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erigold13261 · 2 years ago

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If B2J or ExJay do end up starting a re-revolution in the FRAU, how does it happen? An unlikely scenario but interesting to think about

Once again I went overboard with the writing so under a read more it goes! Also to note, I accidentally wrote this kinda backwards in how the fights go. It's all over the place but that's what happens when you have a stream-of-conscious style of writing like me.

Also, this goes under the version where a Re-Revolution is successful and not one that ends up failing.

It's not actually all that unlikely! (Also for the most part I am using "Ex-Jay" to talk about the 4 guys, Asa Noa Cyril and Rei, and not the band itself because the band is no longer together at this point).

Ex-Jay (all 4) and West were friends before shit went down between them and NSR. Now Ex-Jay (Asa, Rei, and Cyril) and West hate NSR. Since West's brother was hurt because of NSR, Ex-Jay has even more hatred for NSR now more than ever.

Cyril and West are definitely shit-talking NSR a lot of the time, especially online. That would probably get the notice of Kliff, who comes out of hiding with some bullshit excuse to B2J for why he disappeared. Something like he was too afraid of dying because he knew Neon J and was afraid if he came out to help them the two would have been killed by the maniac cyborg (something all of them would agree could have been a possibility considering how his robots acted).

Well B2J would not be willing, or even really able to, start a re-revolution. However, that wouldn't stop West and Ex-Jay, they would absolutely be willing to follow Kliff's advice to try and stop NSR again (and this time they'd have even more knowledge of the charters as B2J had fought most of them already).

The only thing I am debating on is if Noa joins the other three Ex-Jay members as he is in another band at the time. He doesn't want to abandon either group, but he also fears he will either get hurt if he helps or his friends will get hurt if he doesn't. In the end, I see him being convinced to help join the cause by the band he is in now as they also want to help bring back rock and take down NSR (they'd also honestly want to help liberate robots in Vinyl City who are being oppressed a lot).

As they all head back to Vinyl City I see things going down like this:

Kliff, May, and Zuke stay in the back lines gathering and giving info to the team. There is a new charter in DJ's place and all the other charter's style has changed a bit more, not to mention security is still tight even if it's been a few years since the revolution. So this process of gathering information is absolutely necessary to stop any kind of huge failure like May and Zuke had.

Noa's band would be fighting without Noa as he sticks with West and the rest of Ex-Jay. This group (which I feel is like 5 without Noa, so usually 6) would be the ones keeping back security and other things from Ex-Jay and West as they fight the boss. They will also offer small assistance in the fight against the boss (think of like those upgrades where Ellie gives food/supplies to B2J, except it would probably be more like offensive assists instead of defensive).

Ex-Jay themselves would be in their main roles except for Cyril who can't project his voice anymore or scream at all. Asa would be on bass, Rei on guitar, Noa on drums, and instead of being on vocals Cyril would be on piano (like a holographic one similar to Zuke's drums). West would take the spot of vocals in this scenario along with using his shadow for more defensive measures while Ex-Jay handles the offense.

I don't have any real ideas of how all the fights would go right now, at least the new charter's, Sayu, and Yinu's fights. But I do think by the time the Re-Revolution gets to 1010/Neon J, instead of fighting them before Eve, Eve would force herself into their path to try and stop this stupid revolution herself.

In her head she thinks that if she can stop it then she will be praised by Tatiana while also putting West in his place. She might even get to see Zuke and talk to him. But what ends up happening instead is she gets beat, even after spitting up everyone.

I can see West know the gist of how to deal with Eve from Zuke talking about it, the others struggle to get a grip on reality and even start losing themselves in Eve's mental maze that she creates. Once West is able to get to Eve the two have a fight between her illusionary light and his shadowed darkness.

It is basically a stalemate for a while until Zuke comes and shatters the reality. He had ignored May and Kliff telling him to stay, and had the other band help him get to Eve. There he and West talk to Eve. West taking on more of Mayday's role from the original game, except with a lot more hate in his heart for her, while Zuke tries to reach out to Eve like he did before (maybe with not as much kindness, maybe with more kindness, I don't know yet).

Instead of going into that silent white area that Zuke reached her in, it would be more like a platformer trying to reach Eve on top of a mountain of broken glass and dripping paint, having to climb arms and legs while avoiding the stares and shots from eyes watching. It would be difficult for Zuke to reach her, but with the help of Ex-Jay, West, and the other band, he would finally be able to get her down from her broken throne and make her see that this is not who she is. This is not the Eve that Zuke remembers, or the Eve that she wants to be.

Or something like that. It would be the end of Eve's fight, with her realizing she doesn't need other people to complete her, but also that she has done some shitty things since the last revolution. She is able to look into a mirror and see what she has become, and how she is not happy with it. This would be the moment where she tries to actively make things better for not just herself, but also for people around her. Zuke would tell her that people change, sometimes for better, and sometimes for worse. It's up to you to choose for yourself how you want to change, and to not rely on other people to tell you who you are.

I was going to say I think West would have some kind of thing going on in this part, but I like the idea that Eve is Zuke's final boss. So gonna backtrack a tiny bit to Yinu's boss fight where I think West would have some revelations.

I like the idea that West and Zuke make up before this Re-Revolution takes place, however I still think they have problems. Problems mainly stemming from West trying to be too controlling of Zuke's life for fear of losing him. The same problem that Mama and Yinu have going on right now.

I'm not sure how the fight would play out all that much, but I can see West seeing the pain Yinu is going through because of Mama and somehow seeing Zuke and his relationship reflected between them. Maybe one of Ex-Jay makes a comment to West about it in passing while fighting. As he realizes this, his vocals would change to try and encourage Yinu to speak up while trying to snap Mama out of her blind rage.

What ends up happening is that Yinu and Mama grow stronger separately. Mama becomes even more angry while Yinu grows in confidence at trying to speak up about her situation. She is getting lost in her own thoughts and playing faster to try and keep up with them. This starts to make the fight harder for the rockers, making Ex-Jay try to shut West up and try to make him realize he is boosting their power and making it harder to fight. It seems like Mama and Yinu are about to start over powering the rockers.

Only for the music to stop. Yinu stops playing as Mama hits the ground or something knocking West and Ex-Jay on their asses. Mama tries to tell her to keep playing, but instead of starting back up she says no. She won't. Mama probably starts yelling at Yinu to stop disobeying and asking her if she wants to lose!? Does she want to have these idiots ruin her performance like this!? Does Yinu even care about what her stopping to play means!?

And Yinu tells her yes. She does know what it means. Yes, she does want them to win. Yes. She wants to lose. Yinu doesn't want to do this anymore. She doesn't want to fight. She just wants all of this to stop and for Mama to go back to being her mother, to care for her like she used to, to stop trying to control every second of her life because she is afraid something bad might happen. Mama IS the bad thing in Yinu's life right now, and she can't breathe of live like this anymore. If she has to play one more song, one more note, for a cause she doesn't care for anymore, she is going to break down.

He explains that his mother cares about her, and this is how she shows it. It sucks, sure, and it is love, but it's not right trying to control someone. Yinu is her own person, and she should be able to make her own decisions. And he explains how he had to relearn that with his own brother, who he was treating like Mama was treating Yinu, and how their relationship will never be the same, but that with work it can get better.

Mama listens to all of this. To West and Yinu talk. And she calms down enough to realize she is the reason Yinu looks like she is about to wither away. It wasn't the revolution, it's not puberty, it isn't the music. It's her. She is the one who has made Yinu stress so much that almost all her flowers are gone and her hair is rooted all the time.

And Mama breaks down. She cries for the first time since Papa died and she hugs Yinu and apologizes for everything. The two leave the level/hall, not even caring to stay and make sure things get cleaned up or to answer Tatiana's calls about what is going on. They just leave and go home to try and talk through all their problems. West and Ex-Jay continue onward.

Okay I was gonna jump back to 1010, but I am actually gonna go back further to Sayu's fight. I like to think that the fight with Sayu is supposed to fix the kind dysfunctional aspect of 3 bands working together on a whim while also fixing the Crew's tendency to not work as a team.

However the fight with the new Charter went fine (won't be going into that fight since I have no charter ideas right now) but it was still a bit sloppy and had some problems. Ex-Jay were a bit too aggressive and headstrong, trying to quickly take out the bosses without caring for their own safety. West is trying to match Ex-Jay but the rhythm keeps fucking up and their attacks end up colliding and doing less damage. Not to mention West is more of an offensive attacker while being forced to play defense because of Ex-Jay's fighting style. Then Noe's band don't have a drummer so all of their attacks/assists are also out of rhythm and sometimes they accidentally help the boss (at least all of this is true for the first charter and a majority of Sayu's fight).

Sayu is a lot more defensive in her fight, making it so the surrounding and mods do most of the fighting for her. This is so she isn't seen as a threat by the public, but it also kinda makes her (the Crew) controlling of the environment. At times you can hear Sayu between lyrics say stuff like "No! That was the wrong attack!" or "Stay consistent! You're off beat!"

But it's not always the same "voice" coming out of Sayu, showing that sometimes Remi Sofa or Dodo will yell over Tila to give a command. Or sometimes Sayu (Dodo) will move a piece of the environment to better fit his movement or Tila will give a line like "Now watch this!" and nothing will happen because she wanted Remi to change the design or Dodo to strike a pose and neither knew what she was expecting so neither did something.

It really just becomes a mess of two groups failing to communicate with each other as they fight. Once Sayu starts arguing with "herself" (the Crew's arguments and frustrations are being heard like at the end of the original fight, except it happens earlier) that is when the rockers realize they need to communicate better in order to win.

While Sayu is still fighting with herself and the rockers have a moment to talk, they quickly make a plan with roles on who is doing what and are finally able to work as an actual team. They use this to go back to fighting and start pressuring Sayu again.

Only for Sayu to start fighting back herself. It starts with a fist into the ground as Dodo finally gets sick of arguing and tries to end the fight. Which just causes more in-fighting between the Crew as they are afraid of what the public would think only for Dodo to say something like "we will lose a lot more if we don't win this fight! Now start fighting!"

Tila's singing creates music notes, Remi changes Sayu's model more often to give more advantages to Dodo (even going into special holiday themes that have extra accessories for Dodo to use), and Sofa is moving the environment, cutting of access points, and just making it difficult to do anything.

The two groups are finally working together but the rockers end up coming out on top because they are able to push Sayu back more and more, taking advantage the cracks of dysfunction that appears every so often during the fight and breaking through Sayu's defenses.

In the end I think Sayu wouldn't break like she does at the end of the original fight, but she would break down and start crying as Tila can no longer sing and sobs into the microphone. That stops all the fighting as Tila says out to the public she is so afraid of losing everything, her friends, her job, her life. She is terrified of going back home and she can't do this anymore.

We can hear the other voices come out of Sayu trying to comfort Tila and Sayu's body looks like it is side hugging nothing (Dodo is holding Tila). The stress these teens have gone through finally comes out into the public, along with some implications that their families are not great.

And so the rockers offer to stop fighting and just talk in private, which the Crew allow and they go into Sayu's eye thingy and end up in Sayu's studio. The show is cut so people aren't just looking at a still, unmoving Sayu. And the rockers and Crew talk for a while. Ex-Jay and Noa's band telling them their options and explaining how things in life work. Rei and Remi talking about being trans comes up. Cyril talking about abusive parents and how to get out of situations. West trying to offer a safe place for them to hang out at so they don't have to go back to their parents after all of this.

The fight between the rockers and Sayu is ended, but the Crew's fight for their lives have really just begun.

Okay, finally jumping back to after Eve's fight, it is now time to talk about 1010's fight. They are now the last fight before Tatiana and are NSR's last hope to defend itself from Rock.

1010 don't want and can't fight back. At least not like they were able to last time with finger guns, Bio Tactical Shields, and rocket flight. I don't even think Neon J has a flying factory anymore, I doubt they would allow him to have access/the ability to create a giant robot army considering the public's perception of robots.

So instead of fighting 1010 first, you are fighting Neon first. Neon and DJSS who surprises everyone by showing up to help Neon. This whole fight takes place on an elevated stage so that you can't directly hit any of these enemies (think like DJ and Sayu's fight where you need projectiles and parries to fight properly).

DJSS acts more as a shield for 1010 and Neon, kinda like how Mama protected Yinu, while Neon is shooting charged up energy beams from a gun/blaster he has and commanding machinery to attack, confuse, and separate the rockers. Things like fog machines, confetti canons, beams of blinding light, those actual canons that shoot the parriable beam in the parry only fight. Not to mention the high security that is keeping Noa's band away from the fight.

It is just Ex-Jay and West against 1010, Neon and DJSS. 1010 aren't really fighting back, sometimes they will sing out and notes go flying at the rockers, but for the most part this is an actual battle, not some kind of show (there is still music playing, but it is a weird remix of DJ and 1010's music which add in rock as the battle continues).

Anyway, I see it as a fight to try and break the stage that 1010 are on. You have to get past Neon and DJ. Neon commanding certain attacks which are hard to dodge but easy to see coming, and DJ slamming the ground or shooting a sun beam which is hard to see coming but fairly easy enough to dodge.

Depending on who goes down first changes the dynamic of the fight. At first it is mainly just Neon and DJ taking turns attacking while 1010 will occasionally sing.

If DJ is taken out first (cracking his helmet more) then Neon's attack become faster and more sporadic, but 1010 are easier to hit without DJ. However, Neon will stand in the way of most of the shots to body block for 1010. Some shots do still get through and damage 1010. You need to get Neon out of the way before finally getting to 1010.

Once you defeat Neon he will send out one last attack before collapsing which only Cyril and West dodges. The other rockers are knocked away.

If Neon goes down first then DJ will catch Neon and fully protect him and 1010 with one arm. There is no way to damage 1010 or Neon during this phase, but DJ's attacks are slower though more powerful as their anger grows. They leave their head open to attacks though.

Once you crack open DJ's head again, he does one last sweeping motion that Cyril and West dodge while the other rockers get knocked away. Then DJ leaves as he doesn't want his black hole to harm 1010 or Neon.

There has not been a lot of talking that went on between the two sides by this point, maybe some quick banter or insults thrown out from each side, but nothing major. Now that it is only 1010, Cyril, and West though, they start to talk.

White asks why they are doing this, what their problem is with them and EDM. He tells them to just suck it up and deal with life, that this kind of tantrum they are showing is stupid and won't change anything. Life sucks and they should get over themselves.

Each time an attack is thrown at 1010, White hits it away, usually to another 1010 but sometimes just away where it will hit the ropes/wires holding the stage up. Each hit does do damage to White, but it's just the arms that are losing their casing and exposing the internal workings.

Well as West and Cyril continue to attack and listen to White, they end up explaining all the pain that NSR has done. All the suffering people have gone through. How specifically these two were hurt by 1010's actions and their lives were ruined.

And that is when White recognizes them as the people Blue attacked long before the revolution started. White tells the rockers that they are stupid for thinking that they have a problem with them, when in reality they have a problem with Blue. And so White grabs Blue by the collar, drags him to the edge of the stage as Blue begs him to stop and the rest of 1010 tell White to knock it off, and throws him off the stage onto the ground in front of West and Cyril.

White tells them to go ahead and kill him if they wanted revenge so badly, all while the rest of 1010 were shocked and afraid, and Blue is already pretty badly damaged by the fall and White redirecting attacks.

Blue just quietly apologizes over and over for everything he did and how sorry he is that things ended up this way. Apologizing to White, to Neon, to West and Cyril. He was just so afraid to lose his family that he did what he thought was right and obviously he was wrong.

West and Cyril are too shocked to do anything at first. Cyril breaks the silence by asking White what the fuck was wrong with him and how he could just throw Blue down like that. Only for White to grab Red and throw him down saying "Easy, like this." He goes on to explain how they don't matter. They are just robots, tools for NSR to use. 1010 is already dead as far as he is concerned.

White continues to throw down Yellow and Green, breaking them a lot too. West calls him sadistic and messed up for betraying 1010. White explains he isn't sadistic, only that he has accepted that no matter who wins this fight, Tatiana is going to scrap them as 1010 is no longer useful to NSR.

He explains some things that have happened behind the scenes that no one knows about. How Tatiana killed Purple, how the other artists became abusive or messed up, how 1010 are basically trapped working for NSR and will never be let go to live normally.

"NSR is dying and 1010 is going to die with it! Why can't you idiot rockers just let us die in piece!?" He screams as he slams his foot onto the stage only for it to finally shatter/break and he falls down in front of West and Cyril, just as broken as the rest of 1010.

Cyril is the one to reach out to 1010 and try to help them up. He no longer feels the rage inside of him to hurt 1010 because now he sees how much they have been fucked up in their situation. He feels sorry for them. He tells them to keep fighting and don't give up. If they beat Tatiana then he'll make sure they are able to get away from NSR.

He then tells them that if this works, then to move to his country where robots are accepted and that maybe 1010 and Ex-Jay can start over, without musical politics getting in the way. Keep fighting for a brighter tomorrow, not for the world but for yourself.

After the 1010 fight, and a small recuperation, the rockers head to Tatiana.

Tatiana is not playing around or trying to reason with the rockers. This can be seen right as West and Ex-Jay pass through her office door just as she uses her time powers to shut and lock the door, cutting off Noa's band from the rest of them. She then knocks Ex-Jay and West onto the ground with a sweeping fist and walks to the center of the stage.

Here she starts to tell them how pathetic their sacrifice will seem once they are defeated. She summons her first clock hand and turns to them, where she explains that if they think Bunk Bed Junction were hurt, just wait until she is done with them.

She teleports quickly and the only reason she didn't immediately kill one of them is because Rei was able to use his guitar to block her sword. This give enough time for the rest of the group to get up and spread out. They start attacking Tatiana as best as they can.

Rei and Asa are the physical hitters with their guitars while Cyril and Noa send music notes at her with their piano and drums. West is trying to use his shadows to stop or slow her down long enough to actually be hit but her flames keep destroying his shadow so all he can do is try to use it to block her physical attacks, everyone has try try and dodge the fireballs.

Considering it is 5v1, Tatiana does surprisingly well. She doesn't play games or mess around. Quickly breaking some strings and keys off of instruments as she attacks causing the rockers' attacks to weaken as they lose essential parts of their music.

Tatiana is able to knock out a few of the rockers, only not killing them because of West's shadow taking the sharpness of the blade but the blunt force trauma still hits Noa and Asa. Rei is on the ropes while West is getting tired and weak. The only one who seems to be faring okay in the fight is Cyril, and that is not saying much because Tatiana's has kinda been ignoring him.

To Tatiana, he isn't special. His piano skills are subpar compared to the rest of the bands' musical talents. He is small and can barely talk half the time. She is just getting rid of the more dangerous threats before she moves onto attacking him.

Cyril is doing all he can to keep playing and keep fighting Tatiana even as he sees his friends get knocked out and hurt by her. He realizes she is ignoring him and so he tries to quickly run to the door to unlock it and get the rest of the rockers into the level only for Tatiana to teleport behind him and hit him full force back into the center of the stage.

It is just Cyril and Tatiana now as she knocked out Rei and West when Cyril ran. He is on the ground below her as she is about to throw the last hit against him.

And he teleports himself out of the way. Something he has not been able to do since Blue destroyed his pocket watch years ago. Both of them are shocked by this. Cyril realizes the clock below the floor is allowing him to tap back into his time powers, and so he sets up his holo keyboard again and starts attacking Tatiana while also dodging her own attacks.

As Cyril and Tatiana fight, B2J and the rest of the band are able to break through the doors. The other band is able to get the knocked out rockers into the hallway while Zuke and Mayday take Rei and Asa's guitars and get ready to fight with Cyril. Only for them to see the glowing crown and decided to attack that.

Tatiana finally realizes the others are here and tries her best to attack them instead of Cyril, but he is making it difficult for her to hit them, literally grabbing at her and teleporting her away from them when he can, exhausting his powers.

The three fight together, mainly Cyril damaging Tatiana and protecting B2J while B2J dodge and attack the crown. Mayday and Tatiana have their banter similar to the original end game. Cyril adds on how rock may not save the city from blackouts, but it's going to save the city from NSR.

As they overpower Tatiana thanks to Cyril's powers and playing, they end up defeating her and blowing up the Crown where Kul Fyra's guitar is.

Similar end scene where Mayday says Kul Fyra was her idol, with Cyril also saying that is why he started rock in the first place. Tatiana telling them to basically shut up and having idols was for fools.

I don't know if the power is much of a thought in the re-revolution, probably not to Cyril, but May still does the whole "rock is better than EDM power-wise" only to find out it is the same energy output as EDM (like 45% since the music they played was more fueled by revenge than passion, and the EDM being played recently has faltered in passion).

For the actual end I don't know if Kliff still does the satellite hack. It's been years so the satellite would not be on his mind. He would definitely say that Cyril and B2J are now the royalty of Vinyl City, the new NSR baby!

B2J would reject that title because they don't feel like they could actually run NSR. Cyril knows he would be able to with Ex-Jay by his side, but he is silent for a moment. Only to say that Kliff used them, about how this was never about power or helping the rest of them get closure! It was about Kliff trying to get to Tatiana!

Cyril would end up feeling stupid and yelling at Kliff. That this whole situation is his fault. Leading May and Zuke to also realize that if Kliff never pushed them so much, they might not have gotten injured so badly.

At this point in the story I don't actually have any ideas. Kliff would do something that would cause the Rockers to help NSR, probably the satellite but maybe something else. Really it would just be the Rockers wanting to help the Megastars more than help Tatiana, because people like 1010, Yinu, and Sayu didn't deserve what they went through. Neon, Eve, DJ, and Mama all deserve second chances to become the better people that they showed they could be.

So the rockers help save NSR, restoring the power to NSR but also bringing the outside change needed to finally break down the toxic environment that has been leaching out of NSR for years.

New Megastars are brought on while old ones retire or take temporary leaves of absences. Tatiana shares her power more openly with Mystery Man and possibly another CEO brought on so that there is a checks-and-balance system now in NSR. Musical freedom is finally allowed to flourish along with blackouts being only a very rare thing that happens.

NSR will never be the same again, but that's for the better.

#nsr #no straight roads #nsr au #failed revolution #eritalks #eriau #noart #asks #i am so sorry this is so long!#i got really into the writing of this piece!#it became so self indulgent!#especially the 1/010 part!#i love this au so much!#wish i knew how to properly write #this would have been so much better #oh well!#i had a LOT of fun!

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botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years ago

Text

OK SHUT UP SHUSH SHUT THE FUCK UP IT’S 1AM BUT SHUSH LISTEN! HEY, LISTEN!

I AM GIVING YOU THE TOOLS TO FIND THE EXACT DISTANCE OF ANYTHING ANYWHERE IN HYRULE, CUSTOM MAKE YOUR FIC JOURNEYS TO THE METER, FIND THE AREA OF ANY TOWN OR LANDMARK, OR JUST FIND OUT HOW BIG (or small) HYRULE KINDGOM TRULY IS ONCE AND FOR ALL SO GO AHEAD AND SAVE THIS POST TO YOUR DRAFTS CAUSE YOU MIGHT WANNA SEE IT FOR FUTURE REFERENCE

Ok so this all starts with THIS

FEAST YOUR EYES LADIES, LADS, AND GENTLEFOLK ON THE ONLY PIECE OF INFORMATION IN ALL OF HYRULE CONCERNING DISTANCE AND TIME.

