footsteps of your first victims approaching the hall. “Ready?” you whisper as you raise your wand to point it at the hidden floating bucket.

“Ready.” Fred repeated, lifting his wand to point at another bucket, whilst George also did the same, but faltered as he spotted the problem.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Malfoy? It’s your brother coming down the hall.”

Without any sign of hesitation you nod almost enthusiastically, “oh, I’m sure.”

“Okay then,” Fred continued smugly as he poked his head out to get a better view at the passing group which involved Draco, Crabbe and the tiny and snobby Pansy, “in 3,2,1.”

Without a second to spare George cast the flipendo jinx that knocked down a bucket filled with ink so it could drop over the group, while Fred makes a bucket pop out of the floor as fake bricks open like a small door, leaving you to knock down and drop the one behind them. Soaking them from head to toe in ink that made Pansy squeal and the two boys shriek out like little girls.

The whole scene overall making the three of you instantly drop and hide between bushes. Trying with all your might not to reveal yourselves with the laugh that threatened to spill out. Having to distract yourselves with listening to the group whine and grow upset. Draco most of all.

“Come out and show your face! Don’t be a coward!”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from bursting out, not daring to even move a muscle in order to keep yourself hidden.

“Just you wait! You will all get expelled!” Draco bellowed, before he and his group were heard storming down the hall, each second their footsteps echoing further and further away until they were just no more. Finally letting all of you burst out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter that made it hard to breathe. Causing you to gasp for air as you completely slumped to the dirt ground.

“I wish I could’ve…” Fred wheezed, “seen their faces!”

“I-it must’ve been spectacular!” George added excitedly. “Just you wait!” He then mocked, making you laugh much harder, feeling your sides hurt but unable to stop.

“Ah,” you gasped, “that-that was fantastic!”

“You knew didn’t you!” Fred jabbed, “you knew your brother was going to come down that hall. You had it all planned?!”

Once you are able to be somewhat contained, you shrug innocently. “It was just an innocent prank on a couple of passing kids.”

“Sure it was,” George chuckles, “you sneaky little genius.”

You grin smugly and flip your wand in your hand before placing it back inside your robe.

“Well you shouldn't have to hide it, you know we would’ve been down to prank your brother.” Fred adds, “with only your permission of course.”

“Of course,” you mock. “Anyway,” you shrug, “he deserved it, he was an arse.”

George scoffs, “isn’t he always.”

Your smile falters at George’s comment, but it’s just that and nothing else. You don’t let it or want it to affect you because it’s true, even if it feels weird hearing others bad mouth your brother.

Regardless you shrug it off and yet are unable to express anything else after you managed to calm down since down the hall, where Draco and his friends had left, quick multiple footsteps were heard approaching. Causing Fred to grab your hand to pull you with him as he jumped to his feet, meanwhile you grabbed onto George’s hand to pull him. Not daring to wait to see who it could be in case it was Draco coming back to search and snitch with an army of professors.

“Come on,” Fred urged as he tugged your hand and you tugged George’s to break into a sprint down the courtyard. “Let’s go!”

Again the three of you fell into a fit of laughter when you looked over your shoulders and saw Draco had returned, fuming to hopelessly search for the guilty party he was never going to find.

——

It so happened that waiting and searching for Dobby was much harder to find than accidentally bumping into him. And it’s not like you could just say his name and he’ll appear out of thin air anymore, he wasn’t your family’s house elf. So you were forced to pace out the kitchen to wait in the knowledge that he should have gotten the letter by now, there shouldn’t be a reason for him to take so long.

Athena, yours and Draco’s Eagle-Owl was a fast flyer, she wouldn’t have taken that long to deliver the letter after Draco passed it to her. In fact she should be back with a small package or more letters.

Unless...Dobby got caught. No...he couldn’t. The outcomes of that possibility would be out of your control and it would’ve been news you would’ve heard by now. He couldn’t have been caught.

Suddenly your name is uttered loudly down the hall. Followed by small quick footsteps speeding towards you—when you turn around you see Dobby’s little body coming towards you with an envelope half his hands size in his hold, whilst a big beaming smile decorated his features. “I’ve got it! I’ve got what miss Malfoy asked!”

A weight lifts from your shoulders at the sight of the little elf more than at the sight of the letter he carried. You sigh with relief and look down to the elf with a small smile. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“Dobby is very honored, miss Malfoy trusted Dobby with such a task.” The little elf squeals cheekily, “Dobby snatched the letter from the Manor and guarded it with his life for you, miss. And he never got caught!”

“That’s good. I’m so proud of you Dobby.” You beam, making the little elfs smile falter.

But not because he was upset, but because of the emotions he began to feel at your comment. “Miss Malfoy is proud of Dobby? Oh, Dobby is so happy! Here.” He hands you the letter as his eyes gleam with welled up tears. Letting you hand him a small wrapped package that had his name on it. Making the elf get even more emotional as he opened it to find a knitted sweater and a couple of Galleons. “Thank you! Thank you.”

“Thank you, Dobby, you’ve saved my life.” You assure him, glancing at the end of the hall to see more house elfs come out of the kitchen as breakfast was going to be served, “thank you. And I hope that if Draco keeps doing this that I can count on you to do the same? If that’s no trouble?”

“It’s never trouble. Dobby is honored to help.”

“Good,” you nod with a grin before you’re moving past him, “thank you again and I’ll see you again soon!” You wave at Dobby and he waves back. The sight of his little figure is gone as you leave the kitchens and head towards the great hall to join your only two friends for breakfast. Catching them on their usual table with a gap left between them for you to sit, both at the same time catching a glimpse of you before waving you over.

“Where have you been?” George asks while you take your seat.

You shrug and hide your smirk, “busy.”

“Causing trouble so early in the morning, Malfoy?” Fred probes.

You chuckle and serve yourself breakfast, only shaking your head as a non-helpful response to his questioning. Choosing to leave it at that and say nothing else on the regard—knowing if you did let them in to your secret plan, someone around could hear and tell. Destroying your whole plan and leaving you in hot water.

So as for now it would be well not to tell and just leave them in the dark.

All you could do, now, at the moment was enjoy breakfast. You could worry about focusing on rewriting the letter and sending some of your own later.

“....Mom sent me a dress.”

Fred giggles beside you and pulls both yours and George’s attention to focus on his youngest brother.

“Well it does match your eyes,” you hear Harry tease, making you grin and forget the breakfast you were so intent on eating moments ago to focus on the trio causing an amusing scene; “is there a bonnet?” Harry reaches to pull the exact item of clothing from the box, “aha!” Harry grins cheekily, making Ron roll his eyes and dismiss his friend's comment.

“Nose down Harry,” Ron takes the odd, ghastly looking robe to his sister. “Ginny these must be for you.”

From the side of the table you’re sat on, you couldn’t see the youngest Weasleys exact facial reaction, but by the obvious disgust in her tone you could tell it was just as her voice was heard. “I’m not wearing that, it's ghastly.”

You giggle along with the rest of the students, noticing Ron’s unfocused gaze as he walks back after he hears Hermione giggling. “What are you on about?”

Hermione giggles, “they’re not for Ginny. They’re for you.”

The twins as well as you and the group of students paying attention to the interaction burst into a louder teasing laugh, continuing on as the explanation continued—“dress robes!”

“Dress robes?!” Ron snaps back as his eyebrows knit together and his nose scrunches up, “for what?!”

You chuckle and add a long time knowing answer to his question, “the Yule ball of course!”

——

“The Yule ball is approaching—a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests.” Snape announces to the house of Slytherins in such an unbothered and monotone way, “the ball will only be open for fourth years and above. Of course you may invite a younger student only if you may want to.”

Of course you knew like the many times before, what was to come for this school year, but that still didn’t excuse your gut wrenching nerves that knotted your stomach at the thought of such an important event. The main reason being who would ask you, or really if anyone would?

Of course you could ask someone; and you could see some people already looking at you as Professor Snape announced the event, but you didn’t really wish to go with any. Not to be cruel really, but the reason being, was that you didn’t really wish to actually go with anyone from Slytherin house. Not only because you didn’t know a soul personally but well...it was just that. You wanted to go with someone you did know—which wasn’t a lot of students, but you still hoped really.

“Dress robes will be worn,” Professor Snape continued stiffly, “and the ball will start at eight o’clock on Christmas Day. No later. It will finish at Midnight, so please no late arrivals. And of course.” Professor Snape cleared his throat as he looked to the crowd of older Slytherins, “I will expect Slytherin to behave and not act like wild animals. If I catch anyone out of hand I will take points. So act decent if you want to win the house cup at the end of the year. Okay? Everyone up and to the center of the room!”

——

“...I’m so glad to hear that you’re enjoying your school year at Hogwarts. However I’m saddened by the fact that I won’t get to spend Christmas with Draco and you this year, it’ll be odd having the house so alone in such a wonderful Holiday, but I know you two will be up to far more exciting things with the Yule Ball approaching. I can't wait to hear all about it and who you’ll go with, so please as soon as someone asks you, write to me! I’ll be waiting with so much anticipation. I miss you and I hope we see one another soon.

Love, Narcissa

Of course in that small detail of the letter where Narcissa says to write her as soon as someones asked you, she left out that part that it couldn’t be just anyone—No mud-bloods, nor blood traitors. Especially no, Mud-bloods! That’s key. Your father would most likely come to the school and grab you by the ear to take you back home.

Perhaps it was good that no one has asked you. Saved you a bunch of unnecessary problems.

Like you would care regardless.

“Are you done with the letter yet?” You question Draco as you walk behind him on the chair to hit the top of his head with the couple of envelopes in your hand.

He winced like the dramatic boy he was and threw his arm back to hand you the wanted item, adding as always a comment. “But don’t read it! I’ll know if you do.”

You snicker and walk back towards the door, “why? Got some special news to tell mummy that you don’t want me to know about?” You smirk, “like how you got supposedly bathed in ink?” You do air quotes with your fingers and try to surpass the fit of laughter that threatened to burst out.

Draco snapped his body to face you so quickly that you’d thought it’d just crack in half. “It’s true! You just didn’t see it because it was invisible ink to everyone else!”

You offer a narrowed gaze and a mischievous smirk he didn’t understand the meaning of—or else he would’ve turned crimson. “Okay,” you shrug casually, “invisible ink? Whatever you say.”

Draco’s face scrunches up and he throws you a pillow that luckily doesn’t hit you as you shut the door in time. Albeit you don’t fail to laugh. Receiving odd looks from passing students was the only thing that made you hold your laughter and bite your tongue from going hysterical.

If only Draco knew. If only he knew.

“Y/N!”

Suddenly your attention perks up as you hear your name called out behind you. When you turn you see only one Weasley twin; which going by the hair and how it kind of swooped at the tips, it was Fred.

You smile and stop so he could catch up, “hello, Fred. Long time no see.”

He laughs softly and runs his fingers through his hair, stealing glances at you as he begins to walk with you. “So what do you think about the Yule ball? Get asked yet?”

You shake your head and purse your lips, “nope not yet, but I do see some boys following me at times throughout the day and stare at me as if I’m some shiny toy.”

Fred puts his hands in his pockets and grins, “maybe they’re scared of you.”

You chuckle and spin to face him, walking back as he walked forward to joke along. “Is it my hair? Or do you think they know we're trouble? Or is it my family name?” You giggle, “maybe I’m just too funny for them, hmm? My jokes are too grande for them.”

“Ahh,” Fred teases with a goofy grin, “that’s it. They just don’t understand those hysterical jokes and the mindless pranks you hide in their morning pumpkin juice.”

You snort and playfully hit his chest before you fall back at his side, wanting to add something but cut off as Fred continued.

“Well now that we’re on that topic of dates, I wanted to ask if you’d go with me?”

Suddenly your stomach drops and your heart goes wild like a kid on a sugar high. Your smile drops but it picks up again, going in that nervous routine for a couple of seconds until you stop and make Fred stop to fully face you.

“You want to go with me?” That was a stupid question, but it just came out. Why didn’t you ever think of the twins?

Maybe because you thought they wouldn’t ask. Especially not Fred since you’d see him talk to his friend Angelina at times before George and him would join your side. You’d thought he’d ask her instead.

Guess you stand strongly uncorrected.

Fred chortles, “of course that’s why I asked.”

“Oh,” you feel your cheeks burn and your wrist begins to ache as the habit to nervously rub it annoyingly ticks at your brain. “Well, yeah I’d love it to.”

Fred’s grin widens and goes somewhere between cocky and flustered, but he hides it well with a cool nod. “Alright then can’t wait, I’ll see you later.” He begins to walk back as you do too, continuing to your previous path.

A shy smile grows on your lips and you wave at him like a dork, not seeming to keep your eyes off each other until you both turn to your destined halls. Causing your overly giddy grin to last until you reached the top of the Owlery. Dropping your smile to a small faint one as you offered it to a girl in your same year, Cho Chang as she passed by you on the snow covered stairs.

Moments after, your mind hardly paid attention to what was going on around you as you focused on the ice and snow.

Because of that causing your body to almost collide into Harry.

“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry.” You excuse yourself as your smile falls and your cheeks tingle with a threatening warmth. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

Said boy giggles nervously and sways from side to side like an awkward dance as you both try to go past each other.

It’s not until you grab his shoulders to turn him to where he was headed does the funny interaction stop, and you’re left standing awkwardly for a few moments until he waves goodbye, followed by a soft departing word too. Letting you think that was it, but standing strongly uncorrected again.

“Y/N!”

You turn back on your heels and your eyebrows lift as you answer back, “yeah?”

“Uhmm,” he swallows thickly, “Wangoballwime?”

Your eyebrows knit together like your stomach does, but both for entirely different reasons. “Huh? Sorry I didn’t quite get that.”

Harry shoves his hands in his pockets and his eyes bounce all around your face, an obvious rosy tint growing on his cheeks and neck—for cold reasons or different you couldn’t quite understand. “Uhm, I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to go to the ball with me?” He spoke slowly and clearly this time, causing your eyes to widen and your face to burn.

You could your heart rush again, or maybe this time much quicker, but it did. It was going to just burst out. While also this time you couldn’t help but nervously rub your wrist. Forcing yourself to answer with the disappointing truth—for him anyway. “Oh, uhm, Harry I’m sorry, but someone’s already asked me.” You reveal with a hurt look, “and I said I’d go, sorry.”

Harry rips his hands out of his pockets and nods whilst he answers in the most assuring way possible. “Okay, yeah, great no problem. Okay, good.”

You offer him an apologetic smile and watch him walk back until you call to him, “Harry.”

At the call he runs back and waits.

“I really am,” you assure him shyly, “sorry.”

“Well that’s okay.” Harry reassures you, saying nothing to let your gazes linger until he bursted out with a question. “Who’re you going with?”

“Fred,” you smile sweetly, “Fred Weasley.”

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @peter-laufeyson , @swiftlymoniquesblog , @spideyyypeter , @gsvshsjsbs @accio-prozac , @cherriesanwine @kokomaesadie , @april-14-blog, @prettypinkpeachh

[americasass81]

Make Her Mine - Chapter Nine (End)

Warnings:- 18+, Dark theme, Smut, Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Sex, Oral (female receiving), Swearing, Mention of Real People, Violence, Implied Character Death, Implied Breeding.  Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting.  Feedback is welcomed.

This contains adult themes and by proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

A/N:- So here we are at the end (finally🤣).  It’s been a really fun and interesting experience writing this series and I hope that all those who read it enjoyed it as much as I did writing it.  Thanks so much for joining me on this journey.

Word Count:- 2,903

Situating himself back between your legs, you feared passing out once again as Tony's mouth connected with your left ankle and began the slow, sensual trek towards your aching pussy.  Kissing, licking, biting and generally reintroducing your intimate area with every part of his lower face, including his goatee, you were quickly reminded just how much control this man possessed when your hips began writhing beneath him and wetness pooled in your panties, yet he simply switched legs and began again.  Cursing and whimpering beneath his highly skillful mouth, you now knew what sexual frustration felt like and knowing you couldn't take any more you reached out, and grabbing Tony by his hair yanked, hard.  "Stark, I vaguely recall a conversation where you promised I'd want for nothing.  Well right now all I want is to fucking come," and while he moved forwards to capture your lips with his, his hand reached out as his considerable strength pulled your panties from you.  Wanting to cry out at the sting this action left behind, you couldn't find it in you to care as you felt his shaft move slowly along your wet folds as his chin came to rest in the valley between your breasts.

"Darling, I'm offended that you think I'd leave you wanting," he said kissing your right mound, "waiting, possibly," he continued, now moving to your left mound, "but we both know I always deliver in the end," and you both groaned as you felt his considerable tip breach your flower.  Waiting patiently for the feeling of fullness to envelop you, you instead screamed out all the frustration of the past week, as Tony rested his considerable weight on your lower body and did nothing.

Now plastering sloppy wet kisses all over your tits while you tried everything to get his lower regions moving, you knew now you should have taken one of your cars and left your life behind when the iron avenger removed himself from your body and smirked down at you.  Holding you back with one hand as your fists came flying at him, your sex deprived brain would never figure out how he managed to use his other hand to free you of your last article of clothing.  As it was, snaking his mouth around your left nipple and biting gently was the only thing that brought you back to reality and knocked the fight out of you.  Moaning in ecstasy as he then soothed the skin before doing the same to the right, you now just hoped that his promise to deliver would soon be fulfilled.  Smiling down on you as the fight left you, Tony kissed you once more before heading back south.  "Ready to fall apart for me Y/N?" and when all you could do was mumble "yes" over and over and over again, he knew you were finally ready.

Finally placing his mouth over your intimate area, you dropped your body on the pillows as his tongue began to explore your sopping, aching folds.  Allowing his tongue to get reacquainted with your clit, he shoved a finger into your waiting heat and was disappointed when nothing happened.  Suspecting that a single digit would never again satisfy you, he proceeded to add another and this time was rewarded with a slight jerk from your hips.  Moving them steadily in and out as his mouth sent shockwaves radiating through your clit, you surprised him yet again when a third finger was added to your warm pussy.  Now giving voice to the pleasure thrumming throughout your entire system, Tony's curiosity got the better of him and pulling his mouth from your folds, proceeded to add a fourth finger while his thumb came to rest against your clit.

At last moaning out his name as your stretched hole easily accommodated his palm, Tony worked over your walls until the gasp that left your body informed him he had found your g-spot.  "Ah, there it is darling.  Just what I was looking for," and from there it was only a matter of time before he had you begging for release.  "Come on darling, come apart on my fingers like the good girl I know you can be." Tony coaxed, as your body no longer fought the hold he had over it and you cried out as you let go while your cum gushed out around his digits.  Falling forward to rest his exhausted body against your chest, Tony continued to work you through your orgasm and pepper your skin with soft kisses as his praises echoed in your ears.

Gazing down on you, his soaked hand left your pussy and approached your mouth at the same time his gracious plenty buried himself within you with one powerful thrust.  Moaning weakly with some fingers in your mouth, as was all they would allow, you continued to lick your arousal from his hand as his cock began the slow, steady pace of moving your body towards the edge once again.  Finally freeing his hand so his fingers and mouth could once again toy with your tits, his slow, powerful thrusts had your body crying out for something more.

"Oh fuck Tony, more please.  I need more.  Give me more." you begged between pants and as his gleaming eyes met yours, the smirk gracing his features, told you that a good hard fucking was not on the menu today.  Turning you over onto your stomach and raising your hips, this new angle allowed him to sink deeper into your welcoming heat, but his pace remained stubbornly tender as his lips began dotting your shoulders with equally soft kisses.  Feeling your resolve and hatred for him growing weaker and weaker the more his lips and shaft worked their magic, you thought the whimpers he pushed from you would somehow force him to take pity on you.  As it was, he continued with the task at hand until your walls began to tighten around him, at which point he pulled out, lay down on his back and placed your trembling body over his soaking rod.

"Ride me darling.  Take everything you need." he said as he pulled you down onto him while his hips thrust forward.  "I want to see your face as you give yourself to me."

Afraid that your decision now would negate some of Tony's culpability regarding all his previous actions, your body stalled momentarily as you tried to think if you really could go through with this.  Watching one of the most powerful men in the world, gazing up at you with lust and some other unknown look in his eyes, however your mind lost the battle with your body as your hips began to move against him while your hands used his chest to ground you.  Remembering back to the last time you had him in this position, your sex addled brain now only cared about what you could get out of him, and so throwing caution to the wind, you removed his hands from your hips and proceeded to bounce yourself faster and harder on his cock, until your walls firmly clenched around him, his cum shot out all over pussy and your orgasm flowed through you to the point where Tony's groin was completely soaked.

Finally spent and completely satisfied, you fell forward onto his heaving chest while his arms encircled your trembling body.  Kissing you tenderly while your breathing returned to normal, you snuggled deeper into his chest, until a deep chuckle broke through the sex haze currently pulling you off towards sleepy town.  "Don't fall asleep on me just yet Y/N, we gotta clean you up." he stated before lifting both of you from the bed and walking you into the shower.

Impressed by his strength, the whining protests escaping your mouth told him that despite your sleepy expression you still wanted more, but thankfully his will proved stronger.  Washing both of you quickly and thoroughly before you had a chance to get all frisky again, Tony then dried you gently before helping you back to bed where a soft mattress and warm body dragged you down to a sleep that made you feel like you were floating away.

                    *************

Waking utterly refreshed the next morning and starting up where you left off, now that you and Tony had reached an understanding, things began to change in ways you didn't expect.  Allowing you access to the kitchen since he knew how much you loved to cook, Tony never once suspected the treachery you were still secretly harboring.  Getting to have more frequent phone conversations with Sabrina was also an added perk, but the unseen progress made elsewhere in the coming week and a half was the real icing on the cake.

Having slowly let his guard down and become more open with you, back in New York, Steve had managed to use some Wakandan technology procured by Bucky to finally use their conversations and Sabrina's with you to accurately pinpoint your location.  Discussing now the monumental task of actually separating you from the powerful avenger, a casual conversation with the other Avengers about a missing Stark employee that no one had actually reported missing confirmed Steve's suspicions that the New York mob was now his only source of backup.

Having finally settled on a plan, Steve knew that ordinary humans, no matter how tough however, would need something more powerful to stand against Earth's Mightiest Heroes.  Heading back to the compound, Steve cautiously cleaned out his rooms and then walking away from the life he knew, simply because it was as always the right thing to do, made a call to Wakanda for some advanced weaponry to help even things up.  Then driving off to the cabin he now shared with Bucky, who was currently visiting Shuri for work on his new arm, all he had to do now was hope you hung on long enough for them to draw Tony away from you.

                    *************

Back at the crypt things had settled into a comfortable routine of meals, movies, watching Tony work in the lab and fucking like rabbits whenever and wherever the mood hit.  Fearing the consequences, your calls to Sabrina kept you focused on keeping Tony off guard however, and not two weeks after this whole ordeal had started came the unexpected opportunity you had all been hoping and praying for.

Having at last been left alone thanks to Iron-Man's skills being needed somewhere you couldn't remember Tony mentioning, you smiled triumphantly that the latest little development had finally allowed you a modicum of control in Tony's absence.  Making your way throughout the house, a voice in the back of your mind told you to get some shit together and you were thankful you listened when not fifteen minutes later, a loud explosion told you that someone or something had breached the crypt's defences.

Wondering why V.I.R.G.I.L. had failed to respond or even warn you of a possible attack, you wished now more than ever that you had your weapons or the suit Tony promised you, when a certain and familiar star-spangled Avenger appeared before you.  Standing frozen in place until he explained that Sabrina had sent him, you quickly trusted your gut and grabbing your bag followed him back to the main entrance.  Looking at the mess he had made of the place, you stopped suddenly as your eyes latched onto the door leading to Tony's lab.

Turning around when you were no longer behind him, Steve followed your feet as they led you towards the room that held your go-bag.  Reaching out to grab your arm, Steve urged you to get moving but you told him you weren't leaving without what was yours.  Leading him towards the place you now knew the safe to be hidden, he used his shield and considerable strength to quickly work it open and allow you access to your prize.  Seizing the bag and now following the Captain from the place that recently held you captive, you instinctively looked towards the sky half expecting a red and gold suit to drop on this location.

Hearing Steve hollar at you to get a move on, you threw your bags into the waiting car and quickly joined Captain America as he sped through the forest, leading you away from the nightmare you had known.  Driving quickly while trying not to draw any undue attention, Steve couldn't help gazing over at you from time to time as you apprehensively waited for the nanoparticles to shock your system once more.  Not knowing that an undisclosed issue had caused this feature to be permanently disabled, you didn't breathe properly until Steve pulled off the main road and headed towards what looked like an unused car park.

Pulling into what actually turned out to be an old abandoned building site somewhere off the beaten track, you pulled out the burner phone Steve handed you and called Sebastian who told you to stay put while he and his soldiers came to get you both.  Finally having some time to let the events of the past hour sink in, Steve quickly placed his arms around your shoulders as you bent over and emptied the contents of your stomach onto the ground.  Thanking him as your system settled down and he led you back to the passenger seat, you prayed the mob would reach you before your fallen angel figured out what had happened.

                   *************

Waking up some time later in the same location, the darkening sky was the least of your worries.  On a partially built rooftop with weapons you could only assume came from Steve, Scarlett and Jeremy did their best to provide aerial cover to Sebastian, Brie, Anthony and Chris while Steve worked tirelessly to bring down as many of his former teammates as possible.  Wanting so badly to fight alongside them, but feeling another wave of nausea hit you as you were about to move, you couldn't hide the shriek that left your throat as Steve launched a badly shattered Vision across the front of the car.

Witnessing firsthand the brutality that both sides were capable of, you wondered why they were willing to go to such lengths over someone like you, but this thought was quickly forgotten as a red blast flashed by your window towards Sebastian only to be intercepted by Chris.  Falling to the ground as Cap unleashed his shield and Sebastian's forces let loose a hail of gunfire, you once more wondered where it all would end when an unseen blast shook the ground and caused everyone to drop to their knees.

Sitting in Steve's car watching the dust settle all around you, a cold panic filled you as Iron-Man, in all his glory, dropped out of the sky like some avenging angel.  Watching as you realized you alone had the power to stop this and what it would ultimately cost you, you looked out the window as Tony prepared to fire on Jeremy and Scarlett's locations before your eyes fell on Sebastian.  Knowing that everything he had told you was true and that your friends had run out of time, you exited the car and quickly went to stand before your iron captor.  "TONY ENOUGH, PLEASE!" you shouted, as you held out your hands.  "You win.  I know now my place is by your side, so let my friends go and take me home."

Looking at you while still keeping his weapons trained on the two mob soldiers, Sebastian and Steve took advantage of the lull in battle to come stand beside you.  "Y/N, think about what you're doing." Steve warned, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"I am Steve.  Look what's happened because of me." you stated, looking around the old property at the two worlds that held you in their grasp.  "Jeremy and Scarlett have god only knows what type of weapon trained on them, Brie and Rhodes need a hospital.  I don't know if anyone can help The Vision and Chris.  And let's be honest, you, Anthony and Sebastian don't stand a chance against Tony, Bruce and Wanda."

Nodding solemnly as he stared between you and the mob boss before glancing around the makeshift battlefield, this time it was Sebastian who broke the silence.  "Y/N, I promised Sabrina I'd bring you home.  Don't make me break my promise."

Raising your hand to wipe the blood from the gash above his left eye, you nodded at Tony to let him know you had accepted your fate before answering your best friend's husband.  "He can find me anywhere, Sebastian.  Look at the carnage already created without him even firing a weapon.  He won't hurt me, at least no more than I can handle, and hopefully when things settle down we can bury the hatchet and put this animosity behind us."

Wrapping your arms around both of their necks, you kissed Sebastian's cheek and then walked towards Iron-Man.  As he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his side, you held onto him before calling out to Sebastian.  "Tell Sabrina I love her and we'll see her soon."  With that you placed your arms around Tony's neck and launching both of you into the sky, he left the teams to clean up as he flew towards home with his family wrapped securely in his arms.

Tagging:- @nsfwsebbie @hoseokchild @gotnofucks @ironlady1993 @floatingdaisy7 @taintedgenre @buttercandy16 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay , sorry if I missed anyone.

[hookedonapirate]

Book Sneak Peek

A/N: For those of you who don’t know, I’ve been converting A Helping Hand to an original novel. After months of frustration from not knowing what to leave and what to take out because of the ridiculous length of this story, I’m finally close to being finished with it. It’s currently in the process of being edited and polished. This is a sneak peek of my new book. Unlike my first novel, this one is set in "The Big Apple” just like AHH. It features Harper and Audrey (Emma and Elsa in AHH) from Follow My Lead, and Derrick, Elisa and their daughter, Gracie, make an appearance at the end. 

I also wanted to let everyone know I will most likely be taking A Helping Hand down, even though I’ll be self-publishing. I know I said I wouldn’t, and actually I’m really sad about it, but after going through it, I realized it’s completely full of errors, misspellings and whatnot. Plus, I didn’t just change the names of characters and remove ouat elements; even though it’s the same story and the scenes pretty much follow the same sequence, apart from what I took out or added, I’ve made A LOT of changes to it, and I don't really want another version of my book out there. I encourage you to download A Helping Hand while you still can. But I will definitely let everyone know before that happens.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy another sneak peek!

I groan into the fluffy pillow my face is burrowed in. My head’s pounding, I feel like someone drilled a hole through my skull, my throat is dry and nausea lingers in my stomach. Slowly dragging my arm away from under my face, I open my eyes to a dim room, the curtains shielding any sunlight trying to burst through.