[Image ID: A screenshot from The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, depicting a picture of Ash Swamp hanging in Impa’s house. The dialogue box from Impa reads, “Does it look familiar? From this village, you should be able to get there in a half day’s time.” End ID]

Impa states that it would take you half a day, about 12 hours, to travel from Kakariko Village to the depicted 13th memory, which is at Ash Swamp by Fort Hateno.

Now here is where I took this information. I took it to

objmap.zeldamods.org

A fantastic online Botw map resource with tons of features like finding specific objects, and highlighting areas, and placing pins, and the basics of showing the locations of everything like shrines and korok seeds and all that.

BUT the thing that we care about today is this ability, here:

DRAW!

With those widgets on the right, I can specifically mark lines and shapes and the website will give me the distance of it in meters!

“But Kip, if the map already gives you the distance of anything you want then isn’t this entire post pointless?” Ashshshshshhshh no, shut the fuck up, shush shut, no, stop, silence, I am high on caffeine and I haven’t slept for two days. No.

As great as the map is, the exact ratio isn’t the best. Like, it tells me that the length of Hyrule is only 10km, or 6.2 miles.

I wager that realistically, Hyrule would be a bit bigger than that. And THAT, is where I come in. Or, more specifically, Impa.

Impa states that it takes 12 hours to travel from Kakariko to Fort Hateno. (I am saying Fort Hateno and not Ash Swamp because I am going of the nearest prominent landmark location near the 13th memory, and I highly doubt that Impa knew the exactly square foot patch of dirt that Link needed to stand on to activate his memory)

According to Google, it takes around 10 to 12 minutes to walk a kilometer. (I am assuming Impa was referring to walking and not riding, because I feel like she would have said, “You should be able to get there in half a day’s ride” or something of the sort. So, walking it is)

So:

12 hours divided by 12 minutes

(Which is 720 minutes / 12 minutes)

gives us

The distance between Fort Hateno and Kakariko village is 60 kilometers.

Badabing badaboom, great job! We did it. BUT NOW this is where our handy dandy online object map comes in.

[Image ID: A screenshot of the Breath of the Wild map showing the area of Kakariko Village and the plains in front of Fort Hateno. A blue line highlghts the path from the village to a marker on Fort Hateno. The line reads “1.89km.” End ID]

[Image ID: A screenshot of the Breath of the Wild map showing the area of Kakariko Village and the plains in front of Fort Hateno. The blue line from the previous image is still there, however, there is now a more prominent yellow line. The yellow line runs from Kakariko village, but ends at a marker point at the location of the 13th memory at Ash Swamp. The yellow line reads “1.55km.” End ID]

So while this map doesn’t give me distances that are exactly to my liking, it DOES give me a measuring means that will stay consistent. SO! As you can see, the map says Kakariko to Fort Hateno is 1.89km. (And just to be safe, I also did the distance exactly to the point of the 13th memory as shown in Impa’s picture, which came out to 1.55km. But! It’s doesn’t matter anyhow, because) We’re going to round this to 2km for the sake of my sanity because surprise surprise! I actually suck at, and hate, math.

So the map says Kakariko to Fort Hateno is 2 kilometers, but we know that in real life, the distance is actually 60 kilometers. So, if you want to use this object map effectively, you have to make a means of converting the “false” measurements, (which I will be refering to as “zelda” (kilo)meters, or zm/zkm) from the actual ones.

So THIS is what I fucking did oh my god help me it took me way too long even though it was really simple in hindsight I was just stupid and spent two hours trying to get the ratio equations right when really all I had to do was divide, it was a whole thing, anyhow, read away.

[Image ID: A screenshot of MATH oh my god it’s fucking math...BUT it’s kinda color coded so that’s nice. The top left of the page depicts text. In red text reads “zkm (Zelda km) = per the measurement on the objmap.zeldamods.org” and below that, in black text, reads, “Kakariko to Fort Hateno = 1.89 zkm ~ 2zkm,” which is underlines in yellow. Another line of black text reads, “Impa says it takes half a day’s time to travel from Kakariko to the 13th memory location AKA 12 hours.” Another line of black text reads, “It takes about 10-12min to walk a kilometer,” which is underlines in green.

Handwritten in blue ink is the equation,

“12 hours = 720 min

720/12 = 60″

The 12 is highlighted in green, and the 60 is underlined. In green text, below it, reads, “It takes 12 hours to walk 60 kilometers.” In black text under this, it reads “So Kakariko to Fort Hateno is 60 kilometers.” Another line of black text under this reads, “So based on that, we can find the actual values of a zkm (Zelda kilometer).”

Handwritten in yellow ink is the equation,

“2zkm = 60km

1km = 30km” [typo, I meant 1zkm = 30km]

The 60km is in blue, and the equation 1zkm = 30km is circled.

To the right of everything, in bigger, yellow text, reads “So: 1zkm = 30km 1zm = 30 meters

The map of Hyrule measures roughly 10zkm (length) by 8zkm (height) [typo, I meant width] giving it an area of 80 square zkm.

Therefore, the “true” size of Hyrule Kingdom os 2400 square kilometers.” End ID]

SO ARMED WITH THIS NEW KNOWLEDGE, you can now use this map to measure whatever you want, and by converting 1zm to 30 meters, you can get accurate result as to what that distance is.

Chart the roads, measure the rivers, the map even gives area tools for polygons, squares, and circles! This entire post was born out of a desire to see how long the characters in my fic should rest for when travel between different stables.

Now before anyone asks, yes! 2400 square kilometers is fairly small. That’s around 930 square miles. I believe even Wales is more than three times bigger than that. BUT! Considering Hyrule is a medieval kingdom that’s actually pretty sizable considering the average size of a Kingdom was 100 to 900 square kilometers.

And juuuust to double check, I ran the size though a Medievil Demographics generator, and 2400 (under the conditions of Fertile Land with 64% of the land being arable since I figured roughly 46% for lakes, the ocean, plus unusable land was more than enough to cover the Hebra, Death Mountain, and the Gerudo Desert. Which honestly is even MORE generous considering there are races that occupy these areas, but I digress) This still gives Hyrule Kingdom a good population of 108,000 people! Before the Calamity when all of its villages were up and occupied, of course. So the area is definitely more than enough, and can still give Link a more realistic amount of time to travel between areas (when you add eating and rest of course. Don’t make my guy walk for 10 hours straight from the Great Plateau to Hebra D: plz)

TL;DR: Hyrule is 2400 square kilometers; use the map, plus the conversion 1 zelda meter to 30 meters to measure anything you want; I am tired

Quick Edit: Please note that this conversion is for the purposes of people out there who need more realistic means of measuring distances for larger scale travel and such, like for writing fic journeys, or dnd campaigns. This conversion isn’t the best for smaller scale measure like buildings and such (EX: I’ve checked with buildings in Castle Town and the Coliseum, and they come out much too big, just a symptom of game design ratios not being perfect since it’s hard to balance consistent measurements and the immersion and plan a creator has for their game world!) So if you are measuring those smaller entities using the linked map, just stick with the given zelda meters! (EX: The Coliseum radius in zelda meters matches up nicely with the real world Roman Colosseum, beating it out by a few dozen meters!)

Also if you are a true believer in the interpretation of Impa’s dialogue as “half the amount of daylight hours,” see the reblogs!

#botw theory #cause it's technically a theory i guess #botw reference #botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #if my math is wrong just shoot me on the spot ok #loz #legend of zelda #hyrule

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bokettochild · 3 years ago

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About Legend having insane leg strenght: what if the reason he never brags about that is because he's embarassed about it? He thinks that pulverizing a boulder with a kick is either something everyone can do or too similar to a bunny. One day he and Four get dumped into a monster camp without their items or weapons and Legend takes desperate measures to ensure they don't die: anihilating the entire camp with only his legs. He is unironically and literally capable of killing someone with his /1

This ask references this post btw, so, check it out if you need context!

Honestly, I loved this so much! THANK YOU!!! But I am half asleep, so the cool stuff I saw in my head is being stinky and not comng out. I'm sorry, hope you like my half-asleep drabbl of Legend being weak as shit while simultaneously having the strongest kick out of the whole Chain XD

Legend hates being at Ordon.

It’s not that he hates the people; he’s used to country folk, he was raised around them, heck, his grandparents have the same strong twang in their voices that everyone in Twi’s village does! He loves the fresh air and the sounds of animals and the sight of growing things everywhere he looks.

But he hates looking around and seeing Twilight’s entire village (even the freaking kids!) wander around lifting things that probably equal his entire body weight!

Seriously, Malo (that was the terrifying toddler’s name, right? That’s what Twilight said when he introduced them all, right?) could lift up a small goat with ease, and he was an actual toddler!

What was Uli feeding her children that they turned out this strong? Were all the village women using it? How on earth was every person in all of Ordon fully capable of throwing Legend over their shoulder?

It hadn’t happened yet, but Legend was on guard because it was only so much time before someone figured out it was possible, and it wasn’t as if he could fight them off.

He wasn’t jealous, definitely not. Not even when he saw Twilight carrying a mother goat across the village with an easy stride as he brought the nanny back to her pen. When he buried his face in his arms and sighed it wasn’t because he was remembering how much he had to tug and pull to move a basket of apples, no, it was just because the mere thought of carrying goats for the foreseeable future made him tired. Definitely.

But this strength was just an Ordon thing, right? It was totally just something that was common in Ordon, and Legend took comfort in that as he sat on the front porch of Uli and Rusl’s house and helped with the mending.

Even their blankets were heavy, what the heck?

But then Sky walked past.

And Sky was carrying a barrel, an entire barrel. One that swished and clunked with the sounds of grain filling it, and if the small trail of spilled seed that followed after the hero meant anything, then that thing was full.

Okay, so Skyloftians were strong too, no big deal.

Big deal.

Their entire visit to Ordon, helping to hide away animals and supplies before a local monster band stole them, was spent with Legend trying desperately to not be jealous as he watched everyone from Wind to Time lift and carry things that he couldn’t even knock over if he pushed against them.

It wasn’t even that most of thing things were heavy, it was just... he was weak.

Uli’s gaze when she’d figured out the truth had been surprised, eyes blown wide with shock as she watched as Legend, who’d opted to help indoors since he knew working outside would lead to him being more a burden than an aid, struggled to lift buckets of water to fill the wash basin. Dark brown eyes had followed him as he’s left the bucket outdoors and stomped inside, hissing and wheezing under his breath as he moved his attention to his bag and grabbed one of his power bracelets.

“Hun,” Uli’s soft country twang caught his attention as the woman drew close, concern filling her warm gaze. “Are ya’ feelin’ alright?”

And reputation or no, Legend’s Gran would have his hide on a hitching-post if he even so much as dropped his manners. There was something about country folk that was so inherently polite and welcoming, that even the salty vet couldn’t help but return with the same manners that his Gran had pounded into his head since childhood.

“Yes, ma’am.” Crimson trailed up his neck to blossom across his cheeks and shoot up his ears. He tried to ignore that Uli had a baby on one hip and a bushel of food on the other, breath contained and relaxes as she stood there, no hint of strain in her face or body language. His fingers trailed along the clasp of his power bracelet, shame building inside as he shuffled his feet.

You just can’t walk away when lady’s talking to you, especially if she’s being all polite like and just makin’ sure you’re okay.

“Are you injured?” The farm-wife pressed. “You were huffy something huge with that there bucket.”

And Legend would like nothing more than to sink into the earth as he glances over the full bucket of water that no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t lift. “I��m just not much of a farm-hand is all, ma’am. I’ll be right as rain in a tick, just needed to grab something I forgot.”

And while the look Uli gives him is a bright smile, he knows worry when he sees it peeking out of someone’s gaze. He tries to ignore that, instead turning back to the chores he’d been assigned and trying his hardest to ignore ethe fact that no one else was wearing power bracelets when they all came back for dinner that evening.

He’s not strong. So what? He can lift his sword well enough, and he can do most other things too when he wears the power bracelets.

Yes, he knows that Ravio warned him about not developing muscles if he relied on objects so much, but he’s never had time to work out or build any muscle mass, so when he needs it it’s a bit more important to just get his work done rather than hope he’ll develop it. He’s paying for that, and he knows it, but he can’t really help that he doesn’t have the time or space to really do anything about it.

Oh well, at least the others haven’t caught on.

Warriors hefts a huge rock over his shoulder and throws it, chuckling deep and loud as he smirks at the rancher. “Beat that!”

They’re clearing a road where an avalanche swept through and blocked off the main entrance to a local town. They’ve been at it for hours, and while Legend tries his hardest to be discreet by sticking to things he can actually lift, even if it does require his bracelets, the others have devolved into a contest to see who can throw stuff the furthest.

There’s nothing on the other side of the road except for the edge of a swamp, and even Legend has to admit that it’s ridiculously satisfying to hear each of the heavy stones go ‘plop’ as they land in the marsh.

Twilight smirks at the captain, all his sharp teeth on display as he hefts a rock that’s the size of Wild and easily bigger than half of the rest of the heroes. “Watch and learn, city boy.” Twilight grunts (well at least it took some effort) before throwing the boulder and watching with the rest of them as it soars through the air and lands with a dramatic ‘splosh’ in the middle of the swamp. Cheers erupt from the younger heroes, and a few even drop their own burdens to give a brief round of applause.

Warriors humphs shrewdly, gaze thin as he looks over at Twi, who only cocks a brow in challenge. “Anyone think they can beat that?”

Legend finds his gaze meeting Four’s swirling hazel, and they both quickly look away from the captain, both well aware that the biggest rocks they’ve lifted are maybe the sizes of their heads, and no where near the horrific loads that the taller heroes are tossing left and right.

“I’ll try!” Wild’s eyes are flashing as the kid clambers over the rock slide, eyes darting to and fro until they land on what has to be the biggest, most horrifically sized piece of rubble Legend has ever seen. The Champion beams, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles briefly before taking the stone in both hands and lifting it over his head and throwing it.

The swam erupts in goop and several of their group yelp and have to dark back as smelly water sprinkles the edge of the path. Wild beams down from his perch on top of the pile, hands on his hips as he looks down at them. “Who dares challenge my strength?”

“How about you, Vet?” Warriors nudges him lightly, chuckling with a cocked brow. The man is just teasing, and he doesn’t mean any harm, but Legend finds himself irritated anyways. He doesn’t know what it is about Warriors, but the man gets under his skin entirely too easily.

“No thanks.” He grunts, hefting his own stone (so small in comparison) a bit higher and adjusting his grip as he walks over to the swamp.

Wild scrabbles around above, knocking stones aside and sending them rolling down towards the vet. Legend rolls his eyes, dodging quickly around a few and kicking some of the larger ones in the direction of the swamp.

He smiles to himself at the satisfying ‘plonk’ as each one hits the surface.

Four’s head aches and the next time they see Warriors they’re going to kick him in the shins.

The captain is good at planning, usually, but if his planning means that Four is waking up to stare around a vast room where people in red and black PJ suits are eating bananas because said plan went wrong, then they think they’re a bit justified in wanting to kick the captain.

They’d reach to rub their head, to adjust the headband that’s riding too low and letting their hair all hang in their eyes, but their hands are bound behind them, and they’re left huffing their breath and scrunching their nose in an effort to relive their irritation. Their mind is too wild to shake their head, but they let their eyes wander.

Legend’s violet gaze meets theirs, sharp fury bubbling below the surface as Legend sits across from them, hands bound behind him, a rope leading from his wrists to a hook in the wall that is definitely higher than either of the two of them can reach.

As unkind as it is, they breathe a sigh of relief to know they aren’t alone (even if being four people in one body technically means that they’re never alone as is). It’s...nice, having Legend around. They don’t know what it is, but the taller boy feels safe and that’s something that they, especially Red, fond comfort in.

But the fact that two of them are here means that Wars is getting both his shins kicked, fair is fair.

Legend squeaks in that harsh way he does when he’s angry, a poor and rather adorable attempt at a growl, but apparently, he’s unable to make any sort of guttural noise, so the squeak is the best he can do. “I am going to strangle Wars when we get back. Yiga? Seriously?”

They raise a brow. “Weren’t we fighting moblins?”

“And a Talus. Unless these guys have transformative rings, then someone messed up.” The vet grates out, but before he can try and unravel their situation any more, a masked face is shoved into the vets own, one of the pajama clad banana eater’s apparently trying to leer over the vet, breath strong and rank even behind his mask.

“So! The friends of the hero awake! You will call me Astorah! Leader of the Yiga and supreme priestess to Lord Ganon!”

“I’ll call you annoying and maybe alive if you let us go.” legend drawls, unimpressed. “Seriously lady, get your face of mine or I’ll knock it in.”

They smirk. Legend is as polite and well-mannered as can be around the country villages, but the minute he’s away from thick mountain drawls and country twang, the Vet becomes a sour and salty speaker who’s as likely to threaten you as o smile at you. It would almost be funny if they weren’t being held captive.

Astorah makes an indignant sound, hand shooting out to smack Legend across the face. The vet can’t do anything to stop it, and the blow sends his head swinging to the side, a faint grunt escaping as the self-declared priestess stands to her full height (she’s taller than either of them at any rate) and promptly orders her subordinates to see to it that the prisoners be brought to ‘the mountain’.

“The hero will be looking for his friends,” The pajama clad leader declares excitedly, hands rubbing together like a villain in a bad stage play. “So, let's help him out, shall we?”

The vet and smithy exchange a glance, each somewhat surprised at how... pathetic their opponent seems to be.

“Their screams should do the trick; all heroes listen to cries of help after all.” There’s a mad waver in her voice and the pitching is all wrong.

She’s delusional. Vio whispers, and the rest of them are inclined to agree.

Across from them, legend scowls as another red and black clad weirdo comes to grasp his binds, unhooking them from above as yet another does the same to Four.

Ideally, they would try and escape now, but legend only follows along slowly as Astorah leads them through the endless halls and up step after step, murmuring, laughing and shrieking loudly as she goes, hands fluttering and gestures erratic as Legend’s scowl grows more and more each minute.

It all seems rather pathetic, all thing considered, until another, larger, more intimidating individual stops them, voice harsh as it grates out something in a language neither hero can understand. Astorah protests and shrieks at the figure, but they disregard her and instead turn to the heroes.

“Put them back, screams echo within a cave far better than on a mountain top.”

Four’s stomach sinks. Being outside means being closer to escape, means finding the others easier and kicking Wars for landing the in a battle where two of their own had been captured by the enemy.

Legend seems to be of the same idea, his eyes flashing as he pulls at his bonds, tugging away from the guard holding onto him.

The oddly garbed enemy slaps him again, but Legend doesn’t seem to be affected, only pushing harder and biting towards the next hand that swings his way. Astorah pulls away with a light sob, shrieking when Legend’s teeth keep hold of her hand while the enemies around them erupt into action.

Fours unsure of what happens next, their head is still spinning, and quite honestly, they’re sure Hyrule will declare him concussed when they get back, but he does see blows being thrown Legend's way, blades being drawn as shouts echo around them.

There’s a dark of movement, and one of the enemies falls. Four stares in shock for half of a moment before turning their gaze to Legend, who, for all intents and purposes, looks half feral.

Blood stains the Vet’s bucked teeth and his hair swirls as he spins and ducks beneath blows. His hands are still bound tightly behind him, a rope trailing on the ground as Legend evades contact, yet somehow still manages to down another enemy.

Four would try and help, but their mind is spinning, their brain not yet up to date with what their eyes are seeing, that and they’re still bound themself, their arms are fastened behind them and they’re not even sure how Legend is managing to get blows in.

And the he sees.

The vet’s boot swings up to make contact with one of the jaws of the enemy.

Yiga. Wild had told them about them, the Yiga clan, people out for the hero’s blood. The word only comes to mind now, but they’d had to tune out of the battle for a brief moment to remember it. They’re brought back to it as the sound of an agonized scream breaks through the air, accompanied by the harsh snapping sound that Four knows too well from having broken their own bones.

Legend fights with his hands behind his back, kicking out like an angered horse and injuring any who step near. It’s impressive honestly, watching how blood spurts and bones crumple from the force of the vet’s blows, and all that without having use of his hands.

The Yiga back away, eventually leaving the room entirely as Legend squeaks out an angry Legend sound after them, before turning his attention to Four. Four says nothing, and it appear Legend thinks that that’s okay, because he darts towards the door they had been headed too, leading Four with nervous glances being thrown back over his shoulder every few minutes.

The mountain top they emerge onto is higher than Four expected, and they want nothing more than to snuggle down in the cozy parka Legend once leant him, but they have none of their items, and they’re lucky to even be out in one piece.

It takes a lot of work to climb down a mountain with their hands tied, but their fingers are too cold to make any good of the knots, and they manage in the end to climb down. They’re in the last legs when Four notices what looks like a small group of travelers below, and they can almost hear the singing of the Four Sword from them.

They’d dropped their blade in their battle, the very reason they were caught in the first blade. They’re not happy someone else touched it, but they are glad they didn’t leave it behind.

“Four,” Legend’s voice breaks them from their thoughts, and as they turn to face him, they find that Legend’s face is flushed, ears twitching nervously as he avoids their gaze. “Could you...not tell the others about all that?”

“About what?” They clamber down another stone, Legend still within sight as he trails down beside them.

“The...kicking.” Legend flushes. “I know you guys- most of them anyway- could have it handled better. I just, Wars is bad enough as is, I don’t need him bring up my lack of strength next time he decides he needs ammo to mess with me.” There’s a scowl on the vets features as he hops down and across and small hold in the mountain side. “I get it, I’m weak in comparison, they could probably have beheaded those guys with their bare hands, but mine fingers are shit o a good day and-”

Four doesn’t know if they actually figure something out or randomly spew words, but Legend’s eyes turn to them in surprise when the smithy stares down at him. “You do know most Hylia’s can’t do anything by kicking each other, right? I’m planning on kicking Wars when we get back, and the most it’ll do is bruise him.” Their voice is flat, but they let Viol take over, he always had the best endurance out of them when it came to rocky places anyways. “You kicked a man’s ribs in, Legend.”

And it’s not funny, it really isn’t, but they giggle, watching as Legend flushes before their eyes, and when the others trail up towards them, gazes curious and concerned, Four is laughing hysterically.

It could be the head wound, it could be Legend’s face, but the thought that Legend was able to kick a man's ribs in and hadn’t done so to any of them yet was both surprising and highly relieving for whatever reason, and it’s hilarious listening to Legend try and explain himself as the vet protests and struggles against the fact that apparently Hylian’s don’t usually have enough leg strength to kill people with.

Yes, people died back there. Yes, Four just watched them die. Maybe it’s Shadow’s influence, but Four can’t find that they're overly bothered. They are tired and injured and cold, and if they can laugh about something as ridiculous as Legend’s strange strength imbalance, then Hylia danggit they’re going to!

They never do kick Wars’ shins in, they giggle to hard at the thought that Legend doing so could actually break them, so they topple over before they can lift their feet.

#fluffics #linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe fic requests #lu legend #lu four #yiga clan #why does no one write a female yiga leader who's stupid?#it's fun #as a girl I can say we can be very dumb #and she is

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 4 years ago

Text

I’m On Fire [Chapter 1]

Summary: With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.

A/N: This is the first part in a series, I’ve written the first few chapters already so I’m hoping to update pretty regularly! I hope you guys enjoy, and any feedback is always appreciated! ❤️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby

Warnings: None really for this chapter, cursing? Mean-ish Spencer

Word Count: 6.5k

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

I wasn’t at the BAU long before it started to feel like home. The team became my family, pure and simple.

Having been recruited by Hotch at only 22 I'd sort of fallen into the roll of the little sister to the team without really meaning to. It's not that I was naive, or particularly sheltered even. I know I'm good at my job, and I'd want to be, given how my life's revolved around it almost entirely. But the team seemed to adopt a protective mindset over me right off the bat.

When I first joined the FBI everything was terrifying. I worked so hard for my PhD, trying to get into the unit, but there's almost nothing that can actually prepare you for the real thing. Being out in action in the field, working the cases out in real time. Sometimes they had a smooth, easy conclusion followed by loud obnoxious drinks together. Then there were the others, the ones that kept me up for days after and felt as though they owned little pieces of my heart still.

It was JJ that helped the most on those horrible flights back on the jet. Noticing my anxious ticks and uneasy disposition after that first case that had ended badly. JJ had been through it all before, taking too many cases home with her. Seeing her son's little faces in the kids that we couldn't help. If I was the baby of the team JJ was the big sister, looking out for everyone.

Morgan on the other hand was the outrageously cool older brother, the one you just wanted to be. Early on he'd helped my weak self with the ruthless fitness regimen the FBI required, he offered to pull some strings and get the test written off. But I couldn't accept that, there was something in me that just wanted to impress Morgan, and honestly still does. Like somehow if he thought you were cool, then it became true. So I passed the exam, but getting up a flight of stairs was near impossible for a week after.

Emily was probably the fun aunt. The one that would sneak you booze at the family gathering, or take you to your first concert. Emily was actually the one who'd found me, digging around colleges for potential recruits she'd had me picked out for a while I later found out. Insisting that Hotch give me a shot. It was reassuring to know I had someone who would stick up for me from day one.

I was an tech analyst, among other things, sort of a counterpart for Garcia in the field. So it was no surprise to anyone when the two of us hit it off as though we'd known each other forever. We weren't the same by any means though. Penelope was bold, and bright, and confident beyond measure, where I've typically felt like more of a blend into the background type. I've always thought of myself that way, despite my achievements. I'd also always believed I was fairly inoffensive, no one I'd met had ever had a huge problem with me, 'till I got to the BAU that is.

Every rose has its thorn I suppose.

That thorn in my side was Dr. Spencer Reid.

It wasn't that Dr. Reid was a bad agent, or even a bad person. I hadn't actually met him before that first day in the conference room, but I'd known who he was for a long time. Before I came along he'd held the mantle of 'youngest ever recruit' in the unit, while I was studying I'd read any of his work I could get my hands on because of that fact.

I figured it must've been some sort of hazing when he looked me up and down that first day I was introduced, and then proceeded to blank me entirely for a full week. Up until I'd wrapped my first case.

The whole team went straight from the jet to the bar. Proceeding to get far too drunk. Spencer joined, which the rest of the team found unusual, and I probably should've taken as a sign of things to come.

That case went well, and everyone was in high spirits but Reid had a sour disposition, at least it seemed that way every time he looked at me. After a few too many drinks I went outside in an attempt to sober up in the cold air, unfortunately Reid must've snuck outside not long before.

"Ugh" was all he said when he first caught my silhouette approaching him. The night was unusually cold so it had been deserted outside the bar that evening. I wasn't really sure why it made me nervous to be alone with him like this, the two of us leaning back against the same small area of brick wall, looking out at the cold night.

"Nice to see you too doctor" was all I could muster, I was drunk enough that I let my sarcastic tone leap out, "you can relax, I'm just trying to get some fresh air, it's too stuffy in there, and loud. I'm not here to talk to you or anything."

"Well aren't you a sensitive thing" he responds in kind, at that point I wasn't really sure if it was a coincidence or if he'd been genuinely avoiding me, but things were starting to clear up.

"I'm sensitive, that's a fun take on things" I joke, taking a long sip of cold water from my glass.

"And what's that supposed to mean, newbie?" his emphasis on the last word all but confirms my suspicions.

"Fuck man, what's your problem with me? Is it because I'm new, or because I beat your stupid record?" I quip. hoping that at the very least it might coax him out of his shell. Dr. Spencer Reid getting angry at me could honestly be better than the nothing I'd been experiencing from him until now.

"What stupid record?" he sounds genuinely confused

"I'm the youngest BAU recruit now?" I didn't know why else he could be so sour. He'd never met me before last week, and since he'd ignored me that first day I'd done all I could not to step on his toes. So if he had a reason to hate me this much, it wasn't something I'd done on purpose.

He takes a few moments to respond, raising his eyebrows and considering the information. He chuckles. He fucking chuckles.

"That's funny." he says, his voice leveling out, "I didn't peg you as funny newbie" that word sets something off in me again. Something about it is dismissive, or belittling. Before I could fight back he starts to move, maneuvering around me and heading back inside. A little too tipsy to think of anything constructive to say, I just mutter "Fuck you Spencer."

He swings open the door, as he walks inside he just says "See you Monday, Newbie" without even looking at me.

And that was only the beginning.

----

"You know I'm just trying to make sure you get enough rest sweetheart. There's no need to get so defensive!" it was far too early in the morning to be dealing with this call. Since joining the BAU a few years ago this was a standard call from my Mom. Equal parts well meaning and over-bearing, and generally asking far too many questions.

"I'm not getting defensive Mom, I get plenty of rest, my job is just very important to me and you know that." I knew she was right to be at least a little worried, this job was consuming, and in all honesty I wasn't sure how people like JJ were married and still here. It seemed like an impossible feat.

"Fine sweetie, how are your co-workers doing then? How's Penelope? Give her my love" she loved Penelope, I think she thought that Penelope tethered me to the normal world, and in a way she was right. She kept me sane, and fun, and made me eat pizza and do face masks once a week at least. Even when I didn't think I wanted to.

"Pen's great Mom, everyone's good. Well, the usual ones get on my nerves, but I'm fine." As I say it I glance across at Dr. Reid, the only person who's also in as early as I am most days. I'm not sure if he can hear me but he's tapping his pen so loud on his desk that it takes all of my energy not to walk across the bullpen and stab him with it.

"Y'know what Mom, I'm actually just after getting to work and it's a busy day so can I call you back later?" I chance, getting her off the phone is always an ordeal.

"Fine, fine, I'll let you go. But wait one last thing!"

I knew what was coming. It was always coming.

"Are you seeing anyone, Margot's been wondering too, just thought I'd check in?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose and trying not to scream down the line, I just sigh out the frustration instead.

"No Mom, believe it or not, I've made no progress on that front since you asked me all of 3 days ago."

"See you are being defensive!" she snaps

"I gotta go, bye Mom. Love you!" I say, hanging up quickly before dropping my head down into my arms on my desk, resting like that for a few moments in silence.

Hearing Garica chuckle behind my ear I perk up and spin around. She's holding a small paper cup of coffee and hands it to me. I look at it confused, "Sorry about the paper, I couldn't find your mug in the cabinet" she apologizes, looking over at Dr. Reid and rolling her eyes. Now I know he can hear me from his seat, he takes that moment to sip from my mug and place it gently back on his desk.

It hadn't taken long for him to start toying with me. It was always stupid childish things. Things I couldn't get genuinely annoyed at, that would give him far too much satisfaction, knowing he was getting to me in any real way. This was one trick he liked to play if he got into the office before me, he'd take my mug and make his coffee in it, just to spite me I guess.

"Why does he even do that, it's so stale" she said, just a little louder than normal to make sure he could hear. Garcia and Reid were still good friends and team-mates but she liked to stand up for me when she could. He liked to avoid me as much as possible so he'd usually go to Garcia before me if he needed help with something. Even when the two of us were out in the field together. Which was obnoxious but it was just another thing I'd gotten used to over time. And as long as it didn’t interfere with the case I just forced myself to let it go.

"I know it's such low grade bullying isn't it?" I shot back with a chuckle.

"So I'll take it that was Mommy dearest" Penelope gestures to my phone. She knew my Mom, and she knew about her general overbearing energy. I let out a groan thinking about the call again, and the calls that were to come.

"Isn't it always Mommy dearest?" I joke

"So she's still on your ass about the wedding then?" I'm sure Penelope was almost as sick of hearing about it as I was,

"Margot's getting married in like 4 months now, and every time Mom calls there’s just some new hometown loser she wants to set me up with Pen. It's fucking exhausting" I take a sip of the coffee she made me, savoring the bitter taste. She sits down on my desk for a moment, leaning in.

"Honey, did you ever think that if you got out there and found someone, she wouldn't be on your ass at all?" I don't want to think about that, about how she's completely right. All I can do is let out another small groan and lean back down onto my desk.

"Too early Pen" I say, it's muffled by the desk but she gets the message. Hopping up and heading to her own office as some more people start to arrive for the morning.

Leaving me alone to make a start on my paperwork that had built up throughout the week. Fridays were usually slow like this, giving me a little too much time to think. I couldn't shake the thought that my Mom and Penelope were actually right. Maybe I was a bit too invested in the job, and maybe that was a pretty big factor in why my last relationship imploded but I wasn't about to admit that to anyone.

----

After that the day crawls by, thankfully no cases pop up so the weekend might actually be free. Trying to make sure I clear up all of my paperwork takes a little longer than I'd hoped and leaves me alone in the bullpen. It seems like everyone's gone home by the time I've packed up and I'm ready to leave. Which wasn't as out of the ordinary as I'd like it to be really. Everyone else seemed to have somewhere to be on a Friday night.

Waiting for the elevator to arrive my phone started to ring, I could see my Mom's caller ID on the screen. If I just let it go I know she'll call back later, may as well get it out of the way. I take a deep breath in anticipation before I answer.

"Hey what's up?" I answer, stepping inside the elevator as the doors ping open.

"Hi sweetie, I've got good news! Do you remember David? That lovely boy, he helped out your Father that summer in high school?" I know what's coming and rub my temple, trying to stifle the headache I know is coming. As I answer a hand slides between the elevator doors, popping them open again.

Dr. Fucking Reid walks in, and he looks about as happy to see me as I am to see him. I make eye contact and look away just as fast, willing him away with my mind. "Yes Mom, I remember him, why are you telling me this?" I already know the answer but I'm fed up, she still sounds excited when she responds.

"Well you won't believe it! I ran into him at the market this morning and I thought you'd like it if I passed on your phone number to him, maybe for the weddi-" it took all I had not to shout into the receiver, and maybe I would've had the elevator been empty.

"Mom! Jesus!" I have to reign myself in, but I have a bad idea, "You know what, I'm actually sorted. I've got a date lined up now" I'm not sure why I said it with no real plan in place. She sounds even more excited than I've ever heard her.

"Oh my, that's amazing sweetie! That was fast, I can't believe you found one since this morning, it's someone from work so?" she assumes, and I'm just not thinking fast enough to correct her.

"Mmhmm, yeah" I'll figure out the logistics later I rationalize.

"Oh! Is it that boy you're always on about, the one who teases you?" she asks, and her voice is full of joy, and it makes me feel horrible that I'm lying already, and that I'm going to let her down.

"Yup, that's the one, look Mom I gotta go, I'll talk to you later! Night" I blurt out so fast it has to be obvious I'm nervous.

I can hear a stifled chuckle behind me. Fuck. How loud is my phone speaker. Could he hear that. Surely not. But this elevator was completely silent. The doors open and I have to stop myself from running to my car at top speed. Instead I walk out just a little faster than normal, turning around to shoot him a small wave goodbye. And he's got this devious smirk on his face that makes my stomach turn.

Sitting into my car I pull out my phone to text Garcia immediately.

I'm on my way to yours right now. It's urgent.

——

Traffic's light so it takes maybe 10 minutes before I arrive at Garcia's place. My mind's racing and my body takes me there on autopilot. Why did I say any of that, why did I even answer the damn phone. Why did I wave goodbye to Spencer, I never usually did that. Maybe that's why he had that look on his face. Maybe he was just thinking of something funny that happened earlier and it had nothing to do with me at all. That was something he'd do to mess with me for sure.

How was I going to walk this back with my Mom, she was just gonna have more questions that I couldn't answer. Fuck.

Garcia buzzed me up and her door was open for me by the time I got up the stairs. This little purple apartment had become my second home. It was where I spent most of my evenings off, laughing on the same sofa I was collapsing face first into right now. Garcia nestles in beside me and runs her hand over my hair, "Hey sweet pea, what's happening? I don't want to sound too concerned but you're not giving me much to go off? Are you dying, is there drama? You're going to have to tell me what's so urgent before I burst a blood vessel?"

I let out a muffled, "is drahmuh" into the pillow, Garcia shakes my shoulders.

"Sit up babe, damn!" I have to heave myself out of the pillows, sitting upright on the sofa beside her, clutching one of the pillows in my arms.

"It's drama" I repeat,

"Well, out with it then, you know I'll take all the drama I can get! Spill, spill" she rushes me along. I'm already apprehensive, Reid's her coworker too, but if anyone would understand why this was such an issue it was gonna be her.

"Okay, I'm after doing something stupid and I think I really need your advice" I cringe already, thinking back to the elevator, throwing out my words faster, I continue the story, mostly trying to get it over with, "my Mom called again when I was on the way out tonight and she was trying to set me up with this guy, and Reid was there, and I got all flustered, and I told her I had a date already" I throw my head down into the pillow again.

"Wait why was Reid there?" she looks like she's trying to fit puzzle pieces together and she's getting nowhere, "And what's the drama?"

"Shit Garcia, it was in the elevator and it was all quiet, and maybe he heard the call, maybe he didn't but he had this fuckin' look on his stupid face" I can't shake the smug little smirk, it's burned inside my eyelids. Garcia's face falls in what looks like disappointment.

"Ugh Y/N! That's nothing chill out, why does it matter if he heard your call? I know you guys are all weird but none of that is any of his business anyway!" she shoo's her hand in the air, dismissing the whole situation.

"No Garcia, it is his business now" I have to close my eyes when I say it, I can't look at her "I told my Mom that he was my date, well, I didn't say his name or anything, she assumed it was someone from work and so I just agreed, and then she suggested that it was him and then I fucking panicked Pen, I fucked up so bad. What do I do?"

I finally opened my eyes to look up at Garcia. She was sitting in pure silence, pursing her lips in what seemed like contemplation. The puzzle pieces finally slotting together. It's as though a light bulb goes off behind her eyes and she bursts out in fits of laughter. Doubling over on herself before finally taking a few breaths to calm herself down. I'm honestly not sure why she finds the whole thing so funny, she know's how needlessly annoying he's made my life, she's seen it first hand and heard me talk about it over and over again in this very apartment over pizza.

"Garcia, this is not fucking funny! This is serious!" I try to calm her down, I need advice not whatever this is.

"I'm so sorry Y/N, I love you dearly. But this isn't funny, this is hilarious. It's like you're Sandra Bullock in some mid-90's rom com. I love it" I don't love it, in fact I hate it. I nearly snap at her but pull myself back.

"Pen, come on, help me out. What do I do with this, how do I fix it?" I plead.

She stops laughing and pulls out her phone, "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm going to order us a pizza, and we're gonna sort this thing out together, sound good?" I just nod and collapse back into the sofa. I think I feel better now that I've gotten it out in the open.

----

Penelope makes us tea while we wait for the pizza, she keeps lemon & ginger in her cabinet for me, just like I keep mint for her. The warm mug and the steam calm me down. After a few minutes alone to think about it I start to figure it out a little better. I figure I can just lie to my Mom for a while, it might suck but I can pretend for a bit and then make up some excuse as to why he can't come closer to the time. Then I can just bring Garcia instead and everyone's happy. I'm about to float my plan to her there's a knock on her door. I was so caught up that I hadn't really noticed quite how starving I'd gotten. Leaping up of the sofa to grab the door.

I swing it open but it's not the pizza guy. Somehow it's the opposite of the pizza guy, my worst nightmare is on the other side of the door. He must notice my eyes blow completely wide. "Y/N!" he says, more of a statement than a question really, like he's telling himself that he's actually seeing me in the doorway. I'm not as gentle.

"What the fuck are you doing here Reid?!" I can't even disguise my anger. He seems a little flustered, like he's got absolutely no idea how to proceed.

"Um, uh, is Garcia here? I can, um, I can just come back later?" he swallows hard and shakes his head, before I can agree and tell him to get lost Penelope races to the door, pulling it wide open.

"Nope, that won't be necessary Doctor! Come on in, you're right on time sweetheart" she waves him in and he walks past me, his demeanor changing almost instantly. He's smug, like he's won whatever battle this was. And I hate it. Though he's still as confused as me despite the newfound attitude. Reid sits down on the sofa, right where I had been sitting. I bite my tongue and sit on the opposite end.

"Are you okay Garcia?" he asks with a genuine concern, "What's going on, what was the emergency?". He's not stupid, he knows she's not in danger now that he's here. But he wants answers. I don't know that I've ever seen him this confrontational with anyone, well anyone but me. The entire time I’m staring her down as she sits in the armchair opposite the two of us. My keys are in my pocket and my car's right outside. I could just jump up and make a break for it. Escape.

"You know what Doc, you won't believe it but I'm not actually the one with the emergency" she takes a beat, and I'm starting to think that I might understand why people murder other people after all these years, "Y/N has something urgent she needs to talk to you about" she's silent for another moment, and she almost looks giddy, "Actually Spencer, you might already know a little something about the matter already, now that I think about it" she smirks, and it's pure joy.

My keys are in my hand ready to bolt when the doorbell chimes again. "Oh, that'll actually be the pizza this time, if you two will excuse me" she hops up out of the armchair and races to the door, leaving the two of us alone in a horrible silence. The tension is almost too much, I want to speak but I really have no idea what to say, or how to even start saying it. But he starts.

"Y/N what's going on, I feel like I'm out of the loop here? What am I missing?" he asks, and there's something uncharacteristically genuine about the way he says it, but he can't turn to look at me as he speaks. I almost want to let my guard down and just have a conversation but I can’t force myself to do it. "Shut up Reid." is all I mutter, folding my arms across my chest.

He turns sharply on the sofa to face me. "Hey Y/N. Believe it or not I'm about as happy as you with whatever kind of Parent Trap situation Garcia's got going on here. But from what I'm picking up on you've got a problem and I'm supposed to be able to help with it. So do you want to tell me what's going on or not? I can just go?" I can see that there's an anger bubbling right below the surface, threatening to burst. I know I shouldn't but I let him stew in silence for a little too long and he jumps up off the sofa.

"Y'know what, typical" he mutters, rolling his eyes as he says it, "this is all about you." he throws his bag over his shoulders and begins to walk towards the door. Something in me just snaps.

"All about me?! Are you fucking kidding? I've been tip-toeing around you for years, ever since I joined this damn unit!" I shout as Garcia comes back into the room, pizza box and plates in her hands.

"So, who's hungry?" Garcia asks, trying to break the tension, or pretending there's no tension at all. Reid shakes his head in disbelief and rubs his temple before he speaks again, "Actually I was just gonna head out" he gestures to the door, "I'm clearly not wanted here so I'm gonna leave you guys to it." Spencer makes a move to leave but Garcia grabs the strap of his shoulder bag, yanking him back ever so slightly before he really has the chance to escape.

"You are going absolutely nowhere kid" She points back to the sofa, "get back there" she glances to me, staring with far too much intensity. "You too, sit." Her voice is more stern than I've ever heard it, even while we were on a case. I can't help but obey her command and I sit back down on the sofa in silence. Followed by Reid, clearly processing the same uneasy feeling of a serious Penelope.

She sits opposite the two of us again. "Y/N, Spencer, I love the two of you with all of my heart, albeit separately, and I would die for either one of you. But you've got to chill the hell out!" she says it like she's had it bottled up forever. The tension that releases from her as she says it looks euphoric.

She opens up the pizza box and lays it on the coffee table and takes out a slice for herself. Taking a bite she leaves the two of us in stunned silence. Once she finishes the mouthful she turns to me specifically, "Y/N you tell him, or I will." dead serious. And the feeling in my belly is like I've just fallen down an elevator shaft.

My stomach is in knots as I turn to Spencer on the sofa next to me. His face is puzzled and I think I might be able to make out pure terror in his expression. I don't know that I've ever been looked at like this before and my stomach screws up tighter. I have to take a deep breath and I can't believe I'm about to say it. "Fuck it" I have to take another breath almost immediately so I just have to force the rest out, "I don't know if you heard the call I was on while we were in the elevator earlier?" I look up to gauge his reaction and I can see his face relax, and worse than that, one corner of his mouth lifts into a sort of smile. It's a look of pure smug satisfaction and I think I might scream. I have to close my eyes because I really don't think I can look at that face as I say the next part.

"My sister is getting married in a few months and my Mom's been on my ass to find a date for the wedding and she keeps trying to set me up with these losers, so I fucking panicked, and I told her you were my date." by the time the sentence is out my eyes have screwed up so tight it feels like I have to pry them open.

He sits in silence for too long. Thinking, maybe?

"So I'm the boy who teases you then?" he grins. So he did hear. And he did laugh. He looks far too self satisfied. Now he knows he's right. He knows I've talked to my Mom about him, that he's gotten in my head. I can tell from his smile that he's savoring the moment. Mostly because I can't slap the smug smile off his face I drop my head into my hands. In an effort to disappear I guess.

"So," he says, taking a moment, "is that all you wanted to say then?" he asks, lighthearted and obnoxious, back to his usual self. I snap back to reality, shooting my head back up.

"What do you mean is that all?" I throw back genuinely shocked,

"Is that all you had to say Y/N? Can I go now? It's a long bus ride home y'know" he smirks but makes no effort to move. He can't possibly be making me do this.

"Well no, obviously!" I stutter, "I mean, are you, will you, uh?" I can't bring myself to say it out loud. He leans in on the sofa looking directly at me, refusing to break eye contact.

"Did you have something you wanted to ask me Y/N?" I just want to smack that fucking look off his face,

"Fuck you Spencer Reid" I almost whisper under my breath, but Garcia snaps me back to reality.

"Hey!" she looks at me, stern again, "Ask him." it's not a question, or a suggestion, it's a command.

"Fine okay" I scrunch my eyes up again, "Will you come to my sisters wedding with me as my fake boyfriend?" I curl up into myself as I say it, I can almost feel the bile rising up from my stomach. Like I'm having a biological reaction to the whole thing.

Reid crosses his arms and sinks back on the sofa, like he's performing the act of thinking. He's considering my offer to make me squirm.

When he finally speaks he says "Well I would Y/N, but I really fail to see what's in it for me" he's after getting cocky now.

Garcia pipes up, excited, "Oh, Oh! I know! I have an idea!" she interjects, "Spencer remember how a while ago, back after your apartment flooded you were all all worried about your antique books and prints and stuff?" he nods, "Well Y/N could digitize the collection for you as a back up? I know you're a technophobe? C'mon Y/N, you know you could do that no sweat, and it would take you a lifetime alone Spencer?" I really don't want to admit it but she's right. Even I knew Reid was adverse to any technology that wasn't vital, but it was your specialty. And maybe that was a good trade off, a job like that would be near impossible for him to pull off without help. I take a glance over at Reid and he seems to have had the same train of thought as me. He lets out an exaggerated sigh and relaxes his posture.

"Fine, I guess that's a fair trade. I'm in." he resigns and I almost can't believe it. I'm barely processing the whole conversation as he sticks his hand out to me, I'm confused for a second before I grab it and shake it firmly. Condemning myself to whatever's about to happen. And it's not the time to be thinking about it but maybe this is the first time Spencer and I have ever touched? But I shove that thought away.

Garcia's positively beaming and she's not even trying to hide it. "Now it's like you're both in a Sandra Bullock movie, oh, but you're Hugh Grant maybe?" she points to Reid.