I take a minute to roll over, my eyes adjusting to the room as I lift my head slowly, taking in my surroundings. 

Nothing seems familiar. 

Granted, the guest room in my brother’s apartment is not very familiar either, but at least it reminds me of Brady. This room does not. It’s too pink and girly.

“Where the hell am I?” I grumble hoarsely.

I’m surrounded by pale pink walls and white furniture—a chair decorated with pink, frilly pillows, a bookcase lined with romance novels, a vanity and a nightstand with a pink, furry lamp. The curtains are made of white lace and there’s a large wall hanging that reads in large, cursive writing, Be your own kind of beautiful. 

My eyes scan the comforter, which is also pink, along with more frilly pillows.

This is definitely not my brother’s guestroom.

This is definitely a chick’s room.

My eyes widen in horror at the revelation.

This cannot be happening.

Gathering further evidence to solve the mystery as to how I ended up in some woman’s bed, I sharply lift the covers and peer underneath them, seeing that, yep, I’m bare-ass naked.

“Fuck.”

I let my head sink back into the pillow as I drag my hands over my face. I can’t believe my first night in New York, I hooked up with some random woman.

I went to the bar with those intentions in my dispirited condition, but I don’t recall picking up anyone. In fact, I have no recollection of last night beyond the bar. Which means I was way too smashed to hook up with anyone.

I need to leave. I’m not the type of guy to fuck someone and run off the next morning without at least buying her coffee or getting her phone number. To be honest, I’m not the type of guy who does one-night stands, but I’m in no shape to be involved in anything resembling a relationship. 

 Judging by the breakfast she’s making, this woman has other plans. The door is closed but I can hear dishes clanking around in the kitchen. And as I spot my clothes across the room, I doubt a woman expecting nothing more than a one-night stand would go to the trouble of picking up my clothes from the floor, folding them neatly and setting them in the chair. She certainly wouldn’t be making me breakfast.

I sit up slowly and place my feet on the floor, hoping this will stop the room from spinning around me. I drop my face in my hands and groan. I haven’t felt this hungover in years. I eventually stand up and grab the knitted blanket I’ve been sleeping on, securing it around my waist. I go to the window and pull back the curtain.

I’m on the third floor, judging by the number of windows beneath her unit. I remember little about the surroundings, but I do remember seeing the pancake house directly across the street and I remember thinking about how much I missed my mom’s chocolate chip pancakes. I also remember the bar I went to last night and seeing the barbershop next to it and thinking how badly I need a haircut. The names of the establishments are all the same. Which means only one thing. 

The woman I slept with last night lives in the same building and floor as my brother. 

Fuck.

I have a feeling this won’t end well. I let the curtain fall into place and turn around when I hear a gentle knock on the door.

Shit. 

I swallow thickly as the door opens. Panic flares inside me as I try to think up a way to get out of the pickle I’m in. I scramble toward the chair which holds my clothes.

“Owen, you awake?” 

I whirl around until I’m face to face with the most beautiful green eyes and golden hair I’ve ever seen in my life. I drag a hand through my disheveled hair, my eyes traveling down her body. She’s wearing a thin, pink bathrobe, exposing a pair of long, sexy legs that go on for days.

Legs I can definitely imagine wrapped around me.

Damn, I hit the jackpot last night. 

She’s beautiful, which is either a relief or extremely dangerous; I can’t decide which one.

She strides over to me, bearing a glass of water and a cheerful smile. I’m still stunned by how beautiful she is. “Morning, sunshine. Sleep well?” 

She’s teasing me and I like it.

How in the hell did I forget a night with a woman like her? I must’ve been out of it. “I have a splitting headache and the room is still spinning.” I press my fingertips against my temples, feeling them pounding underneath my touch, “Other than that, I’m perfect.”

“I can imagine,” she says with a giggle. 

Her giggle is the most delightful sound I’ve ever heard in my entire life, even with a splitting headache. 

“Here, I got you something that might help with that.” She offers me a glass of water and some aspirin.

“Thank you.” I graciously accept the aspirin and water, deciding this isn’t so bad. 

“What, no ‘thank you, beautiful’? Guess you’re really not feeling well,” she says playfully. 

Fuck. I even called her beautiful, which means I was laying on the charm pretty thick last night. I offer a frail smile, despite feeling terrible. Not only because of the alcohol. I feel terrible for getting her into bed while I was inebriated and miserable from my breakup. And she was probably drunk too, which makes me feel even worse. Although, she doesn’t appear to have a hangover. Maybe she’s one of those people who doesn’t get hangovers after they get drunk. If she is, she’s pretty lucky.

I swallow the pills, and as I wash them down with water, I know the right thing to do is tell her I’m not ready for a relationship or a woman in my life, but how can I? I don’t really want to see her smile dissipate, especially since she turned out to be so nice and sweet and beautiful.

I lower the glass and close my eyes briefly, the coolness of the liquid feeling quite soothing against my cracked lips and dry throat. Damn, if only I could remember exactly what I did to this woman with my mouth as my tongue slashes along my lips. If only I could remember what she did to me with that lush mouth of hers. A shiver skates down my spine. I try to shake the thoughts from my mind and try to speak but struggle to find the words. It’s difficult when this woman is staring at me with those intense green eyes. I desperately want to scoop her into my arms and kiss her senselessly, creating new memories of having her in bed, but I know that would only end very badly. Even more so than it’s already going to. The last thing I want to do is lead her on.

Somehow, I manage to refrain from kissing her. “Listen...I don’t remember much about last night and you’re…” My hand makes a grand, sweeping gesture down her form, “drop-dead gorgeous...and I’m sure last night was incredible...but my girlfriend just dumped me and my head’s a mess right now, so, I...” she eyeballs me in confusion as I will myself to continue, “I think we should just be friends.” At the same time, I reason with myself that we’ve already done God knows what, so there’s no harm in a quick kiss on the cheek, right? Besides, I may not be ready for a relationship, but I’m still a gentleman.

I step into her space and casually lean in to kiss her cheek. She smells like strawberries and cream and I can hear her breath hitch as my lips brush along her skin.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” She places her hands on my chest to push me away.

I quickly pull back to give her space, apologies leaving my lips. “Sorry, I just figured since we had sex—”

Her eyes practically pop out of her head. “Wait, you think we had sex?!” 

Well, duh. I shrug. Why else would I have slept naked in her bed and why else wouldn’t she be fazed by my nakedness underneath the blanket? “Didn’t we?”

She dissolves into laughter, to my complete and utter humiliation. “Oh no, no, no, no! We did not have sex.”

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list for future updates and sneak peeks.

@onceuponaprincessworld @teamhook @artistic-writer@ilovemesomekillianjones @hollyethecurious @gingerchangeling@ultraluckycatnd @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @snowbellewells @let-it-raines @wellhellotragic @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @sophiaaz @becausetheyrehappythisway @thislassishooked @hookedmom @resident-of-storybrooke @kateroselin @kday426 @sals86 @lawgeeks @yasbio2015 @xsajx @delightfully-difficult-pirate @snowbellewells @wanderingjpg @squidvisious @tenaciouskittynight @biefaless @animatedshorts @lassluna @melsbels @meat-pie-with-sauce @roseyflush @tiganasummertree @nowforruin @qualitycoffeethings @nikkiemms @oncechicagolove @theonewiththeory @lostinwonderland314 @darkcolinodonorgasm @carpedzem @maguilar1028 @mayquita @courtorderedcake @shady-swan-jones @timeless-love-story @laschatzi @officerrogers @spartanguard @andiirivera @ouatpost @jarienn972 @winterbythesea @winterbaby89 @distant-rose @xhookswenchx @tiganasummertree​

[ellgrimm]

Sweets (OHSHC bakery AU)

He lightly dusted the rectangle of dough with fine, white flour and ran it through the sheeter one last time. Mori peeled the slightly bouncy dough off the machine bed and placed it on a tray lined with a piece of plastic film. Wrapping the film snuggly around the croissant dough, he smoothed out the indents impressed by his fingertips. He scooped the tray off the maple wood table and spun around gracefully, with habitual movement, to slip it into the fridge along with the other identical trays of dough.

With that done, he slid out of the floury work apron and traded it for a fresh one he kept tidy for sales at the front register. He washed his hands and checked for any errant streaks of flour on his face. Satisfied, Mori walked out from the fairly austere kitchen and into the world of rich woods and shining glass cases that was the customer-service side of the French patisserie shop and cafe.

Haruhi was in the middle of preparing a cup of drip coffee for a patron. Another customer just arrived at the pastry counter and stood politely, waiting to place his order. “Why don’t you see to our guest, Mori?” she asked cheerfully, as she held a gooseneck kettle and slowly circled hot water over the fresh coffee grounds, keeping an eye on the weight of water being poured. A rich, gold-black coffee dripped out the bottom of the cone filter into a ribbed glass pitcher.

Mori turned to face the pastry case and reflexively picked up a set of tongs. He performed a test click: *click*. Then he looked out over the top of the case and said in a deep and calm voice a phrase he had said at least 500 times before: “Good afternoon, what would you like today?”

But there wasn’t anyone there?

He scanned left and right.

Then he directed his gaze down and his heart skipped. A pair of enormous, caramel eyes were looking up at him from underneath a glorious mop of flaxen hair. The boy spoke, blushing a bit, in a voice that rang out clear and light, “Good afternoon! I would like one tartelettes aux fraises, please.” His French was pretty good, or at least it sounded good, Mori thought. “For here,” the boy added.

“Of course,” Mori replied, as he carefully lifted the mini tart off the ceramic tray. A glazed strawberry, sliced and fanned out over piped pastry cream, sat like a glistening red jewel. He placed it on a round plate and brought it over to the register counter. “Anything else today?” Mori asked.

“Can I… get a caffe mocha?” the charming and petite lad said reluctantly after reading through the coffee menu.

Mori caught the hesitation. “Yes, sir. How many shots of espresso?” he asked attentively.

The caramel eyes wibbled a little, damply, and he burst out suddenly “um? No shots? Please?”

Mori was relieved. Now he understood what the problem was: the menu did not list “hot chocolate.” He made a mental note that he should suggest a menu update to the manager. Making cute boys cry was already not his preference; and this boy in particular deserved the world, he immediately and definitively decided.

Mori nodded and completed the cash part of the transaction. “I will bring your strawberry mini tart and no-shots ‘caffe mocha’ to you in a minute, sir. There is a table with a nice view by that window, if you like.” He gestured to a small, round table that offered a glimpse across the street of a park with a duck pond. A coveted sight in urban Tokyo.

The boy smiled and practically floated over to the promised seat. He caught sight of a mama with her raft of ducklings zooming past and gasped with delight. Mori had to work incredibly hard to suppress a grin. It was everything he had hoped for.

Haruhi noticed. She noticed a lot of things, to be clear. Here, she was shocked and intrigued that Mori had said the longest continuous string of words than she had heard at any point over the past two years since he had started working here.

To be honest, she had been surprised when Kyoya had hired him on, considering how much talking is often involved in customer service. Kyoya, in an uncommonly forthcoming reveal into the inner workings of his mind, succinctly told Haruhi once that “diversity is a strength.”And that meant, in stark contrast to longtime coworker Tamaki’s effervescent and somewhat scattered personality, a staunchly grounded giant who is almost religious in keeping up on the daily labors of a bakery is certainly an asset.

Haruhi grabbed a silver dessert spoon and placed it and a napkin on the wooden serving tray, next to the strawberry mini tart. She winked at Mori as he finished making what was honestly a hot chocolate. He grunted softly, as if to say “hush, you.”

---

He came in every day that week. And every day he tried a different sweet pastry. As far as Mori could tell, he loved them all equally.

And Kyoya saw no objection to adding Hot Chocolate to the official cafe menu. “It’s not seasonally appropriate, but there has been an anti-caffiene health trend picking up lately,” he said decisively.

On the last day of his work week, Mori once again watched the boy leave the shop for the day. This time, the boy, busy looking at his phone, bumped into a trio of well-built, strong young men. He started to apologize for running into them, and Mori panicked a little, instinctively leaping over the counter and dashing past the other customers sitting at their tables. A blur of hyperactivity in an otherwise amazingly calm and inviting space.

And then Mori stopped, his heart beating hard.

“Haninozuka-sensei! We are so very sorry for getting in your way!” the trio barked, stiffly and respectfully bowing. Honey smiled kindly and waved them off.

“Oh, no, it was my fault entirely! I must have been busy with my own thoughts,” Haninozuka offered brightly. And after a quick exchange of pleasantries, he turned and walked up the street.

The trio lingered and talked amongst themselves. Mori tried not to listen, sort of. But he desperately needed to know more about this Haninozuka person. Their… sensei?

“Sensei was so...” Said the first one.

“I know! He’s been such a goddamn hardass at the dojo lately. I wasn’t expecting it.” The second offered.

“I was ready for him to beat us up right here on the sidewalk.” The third expressed, now relieved.

Mori was dumbfounded. This bubbly slip of a lad who giggled at baby ducks and was afraid to ask for a coffee without coffee... was apparently also a brutal martial arts teacher? He couldn’t possibly... and the name was familiar, but he couldn’t finish the thought.

Mori swam in his thoughts for a minute, completely adrift in the dissonance, before Tamaki finally caught his attention and brought him back to earth. “Mori-senpai!” he practically sang, “you left this winsome young lady before giving back her change~”

Mori’s eyes flashed and he looked back, embarrassed. “Very sorry, miss.”

“Um, well, I don’t mind!” she chirped. And she honestly hadn’t minded. He had been athletic and lithe --like an action hero-- when he vaulted himself over the counter, and it had made her think spicy thoughts she would never say aloud. Not something she had expected to experience during her trip to the nicest pastry shop in the ward, but it was a surprise she would treasure for years.

---

It was an agonizing week before Haninozuka came back into the patisserie.

Mori spent every shift that week dutifully doing his work, to the best of his ability. But his ability had degraded because a solid half of his brain was fixated on this mystery. Cute? Cruel? Sweets? Sensei? It consumed him, and he was beginning to hate himself for it. It had been much easier to do this job before he had someone he so looked forward to being around.

Then Mori caught himself. Sure, the work was easier before, when he had been habitually focused entirely on the tasks. Separating eggs. Measuring flour. Shaping butter into thick slabs. Pouring coffee and picking croissants out of the case. Even washing dishes. It had become a somewhat mindless rhythm.

But Haninozuka had made him want to come to work. It made the work feel more purposeful, somehow. It was like Mori had a specific audience in mind when he wiped tables. An audience he wanted to feel safe and comfortable and happy in his domain.

But what if Haninozuka was a bad person? Those three guys had been so sure that this was an unusual side to him. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for their comments to color his idea of this boy. But he also was afraid it would be foolish to not heed their words. Surely they knew their sensei better than Mori could possibly have gotten to in a handful of hours over a few days?