"Don't push it" I shoot in her direction, taking a slice of pizza, now that my anxiety stomach has sort of passed.

Once the pizza's been eaten in near completely awkward silence Spencer stands up off the sofa. His unsure demeanor has returned and he looks nervous. "I actually should get going this time" he says but Garcia pipes up to protest,

"No, it's not even late!"

"It takes me a while to get back home, thank you though Pen. For... this?" he gestures to the whole living room, "Night" he waves. He's almost made it to the door before I stand up out of my seat. I'm not really sure what comes over me, maybe it's gratitude, maybe it's guilt, or maybe I'm just exhausted.

"Wait Spencer. Let me give you a ride home?" I ask and it's like it's not even me saying it .

"Thanks, but I think I can make it home just fine" he dismisses, and there’s an antagonizing tone in his voice that snaps me right back to our usual rapport.

"I'm trying to do a nice thing here, fuck! Just let me do something nice!" I snap, and he throws his arms up in surrender.

"Fine alright, if it'll make you feel better"

"Fuck you Reid" I mutter under my breath and I sort of hope that he does hear me really. If he's gonna be hostile about this I can be too. I give Garcia a hug goodbye but I'm going to scold her for this whole thing later.

----

I lead the way outside and climb into my car, Spencer hops into the passenger seat and it feels as strange as always to be alone with him. Especially because it's not an accident, and it's not in work. Maybe this was a horrible idea. He seems like he's unwilling to break the silence, so I just get it over with.

"Where the hell do you live man? I'm gonna need directions." I say, as deadpan as I can muster, which probably isn't all that intimidating.

"Sorry, yeah, so you're gonna want to turn on the ignition" he teases. I definitely wasn't intimidating enough.

"Don't push it" I say, turning to give him a cruel stare, he just reacts with a smirk, that same one from the elevator earlier.

"Oh, I'm pushing it?" he asks, feigning disbelief

"I'll kick you out of this damn car" is all I can think to say. He barely responds, he just lets out a soft chuckle. I want to ask 'what's so funny' but he speaks before I can get the words out.

"I can't believe you talk to your Mom about me" he continues to laugh. That's enough.

"You know what Reid, of course I have! I work with actual murderers on a daily basis and somehow you've been the only real source of friction in my life since I joined the BAU!" He stops giggling a little, but not entirely, he looks like he's making an effort to contain himself.

"I'm sorry. I guess I just never knew I got to you like that" he still finds the whole thing amusing, but I sure as hell don't.

"Directions, now" I demand, looking straight out the front windshield.

"Fine, keep going straight on this road for a while and I'll tell you when to turn" he says, finally playing nice.

The two of us drive silently for most of the journey, the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually we arrive outside his building, and it's nicer than I thought it would be. But I have no idea what I was really basing that on. For some reason it hadn't occurred to me that Dr. Reid lived in an actual home, I had pictured him sleeping upside down in a cave maybe, or in a cryogenic chamber with all the other life-like genius robots.

"So," he says, breaking the silence, "When is this wedding?"

"4 months from now, in and around" I respond, matter of factly. Spencer nods, taking it in.

"Alright, so I've got 4 months, in and around, to learn enough to convincingly pass as your loving boyfriend. Doesn't sound so difficult." he jokes, his tone harsh and sarcastic.

"Look Spencer, I know this is insane and honestly kind of stupid. But in all seriousness, you can back out right now if you're not on board with whatever this is. I'm telling you this is the last exit ramp." I try to say it with sincerity, giving him a genuine out if he's not comfortable with the weird set-up that Penelope pulled on us both. He thinks on it for a moment and shakes his head.

"So how are we gonna do this?" he asks, and I really thought he was going to back out. So I don't have an actual answer.

"Well, I uh, I haven't really given a plan much thought. How about I come over and start working on some of the stuff you want digitized like Garcia mentioned and I can use the time to give you the footnotes on my life?" I suggest, at least that would make it easier to knock things out all at once. Rather than having to spend even more of my free time with Reid than necessary. He looks content with the improvised plan.

"Alright, sounds good." he undoes his seatbelt and opens the door to hop out of the car before turning back to me, "Are you coming inside or what?"

— —

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a-room-of-my-own · 3 years ago

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A while before the latest hoo-ha about Judith Butler, I had just been reading her again. Though she claims her critics have not read her, this simply isn’t the case. I read Gender Trouble when it first came out and it was important at the time . That time was long,long ago. She was just one of the many ‘post-structuralist’ thinkers I was into. I would trip off to see Luce Irigaray or Derrida whenever they appeared.

I got an interview with Baudrillard and tried to sell it to The Guardian but they didn’t know who he was so its fair to say I was fairly immersed in that world of theory. For a while, I had a part time lecturing job so I had to keep on top of it. Though Butler’s idea of gender as performance was not new , it was interesting. RuPaul said it so much more clearly in a quote nicked from someone else “Honey ,we are born naked, the rest is drag”

What I was looking for again , I guess is not any clarity – her writing is famously and deliberately difficult- but whether there was ever any sense of the material body. She wrote herself in 2004 “I confess however I am not a very good materialist. Every time I try to write about the body, the writing ends up being about language” .

Butler from on high ,cannot really think about the body at all which is why they (Butler’s chosen pronoun) are now the high priestess of a particular kind of trans ideology. The men who worship Butler are not versed in high theory. The fox botherer had a “brain swoon” at some very ordinary things Butler said. Mr Right Side of history nodded along in an interview. Clearly neither of these men are versed in any of this philosophy and would be better off sticking to tax law and the decline of the Labour Party. Butler is simply a totem for them.

Butler said in the Guardian interview for instance “Gender is an assignment that does not just happen once: it is ongoing. We are assigned a sex at birth and then a slew of expectations follow which continue to “assign” gender to us.”

So yeah? That’s a fairly basic view of the social construction of gender though I take issue with the assigned at birth thing ,which I will come back to and why I started reading her again in the first place.

This phrase “Assigned sex at birth” is now common parlance but simply does not make sense to me. I am living with someone who is pregnant. I have given birth three times and been a birthing partner. I know where babies come from. There is a deep disconnect here between language and reality which no amount of academic jargon can obliterate.

Babies come from bodies. Not any bodies but bodies that have a uterus. They grew inside a woman’s body until they get pushed out or dragged out into the world.

The facts of life that we are now to be liberated from in the form of denial. Only one sex can have babies but we must now somehow not say that. The pregnant “people” of Texas will now be forced into giving birth to children they don’t want because they are simply “host bodies”. The language of patriarchal supremacy and that of some of the trans ideologues is remarkably close, as is their biological ignorance.

There is no foetal heatbeat at six weeks for instance. When a baby is born , doctors and midwives do not randomly assign a sex, they observe it and they do it though genitalia.

There is a question over a tiny percentage of babies ,less that one percent with DSDs but even then they are sexed with doctors having difficult conversations with parents about what may happen later.

Somehow, though when I read the way in which this is now all discussed it is clear to me that the people talking have never been pregnant, never had a foetal scan, never been near a birth , never miscarried, do not understand that even with a still birth babies are still sexed and often named.

If you want to know the sex of your baby you can pay privately and know at 7 weeks ((*49-56 days from the first day of the mother’s last menstrual cycle). A 12 week scan will show it. That is why so many female foetuses are aborted . I have reported on this.

Talking to paediatricians about this is interesting because they do indeed have to think through these things that we are being told are not real eg. that sex is just a by-product of colonialism for instance. Sometimes pre-conception , geneticists will be looking at chromosomes because certain diseases are more likely in men or women. Males have a higher risk of haemophilia for instance.

One doctor told me “When babies are premature, the survival advantage of females over males is well known throughout neonatology. This is sometimes something we talk about with parents when there is threatened premature labour around 23 weeks' gestation and options to discuss about resuscitation and medical interventions. In fertility treatment (or counselling around fertility in the context of medical treatments) it is pretty inherent to know whether we need to plan around sperm, or ova + pregnancy.”

She also said that if she involved in a birth that “assigning” isn’t the word she world use. “Observed genitals a highly reliable observation, just like measuring weight or head circumference which is also done at this time. “ Another doctor said that anyone involved with a trans man giving birth would be doing the best for the patient in front of them.

Sex then is biological fact. A female baby will have all the eggs she will ever have when she is first born which is kind of amazing. It is not bio-essentialist to say that our sexed bodies are different nor is it transphobic to recognise it.

Except of course in my old newspaper ,The Guardian who are now so hamstrung by their own ideology they have got their knickers in such a twist they can barely walk. They completely misreported the WiSpa incident , basically ignored the Sonia Appleby judgement at the Tavistock. Appleby was a whistle blower ,a respected professional concerned with safe guarding. She won her case. The cherry on the cake this week was an interview with Butler, themselves (?) in which they went on about Terfs being fascists and needing to extend the category of women.

Does anyone EVER stop to think that most gender critical women are of the left, supporters of gay rights, often lesbian and that this is not America? We are not in bed with the far right. This is bollocks. Just another way to dismiss us.

As we watch Afghanistan and Texas ,to say Butler’s words were tone deaf is to say the least. But they didn’t even have the guts to keep the most offensive stuff in the piece and overnight edited it out without really explaining why : the bits where Butler described gender critical people as fascist. Perhaps because the person their “reporters” had defended against transphobia at WiSpa turned out to be a known sex offender, perhaps because someone pointed out that Butler was throwing around the word fascist rather like Rik Mayall used to do in the Young Ones.

All of this is rather desperate and readers deserve better. When I left that newspaper I said that I thought and expected editors to stand up for their writers in public. Instead they go into some catatonic paralysis. I may have not liked this interview but it should never have been cut. Stand by what you publish or your credibility is shot.

But this is about more than Judith Butler and their refusal to support women . Butler is not really any kind of feminist at all. What this is about is the large edifice of trans ideology crumbling when any real analysis is applied. Yes, I have read Shon Faye’s book and there are some interesting points in it and I totally agree that the lives of trans people should be easier and health care better . I have never said anything but that.

What Faye does in the book is say that there can be no trans liberation under capitalism so there will be a bit of a wait I suspect.

Yet surely it is the other way round and what we are seeing is that trans ideology (not trans people – I am making a distinction here ) represent the apex of capitalism .

For it means that the individual decides their own gendered essence and then spends a fortune on surgery and a lifetime on medication to achieve the appearance of it. Of course lots of people spend a lifetime on medication but not out of choice. Marx understood very well that the abolition of our system of production would free up women.

Now it is all about freeing up men. Who say they are women. Quelle surprise.

Nussbaum’s famous take down of Butler is premised exactly on the sense of individual versus collective struggle “ The great tragedy in the new feminist theory in America is the loss of a sense of public commitment. In this sense, Butler’s self-involved feminism is extremely American, and it is not surprising that it has caught on here, where successful middle-class people prefer to focus on cultivating the self rather than thinking in a way that helps the material condition of others. “

Such thinking now dominates academia. There is simply an unquestioning rehearsal of something most of know not to be true thus Amia Srinivasan writes in The Right to Sex “At birth, bodies are sorted as ‘male’ or ‘female’, though many bodies must be mutilated to fit one category or the other, and many bodies will later protest against the decision that was made. This originary division determines what social purpose a body will be assigned.”

What does ‘sorted’ mean here? A tiny number of intersex babies are born. A tiny number of people are trans and decide to change their bodies. The feminist demand to challenge gender norms without mutilating any one’s body no longer matters. What matters now is this retrograde return to some gendered soul. This is not something any decent Marxist would have any truck with . Of course one may change over a lifetime and of course gender is never ‘settled.’ We are complex people who inhabit bodies that often don’t work or appear as we want them to.

But not only is there a denial of basic Marxism going on here , what becomes ever more apparent is that there is a denial of motherhood. Butler said “Yet gender is also what is made along the way – we can take over the power of assignment, make it into self-assignment, which can include sex reassignment at a legal and medical level.”

Self-assignment is key . One may birth oneself. No longer of woman born but self -made. This is a theoretical leap but it also one that has profound implications for women as a sex class. We are really then, just the host bodies to a new breed of people who self-assign.

Maybe that is the future although look around the word and there isn’t a lot of self-assignment going on. There are simply women shot and beaten in the street, choked to death or having their rights taken away. There is no identifying out of this , there is no fluidity here . This is not discourse. It is brutality and do we not have some responsibility to other women to confront male violence ?

Instead the hatred is aided and abetted by so called philosophers describing other women as Terfs. It is utterly depressing.

The sexed body. The pregnant body. The dying body. The body is in trouble when we can’t talk about it . I thought of Margaret Mary O’Hara’s beautiful and strange lyrics and what they might mean. I await my child’s return from the hospital as hers is a difficult pregnancy and thank god they are on the case. The sex of the child she carries does not matter to me at all .

It simply exists. Not in language but within a body.

Why is that so difficult to acknowledge?

#gender critical #feminism #transgender #judith butler #suzanne moore

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sillyrabbit81 · 4 years ago

Text

The Instructor - Part 3

Summary: Agent Walker starts your training.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx 3.2k

Warnings: smut, oral sex (m receiving), rough, fluff?

Masterlist

Part 2 Part 4

Part 3

The plane trip to DC was largely uneventful, for which you were grateful. You didn’t exactly have a fear of flying, you were only scared of crashing. You handled your fear well, except during turbulence.

The flight was smooth, barring one pocket of turbulence. You gasped as the plane dropped in the air and your heart leapt in your chest and you gripped the armrests. Agent Walker was in deep concentration, reading from his laptop. Without taking his eyes off the screen he, uncurled your death grip with warm, gentle fingers, and placed your hand on his thigh before covering it with his. The plane dropped again and your nails dug into his hard muscles. You felt him tense under your touch, sucking in a breath between his teeth, and gave your hand a light squeeze.

You released your pressure on his leg after a few moments of calm air, and removed it altogether after a few minutes. Walker gave a small, dissatisfied grunt when you pulled your hand away. You put your hand back, slipping it under his and were rewarded with a content hum. You left your hand there until you landed.

Now, after disembarking the plane, not a word passes between you and Walker as you follow him out of the airport and into a waiting car. He doesn’t introduce you to the driver, so you follow his lead and stay quiet. You pull up to a standard apartment building in the city, surrounded by other nondescript apartments. You both get out and enter the building as the driver leaves. You shadow Walker into the elevator where he pressed the 9thfloor. The elevator pings as it arrives at the desired level and again you wordlessly follow Walker to an apartment door where he produces a key and lets you in.

He drops his bag on the dining table and you do the same. You stand awkwardly, waiting for him to speak. Is this the room where surveillance would be set up? Is this his room? Your room? Would you be sharing the space?

A door opens and a woman in her late thirties came out. Attractive, well dressed in stylish navy pants and jacket with a knitted sweater, she had the air of confidence you have come to associate with field agents. She looks you up and down, getting your measure, probing for weakness in the same way Walker had on that first day of training. Learning from your mistake, when she meets your eyes you hold her dominant gaze.

She must have approved because she smirks and asks Walker, “Is this Agent New Girl?”

Walker raises an eyebrow and tells her your name.

She scrunches her nose up and says, “I like New Girl better.” She sticks her hand out and says, “I’m Thomas.”

You force a smile and say, “Nice to meet you, Agent Thomas.”

She laughed as we shake hands and says, “Come on, New Girl. We have months of boring listening and watching to do, just call me Thomas.”

Walker picks up his bag, and looking at you he says, “I’m in 907.” He looks at his watch. He continues, completely deadpan, “You’re on duty from six am. Be at my room by four am for a thorough briefing before you start. I suggest you sleep, it’ll be a rough start if you don’t.”

Your façade crumbles at his words and you bite your lip to supress the moan coming from your throat. The first words directed at you in hours were orders laced in seduction, a suggestive reminder of the power he had over you, both professionally and personally. The subtle undertones of his speech, the words he wanted to say were: “Sleep, my pet. You will need it.”

Alone with Thomas, you school your features as you face her. She has a knowing smirk, and although you’re embarrassed, she is light hearted. “Don’t worry New Girl, he has that effect on everyone.”

You allow a giggle to pass your lips, you had to laugh, to ease the tension in your body. Then you stop, curious. With burning cheeks, you play up the New Girl persona and ask, “Should I be worried?” You emphasise your innocence, but hide your desire by asking, “Will he, you know, take advantage?”

Thomas burst with laughter. You look at your feet, hoping the modesty ruse works. “Nah, he’s not like that. He’s hot as fuck, but cold as ice.”

No, you wanted to tell her, he’s not cold. He’s warm, but has locked that part of himself down. You remember the burning kiss he gave you as you left your apartment, there was nothing cold in that. But you also remember the way he pulled away from your touch when your fingers sunk into his hair. No, he wasn’t cold, he was shut down.

“Well, that’s a relief,” you say to Thomas. “Where do I sleep?”

Your alarm wakes you at 3.30 am. You had slept but it was fitful. You woke several times, once so aroused you thought you may have gotten your period you were so wet with anticipation.

You shower, dress, before going to his room, and hope Walker will offer you a coffee at some stage. You knock on his door, and pray your knees don’t give out.

He answers the door in pyjama pants. You see his chest for the first time, and you can’t help staring. You knew he was impressively built, but somehow his finely tailored suits hid his true size. His chest was covered in dark curly hair, and you wanted to sink your fingers into his fur. Would it be soft or coarse? Would it tickle your nose as you kissed him there? Would he allow you kiss him?

His face doesn’t give anything away as he greets you simply with a nod and says, “Agent.” Standing aside from the door, he lets you in with a gruff, “You’re early.”

You mumble an apology, and hear the door close behind you as you enter his apartment. You stand with your head down, waiting. You feel Walker’s breath on your neck and register the heat from his body as he moves behind you. You don’t know how long you stand there, but you don’t move, you wait, wait for him to say something, do something, anything.

“Did you read all of the report I sent you?” He says into your ear. He is closer than you thought he was, his unshaven lip tickles the shell of your ear as he speaks.

“Yes,” you reply, breathless as Walkers body presses into yours. You feel his hand wrap possessively around your throat, lifting your head. His other hand comes over your shoulder, sliding down your chest and into the top of your shirt.

“That’s my good girl,” Walker praises you. “We will have more time for your training,” he says as he slips his huge hand into your bra, cupping your breasts, feeling their weight, digging his fingers into your soft flesh.

You’re confused by his words, you don’t need any more training, not for this case anyway. It was a simple surveillance with express orders not to engage. One of the simplest field assignments you could get. You’re about to ask why you would need training when you feel his lips brush your neck and hear him sniff at your skin and hair.

“I like the perfume you use,” he smells you again and you feel him press himself into your back. “Keep using it, I will add it to the rules.”

At first the words wash over you as you melt under his kisses and hands. His soft warm mouth plays with your neck while his rough hand grips your throat and kneads your breasts.

“Wait,” you try to say, your thoughts are dreamlike under his touch, you’re not sure if you understand him. “Training? Rules?” you mumble.

Walker grunts, “You’re mine, aren’t you, pet? My girl needs rules to know how to behave.” Walker’s hand on your throat tightens and he bites into your flesh, “You want to please me, don’t you?”

Your body shudders, your heart’s rhythm becomes a faltering mess. Fear and excitement grow in your gut. You nod frantically, your voice is unreliable, you don’t trust yourself not to beg for him. If just the implication of his dominance makes you feel this way, you can’t imagine what it would actually be like under his control, under his rules, under his instruction.

Walker lets you go and makes his way to his dining table where his coffee and breakfast is laid out. He sits, his legs spread wide on his chair, the flimsy material of his pants, leave nothing to the imagination as you see the outline of his nearly fully erect cock. He studies you a moment, and says, “Take your clothes off, leave your underwear, stockings and heels.”

Taken aback you bite your lip a moment, and Walker tutted at your hesitation. Not wanting to annoy him further you take off your jacket, button up shirt and skirt. “Good girl,” Walker’s smooth baritone crooned with a gentle roll of the r. Your body warms and heat fills your wet core, both from the praise and the way his eyes ravish you. Then he taps one of his knees. “Sit,” he orders. Not wanting to be admonished for hesitating you go to him and perch yourself on his thigh, your legs resting between his. He wraps an arm around your waist, bouncing you slightly on his knee while he pulls you close. His chest is warm against your naked arm and his curly hair is soft as it rubs against your skin. You want to snuggle into him, but you resist and sit up straight.

“Did you eat before you came to see me?” Walker asks. You shake your head. Once again, he is disappointed. “No more skipping meals pet, you need your strength.”

“Sorry, Walker,” you say. You hated disappointing him, it upset you in a way you couldn’t describe, like it wasn’t just that he wasn’t happy, it was that you wanted to make him happy and any time you didn’t made you feel inadequate.

“When we are alone, I am August or Sir,” he tells you. With a grin he says, “Daddy, if you’re being playful.”

“Yes, Sir,” you reply, your brows furrow in confusion. August and Sir you understood, but Daddy? Usually, Daddy was for a softer Dom, and you hadn’t expected that from him. You knew he had a warmth in him, but you didn’t realise he knew he had it too.

“Don’t let me fool you, pet. I won’t accept bratty behaviour, I enjoy giving punishment. But, do what I want and I can be generous.” He leans over his breakfast and cuts a piece of egg and bacon off and brings the fork to your lips. “Open,” he says.

August alternates between the two of you, feeding you a mouthful then himself. He shares his drink with you too, although you usually like cream in yours, you drink his black unsweetened coffee when he lifts the glass to your lips.

You’re surprised at how turned on you are by sharing this moment with him. It’s almost a glimpse into a life with him, a life where you lived together, had normal lives, maybe even married. You wanted none of those things before, but sitting on August’s knee, having him feed you, you wanted it.

When you were both finished, August glances at his watch. His lips draw into a tight line and you worry you had done something else to disappoint him. Then he looks and you, his eyes on your breasts then moving down your body, mapping you with his eyes. His hand moves between your knees, pushing them apart until he can see your covered slit. You close your eyes, embarrassed, knowing what he would see. He doesn’t comment on the wet patch on your underwear, but you hear a small groan which makes your already throbbing core ache.

“Open your eyes, pet.” August orders. You open them and his bright blue orbs burn into you and you notice for the first time, the brown spot covering the top of his eye. It was as if he came with a warning label, there is a dark spot within him, but his darkness was as beautiful to you as the rest of him.

You lick your lips, your urge to kiss him is strong, you want to show him you want him. The flick of your tongue calls August’s attention away from your eyes and he studies your lips. Your lips part, you lick them again in a silent plea to him, the anticipation too much.

With a nearly indiscernible throat clear August says, “Get up.” His voice is deep and throaty and leaves no room for argument. He guides you to his bedroom and pushes you to your knees in front of him. “If you’re going to offer me your tongue, pet. I will take it.”

August reaches into his pants and pulls out his rapidly hardening cock. He tugs it a few times, you watched rapt as his huge hands twist over his head and down over his broad shaft. You moan as you watch him grow harder, the sight of him holding himself while looking at you is too much. You want to feel him in your mouth, make him feel good, pull from him the reward of his groans and his seed. He looks down at you with blazing azure eyes, and a menacing curl on his lip. His free hand grips your hair, guiding you to him. Without being asked you open your mouth.

There is no gentleness in August now. He presses you deep onto his cock, forcing himself into you until you gag and your stomach heaves. He pulls your head away as tears well in your eyes. “Beautiful,” he whispers.

Forcing you on him again, he fucks your mouth. Thrusting himself into you while pulling your head onto him, you fall into a daze. You keep your jaw open, trying to keep your teeth away from him, your lips fold over your teeth. The bruising action of his pumping cock cause your teeth to press painfully on your fleshy lips and you can feel them swelling. You can’t see August anymore, your sight is too blurry from your tears, but you can hear him. You can hear the grunts as he punishes your mouth, the breathy ‘fuck’ he moans as he uses you and you know you would let him do almost anything to hear him react like that.

His rhythm starts to falter and you prepare yourself for his orgasm, excited to know how he tastes. But he doesn’t, he pulls your hair back so your face pointed up to his, his lips are pulled back, his teeth bared, he sucks in breath which whistles through his teeth. You know he is close.

“Keep your mouth open,” he growls through his clenched teeth. He pumps himself now, and you want to watch but he forces you to look at his face. You watch his eye brows raise and his mouth open as his orgasm hits and the deep guttural cry of his release is followed swiftly by the thick ropes of his seed painting your waiting tongue. His pulse is uncontrolled as he decorates your lips, cheeks and chin.

A long rolling shudder moves over his body and he lets out a content moan. It was one of the single most erotic things you had ever seen. He puffs out a breath and smirks at you. You can’t help but smile back, he appears so relaxed now, almost happy. You’ve never seen him happy.

He tilts his head as he uses his fingers to gather this cum onto his fingers and feeds it you. You eagerly lick his fingers clean with a moan, you feel so proud that you have made him happy. When he has finished feeding you for the second time that morning, he tucks himself in his pants and checks the time. He pulls the covers back and gets into bed, patting the spot next to him, indicating you should join him with a flick of his head.

Sliding your shoes off, you slip in beside him, he lays your head on him stroking your hair a while. You press your ear to his chest and listen to his slowing heart rate, its low reverberation almost lulling you back to sleep. He doesn’t say anything for a long time and when he does speak you are surprised by his question. “Why did you join the CIA? The real reason, not the one in your file.”

Your heart skips a beat. Does he know? Is it his way of telling me? You think for a while, not sure of how to answer. “My aunt was an Agent. She went missing ten years ago. I didn’t want to follow in her footsteps. I wanted to know what happened to her.”

Your reply was an act of trust, the answer could get you thrown out of the Agency. You weren’t supposed to want to know things that were above your security clearance. Wanting to know something was dangerous. If the CIA thought you should know, they will tell you, otherwise, ask no questions.

August just hums and doesn’t ask anything else. For a few more minutes you lay on his chest, until he says, “Time to clean up, Pet and get to work.”

You moan and push your face into his chest, wrapping your arms and legs around him. “I don’t want to, August.”

“If you’re going to whine when it’s time to go, then perhaps we won’t be able to do this again tonight.” His threat gets you out of bed. You are sure August doesn’t make a threat he isn’t prepared to go through with. “Good choice, Pet. I admit, this morning was a little selfish, but tonight we will have longer.” He promises. You go to his bathroom, wash your face and when you return you find your clothes laid on your bed with a black velvet box sitting on top.

Curious, you dress first then sitting on the now made bed you open it to find a discreet day collar. It was gold and was a simple rigid, thin ring shape that required a special hex key to open and close.

“Will you wear it?” August’s voice came from the doorway. Stunned you look from the collar to him and back to the collar. You don’t know what to say. It was pretty and wouldn’t warrant comment, but you still worried about it. Glancing at August again, you couldn’t say no. Wearing his collar, having a sign of his ownership was something you hadn’t dreamed he would want. But you realised how wrong you were, when August owned you, he wanted all of you and wanted you to know it.

“Yes,” you say and take him the box. He opens it and places it around your neck, and you hear the mechanism click in place.

August’s eyes dance as he kisses your swollen and bruised lips. “Now you really are mine, Pet.”

Part 4

Tag List:

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay

#august walker #august walker x reader #august walker x you #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #mission impossible fallout #august walker smut #august walker fanfiction

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klbwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Unexpected Allies - Chapter 1

Fandom: Six of Crows/Shadow and Bone

Pairing: eventually will be Kaz/female!Reader but for now nothing

Warnings: I mean, Kaz Brekker is involved, someone is getting maimed

Summary: The Darkling won the Ravka civil war, defeating the Sun Summoner and taking command of Ravka. Then he went looking for ways to make his Grisha more powerful. Kaz Brekker knew this but took the job at the Ice Court anyway, getting himself and Jesper Fahey thrown into a Ravkan prison for his efforts. After getting broken out by the Darkling's second in command the trio has to find their way to the Permafrost and the resistance gathering there. And then Kaz has to figure out a way to get his crew out of this whole mess. But how can he get himself out of the mess of feelings he has for the Grisha with all the powers?

Note: Hello! I am alive! I have found motivation for something else! As much as I loved the Shadow and Bone show I have found more love in the Six of Crows books so this fic is an AU based on both. In this the Darkling won out over Alina and then Six of Crows happened like it does, except the Darkling showed up to ruin things as he does. Also going to address the Inej sized elephant in the room, in this Kaz’s feelings were less strong towards her because I ship the fuck out of Kaz and Inej but I also ship the shit out of Kaz and myself too and I needed some self-insert. I hope you like it, I missed writing and I’m glad to find some inspiration again.

Kaz Brekker was known even in prison as the guy who didn't need a reason. He wanted his infamy to spread even behind bars, the better to keep those looking for a pigeon to harass away. On his first day in this hellscape he had stolen a fork from the dining hall and used it when his cellmate attempted to take the makeshift cane that he had been provided from his hand. Now he no longer had a cellmate and his old cellmate no longer had his eyes, and word spread quick of the young man willing to kill to be left alone. That had given him the time and space to start to plan his escape.

First, get Jesper as his cellmate. That was accomplished with ease. Anyone else they put in with him would be blind or deaf or crippled within 24 hours so it came down the guards asking him straight out who he wouldn't maim. He said Jesper Fahey and they allowed it if only to have a night's peace. Jesper didn't look like he was faring well. In a cell at Hellgate Jesper would have been alright but here in a West Ravkan prison near Os Alta where his Zemeni features made him stand out he had become a target. When he entered Kaz's cell rage filled the young crime lord. Jesper was thinner than ever, dark circles under his eyes and hands fidgeting constantly, almost like he needed a drug but Kaz knew it was just because he couldn't focus his energy.

"Jesper," Kaz whispered after the guard had left and his sharpshooter sat on the cot. "What do you need?" Jesper looked at him slowly and gave half a smile.

"Just my friend, s'all ok now," he said. Kaz felt the side of his mouth twitch up just a little. "But I could also use a way out of this damned place." Kaz nodded, gripping the wooden walking stick a little tighter. He wanted to put a comforting hand on Jesper's shoulder but he could not, Jordie's body, cold and wet and dead flooded his mind, and he couldn't bring himself to reach out. He hated that this place seemed to be tearing his friend apart slowly. It was even taking a toll on him. Everyday was the same, waked up with the sun, eat a breakfast of stodgy porridge and soggy bread, washed down with possibly the grimiest coffee ever made. The prisoners were then sent outside to work on either the large farm for the prison and surrounding towns or they were forced to be target practice for the Grisha guards. Normally only the worst of the worst were reserved for practice, or those that pissed off the guards. Kaz had avoided this so far but he knew Jesper had run his mouth one day, getting snarky with the yard guard and he had almost been drowned by a Tidemaker the next morning. Lunches were non-existant most days. They were shuffled from work to 'free time' which meant sitting in the hot afternoon sun either playing cards, or, if they were lucky, sitting under one of the shady trees that scattered the yard. Evening was the only decent time at this hellhole, it was dinner, and then back to the cells. Kaz enjoyed this time, he was normally alone to plan, and now that Jesper was here they could plan together. He had the beginning, how to get out of the cell, but the rest he was still working on.

"I have been planning this since we got in here, you were the first part of my plan," Kaz said, watching as another set of guards walked by. He checked the small window above their heads. "She's coming any minute now." Jesper looked at him confused for a moment before the cell door opened and a guard told Kaz to get up. Kaz nodded and stood, Jesper rising as well.

"This one should come too, he was at the Ice Court with me on that night," Kaz said to the guard. The guard looked between them and shrugged, motioning for another guard, a Grisha Corpolaki judging from the kefta he wore. They led Kaz and Jesper out of the cells and into one of the small interrogation rooms. Kaz was familiar with the room at this point, having been there several times in the past few months speaking with the Grisha Infernei who was seated at one of the two chairs in the room. She looked up as they entered and he noticed that she seemed relieved, something she hadn't shown before.

"Are there anymore of your comrades from the Ice Court in this prison?" she asked, motioning for another chair to be brought in. Jesper sat down hard while Kaz stood still, leaning on the walking stick and once again studying the Infernei. She wore a red kefta with black stitching, something different from the others and he was still not sure why. He supposed it was because she was high in the ranks. After the Darkling defeated Alina Starkov and her followers he had gone back to using his true name, Aleksander Morosova, and became king of Ravka. He used the power that he had sucked from the Sun Summoner to control the Fold now, moving and reshaping it to whatever he needed and on the night of Kaz's jurda parem heist he apparently needed the jurda parem also. Kaz and Jesper had been taken but the others had escaped.

"No, no more of us, just we two were involved," he said. The Grisha looked between them, assessing them. Kaz took another moment to look over her while she studied Jesper. He always liked to measure who he was up against, and he didn't mind studying her. She was curvy, seeming to like waffles more than Nina did, with hair a deep auburn and eyes the color of dark chocolate. The first time he saw them they reminded him of Inej's eyes except her's were more hopeful than he had ever seen Inej. This Grisha fully believed that something good could still happen in the world. Kaz was almost jealous of this, but of course, this Grisha had seen her side win the Ravka civil war. His eyes now met hers and he saw that while he was studying her she had been doing the same to him. He could tell she knew he was lying but he didn't care. He had spent the last 4 months keeping his answers vague, giving just enough information so that she would feed him information back about the current situation at the Little Palace, now the true royal home since the Grand Palace lay in ruin. King Aleksander left it as a reminder to those who would attempt to assassinate him, bodies still left scattered around the rubble, Alina Starkov's kefta in tatters on the front steps. Kaz hadn't seen it but from the way this Grisha described it, he believed it was terrifying.

"Mr. Brekker, we both know the heist you were attempting could never be accomplished with just two people," she said, a knowing smile on her face. This seeming infatuation the Grisha had with him was a plus for Kaz. He often wondered if he could possibly seduce his way out of the situation but his mind couldn't fathom the interactions involved, so he would wait. Perhaps this woman had a inclination towards criminals, she might be seduced by anyone, Jesper could do it easily, Kaz just had to get the ball rolling so to speak.

"I don't know, I think Jesper and I can accomplish anything we put out mind to," he answered, bringing himself to nudge his partner in crime with his elbow. The Grisha nodded and opened her notebook as she did at every meeting and began to write.

Y/N had noticed the look on Kaz Brekker's face when he elbowed Jesper Fahey. She could see his hesitation, she noticed the look in his storm gray eyes. He was bracing himself for impact as if the touch would somehow hurt him. Jesper's face was surprised at the touch, and he physically turned towards Kaz with shock. She opened her notebook and pretended to jot down something important as she did every day, but she mentally notated this interaction. She had been listening to others in the prison and despite his limp Kaz never let anyone see him as weak, however, this aversion to touch was never mentioned. He hid it well out in the general population but she could see something about touch bothered him immensely, that information could be useful later. Kaz Brekker was a tough nut to crack she had to admit, but eventually she would get to where she needed to be with him, hopefully sooner rather than later. Aleksander was having a tough time buying her excuses and she had to become even more convincing for him, continuing to keep his trust after the betrayal of the Sun Summoner was an arduous task. She hoped soon she could drop her facade and begin her true purpose, breaking Kaz Brekker and his cohorts out of this prison and find the gathering resistance in the Permafrost.

"Alright Mr. Brekker, we left off yesterday with you explaining to me how you came to know about jurda parem and what the Fjerdans were doing with Bo Yul-Bayor and his son Kuwei?" she said. It had taken months for Kaz to even start explaining anything to her. She had hoped that agreeing to allow his friend to be his cellmate would open him up. Luckily the gamble had worked at their last interrogation. His answers had still been too vague to really make an impact but it was a start. She hated to make him desperate but she needed the information, something to feed to Aleksander and send him on a chase for more jurda parem. Kuwei Yol-Bo had escaped from the Ice Court and that knowledge was keeping Bo from cooperating with the Second Army. He had recreated exactly one vial of jurda parem and refused to create another until his son was returned safely to him. Kaz Brekker and Jesper Fahey had been the last people to see Kuwei alive and she needed something to tell Aleksander before he decided to come here and do the interrogations himself.

"Yes, I believe I told you that a rumor had gone around Ketterdam and that I just happened to hear it," he said, making sure he was as convincing as he could be. Once again Y/N pretended to write something down, pretending to believe his lie. He was a very good liar, she could see that in the way his eyes held truth, his body language said honest, even his pulse was calm, however, the blood in his veins moved just a milisecond faster during his falsehoods. It had taken nearly a month to figure out the tell in his body but she had done it and now she used this against him.

"Must have been quite a rumor to make you put your friends in the line of fire of Fjerdans and of King Aleksander," she said, keeping her voice light, leaning a little closer to him. She couldn't lie, she was enraptured by the young man from the Barrel of Ketterdam, but she wasn't foolish enough to believe that he would ever see her as anything other than another Ravkan Grisha blindly serving her king, but she could pretend that she hoped to lure him in, get him feeling confident about her.

"Jesper will tell you, he was eager to join me to find this new drug, imagine the kruge we could make from such a thing," Kaz said, standing suddenly and poking Jesper towards Y/N with his cane. He moved towards the wall, leaning against it. Y/N watched him for a few moments before turning her attention to Jesper. He wanted to push someone else at her? Why? She could tell he liked the attention she gave him, maybe not in a way most men did, but he liked it all the same. Jesper barked a laugh.

"Eager? You came back and acted like we were going to be rolling in kruge, become kings of Kerch," Jesper said. He was also a practiced liar, following the lead of his boss as it were. Y/N smiled at Jesper then, making sure her brown eyes looked intrigued and enraptured. She noticed the Zemeni man leaned back in his chair then, clearly not interested in the attentions of a Grisha like herself. "But ya, I mean, I wanted the kruge and I was having a good run that night at the tables, felt lady luck was on my side." She saw him fidgeting near his waist, where his guns should be. She had those stored in her private quarters, along with a certain crow headed cane, waiting for the right moment. She had been watching Kaz and Jesper since they arrived, having her spies give her information on them. They were the only link she had to Kuwei and Inej Ghafa and she needed to know all she could before she continued her plan.

She tried to pry more out of the two for several minutes before one of her people, a young Squallor entered.

"The hour is late Korovsa, the king is finished waiting," she whispered. Y/N’s jaw tightened. Her eyes flashed to Kaz and she saw him take notice of the slight change in her features. Her fears were starting to come to pass. She needed to end this charade now.

"Guard, please escort Mr. Fahey back to his new cell. Mr. Brekker and I have more to discuss," she ordered. The guard grabbed Jesper's arm, hauling him from the seat. Y/N wanted to say something, tell them to lay off the guy, but knew she couldn't appear as if she cared. Once he was gone she made a motion for Kaz to sit. He still stood. "Sit, now," she insisted, hoping he heard the urgency in her voice. He eyed for another moment before he moved to sit. She leaned closer, all of her coy attitude gone.

"What's happened?" Kaz asked casually, working the top of the walking stick with his hands, the only sign of his concern. Y/N let out a breath.

"My time is up, tomorrow night expect there to be a riot, stay in your cell with Jesper, don't leave until you hear 2 bells, then leave the cell and go to your left, the door will be ajar due to the last guard through it mistakenly knocking over mop. Once you are in the corridor go right and follow it to the deserted morgue. I will join you and lead you and Jesper out, do not leave without me," she said.

"Why should I believe any of this? That you're just going to help up walk out of there?" Kaz asked, trying to read her, seeing if she was lying. She groaned annoyed. Why was it that her only hope was as distrustful as her current king?

"Because I want to see the king's body burn before he destroys all of us," she whispered, voice dripping with venom. Kaz looked a little surprised at her viciousness and he nodded. She sat back, knowing that by now the guard had returned.

"Well Mr. Brekker, you've once again been no help, tomorrow the king will be coming to personally interrogate you, I hope you are looking forward to it," she said. "Guard take him back to his cell." The guard nodded and yanked him out of the chair. "Careful, the king won't like it if he can't inflict the pain himself," she warned, more to Kaz than the guard. She hoped Kaz believed her enough, that she had shown her hand to him enough that he would do as she asked. If he didn't they were all screwed.

#six of crows #kaz #kaz brekker #kazbrekker #kaz x reader #kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone #crooked kingdom #jesper fahey #unexpected allies series

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princehrry-writings · 4 years ago

Text

Stella’s first time alone with Harry

ahhhh!! i've been wanting to write some extras for daddy? and this kind of just came to me. i thought it would be a good first extra to start it off. send in any thoughts or requests you have for this little series!!

wordcount: 2370

It was very last minute. Y/n had been called into a last minute session and while she usually would bring Stella along, she knew the people around the artist she was working with were going to be doing an abundance of drugs and drinking various alcohols while they worked and she wasn’t about to bring her 4 year old around all of that. She didn’t mind it but her baby didn’t need to see that.

So she called Harry. Ever since they became official and he became a more permanent piece in Stella’s life, he’d been wanting to spend more time with her to bond. He was taking this whole father thing very seriously and Y/n could honestly cry, it was so cute. He wanted to be there when she went to bed and when she woke up. He wanted to make her breakfast in the morning. He wanted to comfort her when she woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. It was adorable how bad he wanted her to be comfortable with him.

Of course he didn’t want to overwhelm her, so he knew he had to take it slow and Y/n had told him this a few times now.

She’s still not used to being around someone so often, so it may take some time for her to really warm up to you. She explained. Of course there had been that night on the couch when Harry had confessed his feelings and all of this had begun, but that was kind of a one time thing as she hadn’t done that again. There were times where she still shied away from him, where she wouldn’t let him near her. Y/n had never exposed her to this much male attention before so she understood why Stella was still weary. She would be too if all the sudden her mom started bringing this dude she’d only met a few times around more often.

He had agreed before Y/n could even finish her sentence.

Of course I’ll watch her tonight, Love! What time should I head over?

He was there at 4:45. Y/n had to be at the studio at 5:30. This gave her enough time to make sure Stella would be ok here with just Harry and to make sure Harry had all the right emergency contacts and little tidbits he needed before she had to go.

“Ok baby, you gonna be ok with Harry tonight?” The mother asked her baby, crouched down to her level in front of the door, ready to cancel if the girl were to say no.

“Yeah mommy!” Stella smiled shyly, holding her mom's hand lightly, twisting back and forth. Y/n smiled and nodded, kissing her baby’s forehead and standing to her full height.

Harry stepped up to her, giving her a light kiss on the mouth, pressing his forehead to hers when he pulled away.

“We’ll be ok tonight Love. Won’t we Stell?” He smiled down at Stella, reaching down and pushing back her crazy baby hairs from out of her face. The child giggled and quickly nodded, hugging her moms legs before she shouted an excited bye mommy! and ran back to the living room, where her favorite movie Princess and The Pauper was playing. Harry and Y/n could hear her singing “I’m just like you, you’re just like me. It’s something anyone can see.” although it sounded more like “I just wike you, oou just wike meee, somefin anyone can seeee.” Y/n almost dropped everything to stay home at that. She loved hearing her little Stella sing, and now she didn’t want to miss anything while she was gone.

“Send me pictures so it feels like I’m here with you guys!” Y/n pouted, stepping into Harry’s open arms, resting her head on his shoulder. He pressed continuous kisses to her forehead, rubbing his hand up and down her back. He didn’t want his girl to be sad, but he understood that she didn’t love the idea of leaving Stella, even if she trusted Harry would take care of her. She hadn’t left Stella to go to work in years, she’s not used to it anymore.

“Ok Lovie, you’re gonna be late. I’ve got this, I’ll call you if anything goes wrong, I’ll send you all the pictures, and I’ll be waiting with open arms and a glass of wine when you come home.” His last kiss landed on her lips, deep and passionate, telling her all the things he wasn’t able to say with words. She nodded, leaning into his touch one last time before heading out the door.

Harry took a deep breath once her car had left the driveway, walking back into the living room to see Stella sitting quietly on the couch, watching her movie.

“Hey Stella, mind if I sit and watch the movie with you?” He asked. She shook her head, patting the spot next to her like she had seen her mom do before. Harry smiled and went to sit next to her. To his surprise, the baby laid her head down on his thigh, sticking her first finger in her mouth and let herself drift off to sleep while the movie played. Y/n had told him she usually took a nap right before dinner, which was at 6 for her. He smiled down at her, watching as her little chest rose up and down in steady, even breaths, wishing nothing but good dreams on her.

The man reached for his phone, snapping a quick picture and sending it to his girlfriend.

out like a light🥺 he attached to the message, not expecting a response as he knew she was still driving.

When the clock hit 5:30, Harry gently moved the girls head off his leg and set her up on the couch, sticking a pillow on the edge just in case she rolled around in her sleep, and went to start dinner. When he had first gotten there Stella had requested Mac n Cheese for dinner so he got to work boiling the water and measuring out the milk and everything that needed to be done, periodically checking back to where she was sleeping.

When it was finished he tiptoed back over to the couch, crouching down to her and smoothing her hair back, pressing light kisses to her cheek. Whispering, he said “Stella, m’love, time f’dinner. Wake up, baby.”

The girl stirred, letting out little whines and stretching out her little arms and legs. Her eyes peeled open, still riddled with sleep and he wanted to cooe at her and wrap her up in his arms. She’s just so adorable.

“Mac n cheese?” She mumbled and he breathed a laugh through his nose.

“Yes baby, I made mac n cheese for you.” He brushed his thumb over her small cheekbone, knowing she was always extra cuddly when she first woke up, even with Harry. She extended her arms out to him, a silent plea to be picked up and he obliged because how could he say no to this little cuddlebug? She nuzzled her little head into his neck and he walked them into the kitchen.

Stella was quite small for a four year old so she still sat in a high chair. Harry set her in, knowing she was big enough that he didn’t need to fasten the straps because she wasn’t really a jumpy child, and set a small bowl of mac n cheese with a baby fork on the tray in front of her. She said a quiet thank you just like her mommy taught her when someone does something nice for you and began eating.

Harry watched as she hummed little tunes to herself and ate her mac and cheese, not making too much of a mess.

“Hawwy?” She spoke up after finishing a bite of her food.

“Yes baby?”

“We have ice cweam please?” Harry laughed, seeing the little smirk on her face.

“Does mummy usually let you have ice cream?” He asked, knowing full well she would say yes no matter what the truth was. Just as he expected, she nodded her head feverishly with a big smile on her face. He pretended to think for a moment before agreeing that they could share a bowl of her favorite, double fudge brownie, once she finished her bowl of mac n cheese.

When she did finish, Harry wiped her hands and face off and swept her up into his arms. He set her on the counter, telling her not to move while he got the ice cream from the freezer and a bowl from the cupboard.

Standing next to the little girl sitting on the counter, swinging her legs back and forth and wiggling around with excitement, he scooped enough for the two of them to share and got out a spoon. Stella perched perfectly onto Harry’s hip and wrapped her little arms around his neck while he walked back over to the chair he had been sitting in while she ate her dinner. He settled her on his lap, spooning the sweet treat into both of their mouths so that she wouldn’t make a mess of herself. Ice cream is a little messier than mac and cheese. Stella didn’t make a big fuss even though when she asked nicely to feed herself, Harry said no.