But eventually, he did come back.

This time, he was escorted by the trio from before, as well as a new face. The fourth person, who had similar facial features to Haninozuka, but was a bit taller than him, also had a permanent scowl topped with a grown out bowl cut and glasses, and he was nervously eyeing Haninozuka, watching to see what he would order.

Mori was ready to push the register icon for in the hot chocolate part of the order, and jumped ahead to asking “What pastry would you like today, sir?”

Haninozuka, looking resolute, jaw clenched and without the usual gleam in his warm eyes, stated plainly “I’ll take a plain croissant and black coffee today. Thank you.” The bowl cut kid visibly relaxed a little.

Mori felt the pain in his unusually flat voice, but only nodded. “Excellent choice. Is this together or separate?”

Once he finished taking the group order, they paid and left to go sit down at a pair of tables outside on the sidewalk, well away from the previously frequented pond-viewing seat.

Mori turned to the task at hand. He brought out a set of wooden half-trays, one for each order, and selected pastries for each guest while Haruhi got to work on the drinks. Mori used the tongs to pick up the plain croissant and paused. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. It felt so wrong.

He put it back and selected a hazelnut and chocolate ganache filled croissant instead. It looked nearly identical on the outside, especially if you weren’t paying close attention. Only a small seam with chocolate peeking through could be noticed, and even then, that was on the bottom side of the pastry.

He then turned to Haruhi and said, without room for question, “make the black coffee a hot chocolate. And put all the drinks in to-go cups.”

Haruhi smiled, and used a marker to write “black” on the paper cup that would be destined to not, in fact, have any coffee in it whatsoever. She was already thinking similarly, but had been waiting for Mori to declare it officially.

Haruhi helped Mori carry the trays of drinks and pastries out to the sidewalk tables. He carefully placed the correct one in front of Haninozuka and gave a half smile. Haninozuka barely noticed, staring dead ahead, bracing himself for what would be an absolute trial of bitter drink and plain food. She distributed napkins and utensils appropriately. They both chimed “Thank you, please enjoy,” and turned to head back inside.

“Why don’t you wipe down table 3?” prompted Haruhi, who magically produced a clean damp rag and offered it to Mori. Table 3 was inside the shop, but aside from the large pane of clear glass, was right next to the sidewalk tables. The audio was barely muffled. Mori took the cloth and singlemindedly started wiping at a table that was cerftifiably already clean.

Haninozuka tremulously started with the pastry. He nibbled cautiously at one corner. He sighed.

Mori cursed silently. “You have to take a bigger bite to get to the filling!” he thought.

Haninozuka couldn’t bring himself to try a sip of black coffee yet. He went back to the croissant. This time a luscious double whammy of chocolate and hazelnut hit his tongue. His eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything.

Haninozuka Yasuchika, his brother, was taking a bite of his own pastry and found the kouign-amann satisfactorily salty as well as only lightly sweet. He grabbed his latte and brought it to his lips, then paused. He couldn’t help himself. Squinting suspiciously through his glasses, which light glinted off of even though they were all fully sitting in the shade, he prodded verbally “what about your black coffee, Mitsukuni-san?”

Mori kept pushing the cleaning rag over a now polished strip of an already spotless table and watched intently. “Mitsukuni” he thought to himself. “A nice name. And… I feel like I know it?”

Mitsukuni tried to not lament the inevitable ruination of his surprisingly edible, nay delicious, croissant. He reached for his cup and brought it closer. Holding his breath, so as not to overpower his sense of taste, he sipped delicately. Yasuchika grinned.

“Why it is perfectly tasty, brother! As usual, I mean.” Mitsukuni smiled, practically florid.

Yasuchika was caught between doubt and relief. His alien brother had so obviously hated giving up sweet things this past month. How could anyone go from entire cakes to once piece of (albeit very nice) plain bread? And from the most syrupy, whipped cream-bedecked drinks to black coffee? It was an unprecendented transformation. But on the other hand, Yasuchika felt accomplished. He had singlehandedly pressured his older brother to reform his ways. It was for the best, obviously. What sort of dojo is led by someone who would do anything for a chocolate bar? The lack of self control was shameful.

The other three guys were completely oblivious to the intimate details of sugary drama. They had simply thought it would be a good idea to bring their sensei to the only place they had seen him happy in recent memory, as part of a quiet campaign to improve the captain’s mood. Practice had gotten shockingly intense this past week, and, if they were to survive next week they needed their sensei to ease off a touch. Not that they could EVER say so to his face.

Mori checked that Mitsukuni was happily enjoying his hot chocolate and pastry, and that Yasuchika remained none the wiser. Satisfied, he decided the table’s newly worn hole was deep enough and turned back to his work behind the service counter. Haruhi winked and said nothing.

---

It was almost another week before Mitsukuni came back to the patisserie. Mori had been more patient this time. He felt firmly confident that Mitsukuni would find his way back when he was ready.

And his patience was rewarded, in a way.

Mitsukuni staggered in, after dark and only twenty minutes before closing. His eyes were bleary and his countenance groggy and listless. Mitsukuni, usually so sprightly and upright, dragged his bookbag on the ground and pulled up to the duck-watching table. Mori wasn’t sure what to do. Hand the man a hot chocolate as usual? Or… ask how he was doing???

Mori decided to walk over and offer some direct, compassionate human interaction. “Good evening,” he said, simply.

Mitsukuni looked up, with dark circles under his eyes.

He slammed his hand on the table, which startled Mori for but a moment, and said “I wanna shot!”

“...” said Mori.

“Of chocolate syrup, I mean. Like, a couple pumps in an espresso glass.”

Mori left and came back in an inhumanly fast turnaround with exactly that, and offered the teeny glass full of viscous sugary syrup to Mitsukuni, who promptly sucked it down and smacked the glass upside down on the table. “Another!” he garbled.

Mori didn’t remember grabbing the entire syrup bottle, but it was in his hand already. He decided not to think too hard about that and just left the entire thing on the table and walked away, back to cleaning up behind the counter for the night.

Well after the shop closed, with most of the lights off, save for the one over the register, Mori was done closing with one exception. Mitsukuni was finishing the last of the chocolate syrup. He had perked up considerably, and was now waving his arms animatedly, talking fast about his troubles.

“And Chika-chan comes up to me, and says, you know what he says?” Mori did not know. “He says that real men don’t like sweet things! He tells me I won’t be able to get any respect from my men if I keep eating midnight cakes and carrying candies in my pockets!”

Mori assumed Chika-chan must be the grumpy boy in glasses from the other day. He couldn’t say he liked him, particularly. Or, to be more precise, he didn’t like anyone who dared tell Mitsukuni that his respectability was dependent on having “appropriate” and “masculine” interests.

Mitsukuni blurted out a final exclamation of “Chika doesn’t have the balls to talk shit about Usa-chan, though!” and he… passed out.

Mori didn’t know who this Usa-chan was, but he did know that the shop was closed and that Mitsukuni needed to go home. But where was home?

He decided to try something. He looked up the name “Mitsukuni” along with the words “Bunkyo ward” and “dojo.” The search results were conveniently helpful, offering a website that encouraged serious karate students to sign up under the tutelage of Haninozuka Mitskuni.

“Oh. He is really that Haninozuka,” Mori thought to himself. Ages ago, there had been a falling out between their families. Once a close bond through fealty and eventually marriage and bloodline between the Haninozuka and the Morinozuka families, had been broken a couple generations back. The stories we still told, the wounds still fresh. Mori hadn’t even thought about them as “real” since they had become more of a background radiation to his life than a pressing influence. Until today, that is.

He grabbed the leather book bag and slung it over his shoulder, and then picked Mitsukuni up gingerly. Mitsukuni remained unconscious, a few smears of chocolate around his mouth. A legendary sugar crash.

Mori locked up the shop, without even having to put the boy down. He walked towards the Haninozuka family dojo, which was close by.

The lights were on. It was fairly quiet on the grounds. Only once voice was shouting from inside the dojo training hall as they practiced the forms.

Mori called out. “Excuse me. I have your sensei.”

A surprised face poked out. It was Yasuchika. “My… sensei? Oh, you mean my brother, Mitsukuni.” He looked suspiciously at Mori. “Who are you? What did you do to him?”

“I work at the French pastry shop up the street. I didn’t do anything, he was just very very tired.”

Mori purposefully “forgot” to mention his name. And he didn’t want to stick around to find out what Yasuchika really thought of him, especially with their families at odds.

Instead, he gently deposited Mitsukuni’s slumbering form on a training mat and put the book bag down next to him. Mori looked into his calm, round face and committed it to memory. Then he issued a quick departing bow and turned away, leaving the compound. He didn’t look back with his eyes, but a small part of him looked forward with his heart, in a complicated way.

He couldn’t shake that, despite it all, he still wanted to see this Haninozuka back at his patisserie and cafe. He walked home, tired.

[iamtheblondestblonde]

Last Christmas

AN: Listening to Christmas songs in September is totally normal, right? I was inspired by a couple of songs and I’m procrastinating even though I should really study for some upcoming exams but I had to finish this first. Please enjoy this angsty fluff (is that even a thing?) with one of our favorite Hockey Hunks™.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: There might be a swear word or two and one mention of sex but that’s it

My other writing can be found here

For the first time since the move you finally felt at home and not out of place. To anyone it might only be a regular Wednesday but to you it was more than that. Today marked the day you’d finally managed to clear out the last few boxes, ridding yourself of the only remaining evidence that proved you were alone in a new city, a new country.

You wouldn’t stay alone for long though, your new job was set to start on Monday and you’d always made friends fairly fast so you weren’t worried in the slightest, instead enjoying the quiet that was your apartment for now.

With Christmas less than a month away you’d finally managed to decorate the apartment accordingly and to say you were proud would be an understatement. Picking out a Christmas tree by yourself had been an adult awakening, something you’d always dreamt about. 

When you were younger you had imagined a certain someone with you so you could decorate side by side but that hadn’t been an option in years. Although with the move it could be, but you quickly pushed that thought out of your head.

Locating the box with the decorations - some you’d stolen from home - had taken quite a while but as you held the hand-painted angel that had once belonged to your great-grandmother in your hands all trouble was forgotten. You’d have to climb on a stool or something to get it on top of the tree but for now you carefully set it aside, taking a look at your surroundings instead. 

The string lights made your apartment glow in warm light that only added to the appeal of the city lights shining in through the big windows. The new job had come with a very attractive signing bonus and while the place wasn’t huge, the modern finishes had made you fall in love instantly.

You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed because you’d been so immersed in decorating and cleaning but the sun had long set and your supper had been quite a while ago. The TV was still on from when you’d turned it on for some background noise, not really paying attention but instead focusing on humming along to your Christmas playlist.

You put on some water and quickly changed into a pair of comfortable leggings and your favorite sweatshirt from your time at Dalhousie University so you could spend the rest of your evening cuddled up on the couch with a mug of tea and continue the series you’d started to binge watch a couple of weeks ago. You’d only just pulled the hem of the sweatshirt down your body when you heard your doorbell ring.

Who would show up at your apartment unannounced at this time?

You quickly made your way back into the living space and over to the door so you could check the peep-hole, your heart skipping a beat once you realized who was on the other side of the door. For a second you contemplated simply not opening, but while you were many things in your life, a coward wasn’t one of them. 

You knew he could tell that you were home from the music still playing over the speakers and the lights probably escaping your apartment through the slit below the door so you didn’t hesitate long before unlocking the door with shaky hands and swinging it open.

Seeing him again, leaning against the wall opposite your apartment door, was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water at your face. As soon as he realized that you’d actually opened the door he practically jumped from his spot and took two big steps until he was standing a lot closer to you. 

You looked up at him, really looked up at him and with him standing there, looking so much like the Pierre you knew but so differently at the same time you felt yourself being catapulted to the day that changed your life all these years ago.

NHL Entry Draft Day back in 2016.

You weren’t religious by any means and you only ever went to church on Christmas out of a feeling of obligation towards your parents but God had you prayed for Pierre to stay close to you. It hadn’t been fair to him, you were well aware of that but for one day you allowed yourself to be selfish. You knew that he was living his dream, finally getting to play in the NHL like he’d always said he would but you were also thinking about your dreams. Dreams that involved him by your side.

Perhaps you were to blame for this mess. It was you who had fallen for the funny hockey player almost two years ago after all, knowing full well that he had big dreams that didn’t really mesh well with yours to go to university in Halifax, a place your family had gone to for ages.

You’d secretly hoped that perhaps Ottawa or Montreal would select him, even if he deserved to be picked long before it was their turn. But at least he’d be at least somewhat close to you then. When he’d been picked third by Columbus you’d been so shocked that you barely remembered kissing him on live television. You’d watched him get on that stage and put on the jersey but instead of crying happy tears at the sight of his dream coming true, you were crying because you knew that this was most likely the beginning of the end of your relationship. 

There’d be well over 2.000 kilometers between the two of you sometime soon and although you’d prepared yourself for this for weeks it still hurt more than you could ever imagine. But you still smiled at him all these hours later when you finally got to see him again, telling him how incredibly proud you were.

You tried your best to enjoy that summer, knowing full well that it might be your last one with him. With fall approaching he helped you move your stuff to Halifax while preparing for his own departure to Columbus. 

A departure that didn’t come though, because he hadn’t made the roster for the 2016-2017 season and had instead been sent back to play in Sydney, something that had devastated him.

To say that it was hard would put it mildly. You were over four hours away from him and your home and with your new life picking up keeping in touch kept getting more and more difficult. With his travels for the team and your classes you barely saw each other, a series of missed calls and late responses really the only thing that connected you to him. Christmas was the first time you’d seen him in three weeks but you still made the best of it, spending time with him every day and for a little while things were like they used to be.

When he told you that he’d been traded to Boisbriand afterwards you knew that this was it. Pierre had known as well, the defeated look in his eyes mirroring your own and giving him away. 

So you’d said your goodbyes, wanting to end things on a good note instead of going through another string of ‘Sorry I couldn’t pick up the phone earlier but call me back when you get this’ and constantly feeling left out. You’d cried, as did Pierre when you hugged him one last time, him desperately wiping your tears away and pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before leaving.

He’d ruined hockey for you then, the sport you once loved and spent so much time watching. No more time spent at the rink cuddled under your blanket and gossiping with the other girlfriends but you didn’t miss it as much as you missed him. 

You couldn’t even bear to watch him on TV so you’d missed when he scored his first NHL goal during his very first game in the league and all the other ones that followed. It was only when the Blue Jackets had their playoff run earlier this year that you’d finally managed to look at his face on your screen, over two years after you’d last seen him in person.

But now he was here, standing in front of you again.

“I-“, he began before stopping himself, rubbing his hand over his face before dropping it back down to his side and continuing, “I’m sorry for just barging in like this but my mom told me you moved here and I didn’t see it until after the game but I just had to come see for myself. Apparently our families still talk..”

You finally allowed yourself to properly looking at him, trailing your eyes over the features that were once so familiar. He’d grown a bit since you’d last seen him, not just in height but he was also a lot bulkier and more muscular than he used to be, filling out the suit jacket that sat snugly around his shoulders. He must have come straight from the game, hair still a bit wet and curlier than ever, a black pea coat folded over his arm and a duffel bag slung around his torso. You felt a bit out of place in your comfortable clothes compared to his suit that was probably designer but then you scolded yourself because this was Pierre and he’d seen you a lot worse.

“Yeah I know. I ran into your mom this summer when she was in our kitchen for a wine night they apparently have regularly.” You didn’t tell him how hard it had been to not ask about how he was doing and instead make bland small talk before you could finally disappear to your old room.

How could your parents not be friends anymore after your mothers had once joked about wanting a wine bar exclusively for them at your wedding? You didn’t blame your mom for telling his mother either, you knew that she only had good intentions and she’d always wanted the two of you to get back together.

In fact you weren’t completely innocent in the situation either. It was you who had applied for a position in Columbus after graduating this year after all, thoughts of what could be in the back of your mind even if you were adamant about denying it.

“You look good Y/N. I didn’t think it was possible but you’re somehow even more beautiful than you were the last time I saw you.”

You were about to remind him that the last time he’d seen you your eyes had been all red and puffy from crying – which was anything but beautiful – but before you could even get one word out the vintage kettle you had put on the stove to make tea let out its loud screeching noise, indicating that the water was done. You weren’t about to be rude and just Leave Pierre in the hallway just like that so without a second thought you invited him inside before turning around to take the kettle off the stove.

“Do you want some tea as well?”, you asked on a whim, not really knowing what else to do with the stranger that wasn’t really a stranger standing in the middle of your living room. He’d taken his shoes off by the door, apparently still remembering how you much you hated it when people wore shoes indoors and you watched him carefully drape his coat over the back of a chair.

“Sure, thanks.”

You took out a second mug and carefully poured the tea over the tea bags, the scent soon filling the apartment. It was the same tea you always drank during the winter months, ever since you were a little kid. Pierre grabbed the second mug off the counter from next to you and quickly took a peak at the label before giving you a knowing smile. You’d made that tea for the both of you so many times that this felt almost normal, even if your current situation was anything but.

“I’m sorry that you guys lost tonight”, you said to fill the silence that was now falling over the apartment. He looked over with a surprised look, raising his eyebrows.

“You watched the game?”

“Not all of it. I was busy decorating and doing other stuff around the apartment but I turned it on and checked the score from time to time”, you admitted sheepishly, raising the mug to your face in pretense of blowing to battle the boiling hot water but actually hiding away from his attentive stare. He’d looked at you all kinds of ways over your years with him but you had never been nervous because of it, except for that one night with him where he’d seen you naked for the first time and you’d lost your virginities to each other.

Thinking about sex with him wasn’t helping your cause either though because while the first few times had been a little awkward but still fun, the two of you quickly improved and the images of him above you or his head between your legs were only turning your cheeks even more red.

He seemed to drop the subject, thankfully, and instead moved over towards the Christmas tree, admiring your work. You slowly followed him, mug closely clutched to your chest and sat down on the sofa, admiring the way he looked in your apartment instead. The time apart had treated him well and while it was a bit weird to see him with a beard outside of playoffs there was no denying that he looked better than ever.

“I see you still like to live in an environment that resembles hell temperature wise”, he chuckled before he put down his own mug on the couch table and shrugged off his suit jacket. You tried your best not to stare as he popped open the first two bottoms of his shirt before moving on to roll up his sleeves while sitting down a respectable distance away but you were unsuccessful. For the first time you saw his tattoos, as his skin had been innocent and bare up until your breakup but you couldn’t ignore how good he looked with them. Your hands were itching to trace the patterns and because you didn’t entirely trust yourself to be able to control yourself you sat on them to avoid any embarrassment.

You hadn’t even realized that your Christmas playlist had continued playing over the speakers until the familiar opening tunes of “Last Christmas” filled the apartment. You quickly jumped up, reaching for your phone so you could stop the music from playing. It reminded you too much of the last Christmas you’d had with Pierre, now almost three years ago. You’d given him your heart and while he hadn’t exactly given it away he’d still broken it when he’d left.

When you turned back around you noticed the slight blush that painted his cheeks, he’d apparently come to the same realization as you. For a moment the silence was uncomfortable and you were reminded of the time right before the breakup when you didn’t know what to say or do around him, always walking on eggshells for fear of losing him. You’d lost him either way but that was beside the point.

Pierre cleared his throat before speaking up, ripping you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“Y/N I- I have to ask. Why are you here?”

You knew that you should just be honest and tell him that you were in a way here because of him but you weren’t ready to take that kind of leap just yet. You hadn’t kept up with his personal life for fear of finding something you couldn’t bear and for all you knew he could have a girlfriend right now.

“Well why are you?”, you simply responded instead, leaning back on the couch so you could properly gauge his reaction. You weren’t the one who had knocked on his door late at night.

“Fair enough, I guess”, he huffed before running his hand over his face in the way that had once been so familiar to you.

“When I read that text from my mom, telling me that you lived in Columbus now – that you weren’t thousands of kilometers away anymore I just had to see you. I called my mom to ask if she had your address and you have no idea how smug she sounded when she said she’d text it to me.”

You chuckled at his exasperated expression, knowing full well how his mother could be but stayed quiet to let him continue.

“The team knows about you as well and if I even told you half the shit I had to listen to when I practically sprinted out of the locker room you wouldn’t believe me.”

This made you laugh out loud and when you saw him smile at you fondly your heart skipped a beat for the second time that night.

“What I’m actually trying to say – but failing miserably at – is that I never really got over you and seeing you know only confirmed that. I can’t believe I let you go all these years ago, I was an idiot for thinking I could do it without you because I was absolutely miserable after leaving you”, he finished and you hadn’t even realized that you’d started crying until he reached up to gently wipe your tears away.

“Look I know that we can’t just continue like nothing happened but please bébé, please give me a second chance. I won’t leave you again, I promise.” The fact that he’d used the pet name he’d given you when you first started dating was all it took for you to leap towards him. He wrapped his arms around you as well, creating that perfect cocoon of Pierre that you’d missed so much. When he kissed your forehead this time you couldn’t feel your heart breaking, instead the warmth that flooded your body only glued all those pieces back together.

You knew that there was still a chance that he’d get traded again and that because of his job he’d have to spend quite some time on the road but you’d been miserable after he’d left as well. At least this time you’d know that he’d always come back for you.

“I’m so glad that our mothers love their wine nights and gossip, otherwise you never would’ve knocked at my door and I never would’ve gotten you back.”

“So we’re really doing this? We’re trying again?”, he asked, pulling you back at arm’s length so he could properly take a look at you. You nodded, not being able to stop the big smile spreading on your face.

“Would it be completely out of place if I kissed you right now?”

“Not at all”, you responded before crawling closer towards him until you straddled his lap. His hands reached up to cup your face, thumbs wiping the last of your tears away – happy tears this time – and then he finally pulled you in for a kiss.

Nothing felt more like coming home than kissing Pierre.

The way his lips moved against yours was so familiar that you couldn’t help but sigh into the kiss, reaching up for his shoulders so you could ground yourself in him while simultaneously getting lost in the way his body felt against yours. He buried his hands in your hair and his beard was scratching your skin but you didn’t care, instead letting him pull you closer and deepening the kiss until the only thought you could form was IloveyouIloveyouIloveyoustill.

Eventually you had to pull away though, both of you panting at the lack of air and the closeness of your bodies. It had been so long since you’d last felt his breath fan across your face like this, seen the look in his eyes as he looked at you with absolute wonder but it was as if nothing had changed, the two of you easily picking up where you left off.

“You know that our moms are gonna take credit for that, right? We’re never gonna hear the end of it”, he suddenly groaned and you giggled at his exasperated tone.

“I can live with that as long as it means that I get to have you with me again.”

He pulled you in for another sweet kiss before letting you go again, smiling up at you. You watched his gaze shift to something behind you, twisting your body in his lap so you could see what had caught his attention.

“Is that the Y/L/N Christmas angel? Did you steal it?” He stood up with you still in his lap, slowly putting you down before walking over to where you’d set the decoration earlier.

“It is but I didn’t steal it. Mom gave it to me so I’d have a piece of home with me. I’m not tall enough to put it on the top though and I haven’t gotten around to finding something to climb yet.”

“Need some help with putting it up? Here’s another piece of home ready to be climbed”, Pierre said, extending his arms to the sides and taking a step backwards so he was standing by the tree, angel still in one hand. You shook your head at him while laughing but you still moved closer, ready to climb him like a tree like you’d done hundreds of times before.

Still laughing you jumped on his back and he handed you the angel before wrapping his arms around your legs to support you. With combined forces you were able to complete the tree and Pierre let you down so you could both properly admire your work. 

Your dream had come true after all. 

You felt him move away from you before he was standing right behind you again, the famous tune of Wham! playing again over the speakers. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and you placed your hands on his forearms, slowly tracing your fingers over the black ink under his skin.

“You’re mon ange Y/N, you know that right? My angel. My someone special.”

Standing on your tippy toes you placed a soft kiss on his jaw before leaning your head back against him, not really knowing how to put your feelings in words right now but you knew he understood by the way he squeezed you tightly, resting his head on top of yours.

This year you’d given your heart to someone truly special.. again.

Feedback is always appreciated 🥰🥰

[sailorspazz]

10 Dance Vol. 6 Special Edition overview

Volume 6 of the 10 Dance manga was released in Japan on March 18th, 2021. As with volumes 4 and 5, there are both regular and special editions available. In this post, I will provide an overview of the release, including observations on changes that were made to the chapters compared to how they were printed in the magazine, plus summaries and select scans of content from the special edition booklet.

It is often the case that when chapters come out in the manga magazines, they aren't always fully polished, and since I became highly familiar with this run of chapters from the summaries I made, several things immediately jumped out at me as I went through the book. First of all, though chapter 29 was split into two parts and released in subsequent months in the magazine, these two halves were combined into one chapter, with no indication they had ever been separate. I assume that they were always intended to be one chapter, but since the full chapter was not completed before the deadline (and it was a month when 10 Dance was being given the cover image, so not possible to delay its release), it was simply split over two months instead.

For visual changes, the most common alteration was scenes that originally had little or no screentone having it added in:

There were also some instances of either slight panel redraws, or complete replacements with new panels. None of these were from particularly important scenes, so it could just be Inouesatoh or someone on her team didn't like the look of the original panels and wanted to change them. The following example has a bit of both, with Suzuki in the upper left corner being replaced, and his eyes being redrawn in the lower panel:

Personally, the most amusing addition I noticed was when Max was thinking about throwing a party. Originally, we didn't see what he was envisioning, but in the volume, an addition has been made in the background: the New Year's piece Inouesatoh drew with sexy men dressed as cows, except now they're bunnies!

As for dialogue, it appeared to be almost the same in both versions throughout. Some minor exceptions include a spot I found where the dialogue was put in a different order, swapping Sugiki’s lines between this panel and his first line on the following page (in addition to another altered panel example):

As well as in this shot of Suzuki describing how they tug at the thread that connects them through their dance. Whereas before it put the word “dance” next to the part about tugging on the thread to specify what was meant by that, it was deleted in the volume. And while it was originally described as “affirming that we’re connected”, this was also tweaked a bit to be, “affirming our connection”.

There were a couple instances of character names being different from when they appeared earlier in the story. In this volume, two characters who were last mentioned back in volume 2 (Lucas Calvo, one of the champions at the table in Blackpool, and Deeks, who Ernie said hated Sugiki because he "stole" his girlfriend), either from typos or intentional changes, weren't the same as before. Lucas' last name was written with a 'g' sound (ガルボ) instead of a 'c' (カルボ), and this change carried over to the volume. On the other hand, Deeks' (ディクス) name got transposed as Disc (ディスク) in the magazine, but was fixed in the volume.

There was a typo that unfortunately made it through to the volume (but could perhaps be fixed in future printings). In chapter 34, when Norman is testing Suzuki's skills, he flashes back to Sugiki taking the national title from him several years earlier. The text in this scene, written in English, incorrectly states that Suzuki won the championship, rather than Sugiki.

The volume also includes the usual additions that are not present in the magazine, such as the under the cover flap comic, and Inouesatoh’s notes about each chapter.

The cover flap comic (which looks very much like a sketch, compared to previous ones that have had more complete art), features the Shinyas during a practice session earlier on in the series in December, where Suzuki complains that Sugiki’s Latin just isn’t sexy. Sugiki suggests that he can practice being sexy by wiggling his butt around to write a message in the air. Suzuki worries that if he starts writing out “love” or something, he’ll have to run away and escape. Sugiki gets started, and Suzuki calls out each letter that he can make out from his elegant butt bouncing. After figuring out he’s written “M-E-R-R-Y”, Suzuki guesses that he’s writing “Merry Christmas”. Sugiki gets mad that he said it aloud before he finished writing his message, and says he’s going to leave. Suzuki says, “Wait, I love you,” as narrative text says that this somehow turned into a love story in one panel.

And here are some tidbits I found interesting/amusing from the chapter notes:

She thinks readers who are fans of pecs will like Saichi.

She’s not sure if readers will love Max or hate him, but she personally likes him (sorry Sensei, I kinda hate him lol)

As of chapter 32, a portion of the art is now done digitally.

The epic “last dance” scene from 33 was something that she had planned since the beginning of the series, and it ended up being 8 times the cost for a typical chapter.

Special edition booklet:

The special edition comes with a 48 page hardcover booklet that includes a variety of different extras, divided into 8 sections called “heats”.

Heat 1 is a newly drawn, 12 page parody manga. Back in September 2020, Inouesatoh put out a request on Twitter for fans to send in their suggestions for an erotic side story. Putting the characters in a high school setting was the most requested scenario, so she chose this idea as the basis for the story. The title is “And All That Jazz” (the premise makes this somewhat confusing to summarize, so keep in mind that I’ll mostly be describing their actions based on the soul rather than the body, but will use quotation marks if it’s about other characters and who they think they’re addressing. It’ll all make sense, I promise...I think :P)

(The title page actually depicts the ending of the story, so I’ll come back to it later). It starts with Suzuki narrating his introduction, saying that he’s a transfer student to the Standard Academy. He really doesn’t get along with a guy named Sugiki, but for some reason, the two have now switched bodies with each other. Sugiki opens his shirt and inspects his new physique in front of other students, as Suzuki yells out asking what the hell he’s doing to his body. They look at themselves wearing each other’s expressions, Sugiki seeming surprised his mouth can gape open like that, and Suzuki wondering what happened to his body’s facial expression muscles. The bell rings and Sugiki heads off to class, as Suzuki is baffled that he can act so calm about this.