Harry could see that Stella was still tired despite her nap from earlier as she rested herself back against his chest, her eyelids drooping shut every once and a while. She slowly began turning herself around until she sat facing his chest, little hands fisting his shirt and fell back to sleep on him. He chuckled lightly and finished the bowl of ice cream before standing up slowly and laying down on the couch with her sleeping on his chest. He threw the blanket on the back of the couch over them and closed his eyes, savoring the cuddles she had decided to share with him.

Harry’s eyes opened to the sound of Stella’s quiet cries. There she laid on his chest, still asleep but starting to stir around. He sat up, cradling her to his chest and rocking back and forth, smoothing hand up and down her back, trying to coax her out of her nightmare.

“S’ok baby. Wake up Stell.” He cooed into her ear, pushing her hair out of her face. Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open and she took a deep breath, lifting her head off of his chest.

“Hi baby.” He said with a smile, wiping the tears that had managed to escape down her rosy cheeks.

“Hawwy?” She mumbled, nuzzling into his neck, her fists clenching his shirt.

“I’m right here Petal, s’ok. You’re safe.” He whispered. She never talked about her dreams. He figured it was because she was a 4 year old and didn’t remember once she woke up. She just knew they were scary. Whatever it was, he made sure she knew he was there to protect her. That as long as she was with him, nothing could hurt her.

“Mommy home yet?” She asked, keeping her little head where it laid. Harry sighed, hoping his answer wouldn’t further upset the girl.

“Not yet m’love. She’ll be home later.” He reminded her. Stella didn’t say anything, just nodded her head.

Her eyes closed once more and she drifted back off to sleep.

A few hours later, Harry had dozed off again, Stella still cradled on his chest. Y/n quietly walked into the living room, seeing the two of them asleep on the couch.

This time she really did start crying because it was so cute, but also because she was happy that Stella finally had a father figure in her life. She tiptoed over to them, quickly snapping a picture before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Harry’s forehead. He stirred, opening his eyes to see his girlfriend hovering above him with a smile on her face.

“You promised wine!” She feigned a pout and Harry chuckled in his half conscious state, sitting up slowly while supporting Stella’s sleeping frame against his own.

“Sorry darling, I got a little wrapped up…” He smiled. Y/n returned it, leading them up to her room so they could lay her down and have some time to themselves before they turned into bed.

“Mommy?” Stella woke up when Harry laid her down.

“I’m here baby, go night night and I’ll see you in the morning ok?” The mother said, placing a kiss on her childs forehead and tucking her in.

“Hawwy?” She mumbled, causing Harry’s smile to reappear.

“I’m still here baby. See you in the morning, ok?” He asked, placing his own kiss on her forehead. She nodded, falling back to sleep and cuddling into her blanket.

“Did you two have fun?” Y/n asked quietly, cuddling into Harry as they sat on the couch, each with their own glass of wine.

“We had a lovely time. I’m surprised she fell asleep as quickly as she did because she convinced me to give her ice cream.” He chuckled. Y/n followed, imagining the puppy dog eyes her baby probably gave him to get her way.

“Of course she did!” Y/n set down her finished glass, “Sugar doesn’t really make her that crazy so that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Thank you for letting me watch her tonight. I think she’s more comfortable with me now!” Harry beamed, leaning in to kiss his girl since he hadn;t gotten the chance since she’d been home. She leaned into him, indulging herself in the kiss. A content hum resonated from her chest before she pulled away.

“Thank you for wanting to be a part of her life. You will never know how much that means to me!” Y/n pecked her boyfriend's lips a few more times before she suggested they turn in for the night.

Laying her head on his chest in bed, she took a deep breath, letting his cologne lull her to sleep and trying not to get too excited at the little family they were building.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles one shot #daddy? series #one direction #stepdad!harry #single mom reader #one direction one shot

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years ago

Text

Frisky for a Fight - Jamie Benn

Word Count: 3,250

POV: Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Language, Smut

Notes: So watching Jamie Benn fight the other night was just a turn on for me and I ended up writing a little something for it. I decided to use the reader from Ruined, hope you guys don’t care. As always I love to hear your feedback. Happy Reading!!!

(Also not my pic)

You didn’t see the exchange between Zadorov and Dellandrea, only the commentary from the announcers that the young pup had made a hit on the Blackhawk, and then words were exchanged. The television was always on in the training room for you to watch the game if, you weren't on the ramp. You’d been marking down a few things in your charts after taking care of a couple of the guys during intermission, which is why you missed Jamie drop the gloves when play resumed. As soon as you heard them say that, you picked your head up to see the exchange.

You had a love-hate relationship with Jamie fighting, always had. On the one hand, you hated it, because there was always this risk of him getting hurt. While on the other, you found it incredibly sexy. There was just something about seeing him all angry and fired up, that just did things to you, and this fight was definitely doing it to you now. Which was wrong, so wrong. Your panties she should not be getting wet at this moment, but the minute he threw that left uppercut right into Zadorv’s face, you felt your pussy clench.

The fight only last seconds, as the refs came in and broke it up rather quickly after that. You watched Jamie, skate over to the penalty box taking off his helmet, pushing his hair back once he got in, giving you a chance to see what the damage was to his face. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be any, but you wouldn’t be able to tell until the second intermission which was a while away. There was no point in making yourself suffer, so you headed up towards the bench to see if you could get a closer look without seeming to be hovering over him.

You stood there on the runway, leaning against the wall arms folded as you waited. Jamie saw you staring, could tell by your stance you weren’t pleased that he’d got into another fight, though it was the first of the shortened season. He knew he’d be in for an earful the second the period ended. You kept staring at him over there in that box, all the while Jamie was fretting. Not about dealing with Bones, he knew his coach wouldn’t give him too much hell, but you; you were a different story and the last person he wanted to displease.

When they finally released him and he skated over to the bench to the sound of sticks taping once again cheering him on, you were able to assess the damage. He looked good, nothing seemed to be bruising or swelling, though he should probably get some ice on those knuckles; just for preventative measures. Jamie's eyes darted around to all his teammates before they laid square on you. His signature puppy dog's eyes coming out to tell you he was sorry. You simply shook your head and made your way back to the training room.

Bones talked to guys briefly after the second period before you went in. “So how bad are you?” you asked, grabbing his hands to see the damage. There were a few scraps but nothing that was bleeding or needing attention.

“I’m fine.” He snipped back, earning a disapproving glare from you. He could fight all he wanted with them, but he would not be picking one with you.

“I can see that,” you retorted. “Put some ice on those before they swell.” The guys went about their usual intermission break, making changes here and there with plays, and pointing out weaknesses they could try and capitalize on. All while guzzling Gatorade and something to give them a bit more energy in the third. Everyone started to filter back to the bench as the reprieve was over while Jamie lingered behind.

“Sorry I was snippy before. I just thought you were going to yell at me for fighting.”

“As long as you’re not hurt. I have no need to yell.” You shrugged off the matter, not wanting to get into how the whole thing actually made you dripping wet. He turned to head back down the ramp and out to the bench, a sulking look on his face as if he didn't believe that you were mad at him. "Jame," you yelled out, making sure there weren't too many prying eyes around before you grabbed him and kissed him hard on the mouth. "I'm not encouraging you to fight again, but I was very turned on by that punch to Zadorov's face." You couldn't let him go back out on the ice in a brooding mood, or he'd definitely be dropping the gloves in the third.

"Really?" His eyes perked up, and there was a distinct sparkle to them. One that you'd seen many times as before right before he ripped your clothes off, though that wouldn't be happening here.

"Yes, but if you do it again; you won’t be finding out exactly how wet I am,” you whispered, before swatting at his padded ass. “Now get back out there, captain.” The smile on his face told you, that you didn’t need to worry about him fighting the rest of the game, as he made his way back onto the ice; a little more pep in his step than before.

For the rest of the game, Jamie seemed to behave himself. There might have been an unnecessary check here and quite possibly a shove that wasn’t needed there, but at least his fists weren’t flying into anyone’s face. The game didn’t end how they hoped, as the Stars fell to Chicago. After a few words from coach, some of the guys, including Jamie, headed over to do media. You saw him roll his eyes at having to sit through what he considered the worst form of torture. It was even more so that, now that he knew how turned on you were after his fight. He was definitely distracted as the reporters fired off a few questions, little did they know where his mind actually was.

You finished cleaning up the training room, letting the athletic trainers go early as you waited for Jamie to finish up. He was just finishing buttoning up his shirt when you walked into the locker room. He spied you and his hands immediately stopped, leaving a good four buttons hanging undone. “So you found that little fight sexy, eh?”

There was no one else in the locker room as everyone else had left. So, you were free to saunter up to him and slide your hands up his torso until you could feel his exposed chest. “I’ll admit it was kind of hot.”

“Just kind of?” He grabbed your waist, pressing your body intimately to his where you could feel his erection.

“Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out.” His eyebrows lifted at your suggestion, while his hands roamed down the cheeks of your ass, gathering the fabric of your skirt as he went. It was nothing new for the two of you to get a little frisky when no one else was around. Jamie admitting once that he always wanted to have sex on his locker stall, was all it took to make that fantasy a reality, and while it didn’t happen often, it had happened a couple of times.

His hands worked the globes of your ass, the cool air hitting them as he hiked your skirt up to your waist. Fingers shifting, you felt him move to your core, where you knew he’d find your panties moist. “Fuck baby, have you been this wet since the second?”

“Uh huh,” you moaned before kissing him hard. To your surprise, Jamie moved his hand away and started shimming your skirt back down your lips. “Aren't we…” He didn’t let you finish, just grabbed your hand and headed out of the locker room. You knew you weren’t headed to the car, as he left his jacket hanging. “Where are we going?”

“I’m feeling frisky tonight.”

“I gathered that when you dropped the gloves.” He rolled his eyes as he looked back at you.

When he headed up the ramp that led to the bench, you pulled back on his hand. “Everyone’s gone.” He told you, and while you knew that all of the players and coaches weren’t there, there were still people that worked in the arena milling about. “Come on babe, trust me. Unless you just want to wait until we’re home?” His free hand, snuck between your thighs, letting his fingers dance along your folds.

You moaned in frustration. There wasn’t really a choice here. “No, I don’t.” The minutes the words were out of your mouth, he had your feet moving again. The arena was dark, except for the emergency lighting that dimly lit up the place. Shockingly, he opened the door to the ice though and stepped out onto it.

He picked you up and carried you across to the penalty box before you could even ask where you were going. “I couldn’t stop thinking about taking you here all third period. I’d like to say overtime too, but I was trying to concentrate on the game then.” You laughed, the sound echoing through the building, which made you immediately quiet again. “Thought we could actually do some sinning in this bin.”

He set you down inside the box first before coming behind you and closing the door. The wicked gleam in his eye matched the smirk on your face and the next thing you knew he was shoving you up against the glass, his mouth hot and heavy on yours. Your hands scrambled to undo his shirttails, while he shoved your jacket off your shoulders. His mouth was everywhere, on your lips and on your neck as they made their way down to your breasts. Jamie sucked on a perk nipple through the fabric of your blouse; your back arching into him.

You were so lost in the sensation of his lips that you didn’t realize the loud moan that escaped you. “Shh,” Jamie hushed before capturing your lips with his. Regaining some of your senses, you quickly undid his belt buckle, before sliding the zipper of his pants down. If you were going to do this you might as well, live out a little fantasy of your own. You pushed back on Jamie’s chest, causing him to pull back in question.

“Since we’re sinning. There’s a little something I’ve always wanted to do to you here.” Pushing both his pants and boxers down to his knees, you backed him up to the bench, where he sat only hours ago for fighting. As you stared over at him earlier your mind had wanted to do one thing and now you had the opportunity. He sat down hard with just a simple push of your hand. His legs spreading immediately, as you sunk down to your knees. You wasted no time, letting your hand drift up his thighs, before guiding his cock into your mouth.

Jamie hissed out his pleasure. His hand threading through your hair as you sunk down on him. “Fuck baby, that feels so good.” You heard his head hit the back of the glass, as he hit the back of your throat. You worked the length of him in and out of your mouth. Part of you wished that the camera that was there was on, recording this. You wanted to see Jamie caught up in ecstasy as you worked your magic on him, but that would have to be for another time. He gathered your locks into a loose ponytail so he could watch you bob up and down on his cock. “Jesus, you look so beautiful.” They were whispered words of praise that went straight to your core.

When you hollowed out your cheeks, his head fell back once again against the plexiglass. It was then that you picked up speed and added a little hum. The vibrations sending Jamie almost spiraling to the point of no return, but he held it together even though his hips lifted off the bench. He was close. You could feel it in the way that his balls tightened under your touch and the way he seemed to almost let go completely. He held on by a small single thread and you knew it was because he didn’t want to spend in your mouth. He wanted to be buried deep inside your pussy when he finally came.

There was both disappointment and relief in his eyes as you released him with a pop; saliva and precum dripping from your mouth. He lifted you off the ground, then brought your mouth to his in a soul-searing kiss. “Fuck baby, you’re so good to me.” His hands worked the fabric of your skirt again, the cold of the ice making you shiver. Jamie hooked his fingers in the strings of your panties and ripped them off your body. You wanted to chide him for being so careless with the lace garment but that sheer animal magnetism of the action drew you to him even more.

You straddled him. Legs on both sides of his hips, as you slowly guided his member to your pussy. The feel of him deep inside you was like no other. It was like coming home and yet something new every single time. You’d been wanting this for the last couple of hours and now here you both were, though you hadn’t imagined it quite like this. Slowly, you swiveled your hips, making both you and Jamie hiss out in pleasure. You began to ride building up a rhythm that you both loved.

Jamie took hold of your hips, helping to steady you as you moved. Vaguely, you realized you pressed a hand to the glass behind Jamie and wondered if the imprint would still be there the next game. Would anyone realized that it wasn’t just someone trying to bang on the glass, but instead it was you being carried away in pure bliss as you rode their captain. Jamie brought you back to reality as he slid the v-neck blouse you wore off one shoulder so he could play with your breast. “I just want to rip this off you.”

“Do it,” you hissed out, knowing that he’d buy you dozens more to replace it. It was harder to tear than the panties but then Jamie was a man on a mission, just like he was earlier. His hands tore at the fabric the same ones that had punched Zadorov only hours ago. Now they were gentler, as they cupped your breast, tweaking and playing with the nipple. You threw your head back, only to have his mouth replace his fingers. He sucked on the turret peak then gently bit down. Your hips shot up, as a rush of wetness flooded Jamie’s cock buried inside you.

Suddenly, Jamie’s hands were on your ass and in one fluid motion he lifted you both up. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist as your back was pressed against the plexiglass; your heels digging into his ass but he enjoyed the bite. You clung to Jamie as he began to pound his cock into you. Foreheads pressed together, all that could be heard in the arena was the two of you panting as you sought that high you both craved. “Come on baby…” Jamie breathed out. “Cum for me.”

He was holding out, waiting for you and with a shift of his hips, he hit that sweet spot and sent you over the plateau. A silent scream was all that you let out as pleasure coursed through your veins. Jamie tucked his head into your neck, as he thrust a few more times before finding his own release. He held you up against the glass for a minute as your breathing calmed. “Can you stand?”

“I think so.” You’d forgotten about your heels until he set you down on them, but Jamie’s hands lingered on your hips to steady you. Once you regained your balance, you shimmied your skirt back down, while Jamie righted himself as well. “Where are my panties?” you whispered, only the receive a smirk from Jamie. The dim lighting wasn’t really conducive to finding your clothing, which even if it was ripped you still wanted.

Jamie lightly chuckled before he said, “We could always leave them for someone to find.”

“Jamie!” It was a little louder than you intended but you’d be totally mortified if someone on the team found them laying there.

“Is someone out there?” a voice called out shocking you.

“It’s just me Bill,” Jamie yelled to one of the custodians. “I was looking for my mouthguard.” You looked at Jamie questioningly and he just shrugged, as if it was the best he could think of on short notice. When you looked down embarrassed that you’d been caught, you finally saw your torn panties under Jamie’s foot. You shot down and snatched the garment up and shoved it in Jamie’s pocket. “Found it,” he yelled out to Bill. “I’ll be out of here shortly.”

“No problem Cap.” You heard Bill start to leave only to stop short and turn back around. “Hell of fight tonight, Cap. Hope we get to see some more like that this season. It seems to gets everyone riled up.”

“It sure does,” Jamie yelled back at Bill while grabbing your ass at the same time. “It sure does,” he repeated only this time quieter so only you would hear.

“Don’t even think that this is going to be a little habit, Benn.”

“Aww, come on baby. You have to admit it was fun. I don’t think I’ll ever sit in this box again without having a little smile on my face.”

“Well don’t think that this is some kind of reward for fighting because let me tell you; the first time I’m stitching you up because someone planted a facer on you, I already have your punishment in mind and it won't be anything like this.” You opened the door to the penalty box and waited for Jamie to step out and carry you since you had heels on. Which he did of course.

“What kind of punishment.” He queried as you made your way across the ice.

"That’s for me to know and for you to hopefully not find out.”

“This isn’t going to be like when you tried to get me to stop chewing snuff is it?”

“It worked, didn’t it. You don’t chew that shit anymore.”

“No, because if I did you wouldn’t let me near you.” It was true, every time Jamie chewed snuff you made it a point that sex, including kissing and whatnot was off the table, at least until he brushed, flossed, and rinsed with mouthwash. You weren’t sure what Jamie’s punishment was going to be for fighting yet but it would definitely run along those lines. “What happens if they all end up like this?”

Hmm, well that might be an entirely different story, as you were still ready to continue what you started in the sin bin. “Hmmm, I guess we will have to see if it’s still a turn on when it happens again.”

Jamie came up and grabbed your waist hauling you against him. “I’m more interested if you’re still turned on now.”

“Take me home and let’s find out.”

#Jamie Benn #Jamie Benn Imagine #Jamie Benn Imagines #Jamie Benn Smut #NHL imagine #NHL imagines #NHL Smut #nhl fanfic #hockey smut #hocky fanfic #hockey imagine #hockey imagines

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ginjointsintheworld · 2 years ago

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I'm trying to get into Leyla's head, seeing as the writers are allergic to diving deep. Beware, These are ramblings😩

When Leyla moved in with Lauren and their relationship got going, I wonder if then Leyla thought about the imbalance of the r/ship or if she thought it was transactional in any way or if she actually thought of the power imbalance, but her deep need and desire to be able to have a place to rest and study with no worries overshadowed that. I mean she did say "I went along with it, and that's on me". (she still needs to take back that "you tried to own me. You bought me" 😒)

When she became a resident again, while she did have hesitation about how it would look sleeping with the boss, was that (Lauren being her boss) less of a problem or no problem at all because they were able to create clear boundaries and were just deeply in love so the power imbalance was insignificant or never came to mind? Or because she started paying rent then all was forgotten?

We have seen from Leyla over thinking a simple cup of coffee from a lover for that matter,- something Lauren didn't think twice about and honestly no one would - that perhaps Lauren going behind her back and breaking her trust that one time is still not even the cause of this mentality . And it makes it all the more frustrating. Colleagues buy each other coffee ever so often because it's just want colleagues do without anyone thinking they have to pay back in some way. that Leyla for a minute was hesitant is equally sad and disturbing.

What and who can deliver Leyla? She wants to be with Lauren, loves her alot, is in love with her, knows that Lauren is sorry and isn't giving all this help just so she can keep her in her arms , and yet this monkey won't just get off her back.

We can sit here and say when she finishes paying her debt and the immigration woes are over, they will be even but that's not true. Lauren will always be wealthy, and Leyla will never be able to match Lauren's salary plus her wealth, and then what? The love will be enough? Will she keep thinking that she can't match up when her gf spoils her silly? Will it then become a silent one sided competition of who can out-gift the other?

Again, who or what will deliver Leyla?

This is not lashing out on Leyla, just intrigued, amused and a tad bit frustrated lol

Thank you for allowing me ramble. Okay bye.

you know my askbox is always to open to all ramblings!

the way i personally look at it and the measuring stick i use to gauge any potential power imbalance is, was leyla able and knew she was able to exit the relationship whenever was wanted? was there any pressure for her to change/alter her behavior out of fear of something or someone? i think in their situation pre-visa, i could whole heartedly say that yes, leyla could've left whenever she wanted and she was always her most authentic self. for example post first kiss when leyla thought that she had misread the signals and kissed lauren. she was ultimately ready to pack up and leave had lauren not come home and found her first. then when they broke up, leyla did leave. but this time leyla has much more at stake and if she did anything to get her visa appeal denied, she'd be deported. that's beyond another level of threat to her safety. where as before she'd maybe go back to living in her car worse case scenario, maybe crash with a friend or coworker, hell even temporarily stay in a hotel. leyla, right now, is fighting for her life. that's what i'm interpreting (though it'd be nice if we could get some more detailed backstory to confirm ahem) that visa situation as. she's fighting for her literal life because i don't think she would've willingly left her family, career, behind to come to a country starting over personally and professional, on a refugee visa if there wasn't present danger back home.

but when it comes to the authority and dynamic between them... i don't know i just never saw any reason to believe or think that they didn't view each other as equals. personally, we've seen multiple times that lol lauren does not hold any authority or power over leyla. poor woman shuffled home and tried to break up with her once and got told no. when they first lived together, leyla even clarified it, she viewed them as roommates. they shared and took care of that space together and both contributed to it to make it a home. professionally, even if we look beyond that fact that lauren holds the utmost respect for leyla as a doctor, they could've disclosed their relationship to HR (most likely did given how they were openly showing affection around the hospital and lauren announced it to everyone lmao). how is it any different than max dating helen when they both worked at NA? or even during their weird in between will they won't they time? he's the medical director. there's no power greater than him aside from the board. plus, yes, lauren and leyla made very conscious efforts to establish boundaries for when they're dr. bloom and dr. shinwari during work and lauren and leyla outside of it.

the money side of things.... sometimes i feel like that gets misinterpreted with regards to what leyla's struggle is with that. don't get me wrong, part of that is because of the writers being unclear at times. but overall, i think it boils down to leyla having complex and very deep rooted mentalities with success needing to be accomplished through your own grit to be worthy. because if we look at all the times that leyla has brought up money or material things, it's been in association with the perception of earning the situation she's currently in, "i won't let you pay for me to stay somewhere. i'm not a charity case," "now all these fancy things, you. make me feel like that's the reason i'm successful. like i didn't earn it" and "but the one thing i thought i earned was just paid for like everything else." leyla didn't have a problem when she thought lauren was going to use her money to buy textbooks and new equipment for the other residents. it was only when the residents spun their little sob story and she thought it gave her an "unfair" advantage over everyone else. also no offense to the bloom family wealthy but the occasional uber black ride to work, food, clothes, an ipad, those are all very normal affordable things that a doctor and chair of a department could afford. it's canon that lauren is one of the top paid doctors at NA. and leyla very well could be chair of a department one day and make the same kind of money. where lauren's wealth played an actual factor was making the donation, which she's knows was a massive mistake, and the lawyer fees. also when leyla brought up the food and clothes before, she owned that discomfort that came from that because she didn't voice to lauren that she didn't need her to buy these things and i think she knows if lauren knew how it made leyla felt, she would've backed off. when she mentioned that, it was likely more referring to the earlier days when she wasn't a resident yet. cause leyla was okay with the ride to work and lauren brought leyla a bagel and coffee when they were working opposite shifts. she didn't have a problem with those things then and i would say it was because she was making legitimate money as a resident, settled and happy in her career and yeah coffee then was just a coffee. and leyla probably bought lauren a coffee and her favorite pastry on occasions because that's just a thing you do. just like leyla probably took lauren to romantic dinners and paid for those.

but i've mentioned it before, i didn't view the coffee situation as being just about the coffee. like lauren said, it's that the overthinking with the coffee was a symptom of their current complex situation with the visa. leyla is borrowing $10k/month from lauren for a currently unknown amount of time. that's an insane burn rate and leyla is trying to pay back what she can as they go along because she knows it. like if this case takes a year to resolve, that's $130k which is more than the donation lauren paid for leyla's residency spot. yes, lauren is rich and that money in the grand scheme of things isn't a blip for her and that is an amount leyla can pay back. hell people borrow that much money for medical school. but it's the principle of lauren being willing to lend that much, combine that with the fact that she's also opened up her apartment to leyla again when she needed a stable address and her previous concern about lauren feeling like her feelings are being taken advantage of. i can understand why leyla would start to get caught up in wondering how much is taking too much? even with something as small as a coffee, even if the limit does not exist to lauren, it matters to leyla.

and of course, as you and i both acknowledged before, this is tv so there's always going to be a melodramatic element that in reality would be simpler to work out lol. but anyways, always fun to read your thoughts and hope you didn't mind my word soup reply LOL

#teevibess #asks

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moonbaby26 · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Aftermath

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation of previous chapter. Set after the battle with Apocalypse, you and the others are finally picked up from Cairo by allied forces and transported to a nearby aircraft carrier for temporary shelter/debriefing while you try to arrange travel back into the U.S. The reader helps Peter work through the continued emotional fallout from realizations of all that his father Magneto has done.