Sugiki perfectly reads a passage aloud in English class, something everyone (including the teacher, who looks like Norman) find unusual coming from “Suzuki”, as they wonder where his usual hearts are. Suzuki makes the decision to enjoy living as Sugiki for a bit, and is shown getting flirty with several girls. He notes that the more serious personality in his regular body is also strangely popular, though with a very different crowd.

A student named Alberko (Alberto in a girl’s uniform) shows up and says that “Sugiki” was supposed to have lunch with her(?) today. Suzuki says that he thought Alberko was going out with Dorou (a masculine alteration to Dolores’ name). Ernie and Suzuki watch as his harem falls apart with Alberko running amok. Ernie comments that both “Sugiki” and that transfer student have been acting weird all week, and he asks if something happened. Suzuki internally reflects back to one week earlier, when he was relaxing in bed in the infirmary. Sugiki comes in and accuses him of skipping class, and Suzuki tells him to mind his own business. He thought this would turn into one of their usual fights, but he can’t believe that actually happened instead...

After school, Sugiki asks Suzuki if they can go home together today. As they’re walking, Suzuki asks if Sugiki realizes what it was that made them switch places, and Sugiki says he does. Suzuki says that in that case, they know how they need to fix it, and they should go over to his house. Sugiki asks for clarification of whose house exactly he means by that.

As they start to get undressed, Suzuki says that he always thought his mom and sisters were annoying, but after a week apart he really misses them. Sugiki promises that he’ll make sure he can see them soon. Suzuki claims that he’ll be the one making Sugiki come, and Sugiki asks how he can talk like that when he was the one who looked like he was about to cry when Sugiki first touched him in the infirmary.

Sugiki peeks into Suzuki’s pants and wonders if he won’t get hard unless he touches him. Suzuki thinks it’d be weirder if he could get hard while looking at his own face, and wonders if Sugiki has AI in his crotch or something (Sugiki contends that it’s not his body). They fool around with each other until they finish, and Suzuki wonders why they didn’t change back yet. Sugiki suggests that maybe it needs to be just like the last time to count as a complete set, when they went at it until they fell off the bed, so both agree that they need to go for one more round. This then ties back to the title page, where they’ve finally managed to get back into their old bodies, but have now sprouted cat ears and tails.

Heat 2 of the booklet is 8 pages long, and contains short comics and illustrations that were not previously included in the volume releases. The comics include “How to 10 Dance”, a one-page comic with the Shinyas demonstrating the tango. Their privates end up touching, and Sugiki seems highly amused, gleefully asking Suzuki how it feels. Suzuki says that he was the one who got all bent out of shape over that back in volume 1, and tells him to lay off the sadist mode since they’re not dancing Latin right now. The second comic is “2nd Step”, and shows a glimpse of how the Shinyas were with each other after Suzuki gave the go-ahead for kissing. In fact, Sugiki ends up kissing him so much that Suzuki’s lips get sore and swollen. Sugiki then tries to kiss his neck as an alternative, but Suzuki’s not having it. The third comic depicts Suzuki’s first time in a public bath, where he realizes that Japanese people aren’t fully shaved everywhere like he is. Some of the old guys talk to him and slap their balls with their towels, and Suzuki, seeming a bit confused, gives his own balls a slap, too. After the comics are a selection of illustrations that were never used in the volumes, including this one from a Real 10 Dance event in 2018:

Heat 3 is 18 pages, and contains a variety of colored versions of both chapter covers and scenes from the manga, a couple of which I’ll share below:

Heat 4 includes 3 pages of insight from the professional dancers who consult for the manga, in which they explain the moves shown in specific panels.

Heat 5 is a single page look at Inouesatoh’s work space.

Heat 6 is 3 pages worth of advertisements that have been used to promote the series, including things like ads that were posted in subway stations:

Heat 7 is a single page look at the storyboard for chapter 1 of the manga.

Heat 8 is a single page showing the covers for foreign editions of the manga (Taiwanese, Korean, North American, and French).

Finally, there’s one last page with a thank you message from Inouesatoh, including an absolutely precious illustration of the Shinyas in happier times.

And that’s that! This really is an incredible release, and I’d definitely recommend picking up the special edition if you can. CD Japan offers direct international shipping, and I’ve also seen that Kinokuniya lists it as “available to order” currently (though they don’t appear to have stock on hand, so might take longer).

[thisfits]

MR PORTER Sale is Now Up to 60% Off and Actually Feels Kinda Manageable

MR PORTER kicked off their massive spring/summer sale a couple weeks ago, and have now made their first round of further discounts, adding more merchandise to the sale and further reducing price to as low as 60% off.

I’ve previously written about how the scale of the sale makes it overwhelming to sort through. And although the current iteration includes over 7,000 products (down from 13,000 when the sale went live—sorry, guys) from hundreds of designers, to me it somehow feels more manageable than in past years.

A helpful change at this point of the sale is the addition of two new pages.

New to Sale merchandise is from a pretty short list of designers (Acne, Berluti, Brunello Cucinelli, Dunhill, Jacquemus, MR P., Nike, and Serapian).

Further Reductions, including the merchandise that’s now up to 60% off, features a much longer and more interesting list. Here are a bunch of my favorites:

A.P.C. - Parisian casual staples.

Albam - London casual staples.

Alex Mill - American casual staples (is there a theme here?) Founded by Alex Drexler (son of famed J. Crew CEO Mickey Drexler) and J. Crew/Madewell design director Somsack Sikhounmuong.

AMI Paris - More Parisian casual staples.

Aspesi - Italian label best known for their outerwear. I like this navy cotton A-1 bomber jacket.

Baracuta - I’m liking the classic G9 Harrington jackets made up in alternative fabrics like suede and wool tweed

Barena - Laidback Italian tailoring.

Bigi - Handcrafted Milanese ties, often with interesting textures.

Blue Blue Japan - everything is blue (they’re known for their use of indigo dyes) and it’s designed and made in Japan, so the name is apropos. I love the texture and detailing on this shirt jacket. All sizes are still available, a rarity this late in Mr. Porter’s sale.

Boglioli - Unstructured Italian tailoring. My Boglioli cotton jacket has been a casual spring/summer staple for nearly a decade.

Brooks England - English cycling accessories, including some lovely leather backpacks.

Caruso - My favorite ready-to-wear Italian tailoring brand.

Chimala - Japanese label inspired by mid-century American workwear.

Common Projects - Iconic Italian sneakers. Of course the white Achilles Low isn’t on sale, but other models are.

De Bonne Facture - I dare you to read Derek’s recent piece on the brand and not be inspired by their approach to sustainable, ethical fashion.

Drake’s - Iconic accessories brand that’s expanded to a complete wardrobe. Tip: Drake’s collaboration pieces also available through Aimé Leon Dore and Mr. Porter’s house brand Kingsman.

E. Marinella - Handmade Neapolitan ties from a third-generation family business. 

George Cleverley - Goodyear-welted English shoes.

Gitman Vintage - Well-made American shirts based on archival designs.

Golden Bear - San Francisco brand specializing in quality outerwear.

Howlin’ - Knitwear designed in Antwerp and knit in Scotland.

Inis Meáin - Luxurious knitwear from the namesake Irish Aran isle.

John Smedley - Fine (as in, not chunky) English knitwear.

Johnstons of Elgin - Scottish cashmere accessories.

Kingsman - Mr. Porter house label with a focus on luxury tailoring. Great collaboration pieces from Drake’s (ties and pocket squares) and George Cleverley (shoes).

Lock & Co. Hatters - Well-made flat caps and trilbys.

MR P. - Mr. Porter’s “citified casual” house label. I’m really liking their suede trucker jacket.

Officine Générale - Accessible yet still interesting French style.

Outerknown - Casualwear label founded by surfer Kelly Slater. 

Private White V.C. - Fantastic English outerwear.

RRL - Ralph Lauren’s vintage/workwear/Western line. I’ve been eyeing this cotton/wool/linen rollneck sweater.

S.N.S. Herning - Scandinavian knitwear. I’m loving this chunky shawl cardigan.

Sid Mashburn - Best known for their American-Italian tailoring with a Southern flair, but I’m liking a lot of the knitwear in this sale.

Valstar - Famed for their suede A-1 bombers, but don’t sleep on their overshirts and trucker jackets.

Vetements - I honestly don’t “get” Vetements, but I want to point out that their Hug Me Bear shearling slippers are still available.

William Lockie - Well-made Scottish cashmere accessories.

There are many, many more brands both in Further Reductions and in the general sale section that haven’t got additional cuts yet. I’ve also left off a few favorites that only have one or two items left. It’s definitely worth taking a moment to browse your favorites on the All Sale Designers page. 

BUY: Up to 60% off at MR PORTER Sale

I may earn a commission if you buy through a link in this post. Learn more here about my stance on affiliate links, sponsorships, and product reviews.

Never miss a post: sign up for the This Fits newsletter.

[audreyxmoon]

i’d do anything for you

gif by @spencexreidimagine​

warnings: kidnapping, guns, assault, things go downhill pretty quick, torture, angst

You weren’t a flirt, okay, maybe you were a little. But you couldn’t help yourself! Everyone has a hamartia, and that was yours. You really couldn’t help yourself. You tucked your hair behind you ear as you made coffee with Reid in the BAU kitchen. He began pouring in his usual amount of sugar and almost stopped when he met your judgemental gaze. 

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’ You say lightly, sipping your coffee.

‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘Why so much sugar Doc? Some would say that’s bad for you.’ You reply. 

Spencer rolled his eyes. ‘Some of us like it sweet.’

‘Like it sweet hey?’ You ask, making him blush. The ends of his lips quirked up as he looked down at his sneakers.

‘If you’re missing some sugar in your life i’ve got some to spare.’ You say with a wink, making Reid turn even more red if that was possible. ‘Speaking of...’ You say, touching Garcia’s shoulder and pulling her in. 

‘Here’s the sweetest person on the floor.’ 

‘See ya Reid.’ You say with a little wave before sashaying over to your desk to talk to Luke who wanted to discuss a case, not before you whispered in his ear something which made both of you laugh and look over at a virtually glowing Reid. 

‘You can’t keep teasing him like this Y/N. You’ll drive the poor guy insane.’ 

‘Luke- I’m just having fun.’ You whined. ‘Look he’s... fine?’ You say looking back over at Reid, who in an attempt to act cool had somehow managed to knock over the sugar and was furiously trying to clean up the mess. 

‘Look at boy wonder! He’s losing it.’ Luke whispered in surprise.

Prentiss made her way over to you two. ‘We’ve got a case. Wheels up in thirty, I’ll brief you on the plane.’ 

...

You and the team had settled in at the local police station and Prentiss had left you and Reid to work on the geographical profile. Reid had been avoiding you since this morning’s incident and you almost... missed him? You felt his presence behind you and you turned around to see him standing close to you.

‘Uh- Y/N could you please ask one of the officers if there are any popular party sites near by?’

‘Sure.’ You say tentatively, squeezing past him to reach the door. ‘Want anything from the office?’ You ask. 

‘No thanks.’ He said with a smile. You couldn’t help but think he was trying to get rid of you.

You found an officer sitting at his desk.  

‘Um, officer... Holder, hi! I was wondering if there are any common party sites around here? I’m SSA Y/N by the way.’ You sat up on his desk.

‘Yes, in-fact I know a few.’

You put your map down on the table and let Officer Holder circle the locations. 

‘Thank you so much Officer Holder!’ You said gratefully.

‘Please, just call me Ben.’ 

‘Well thank you Ben.’ You restated. ‘I love your necklace by the way.’ You say, catching the gold glimmering lightly around his neck. 

‘Oh, thank you.’ Ben stammered. ‘You can touch it if you’d like.’ He said holding it up to the light. You saw there was a neat tag with his name engraved attached. You delicately played with the chain, bringing your face close to his. ‘It’s gorgeous.’ 

He smiled. ‘You free for drinks after work?’ He asked. 

You jumped down from the table where you were intercepted by Reid who threw his arm over your shoulders, which was a lot more contact than you were used too. However, you felt yourself relax into his touch. 

‘We don’t drink on the job Officer.’ Spencer said with more ferocity in his tone that usual. 

‘C’mon Y/N I’ve made progress on the profile.’ he said, steering you away. 

‘What was that about?’ You giggle once you’re both back in the conference room and Reid had let go of you. 

‘Did you see the way that cop was looking at you?’ He hissed. 

‘Was it like how you’re looking at me now? Because that’s kinda hot.’ You joke, cocking your head. But Spencer’s being completely serious when he pushes you up against the wall, hands by either side of your head. 

‘Will you come get drinks with me tonight?’ He asked gruffly. 

‘I thought you said, we don’t drink on the job officer? And I’m not even the one with the eidetic memory.’ You lean in closer so you and Spence’s nose’s are almost touching. Luke burst through the conference room doors causing you and Reid to quickly pull away, Spencer almost tripping in his urgency to escape. Luke spun around wordlessly closing the door behind him. He re-entered seconds later. 

‘Hi guys. Tara and I are back from the morgue.’ He said letting Tara in. 

‘The unsub is killing low risk victims who are highly intoxicated.’ Tara added, glancing at you and Reid with raised eyebrows. Prentiss and JJ came back from the crime scene just as Rossi and Matt finished interviewing the victim’s family. 

‘Okay guys.’ Prentiss began. ‘Garcia has narrowed down the local bars in the Unsub’s hunting zone. I’ve decided we need to send an agent in undercover.’ She looked over at you. ‘Y/N? You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.’ She reassured. 

‘Of course I can.’ You say confidently. ‘Whatever it takes to catch this son-unsub.’ You quickly correct yourself.

‘Spence will be there with you, Luke and Tara will be shadowing you guys from a bit of a distance. Rossi, JJ and I will be outside in an undercover van.’ 

...

‘See anyone?’ JJ asks into your ear. You shake your head, trying not to glance up at the security camera. ‘Hi!’ Spencer says brightly, approaching you. ‘Can I buy you a drink?’ 

‘Yes please.’ You reply with a smile. The bartender whips up four shots of water. You quickly down them along with a glass of ‘spirits’. Reid doesn’t match you, as you begin to act more and more intoxicated, swaying dangerously, trying to dance with Reid, who hesitantly moves along, acting as the non-complicit boyfriend. You leant into his chest as you danced. 

‘Was this your idea of drinks?’ You say with a giggle. 

Reid was quiet for a little as the music boomed around you. 

‘No, but I don’t mind dancing with you.’ He said gently looping his arms around you. You smiled, looking up at him.

‘Really?’

‘Really.’ He confirmed smiling back at you. 

The purple lights shaded his face so that shadows leaped out of his sharp features making him look like some kind of Greek God. His eyes were so soft that you felt like they were pulling you in. You stood up on your tippy-toes and kissed him. You felt his soft lips canvas yours as he pulled you closer, your hands in his hair. You finally pulled away for air, Spencer looking shocked. ‘I’ll head to the bathroom now.’ He whispered, pulling away, leaving you alone, vulnerable. You knew the unsub would approach you at any time now. You stumbled drunkenly back over to the bar where you requested more ‘shots’. Slumping onto a bar stool you began to drink when a handsome young man approached you, his hands in the pockets of a black hoodie. He sat beside you and ordered a drink. You noted how he didn’t touch it, instead glancing over at you in your sparkly mini dress. 

‘How are you little lady?’ He asked, in the belittling manner you had expected from a classic misogynist. 

‘I’m fi-ne.’ You slurred with a lopsided smile, looking at him with lidded eyes. 

‘Here alone?’ He asked, stirring his drink with the mini umbrella.

‘My boyfriend’s in the bathroom.’ You reply, taking another sip from your drink. The man grabs your thigh holding you in place. You almost jumped, forgetting you were supposed to be drunk for a moment. 

‘I think I’m going to go have a smoke.’ You say, using the prearranged code word and trying to slip out his grasp. 

‘Hey. Don’t move.’ Something bulged in his pocket. ‘I know you Agent Y/L/N.’ He spat. ‘You were on the news, a couple of years ago. And if you don’t do as I say you’ll be on the news for a different reason.’ 

‘Hey. You’re surrounded. What are you gonna do? Kill me then be killed?’ You ask.

‘Wrong.’ He says smugly, pulling you into his chest so you shielded him from Luke and Tara who had drawn their weapons while ushering everyone outside. 

‘I’m not willing to negotiate. Let me and Agent Y/L/N and I leave the premises or I shoot her.’ 

Luke and Tara looked to each other, unsure how to proceed. Suddenly, there was a gunshot in the bathroom. 

‘Reid!’ You scream. Tara nods at Luke who rushes inside the bathroom, leaving you Tara and the unsub alone. JJ enters behind Tara, her gun in its holster. ‘Thomas Jacobs, let Y/N go. This can’t end well for you unless you do.’ 

Thomas begins dragging you towards the back exit. ‘So long team.’ He says with a smile. The door is pushed open by another man who is also holding a gun which is aimed at the team. You hadn’t profiled a partner, it didn’t make sense at all. Nothing in the profile suggested an accomplice. You were thrown into the back of a van which careened away, sirens following closely behind. The van stopped and you almost cried as you heard sirens continue past you. The doors opened again, and you were faced with the unsub and his partner. 

‘I did what you asked.’ Thomas growled. 

‘Tie her up.’ The partner demanded. Thomas complied. 

‘Now put her in the back of the van.’ Thomas dragged you over the the back of a van where he roughly threw you in, locking you into the darkness. There was a gunshot outside, and you grimaced. 

‘Y/N?’ A weak voice asked. 

You squinted into the darkness making out the silhouette of a man slouched in the back of the van. 

‘Spence?’ You ask. You scrabble over to him. ‘Are you okay?’

He nods. ‘They- injected me with something.’ He said with panic. 

‘It’s okay Reid. You’re awake now.’ You try and reassure him. You can hear his breathing pick up. You desperately want to hug him, but your arms are tied back so you just lean against him as the van wobbles and shakes.

‘Breathe with me please?’ You request, taking slow deep breaths. 

You breath peacefully together. The van stops and you turn to face Spencer as the doors open, and you’re pulled away. You struggle in your captor’s arms but your restricted movement makes it impossible to escape. 

‘Y/N!’ Reid yells from the van before he’s pulled out and thrown down next to you. The unsub pulls out two chairs and seats you in them, laughing cruelly when you try and bite him. ‘It seems someone wants to speak to you.’ The unsub says, walking away. You look around the warehouse, looking for a way to escape until another man walks into the room. 

‘Hello agents.’ He snarls.

You both stare at him blankly. 

‘You’re here because your team took someone from me.’ 

You laugh. ‘You might have to be a little more specific.’ 

He turns to face you, his face twisted with rage. He storms towards you.

‘Specific?’ He grabs your face roughly so you’re forced to look up at him. 

‘Get your hands off her.’ Reid seethes, thrashing in his seat. 

‘I hope your team remembers my brother, Mr Scratch? You’re the reason why he’s dead.’  

‘Mr Scratch didn’t have a brother.’ You say, looking into Reid’s eyes, watching as his hands fiddled with the knot behind him. 

‘Not by blood.’ The unsub said. ‘I’m here to finish what Peter started. Now where is Hotchner.’ 

‘I don’t know.’ You say honestly. 

‘Oh I know you don’t.’ The unsub replied. ‘But he does.’ He gestured at Reid, pulling his revolver out from his pocket. He emptied out every bullet but one, and aimed it at your head. 

‘Tell me where agent Hotchner is.’ He demanded, facing Reid. 

‘Don’t!’ You say, earning a blow to the head which left you reeling. 

‘You touch her again I will kill you.’ Reid’s tone is lower than you’ve ever heard it.

The unsub just laughed. ‘Would you take a bullet for Doctor Reid?’ He asked. 

‘I’d do anything for you.’ You say, looking directly at Reid as the unsub pulls the trigger. You don’t even flinch. Reid nods at you, and you flip yourself, chair and all, into the unsub knocking him to the floor. Reid, who had been untying himself the entire time, ran over, holding the unsub down and tying him up with his own rope. Reid quickly untied you and reloaded his gun, aiming it at his head. 

‘Reid.’ You whisper. ‘Don’t do this.’

His hands shook as he looked over at you. ‘I don’t know if I can.’ He said. You stepped in front of him, holding his hand in yours, looking up into his eyes. 

‘Spence.’ Your voice shook. ‘You’ll never forgive yourself.’

He turned off the safety. 

‘I’ll never forgive you.’ 

He lowered the gun. You grabbed him, holding him close to you. His arms wrapped around your waist as he sobbed into your shoulder. Your tears were smothered by his vest. The locked warehouse door burst open as SWAT and the BAU entered, the team heading straight to you and Reid. ‘Are you okay?’ Prentiss asked as Matt yelled for the Medics to come over. You nodded, you and Reid hesitantly moving apart. The medics worked on the cut on your head, but the whole time your eyes never left Reid. You tried to convince yourself that the infatuation building inside of you was just the trauma, but deep down you knew you had loved him ever since you had met him on your first day at the BAU. 

[pluto-writes]

Kunikida Doppo x Reader | Fluff Alphabet

A/n: Kunikida makes an appearance! To that one Kunikida anon, I hope you see this and I did him well. This is the most I’ve written so far for the fluff alphabets... He was just a fun character to write about. I have 2 more to go and maybe, maybe, if these get a good amount of love I’ll do a third one... I heard that the character starts with a C...

Words: 2,764

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Kunikida loves to do typical romantic things with you. It’s all in his book of Ideals, of course. Whenever he is out on jobs or errands for the Agency, he keeps an eye out for date spots to take you to. 

On his days off, he’ll take you out for a picnic date at the park. He thinks the park is the perfect place since its calming, and he believes the sun enhances your natural beauty. 

He’ll pack your favorite snacks, and you’ll bring a blanket and things to do while you’re at the park. Whether it be reading or playing board games, he enjoys doing it all with you.

You guys also occasionally go fishing together. You had learned that it was a favorite hobby of his, and wanted to be able to do it together. So you had planned this fishing trip, and successfully managed to do so without him noticing.

When you took him to the beach, he became ecstatic when he found out it was to go fishing. And to his luck he managed to catch his favorite type of fish, bonito. You offered to cook it for him once you guys went home, and he thoroughly enjoyed his lightly roasted bonito.

Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He loves how much you understand him. You don’t make fun of him for his ideals or his need to stick to his schedule. You even help him keep track of what he has to do for the day, and offer a helping hand when needed. 

He also admires your dedication towards your work. It was what initially drew him in, in the first place. He notices all the effort and time you put into your work, and seeing you encourages him to get through the day without letting Dazai distract him. 

He thinks your hands are your most striking feature. They fit into his hands so comfortably and holding them soothes him instantly.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He would take you away from the situation, as far as he can so he can get you somewhere quiet. Once he gets you to a quiet place, his next plan of action will get you to start talking about what’s bothering you. 

To do that he’ll start talking to you to help calm you down, since you had mentioned before how much you liked his voice. After a while, he’ll manage to calm you down, and once he does, you’ll feel confident enough to confide in him about what has been bothering you.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He has it all written in his book of Ideals. He pictures getting married to you after you’ve been dating for two years. He prefers quiet afternoons with you, if days are uneventful that means that things are going according to his ideals.

He has his ideals, but he also understands that you have your own too. If there’s anything you don’t want to go through with, he would completely accept your choice and wouldn’t force you.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

The relationship the two of you share is rather balanced. He doesn’t want to be overbearing, or controlling. Plus, he loves it when you know what you want. 

He wants someone that can make decisions for themselves, of course with that being said he doesn’t mind if you come to him for help sometimes. However, if it was a common trend he wouldn’t be able to put up with it.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Kunikida is quick to forgive, mostly since he doesn’t like conflict. At times he is quick to anger if you push the right buttons, but why would you? Though he knows to only apologize when he is in the wrong. 

He’ll need time to cool off first before talking with you again, but after that you guys are fine. Fighting with Kunikida isn’t fun since he tends to raise his voice when he’s agitated, and the volume he talks in is a bit scary. It’ll be mostly verbal, since he knows that communication is valuable in a relationship. And while he may not agree with you, that doesn’t mean he can’t listen to your reasoning.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Kunikida overall is a very grateful man, but above all he’s thankful about your entire existence. And he makes sure to tell you so every chance he gets. He may not notice the small things you do for him, but when everything is going smoothly he figures you had something to do with it and will thank you accordingly.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

He believes in an open and honest relationship. And he’s aware that in order for it to work, there has to be a sense of trust between the two of you. Cause if he doesn’t open up to you how would you feel safe enough to confide in him? 

There are moments he’d rather not mention, but he knows that talking about it will help him get through it, and he has complete faith in you. He’ll come to you when things start to get overwhelming for him. After talking to you, he’ll start to feel better about what’s been bothering him.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Since he began dating you, the others had noticed that he seemed calmer, even with Dazai around. There would be times where he would get annoyed, but not as much as he used to. Before, even Dazai’s mere presence would induce headaches, now however, he’s able to tolerate him more without blowing a fuse.

Ever since you met him, you had always admired his belief in his ideals and the lengths he’ll go to protect them. Seeing that gave you the idea to make a book similar to his. Yours might not have an entire list, but it helps you keep track of your day to day life and any important info. Having your stuff organized has helped you finish what you wanted and makes sure that you haven’t missed anything. 

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Jealousy doesn’t come easy to Kunikida since he’s an adult, and he’s able to spot the difference between a friendly conversation and one with flirty intentions -except when it’s towards him-. Plus, he isn’t territorial over you, he knows that you can stand up for yourself and when the situation calls for it you won’t hesitate to protect yourself.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

When he was about to have his first kiss with you, he was really nervous. He had just taken you on your first date and after a stroll under the moonlight he walked you home since it was the right thing to do. Once you reached your home he became fidgety, and his hands couldn’t stay still.

He could still remember how hard his heart was pounding, and how his palms got slightly warm despite the cold night. And you remember how cute it was seeing the usually composed Kunikida being so nervous around you, and the blush he had then.

He knew he had to go through with it, he wrote it in his book. To kiss you after your first date, but he couldn’t help overthinking about it. Seeing his nervousness, you took the initiative and pulled him into a kiss. Upon your lips meeting his he froze, and by the time you pulled away he was still in shock.

“What happened, Kunikida? Cat got your tongue?” You said teasingly, which only caused his cheeks to flare up more.

After his first kiss with you, he still got shy at times, especially in front of other people, but his kissing has gotten better. He doesn’t freeze up when you lean in for a kiss, and he has gained enough confidence to kiss you first.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

You have Dazai to thank for your relationship. He knew that the two of you liked each other, but neither of you did anything about it. So he took that problem into his own hands.

Kunikida was painfully aware he was in love with you, and at times being around you made him lose his composer. He even added to his list of an ‘Ideal Partner’ modeled after you. However, he managed to miss all your attempts at flirting with him, he took them as a friendly gesture. 

After getting the same results over and over, you figured that Kunikida must not like you in the same way. Coming to terms with that was not easy, so instead of inviting Kunikida out with the intention of hopefully dating him, you would go out with him as friends, and somehow that was harder to do.

This is where Dazai came in, he was acutely aware of the situation at hand, and knew that it’ll take a big push from Kunikidas' side to confess to you. The day he executed his plan started as normal, that is until you walked into the office.

Cue the endless teasing from Dazai to Kunikida. His voice was somehow even more annoying than ever to Kunikida. But he held in strong, more focused in finishing his work. Which gave Dazai the chance to steal his book of Ideals.

“Oh (Y/n)-san ~! Would you like to see what Kunikida has written in his book?” He called out to you. “Especially this one section, ‘My Ideal Partner’. Sounds very interesting, don’t you think?” He smirked, holding the book out to you.

Kunikida never got up from his seat so fast. But before he could storm over there and give Dazai a piece of his mind, you spoke up.

“No thank you, Dazai-san. And you shouldn’t read it either. That’s not right of us.”

Kunikida couldn’t believe it! You respected his privacy and you scolded Dazai! That made him like you even more.

“You’re perfect,” Kunikida accidentally blurted out.

“What!?” You asked out of shock.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to get out of it, he ended up confessing to you how he felt about you and his wish to further your relationship, which you happily accepted.

Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

He would definitely want to marry you, he can’t imagine spending the rest of his life with anyone else. The way he’ll propose to you is well thought out.

First, he’ll take you to the place you guys had your first date. And while you guys are chatting he'll think about how much better his life has gotten with you around, and he can’t help but smile. 

You caught him smiling and called him out on it, which only caused him to get slightly nervous, he wanted to surprise you and didn’t want to give anything away. 

Once again, he’ll walk you home just like before, and with the moment finally about to happen he felt this sudden knot in his stomach. He tried to fight it, but he couldn’t. 

You noticed his nervousness and offered him your hand. He seemed to calm down after that, but his heart felt like it was about to explode. When you reached your home, you could tell he was hesitating about something. It reminded you before of your first kiss. 

“You know,” you started, gaining his attention, “I can’t help but feel like this scene happened before… What are you holding back?”

“O-oh! Uhm..” His hand flew into his pocket, feeling the box. Taking a deep breath he pulled out the box and got on one knee. “Will you marry me, (Y/n)?”