Warnings: Some cursing. More emotional baggage being unloaded. But also fluff/comfort, and eventual brief makeout session to help with the stress relief.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

——————————

Like Magneto had warned, it’d still been a long time before anyone had come to help. Trying to put back together some semblance of working communication equipment from the remnants of the jet, and whatever they could scavenge from the damaged homes and buildings all around had taken Hank and Moira long enough.

But even when Moira could finally establish renewed contact with the outside world to put out a distress call, finding a U.S. ally willing and even capable to fly into ground zero to pluck all of you out was another matter.

Unfortunately, you had eventually realized that the destruction here in Cairo hadn’t been all there was. Most population centers through the world had been impacted, many of the larger air and naval bases among them. It was hard to say how much had been Apocalypse, and how many had fallen solely because of Magneto though. From the little bit Moira did relay back to you all, the more metal any structure had had in it, the more likely it had ended up decimated.

It was only helicopters that finally came, no runway area available in all the rubble for any larger plane. When the soldiers exited them, you picked up that they were all speaking Greek.

“We’ll all be going to the island of Crete.” Xavier had confirmed, meeting with you all before boarding. “There is an allied naval base there, where U.S. officials will be awaiting to debrief us.”

It was no surprise that he could sense the unease in the majority of you, after all that had occurred the last time you’d been forced into helicopters with men dressed in military fatigues like this.

He had changed then to communicating telepathically with each of you individually, to give the soldiers no chance to overhear. Though the message was the same for everyone. “We will all be split onto only two helicopters. I will be in one, and Jean in the other. If they should even think of anything unsavory, we will, let’s say alter their plans to otherwise. But everyone stay at least paired please as precaution. Together, you are all your own best protection.”

It’d been no question that you would board with Peter. On one helicopter it would end up being the Professor, Moira, Peter, yourself, and the white haired girl you now knew as Ororo Munroe. On the other, Hank, Raven, Jean, Scott, and Kurt.

Ororo had actually been rather nice to talk to, once she was no longer trying to blast you out of the sky anyway. You’d learned she’d been living on the streets of Cairo for quite some time, just stealing to survive before she’d run into Apocalypse by chance when he was first trying to recruit powerful mutants.

When she’d spoken about having no living family, and thereby no desire to stick around in Egypt any longer, Kurt had been the one to excitedly tell her all about the school. Which the Professor had already vowed to rebuild thankfully, inviting Ororo immediately should she wish to join you all.

Gladly, she accepted, and by the time the soldiers were sliding the helicopter doors closed, the sun was finally setting. The interior lighting was already dim, as you glanced over to Peter in the growing darkness, seated together on bench like seats along the inner hull. He’d been waiting until the very last moment you thought to see if Erik would come back, but he never did. Though you couldn’t imagine Magneto ever would have agreed to travel like this. Or that the Greek airmen would have even allowed it, still knowing he was wanted worldwide.

You did believe Xavier though. When the dust finally settled, you thought Erik would be back. He’d find his own way home. And to contact Peter again, he’d only have to reach out to the Professor. Which of course Erik would no doubt, as those two old friends always crossed paths again eventually from all the stories you had heard. They never gave up on each other in the end, despite all their differences in beliefs.

You didn’t fight it when you finally began to nod off. Even over the pulsing of the helicopter and the radio chatter coming from the soldiers’ headsets, it was all just white noise eventually. Peter had his arm around your waist, his head leaned back against the hull and yours on his shoulder as you’d both fallen asleep somewhere over the now moonlit Mediterranean Sea.

——————————

Waking up had been much harder. As stiff as you were from the helicopter ride, you still had been in no hurry to move as you’d heard your name called. Xavier was trying to round you all up before the soldiers got impatient.

They’d at least provided him a wheelchair you noticed as you all groggily reconvened on what was actually the flight deck of a large U.S. aircraft carrier now docked in the bay alongside the Greek naval base.

All of you certainly looked worse for wear, Peter especially had his glasses skewed almost comically now, hair mussed in about every direction as he yawned big, standing on one leg with an arm thrown over your shoulders for support.

Once you were all accounted for on deck, the Professor spoke quickly. “Given the state of things, there will not be any transatlantic flights available currently. We will be staying here in the short term. For all of you, you will be given medical treatment as needed in this ship’s sick bay. We have also been provided sleeping arrangements separate of the crew. I am asking all of you to please rest up as best you can tonight. Moira and I will speak to these gentlemen as to the events that have transpired today.”

The “gentlemen” Xavier referred to looked about as pleased to be here as you all had been to wake up in Stryker’s base. You knew little of actual military rankings, but from the amount of bars on the fronts of their uniforms, you’d guess they were pretty high up there in authority.

But the Professor only continued in your heads for good measure. “Please understand that non-mutants especially are on edge right now. There were fatalities and very extensive damages to some cities today. I implore you all to be patient with any persons you may encounter on this ship. I believe they’ve moved the majority of the crew to the mainland already to better quarantine us here and limit tensions. But please remember, that by your demeanor and your choices, you represent us all. I will reach out to you all as soon as I know anything more on our options for returning home.”

He’d bid you all good night then, leaving with Moira and the most senior looking of the men while the rest of you had followed some nervous looking officers to the lower decks. You got the sense that Hank and Raven now felt obligated to chaperone and protect the group, as the oldest of you now, only second to the Professor.

Raven had assumed her blonde, human appearance before the helicopters had arrived, but without his medicine Hank could only remain in his Beast form. You could tell how uncomfortable both he and Kurt now made the soldiers as Hank had requested to accompany you and Peter to the sick bay, while Raven went with the others to whatever living quarters you were being given.

You’d be lying to say that their obvious judgment on Hank and Kurt’s physical appearances didn’t bother you. But you tried to remind yourself that they also didn’t know any better. They didn’t know how ridiculously smart, and even a bit nerdy and loyal Hank could be. Or how kind, forgiving, and genuine Kurt was.

When you did get to the sick bay, the doctor on call also looked like he’d just been dragged in there against his better judgement. But he did greet you all, saying he’d been made aware that there was a broken leg he needed to set and make a cast for.

His reaction to the metal splint Peter already had though was almost something funny. You knew Peter wanted to joke so badly about his “dad making it for him”, but you’d all agreed before the helicopters had arrived to downplay Erik’s role in all of this if he didn’t show himself.

Xavier had promised to make clear to the U.S. officials that Erik had been on your side in the end though. Yes, Magneto had blood on his hands from past and present, but having the world pursue him any further would only lead to more violence. It wouldn’t undo anything that had already been done.

Beast had been strong enough to unbend the metal with his bare hands, carefully removing the splint. He’d also helped Peter get out of the flight suit and dirtied clothing to wash up. Though they’d just cut his clothing away from his broken leg with surgical shears, not to injure it any further.

They’d put a screen up for some privacy while they worked on him. You knew Hank would protect Peter, so you were okay focusing on yourself a bit as you also got undressed and a nurse checked you for broken bones. With your clothes off, you finally got to see how badly bruised you were everywhere. But they’d agreed that your only actually damaged bones were cracked ribs, which there was no real treatment for save going easy to give them proper time to heal.

After the examination, you were allowed to take a shower. Which was honestly more amazing than you expected, not realizing just how much dirt, sweat, and blood had accumulated through all of this. Afterward, you’d gotten dressed with some clothes they’d left you. A plain white t-shirt with a small U.S. Navy insignia, and dark blue sweatpants essentially.

They’d offered to escort you to where the others were bunked. But you declined, choosing to wait for Hank and Peter instead.

And it had been a while, but eventually they cane back out. You could see they’d gotten the same treatment as you while here. Both had showered, though Peter made a point to laugh at how poor Hank had had to help him essentially get a trash bag tied over his leg cast first so he wouldn’t get it wet.

They had on the same white t-shirts as you as well now. Though even in the largest size, Hank’s looked uncomfortably small. Hank also got the same blue pants as you, but for Peter it was only blue shorts to accommodate his cast. You all looked like you were late for P.E. class honestly, albeit maybe at a U.S. Naval academy somewhere. You’d gotten a good deal of amusement from that.

They’d given Peter crutches too, which he was clearly playing with as he tried to see how quick he could move on them. Hank reprimanded him more than once when Peter had almost fallen flat on his face a few times on your way to the bunks.

The soldiers hadn’t separated you into guys and girls for the sleeping arrangements. Probably because to them the separation was more mutant/non-mutant only in all reality. But it didn’t bother you any. Really you felt safer knowing everyone else was close. By the time you had gotten to the bunks though, it was already lights out and Raven was the only one still awake waiting for you three.

“Sleep where you want,” She said, motioning to all the still empty beds. It looked like this block was meant to house a lot more than just your small number, but had evidently been cleared out for your arrival. Still being on a ship though where space was at a premium and the beds were double stacked and inset into the walls, it would be sleeping like books on a shelf.

You’d walked down a ways past your sleeping friends to find some open ones. Naturally you started to climb into the top bunk, knowing Peter would need the bottom with his cast in the way.

But you didn’t even have both legs pulled in before he startled you by grabbing your ankle. “What?” You breathed in a whisper, not wishing to wake the others as you tried to look down at him in the dark. With the main lights off, there was only the faintest glow from small emergency type lights sparsely spaced along the walls.

Mostly you could just see the white of his teeth, knowing he was grinning back at you. In this moment it reminded you only of the Cheshire cat, mischievous and a little disconcerting.

“There’s room down here, goofball,” He whispered back.

“Peter,” You answered, the tone saying far more than the short response. You weren’t alone here, and it, well it just didn’t seem proper. With the immediate threat of death now finally passed (hopefully), it really felt more like being back at school for the moment. There were standards of behavior and-

“If one of Hank can fit in these, then two of us definitely will.” He was clearly unfazed by your sudden reservations, though seemed to realize the cause pretty quickly. “Raven doesn’t care. Where do you think Scott and Jean ended up? You didn’t even notice did you?”

You could hear the bit of amusement in his voice. But no, you didn’t count heads as you were walking by. Why would you? If Scott and Jean had made it into the same bunk already, it wasn’t your business.

Which, yes, admittedly if you felt that way, would the others be as okay with it for you and Peter? He’d rightly guessed that it was more the fear of being judged that made you hesitate, than actually being uncomfortable sleeping beside him. You’d already slept side by side in the helicopter on the way here after all, but that wasn’t quite the same as being in the same bed.

“Still waiting,” He reminded, squeezing your ankle lightly.

You knew if you actually said no, he would drop it. It was only your indecision that he was waiting for you to resolve. But, how often would you have this chance again? Thinking of it in those terms, you relented at last, climbing back down.

You could still see his smile in the dark, no doubt excited over the small victory as he scooted back as much as he could to allow you in.

Trying to get into a comfortable position was a little awkward at first, especially with his cast. But you eventually ended up both laying on your sides, your back against his chest as he wrapped an arm around you under your shared blanket.

You were quickly learning how much he seemed to be comforted by physical contact. It wasn’t long at all before his breathing steadied out and you realized he was fast asleep, his head nuzzled into the back of your neck.

The feeling was warm and pleasant though. Yourself following suit not long after, sleeping deeply at last for a long deserved rest.

——————————

When morning finally came, there was no real way to know it. There were no windows to let in the daylight. By the time you’d woken to hear the others’ voices and the fluorescent lighting buzzing back on when one of them hit the switch, you’d learned it was actually almost noon local time.

Which none of you were complaining about. But you were hungry now. Sleep had been the primary physical need beforehand, and with that now met, you needed some more calories to burn.

Peter especially. You could actually hear his stomach growling as you’d all gotten up and headed into the common bathroom to brush teeth, brush hair and the like with the standard toiletries they’d left in there for everyone.

“Yeah, I’m like a hummingbird basically,” He’d explained nonchalantly on your walk to the mess hall afterward. “I just haven’t fallen out yet here because I haven’t gotten to run since dickhead busted my leg. But normally yeah, high octane all the time to keep things going. My blood sugar tanks if I don’t keep snacking at least. Twinkies are a personal fave in the old survival kit.”

“Those are good,” Kurt agreed. “I like the little pies too,” He gestured a circle shape with his hands, “With the little...the dried purple fruit, what are those in English?”

“Raisins, my bro.” Peter responded. “Old raisin creme pie. I swap back and forth on those. Oatmeal pies are alright too, but you know where it’s really at is zebra cakes, man.”

“Zebra...cake?” Clearly Kurt was trying to envision in his head how a zebra would have anything to do with the naming of a cake.

“It’s got white icing with brown stripes,” You answered. You weren’t super into junk food, but you did grow up in the U.S., so a lot of this knowledge was entirely unavoidable.

“But zebras have black stripes?” Kurt replied with some bit of bemusement.

“I don’t think Little Debbie or Hostess are too concerned with accurate representations of wildlife.” Raven chimed in, halfway amused at the randomness of the topics you all came up with, but still looking quite unimpressed.

“They do have brown stripes when they’re juveniles, before they get their adult coat.” Hank corrected though, glancing down at her.

“So they should be called baby zebra cakes. Got it.” Scott finally piped up, though also clearly thinking this ridiculous.

Raven and Jean just exchanged a look of their own as Ororo glanced to you. “Is it always like this?”

“Pretty much,” You answered with a slight smile. It was good to see Peter meshing in so well with the others though, even if he was a little bit older. You hoped that whenever the school was rebuilt that he’d consider staying. Xavier always seemed to be able to make room for any young mutant willing to learn and also work as a mentor to the even younger kids.

You were all still chatting lightly as your group walked through the mess hall doors. But after being just the few of you for so many hours, it was a bit of a shock to see several tables worth of sailors look up at your sudden intrusion.

It was clear by the amount of still empty tables though, that this wasn’t near the normal occupancy rate. You remembered the Professor commenting that he thought a lot of the men had been forced to disembark to the mainland, just to make a larger bubble for you all.

And by all the expressions on the faces of those that were left, it seemed that most disagreed whole heartedly with that decision.

Your group quieted immediately, everyone picking up on those stares and the bit of whispering as you got in line together. The mess hall was set up cafeteria style, so you had to grab trays and slide them along, picking what you wanted as the kitchen staff would spoon out or serve whatever it was you’d chosen onto your tray.

“Maybe we should just take the food back to the barracks?” Kurt asked quietly, looking down with an evident bit of anxiety building.

“It’s okay,” Raven answered, “Just keep your head up. We won’t be long.”

You were conflicted though. You shouldn’t have to eat, segregated out of everyone else’s sight like some sort of criminals, just because your presence might offend someone. But then again, what purpose did it serve in the larger scheme of things if you antagonized these sailors into an avoidable confrontation right now?

As the Professor had said, tensions were already high. Throwing any spark into that powder keg couldn’t possibly end well.

Hank had volunteered to carry Peter’s tray for him, as Peter needed both hands to work his crutches. You were glad for that at least as you could only envision yourself dropping it all in spectacular fashion. Especially when Peter insisted on a triple portion of some kind of strawberry cake desert they’d had.

“I think we should go back to the bunks,” Jean spoke up though when you were all about to walk away from the line with your trays and drinks. “There’s one of them, he’s about to go off.”

You all paused, looking to Raven and Hank simultaneously, seemingly all deciding without speaking that they’d become the de facto leadership in the Professor’s absence.

“Fine,” Raven relented, obviously not wanting to roll over in this situation, but also remembering all you’d already been through recently. Just getting to eat in peace should be a reasonable thing to want.

But even turning the other cheek, didn’t seem to be enough.

“Hey!” One of the sailors called out before you could get close enough to the door.

“Keep walking.” Raven just directed.

“Do you even know what the rest of the world looks like right now!?” He kept on, standing up as his voice only grew louder. “My Mom and my little brother were in San Francisco. Their goddamn apartment building collapsed!”

Peter was the first one to stop, looking back then.

You could hear the tone in the man’s voice change though, and in that moment you knew he was not going to attack anyone. But it almost made it worse that he didn’t as his voice broke, nearly pleading to you all. “I don’t even know if they’re alive, if they made it out or not. The phones won’t work...no one can get through.”

“We didn’t do that,” Raven spoke up as calmly as she could, looking back to him as well then. “I’m sorry.”

“But you know who did, don’t you!?” He countered. “It was him. Wasn’t it? The one from Washington D.C. that could move metal. And he got away. You let him get away!”

The men next to the sailor were trying to pull him back down to sitting now, trying to remind him something about orders, making you realize they must have been given a similar talk as you all had. Don’t cause trouble, don’t antagonize, keep the peace because you’d been told to.

Even with two food trays in hand, Hank was now trying to usher you all through the mess hall doors just as intently as the man’s friends were trying to make him stop as well.

But Peter just twisted right out of Hank’s reach in a blur, calling back suddenly then. “It was Magneto. I’m sure it was. But he’s gone, man. He ran.” Peter looked pained, but shook his head. “His family was killed...but that doesn’t mean he had any right to take it out on the world. I hope you find your family. I really do, and I’m sorry.”

With that Peter shoved through the doors, going on ahead of you all and not looking back. His frustration was palpable as the crutches limited him. If his leg hadn’t been broken you doubted any of you would have seen him leave at all. Like he too wanted to run away now, instead of having to face the painful reality that this was.

——————————

Nothing was said about the incident for quite some time as you’d all eaten quietly in the barracks. The food was plain, the simple kinds of things that could be made in bulk to feed a large crew on a ship like this. Macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, rice, and the like.

You were sitting on the floor eating while Peter was sitting on his bottom bunk, now just picking at the strawberry cake he’d most wanted with a fork. “This was definitely some pre-made frozen crap they just defrosted and put whip cream on.” He commented in dry disappointment.

“Yeah, I guess it’d be hard to keep fresh strawberries for long on a boat,” You replied, sipping one of the soft drinks you’d brought back. At least these were canned to still be carbonated well, but it wasn’t all that cold anymore.

He smirked. “I’d go crazy living on this thing out at sea. Not too many steps up from a prison cell really.”

Though you could imagine submarine life would be even worse, you didn’t think he was far off base. “It takes a special kind of person to enlist that’s for sure.”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed, going back to silence for a while as he dissected the cake idly.

You’d about finished all your food before he spoke to you again.

“What do you really think of him, (Y/N)?” Peter asked you in a somber tone then. “I mean, am I an idiot for trying to get to know him? My whole life I thought about what it would have been like if we’d had a real dad. If it wasn’t just Mom stressed the hell out all the time trying to keep us from getting evicted, or me from getting arrested honestly, or her worrying about Wanda being depressed so much. It’s like we were always broken. I had this idea if we’d just had that missing piece of a father, that everything would have been fixed. But then I finally meet him, finally find out who he really is, and he’s just as fucked up as anyone.”

You moved your tray to the side, considering your words carefully as you got up to go sit beside Peter on the edge of the bed. “You’re not an idiot.” That was the easiest point to make first. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to know who your parents are.” But the rest, that was muddled and complicated.

“I mean, that was the first time I’ve actually ever met him in person. So I only know the stories really.” You continued. “I know the Professor thinks highly of him. They’ve always been close.”

“Xavier punched my dad right in the damn face the first time I saw them together.” Peter responded, turning his head to look at you directly. “Knocked him on his ass actually.”

You blinked. “Um, well...I have heard their relationship has had its rough patches too. They disagree on a lot of things as well. But they always seem to care about each other in the end, when it’s all said and done.”

Peter laid the last of the cake back down on the floor, before laying back down behind you in the bunk. “So you’re saying that’s what I have to look forward to? Alternating between wanting to kick his ass, and wanting him to stick around and have a relationship together?”

You could only be honest. “Not really what I was going for, but, I mean, that’s kind of Erik right?”

“But he’s killed people hasn’t he? How do I get past that?”

That was really the hardest question of all, wasn’t it? And now the one probably weighing on Peter’s mind the most after the interaction with that upset sailor in the mess hall.

“His sins aren’t your sins, Peter.” Was what you finally said, sighing and looking at your hands now in your lap. “Erik has lost so much too. His parents, your grandparents, I know they died at Auschwitz. The Professor told us that. And they experimented on Erik, tortured him to try and use his powers as a weapon. Erik ended up killing the man most responsible for that. But Xavier had tried to stop him anyway and ended up paralyzed for it. It was an accident though.”

You could feel Peter shift behind you, sitting up slightly in the bunk. It was most likely that he’d never heard any of this. You hated that it had to come secondhand from you. That you, this random mutant would know more about his own father’s history than himself.

But you continued. “And then what he told us in Egypt, about his wife and daughter....I mean, my God. Like you said, it doesn’t mean he can just go around hurting everyone else just because of what’s been done to him. But what would anyone else really do? How can we say where our own breaking points would be?” You weren’t trying to absolve him by any means, but how could you sit here and judge him either?

“Yeah,” Peter answered, sounding distant. “I mean, I tried not to think about it too much, everything was already so messed up. But I’ve got to tell Wanda all of this too at some point. And I don’t know how. We had a little sister, and she’s already gone. How do you...how do you even process that when you didn’t even get to meet them? How do you get closure?”

You heard him moving around like he was wiping at his face with his hands. You didn’t think he was crying, but maybe his eyes were trying to build up something that he wasn’t willing to allow yet.

“Can we just lay here for a bit?” He asked you after another moment.

“Sure,” You answered, laying back down in the bunk with him. This time you didn’t care if the others would pay any mind or not. He needed someone right now.

You were just laying the same way you’d slept last night with your back to his chest. But after a while you felt him tug at your side.

“Turn around,” He asked.

You did hesitate momentarily, knowing how much more personal that would be in the confines of the small bunk. But you allowed it, rolling over so that now you were nearly face to face, torsos touching as he wrapped his good leg over you before pulling up the blanket.