Being married to Kunikida wasn’t all that different than dating. The only thing that changed was that he seemed more confident when you were involved. And shortly after you guys moved in with each other, which gave you more time to spend with him.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

He’ll call you things like ‘my love’, ‘darling’, and you even got you to call you ‘Honey’! At first he got extremely embarrassed calling you by those names, but it soon came naturally to him.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He was painfully obvious to everyone that wasn’t you. Those around him noticed the long glances he gave you, how he seemed to favor you over the others. And how his face got red after talking to you. Once Dazai knew the truth it was over for Kunikida.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

 He doesn’t flaunt around his relationship with you, he doesn’t see why it’s necessary since he doesn't wish to involve outsiders in your relationship. Kunikida has no problem complimenting you in front of others, and the way he says it states it as fact rather than his opinion.

However, if you try to show him affection in front of others he gets a little hot under the collar. He’ll cover his face with his hand and avert his eyes from yours.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

His organization is impeccable. You can count on him to keep track on everything, so that you never end up forgetting something important. And living with him is even better, he makes sure that there are no messes around and if he manages to get home before you, you can expect a dinner of some sort waiting for you.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Kunikida is a very romantic lover, whether it be intentional or not. Everything he does for you makes your heart flutter. When he plans dates out for the two of you, most of the time they are rather cliche, like going to the movies together. 

He heard about scary movies being the perfect way to bond with your partner, so he took you to one expecting you to get scared and cling on to him. But of course it wasn’t that easy. The movie ended up being about ghosts, and he ended up being the one who got scared. You think it went pretty well considering that later that night he asked to sleep with you, and you were more than happy to obliged.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He has complete faith in you, and your abilities. If you ever feel down about not being good enough, Kunikida is there to remind you of how wonderful you are and the accomplishments you’ve made.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Kunikida is perfectly content with the relationship. As long as he has you by his side he doesn’t feel the need to spice up your relationship. Keeping a certain rhythm within it helps calm him down and lets him know that nothing wrong will happen.

When things are quiet it brings a smile to his face cause that means that his ideals are coming into reality.

Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Kunikida understands you well, any new piece of information he learns about you he makes sure to jot it down in his notebook so that he won’t forget about it.

When you feel happy, he feels happy for you, when you feel sad or upset because of someone he also feels the same way. He does his best to keep you happy because seeing you sad hurts him in a way he hasn’t felt before.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Your relationship with him is something Kunikida holds very dear to his heart. He’s a man of his ideals and he can’t picture a life without you. Being with you is now a part of his ideals and he doesn’t want to let that go. 

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Kunikida has always taken care of his hair, and it's so nice and long you couldn’t help eyeing it, wishing you could run your fingers through it and try to do different hairstyles.

He noticed your eyes on him, and when he brought it up to you, you had to explain what you wanted to do to it. And to your delight, he allowed it!

After that it became a regular thing between you two. Whenever you felt stressed out or bored, he would let you brush his hair and play with it. He doesn’t say it directly but he loves the feeling of you playing with his hair.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Kunikida is an affectionate lover in his own way. He shows that he cares for you by showing what he knows about you, or helping you out whenever you feel lost or stressed.

He loves to kiss and have you in his arms, but he gets embarrassed doing that in front of others, especially his friends. He thinks tender moments like these should only be between you and him.

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He usually works himself to the bone. If he’s too invested in his work then he’s too busy to think about you. It would work for a while, but then he would remember that you always tell him to take breaks and make sure he doesn’t overwork himself. 

If he’s really missing you and can’t wait, during his break he’ll call you just to hear your voice.

Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Kunikida is a man of his ideals, and seeing as you’re now a part of them he’ll be willing to put his life on the line if it meant saving you or your relationship.

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 27

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: The exam season is underway (yet somehow I don’t mention the exams all too many times...)

A/N: Yay, I'm back with this fic!! I think I can promise a bit more regular updates at least in the near future, but I will be starting to work longer hours possibly starting from next week so I will have a bit less free time then. I am still determined to keep up with my 500ish words per day goal so it should cause too much delay!

That's that, I hope you guys are as happy to return to this universe as I am! As usual, please let me know what you think :) This fic is about to take my longest fic position from Love Can Melt the Ice, so knowing that there are people who care about it really means a lot to me!

Words: 2393

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

Leo would have been lying if he had claimed that everything went back to completely normal after the talk with Calypso. Sure, they both really tried harder to act as neutral and friendly as possible around each other; whenever they were at home at the same time, they chatted casually about how things were going at work and at the university, their latest TV show or music discoveries, or some silly thing one of their friends had said or done recently. Sometimes they even watched something together or cleaned the common area together. However, the earlier confessions were never mentioned. On the surface things were ‘just fine’, but the unspoken words and lingering looks spoke for itself. Leo knew things were still heating up under the surface and sooner or later they would have to make some difficult decisions. But until then, he wasn’t going to risk anything by disrespecting the guidelines that they had set during their ‘big talk’, even if it was hard to resist sometimes.

One evening Leo found Calypso studying for her upcoming exams on the common area couch. She was wearing a pink, tunic length sweater that matched her lip color, and black leggings that hugged her legs tightly (not that he’d ever tell her that he had noticed such things). She had also pulled her now medium length hair into a messy ponytail so it wouldn’t bother her while she was reading, showing her nicely shaped facial features better. Despite noticing all that, Leo’s thoughts soon went to the facts that he had recently learned about his flatmate. Now he knew more about the hardships she had gone through; a dead sister, an abusive, controlling father, being alone all those years and the nightmares she had mentioned while drunk. Yet, somehow there she was, having escaped her father’s grip and looking perfectly content doing something as boring and normal as studying for exams. The girl was way stronger than he had earlier given her credit for, and Leo admired her capability to stay so calm; he wasn’t so sure the ghosts of his own past would leave him alone that easily.

“Hi,” he finally said before Calypso noticed that he’d been standing there just watching her far too long despite the rules they had set. “What are you reading?”

Calypso showed him the book. If she was surprised to see him, she hid it well. “A collage of Frenchmen’s experiences at the front lines during World War II. I know. A very cheerful way to finish the day.” She grimaced.

“Huh? I thought you were mostly focusing on older history? I didn’t know you study that stuff too,” Leo noted, shifting from one foot to another.

“Well, they do require us to have a good enough understanding of the newer events as well,” Calypso replied, now looking at him directly. For some reason that one look managed to make chills go down Leo’s spine. “It is true, though, that I am more interested in ancient history. There’s so much we still don’t know about those times and I want to be able to discover more.”

“I see,” Leo said. “I think I understand what you mean. I am constantly hoping to discover new ways to create things that will be useful for all of us. Flying dragons that use energy drinks as their energy source? How epic would that be?” Excitement surged through him when he simply thought about it.

“Isn’t that a bit out there?” Calypso asked, but Leo didn’t miss the amused glint in her eyes. “And what if everyone had flying dragons and that would cause horrible air accidents? I don’t know about you but to me they don’t sound very safe.”

“Sunshine, what’s life without some danger?” Leo questioned.

“Hmm, let me think: safe?” Calypso retorted.

“Ouch. Well, I don’t think I have time to invent flying dragons any time soon, so you don’t have to worry about that,” Leo reassured her, but now that the idea had been planted into his head, he decided to return to it some day in the future. Hopefully when he would be able to handle fire.

“That’s a relief,” Calypso replied. “Speaking of your inventions… have you decided what you’re going to do about your studies? The last time I asked you said you haven’t been in contact with your professor yet.”

That was a question Leo had been dreading for. He preferred to not talk about that topic unless he had to, but the truth was that he was still quite unsure about being able to continue. However, he hadn’t made any final decisions yet.

“I’ll… I’ll keep working to overcome my fear,” he responded vaguely. “I think I’ve made some small progress during our sessions. If I can keep that going, I may be able to retake the test next year. Small steps, you know.” In reality, so far he had managed to stay close to a small, burning candle for a short period of time without freaking out, but he still didn’t want to try the matches whenever Calypso suggested it. There was still a long way to go before he’d be able to use all the machines he needed during lab classes and at work.

“Okay,” Calypso said, but to Leo she sounded a bit unconvinced. Her voice got more reassuring, though, when she added: “You know that you can ask for my help any time you need it.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Leo nodded. “And same right back at you. I mean, you can ask me. If you need anything.” For some annoying reason he managed to only get stuttering out of his mouth at that moment. “Even if you simply want me to make you a miniature dragon in the middle of the night. It’s fine. I’d totally make it.”

“And why would I want you to make me a miniature dragon in the middle of the night?” Calypso looked at him questioningly. Before Leo managed to answer, her face softened into a smile and she added: “I really appreciate the thought, though. It feels so different… in a good way… to have people in my life who genuinely support me. I haven’t had that, well, since I got separated from my mom.”

She sat a bit straighter on the couch, her gaze going back and front between Leo and her book, and Leo wondered if she was debating if she should reach for him and touch his shoulder or something. Maybe even hug. One side of him wished she would just go for it. But that would have violated their newly made rules and neither wanted to make things even more complicated than they already were. They simply kept staring at each other for a while, as if trying to read each other’s thoughts, but finally Calypso sighed and turned her focus back on her book, closing it.

“I didn’t realize it’s already this late…” She said, adjusting her hair a bit with the hand that wasn’t holding the book. “I still need to finish an assignment for tomorrow.”

She stood up and started walking towards her room, but when she got past Leo, her arm briefly touched his. Leo’s arm was still tingling after Calypso closed the door behind her.

…

A few days later, Leo was still thinking of that incident when he almost fell over a big rock that was standing on his road. He and Jason were currently having a well deserved evening off after finishing their last exams of the semester earlier that day (Leo felt like he had at least succeeded with the calculations but his essay writing was a bit sloppy) and in honor of that they had decided to go for a long jog and after that have a big, unhealthy meal in one of their favorite pizza places. While they were on their way there, Jason had been explaining something about his holiday plans when Leo had zoned out, and Jason had to grab his arm so he didn’t fall.

“Hey, man, you OK?” Jason asked, frowning. “What just happened there?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m OK.” Leo brushed some dust off the sleeves of his coat. “I was just… thinking. And didn’t notice the rock on the road.”

“Hmmm, what got you that thoughtful?” Jason inquired. “I bet you didn’t even hear what I just said.”

“You know I have a pretty nasty case of ADHD, sometimes I just zone out randomly,” Leo said defensively, not wanting to admit aloud that recently he had been even more distracted than usual because of a certain flatmate of his. “And no, I didn’t hear you.”

“Alright,” Jason shrugged. “I was telling you that Piper’s dad has invited us to visit him over the break. I’m not sure yet if we are going, though. Piper didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it. Sure, she wants to see him, but she suspects he’s still working most of the time so it would be the same to just call instead of traveling all the way to LA.”

“Mmmh,” Leo mumbled, trying hard to stay in the present moment. “I’m going to be at Waystation during the break so if you guys decide to stay, we can still hang out.”

“Okay, I’ll let you know what we decide to do. That wasn’t all, though…” Jason continued, his face becoming concerned. “I think Piper has seemed quite distant lately, and not just when we’ve been talking about that trip. Sometimes I worry that she’s gotten bored of me, or something.”

“No way, man!” Leo exclaimed. “I’ve seen you guys together often enough to know that she loves you. Maybe she’s just going through a rough phase or something.”

Jason didn’t seem quite convinced. “I guess so. It’s just that usually she tells me directly what’s bothering her. This… keeping things inside her isn’t like her.”

“Maybe you just need to give her some time,” Leo suggested. “It’s like me with Cal; I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut more often and in exchange she has slowly started opening up to me more recently.”

“She has? That’s great!” Jason cheered up. “How is it going with you two anyway? I heard some things about the Halloween party aftermath…”

“Nothing happened after the party!” Leo yelped, raising his hands. “Whatever Piper has told you, all lies.”

“Really? So you two wouldn’t have kissed if Piper hadn’t interrupted you guys?” Jason raised his eyebrow.

If Leo’s cheeks hadn’t already been red from the jogging, he certainly would have blushed. “Um… well… the point is that we didn’t. Besides, we’ve set some rules that we’re supposed to follow because we don’t wanna make our co living too complicated.”

“So there is something going on between you two and you are acknowledging it,” Jason teased. “You wouldn’t need to set any rules otherwise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leo muttered. “If you must know, we did admit that we like each other after the party.”

“But that’s great!” Jason exclaimed.

“It feels pretty crazy,” Leo replied. “Sometimes I wonder why she likes me, but maybe the Bad Boy Supreme’s magic is stronger than I thought.”

Jason snorted at his comment. “I don’t know Calypso as well as you do but I doubt it’s the so-called Bad Boy Supreme side that she cares about. You pretend to be all cool and try to seem like you don’t care about what’s happening around you but I think you do that only because you care too much. Maybe Calypso has noticed that as well.”

“Dude, you’ve been hanging out with Piper too much.” Leo shook his head. “That’s something she would say. ” “Well, she’s not wrong. Anyway, what happened after the big confession?”Jason asked curiously.

“We’re not together if that’s what you’re asking, ” Leo denied immediately. “I just mentioned the rules, remember? We wouldn’t need them if we had decided to go down that road.” “Ouch… but why? Why didn’t you just decide to do it?” Jason wanted to know.

“For some stupid, noble reasons,” Leo grunted. “I’m not gonna go into the details because it’s up to her to talk about it, but long story short, she thinks it’s safer that way. I think she’s afraid of hurting one of us.”

“And do you think she’s right?” Jason inquired.

“I… No! I’ve told her I can handle it. But I’m not gonna push it - believe me, Jo and Emmie have given me long lectures about respecting women’s boundaries. If Cal and I wanna keep living together, I have to let it be.”

“Yeah, I can see your point.” Jason nodded.

“Besides…” Leo added after a moment, his face falling as he thought about his past. “Bad things tend to follow me. Who is to say that I wouldn’t be the one getting her into trouble?”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because when have I ever been successful with anything I’ve done?” Leo asked in return.

Jason seemed to finally understand what event Leo was really referring to. “You’re still beating yourself for things that happened years ago?”

“Why do you think I’m not capable of going to some of the lab classes? Because I simply think that skipping is fun and I don’t care whether I pass it or not?” There had been a time when Leo hadn’t cared about his school success, but back in those days he hadn’t cared about much else either. Now that he had dreams and things to live for, he hated the idea that anyone would think he’d throw it all away just because he could. His new family deserved better than that for what they had done for him.

“No, no, I was not thinking that! You just never talk about it so I assumed… whatever.” Jason didn’t want to make Leo even angrier so he decided it was better to change the topic. “Maybe we should talk about something else. I still hope that you and Cal will work it out eventually.”

“Yeah. I hope so too. Same for you and Piper.” The friends had gotten close to their destination, so Leo exclaimed quickly: “Hey, I’m smelling the pizza now! Whoever is last at the door pays!”

“That’s a bad deal because you know I’m faster than you. I train every day!” Jason pointed out but soon sprinted after him.