“Hey,” He smirked, seeming to cheer up at your awkward look. Your stomach flipped as you thought he was going in for a kiss, but he just ended up kissing your forehead once before pulling back.

Whatever expression you made then got a real laugh out of him.

“I was just going to tell you thank you.” He said teasingly, before leaning back in to whisper in your ear, “But you look kind of disappointed...did you want a little more?”

There was no question you were fully flustered now as you felt that heat rising in your face yet again. You’d have to make a mental note to apologize to Jean later if she was getting any of this broadcast to her. But then again, she did live in a house full of teenagers doing God knows what at any given time. Maybe she was already used to it. But you didn’t even want to think about Xavier possibly picking up on your current emotional panic either, that would be mortifying.

Sensing your spiraling distraction, Peter lightly touched one fingertip to the end of your nose. “Boop. Earth to (Y/N), have we lost signal? Overheated the engines already?”

You blinked. “That’s not funny.”

“Oh, it’s hilarious. And still waiting, dear. Always waiting...”

To be honest, when you finally kissed him, it was more just to wipe that smug look off his face. But on second thought, maybe that had been his plan all along. To taunt you into action. But it worked. It worked extremely well, as you’d both closed your eyes. His hand pressed into your back, making sure you stayed tight against him as you’d let it happen again and again. One kiss after another.

It’d been different too. The first ones back in Cairo had been so desperate more than anything, just a burst of emotion like a dying wish when neither of you had really expected to make it out of that desert.

While this now was far slower, much more thought behind each. It did make you forget everything else for those moments except the taste and feel of him.

But as much as you liked the sensations, you also knew you had to be the one to steer you both back out of it. When you felt his hand starting to move under your shirt, sliding up greedily across your bare skin, you realized he was already wanting more. And this wasn’t the place, not the time. Not yet at least. You weren’t immune to those feelings either, but it’d be much better if you waited. As much as you knew he hated waiting...

You’d pulled your lips away, but he then only moved to kissing your neck instead as you had to speak his name to try and call him back out of it. “Peter.”

“Mmm?” He responded after a moment, at least pausing, even though his lips were still touching against your throat.

You tugged his hair a little to try and get him to look back up at you.

He resisted slightly, not a lot, but you knew he was stalling as best he could before he finally relented. “Stop sign comes out huh?” He breathed, though not upset, just clearly having trouble coming out of the mood as his hand slid back out of your shirt to rest only on top of your clothes.

“Not exactly enough privacy here,” you responded quietly. Which was of course a huge understatement as the others were probably just out of earshot right now. If you were lucky anyway.

“It’s a big ship, babe. I’m sure we can find a place,” He joked, but only partially you were sure. As you really thought if you said the word right now, he’d make it his mission to find such a place immediately.

You toyed with his hair a little more, moving the messy silver strands out away from his eyes. “I think it’s getting to be pretty inevitable if you really want to know the truth.”

He leaned into the touch, just kissing your hand once more as your palm neared too close to his mouth. “You make it really tough either way, I’ll say that.”

You knew better than to lecture this one on the virtue of patience. But this was already the most physical you’d ever been with anyone as it was, and all so soon. Yet you knew it was only a matter of time. These new feelings were only growing. None of this would be fading any time soon.

You just laid your head back on his shoulder after a while, speaking to him, “Hey, after we’ve cooled down a bit more here, you want to see if anyone will allow us on the flight deck? It’d be nice to see the ocean at least before the sun goes back down. Get some fresh air.”

“Romantic stroll in the ocean breeze you say? Well maybe more a romantic hobble for me.” He chuckled dryly. “I’m game.”

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

#quicksilver #quicksilver x oc #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x oc #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x reader #x men #pietro maximoff #xmen #xmen fic #x men fanfiction #xmen apocalypse

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roach-works · 5 years ago

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here’s a story about changelings

reposted from my old blog, which got deleted: Mary was a beautiful baby, sweet and affectionate, but by the time she’s three she’s turned difficult and strange, with fey moods and a stubborn mouth that screams and bites but never says mama. But her mother’s well-used to hard work with little thanks, and when the village gossips wag their tongues she just shrugs, and pulls her difficult child away from their precious, perfect blossoms, before the bites draw blood. Mary’s mother doesn’t drown her in a bucket of saltwater, and she doesn’t take up the silver knife the wife of the village priest leaves out for her one Sunday brunch. She gives her daughter yarn, instead, and instead of a rowan stake through her inhuman heart she gives her a child’s first loom, oak and ash. She lets her vicious, uncooperative fairy daughter entertain herself with games of her own devising, in as much peace and comfort as either of them can manage. Mary grows up strangely, as a strange child would, learning everything in all the wrong order, and biting a great deal more than she should. But she also learns to weave, and takes to it with a grand passion. Soon enough she knows more than her mother–which isn’t all that much–and is striking out into unknown territory, turning out odd new knots and weaves, patterns as complex as spiderwebs and spellrings. “Aren’t you clever,” her mother says, of her work, and leaves her to her wool and flax and whatnot. Mary’s not biting anymore, and she smiles more than she frowns, and that’s about as much, her mother figures, as anyone should hope for from their child. Mary still cries sometimes, when the other girls reject her for her strange graces, her odd slow way of talking, her restless reaching fluttering hands that have learned to spin but never to settle. The other girls call her freak, witchblood, hobgoblin. “I don’t remember girls being quite so stupid when I was that age,” her mother says, brushing Mary’s hair smooth and steady like they’ve both learned to enjoy, smooth as a skein of silk. “Time was, you knew not to insult anyone you might need to flatter later. ‘Specially when you don’t know if they’re going to grow wings or horns or whatnot. Serve ‘em all right if you ever figure out curses.” “I want to go back,” Mary says. “I want to go home, to where I came from, where there’s people like me. If I’m a fairy’s child I should be in fairyland, and no one would call me a freak.” “Aye, well, I’d miss you though,” her mother says. “And I expect there’s stupid folk everywhere, even in fairyland. Cruel folk, too. You just have to make the best of things where you are, being my child instead.” Mary learns to read well enough, in between the weaving, especially when her mother tracks down the traveling booktraders and comes home with slim, precious manuals on dyes and stains and mordants, on pigments and patterns, diagrams too arcane for her own eyes but which make her daughter’s eyes shine. “We need an herb garden,” her daughter says, hands busy, flipping from page to page, pulling on her hair, twisting in her skirt, itching for a project. “Yarrow, and madder, and woad and weld…” “Well, start digging,” her mother says. “Won’t do you a harm to get out of the house now’n then.” Mary doesn’t like dirt but she’s learned determination well enough from her mother. She digs and digs, and plants what she’s given, and the first year doesn’t turn out so well but the second’s better, and by the third a cauldron’s always simmering something over the fire, and Mary’s taking in orders from girls five years older or more, turning out vivid bolts and spools and skeins of red and gold and blue, restless fingers dancing like they’ve summoned down the rainbow. Her mother figures she probably has. “Just as well you never got the hang of curses,” she says, admiring her bright new skirts. “I like this sort of trick a lot better.” Mary smiles, rocking back and forth on her heels, fingers already fluttering to find the next project. She finally grows up tall and fair, if a bit stooped and squinty, and time and age seem to calm her unhappy mouth about as well as it does for human children. Word gets around she never lies or breaks a bargain, and if the first seems odd for a fairy’s child then the second one seems fit enough. The undyed stacks of taken orders grow taller, the dyed lots of filled orders grow brighter, the loom in the corner for Mary’s own creations grows stranger and more complex. Mary’s hands callus just like her mother’s, become as strong and tough and smooth as the oak and ash of her needles and frames, though they never fall still. “Do you ever wonder what your real daughter would be like?” the priest’s wife asks, once. Mary’s mother snorts. “She wouldn’t be worth a damn at weaving,” she says. “Lord knows I never was. No, I’ll keep what I’ve been given and thank the givers kindly. It was a fair enough trade for me. Good day, ma’am.” Mary brings her mother sweet chamomile tea, that night, and a warm shawl in all the colors of a garden, and a hairbrush. In the morning, the priest’s son comes round, with payment for his mother’s pretty new dress and a shy smile just for Mary. He thinks her hair is nice, and her hands are even nicer, vibrant in their strength and skill and endless motion. They all live happily ever after. * Here’s another story: Gregor grew fast, even for a boy, grew tall and big and healthy and began shoving his older siblings around early. He was blunt and strange and flew into rages over odd things, over the taste of his porridge or the scratch of his shirt, over the sound of rain hammering on the roof, over being touched when he didn’t expect it and sometimes even when he did. He never wore shoes if he could help it and he could tell you the number of nails in the floorboards without looking, and his favorite thing was to sit in the pantry and run his hands through the bags of dry barley and corn and oat. Considering as how he had fists like a young ox by the time he was five, his family left him to it. “He’s a changeling,” his father said to his wife, expecting an argument, but men are often the last to know anything about their children, and his wife only shrugged and nodded, like the matter was already settled, and that was that. They didn’t bind Gregor in iron and leave him in the woods for his own kind to take back. They didn’t dig him a grave and load him into it early. They worked out what made Gregor angry, in much the same way they figured out the personal constellations of emotion for each of their other sons, and when spring came, Gregor’s father taught him about sprouts, and when autumn came, Gregor’s father taught him about sheaves. Meanwhile his mother didn’t mind his quiet company around the house, the way he always knew where she’d left the kettle, or the mending, because she was forgetful and he never missed a detail. “Pity you’re not a girl, you’d never drop a stitch of knitting,” she tells Gregor, in the winter, watching him shell peas. His brothers wrestle and yell before the hearth fire, but her fairy child just works quietly, turning peas by their threes and fours into the bowl. “You know exactly how many you’ve got there, don’t you?” she says. “Six hundred and thirteen,” he says, in his quiet, precise way. His mother says “Very good,” and never says Pity you’re not human. He smiles just like one, if not for quite the same reasons. The next autumn he’s seven, a lucky number that pleases him immensely, and his father takes him along to the mill with the grain. “What you got there?” The miller asks them. “Sixty measures of Prince barley, thirty two measures of Hare’s Ear corn, and eighteen of Abernathy Blue Slate oats,” Gregor says. “Total weight is three hundred fifty pounds, or near enough. Our horse is named Madam. The wagon doesn’t have a name. I’m Gregor.” “My son,” his father says. “The changeling one.” “Bit sharper’n your others, ain’t he?” the miller says, and his father laughs. Gregor feels proud and excited and shy, and it dries up all his words, sticks them in his throat. The mill is overwhelming, but the miller is kind, and tells him the name of each and every part when he points at it, and the names of all the grain in all the bags waiting for him to get to them. “Didn’t know the fair folk were much for machinery,” the miller says. Gregor shrugs. “I like seeds,” he says, each word shelled out with careful concentration. “And names. And numbers.” “Aye, well. Suppose that’d do it. Want t’help me load up the grist?” They leave the grain with the miller, who tells Gregor’s father to bring him back ‘round when he comes to pick up the cornflour and cracked barley and rolled oats. Gregor falls asleep in the nameless wagon on the way back, and when he wakes up he goes right back to the pantry, where the rest of the seeds are left, and he runs his hands through the shifting, soothing textures and thinks about turning wheels, about windspeed and counterweights. When he’s twelve–another lucky number–he goes to live in the mill with the miller, and he never leaves, and he lives happily ever after. * Here’s another: James is a small boy who likes animals much more than people, which doesn’t bother his parents overmuch, as someone needs to watch the sheep and make the sheepdogs mind. James learns the whistles and calls along with the lambs and puppies, and by the time he’s six he’s out all day, tending to the flock. His dad gives him a knife and his mom gives him a knapsack, and the sheepdogs give him doggy kisses and the sheep don’t give him too much trouble, considering. “It’s not right for a boy to have so few complaints,” his mother says, once, when he’s about eight. “Probably ain’t right for his parents to have so few complaints about their boy, neither,” his dad says. That’s about the end of it. James’ parents aren’t very talkative, either. They live the routines of a farm, up at dawn and down by dusk, clucking softly to the chickens and calling harshly to the goats, and James grows up slow but happy. When James is eleven, he’s sent to school, because he’s going to be a man and a man should know his numbers. He gets in fights for the first time in his life, unused to peers with two legs and loud mouths and quick fists. He doesn’t like the feel of slate and chalk against his fingers, or the harsh bite of a wooden bench against his legs. He doesn’t like the rules: rules for math, rules for meals, rules for sitting down and speaking when you’re spoken to and wearing shoes all day and sitting under a low ceiling in a crowded room with no sheep or sheepdogs. Not even a puppy. But his teacher is a good woman, patient and experienced, and James isn’t the first miserable, rocking, kicking, crying lost lamb ever handed into her care. She herds the other boys away from him, when she can, and lets him sit in the corner by the door, and have a soft rag to hold his slate and chalk with, so they don’t gnaw so dryly at his fingers. James learns his numbers well enough, eventually, but he also learns with the abruptness of any lamb taking their first few steps–tottering straight into a gallop–to read. Familiar with the sort of things a strange boy needs to know, his teacher gives him myths and legends and fairytales, and steps back. James reads about Arthur and Morgana, about Hercules and Odysseus, about djinni and banshee and brownies and bargains and quests and how sometimes, something that looks human is left to try and stumble along in the humans’ world, step by uncertain step, as best they can. James never comes to enjoy writing. He learns to talk, instead, full tilt, a leaping joyous gambol, and after a time no one wants to hit him anymore. The other boys sit next to him, instead, with their mouths closed, and their hands quiet on their knees. “Let’s hear from James,” the men at the alehouse say, years later, when he’s become a man who still spends more time with sheep than anyone else, but who always comes back into town with something grand waiting for his friends on his tongue. “What’ve you got for us tonight, eh?” James finishes his pint, and stands up, and says, “Here’s a story about changelings.”

#long post #writing #fic #autism #changelings #fairies

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ginkgomoon · 4 years ago

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Gavin and MC’s High School History- Detailed Timeline

Dedicated to my amazing and kind friend @cheri-cheri- one of the Queens of the MLQC fandom on Tumblr! I literally didn’t know how to use it before but I had learnt how in order to keep up with her posts. Without her work, I literally wouldn’t be on here making my own blog either. Thank you, Cheri!!

This is a timeline following the years of high school that MC and Gavin had together. Compiled of dates, rumours and secrets, calls, texts, and other from multiple servers. The source will be shown allocated to its corresponding sentence. I created this because I was really moved when I rewatched Gavin’s Old Days Date and suddenly thought of the many things other players could have missed out on regarding their high school years. If there is anything you need clarification on, or if you would like to add anything in, feel free to send a post/ask or just comment and I’ll try to incorporate and adjust accordingly!

Based off of true correspondence of the Chinese education system in Shanghai, where the schools there are very strict, with specific responsibilities and events students must have and attend to. In addition, this is different from Western school systems where years 7-9 are in a seperate schools from years 10-12 before university. Dates and seasons mentioned will also be noted as accurately as possible to suit the Loveland storyline in which different events occurred. I felt like a detective trying to piece a fractured storyline together to solve a mystery, honestly...

Prepare your tissues, your milk tea and your soul because even I almost didn’t make it to publish this...

Timeline

2008

Gavin enters high school.

2009

MC and Minor enter high school. MC does her hair in a nice ponytail, one of the only hairstyles she ever had in school.

Gavin is a grade above her. He is in his last year of high school. [Spring Festival Date]

Late Autumn of October 2010

“I noticed who you were before you ever noticed me.”

On a rainy first day of school, Gavin helps Mr Keller move the tables and chairs in the classroom.

Without taking an umbrella, Gavin leaves.

At the same time, MC saves a cat in the rain with her handkerchief, attempting to shield it from the incoming rain under a roof. She gives it snacks from her bag while sheltering it from the rain.

Gavin thinks she was nerdy-looking, but couldn't take his eyes off her and watches her from a distance for a long time. He feels out of place standing.

She looks back at him in astonishment, not knowing how long he stood for.

She smiles at Gavin.

Gavin notes that MC’s smile just like her eyes, were pure and comforting as they start filling his vision.

The rain starts to get heavier and MC shivers.

Something stirred in Gavin’s heart as he notices this, and kicks a can in frustration then shelters her with his jacket.

He runs away as MC shouts, “thank you!”

She didn’t know it was Gavin who gave her his jacket at the time.

MC goes back and is then told by her fellow classmates that the boy she encountered was the “tyrant school bully”, and “the Underworld Senior Gavin”, and that she should stay away from him. [Tilted Time- Rumours and Secrets]

MC finds piano dull to play the same songs over and over again.

MC in her spare time practices and sings to Liszt’s Liebestraum No. 3 (Love Dream) for a talent show.

At the rooftop, Gavin is wounded by a gangster’s knife. A gradually intensifying melody is heard.

Gavin kicks the gangster boss but then is pursued again. Outnumbered, wounded and losing consciousness due to major blood loss, the gangster boss kicks Gavin off the roof.

Gavin reaches out, to something- anything.

A heavy, surging melody sounded, transcending through time and allows Gavin to reflect on his past- to his father, to his late mother, and invokes deep reflection and epiphanies.

Heavy notes seep into Gavin’s ears as he almost hits rock bottom. He feels his limbs emerging with the wind and awakens his wind evol.

Gavin is now reborn.

The music continued to play. Gavin ends up humming with a bird.

He then hears MC’s singing.

MC stops, mesmerised by the ginkgo leaves flying through the wind. The ginkgo leaves falling was her favourite time of the year in high school. This vivid sight is still engraved in her memory after many years.

Gavin vows to protect her for the rest of his life. [Campus Date]

Gavin saved Minor from bullies.

Minor also happens to be MC’s outgoing, talkative desk mate who sometimes helped old ladies cross the street. How he managed to hang around Gavin and not get beaten up, nobody knew (except us). He would often copy MC’s homework but never dragged her down with him if he got caught. This was MC’s biggest impression of him.

During science class, MC cooked noodles for Minor on the Bunsen burner when he was hungry. The recipe was Shrimp flavoured instant noodles, mix two eggs in well, then add a dab of sea salt and black pepper. [S1 Chapter 7-1]

Gavin is always at the school gates at 7:30am. Carrying his flat school bag, he orders fish balls at the snack kiosk on the north side of the school. It was the third day in a row that Minor notices this. [Minor’s Memory Book]

Gavin would occasionally travel around on his bicycle. (Pre-debut Sparky??) He says he was good at riding it. [Lost Love Date]

It was hard to find Gavin as he’s rarely at school, so she didn’t see him until 3 days later when MC went to the library at sunset.

She tries to retrieve “Byron’s Poetry Collection” from the top of a 2-metre shelf, and since Gavin was a head taller, he was able to help her get it.

He musters up the introduction that he recited many times- but MC quickly thanks him and leaves before he could speak.

Minor notices Gavin watching after MC and that he was SMIL-ING.

He helps him locate MC and reports that every day after school she would go to the library for afternoon revision, always sitting in the same seat.

Gavin sat at a corner not far, quietly flipping through textbooks he hated. People who were reading in the library would be driven away because they were scared of him LOL

MC would then leave at 5pm sharp to go back home.

Gavin commits to walking back 10 metres behind her with Minor every day on forward. [CN Tilted Time Rumours and Secrets]

Gavin saves Minor from bullies again. Minor dedicates himself to be his “bro”.

He finds out that MC is an honours student, but doesn’t know that she’s the school orchestra leader. [Mystery Wings Event] and [Mark Date] However, he does know that she’s renowned as the “campus belle/ school flower”.

Minor idly mentions that more people were giving MC love letters.

Gavin tells Minor to collect all the people who were planning to confess their love to MC. Minor doesn’t want to be wingman anymore HAHA

Gavin stared those boys down as they trembled with fear. He tells them to take them back and if they scare her, he’ll make them regret it.

Minor realises Gavin’s feelings for MC. [Minor’s Memory Book]

MC eats from a small stall outside the school gate selling red bean puffs. ($3 for one, $5 for two. What a deal!)

She also encounters the stall that sells sugar figurines [Gift of Life- Sugar Figurine Call]

MC ate chocolate sticks often at school. It's also a memory of student life for Gavin, as well. [CN 2021 March Sign-In Taste of Happiness]

Students would scramble for the small swing set in the school garden. MC never went at lunch breaks, but she watches the sunset on it after school. Gavin is sometimes nearby. MC never noticed him, but she does however notice the ginkgo leaves dancing in the wind. [Mini House Small Happening- Leisure Time]

Gavin isn’t his usual self anymore. He sees MC out in the library everyday and starts reading “5 Years of College Examinations and 3 Years of Sample Questions” (book for colleague entrance examinations).

MC watches a basketball match at school. She calls someone from an away team “dashing” because they won with a dunk. This has been engraved in Gavin’s memory ever since. [Dreamers Date]

Gavin found out that he was very fond of basketball success stories, rushing into the court to try hundreds of shots after. He writes “I will beat you” beside Sakuragi Hanamichi from a Slam Dunk poster alongside “not a step back”.

(Slam Dunk starts out with a boy wanting to play basketball to impress his crush.)

Gavin then injures his head badly :(

He realises that basketball couldn’t help him to protect anything he wanted. He determines that he will do whatever it takes (to “beat” himself”). [Mystery Wings Event]

Gavin leans against a tree as he watches MC hurry down the corridor as she clutches a textbook. [Boundary Rumours and Secrets]

MC would eat pocky. Gavin would eat them too. [2021 March Sign-In Moments]

MC faints during a sports meet because she didn’t eat breakfast.

Gavin hurries to carry her to the infirmary. [CN Delightful Search Date]

He leaves bread and milk before she wakes up.

MC is on duty during PE class, which happens to be on basketball.

Minor was careless about his aim and the ball almost hit her in the head. Gavin slams the ball away. [Minor’s Memory Book]

Gavin glares at Minor as MC thanks him.

Minor also “accidentally” pushes MC towards him.

Gavin glares again.

Gavin later is continuously shooting hoops.

MC returns late at night to clean up the gym but all had been returned neatly in the basket. MC wanted to thank him but couldn’t. [CN Basketball Court Date]

There was a school sports competition that they attended. Gavin participated in the 10 lap race and came first by an impressive large measure. [Minor’s Memory Book]

MC participates in the sprint race, too. Gavin is worried about her performance, and if she would faint again.

Gavin requests Minor to take a photo of her on his phone (which probably ended up as the photo that he carried with him in his early days at special training where the other men teased him about hiding a photo of a girl.)

Approaching the End of October

Gavin, Minor and MC are walking home.

The weather is cold, and Gavin notices MC shivering in the distance. Gavin, conflicted by this, tells Minor to buy MC a hot drink without telling her that it was from him. [CN Tilted Time Rumours and Secrets]

MC would occasionally spot a hot drink or a carton of strawberry milk in the piano room. [Chapter 31-12]

Gavin one day is conflicted by their early exchange, recalling how MC looks startled at the entrance of the library after seeing each other. His spirit depletes, kicking himself (metaphorically) in the corner of the classroom at how he might have scared her.

Minor rushes in with a pink bandaid from MC for the wound at his mouth.

He carefully took that bandaid, treating it as if it was his world’s most precious treasure.

This pink bandaid was always taped on his heart and whenever he stepped into the swamp-like darkness of the night, it gave off a faint warmth. [Mystery Wings Event]

MC starts to notice Gavin everywhere. At the corners of windows, she would see his figure. At the library, he would help her retrieve books from higher places. She would also see books laid out on his table, but most of the time he would be sleeping. Beneath his overlapping arms, he sees “Byron’s Poetry Collection”. Gavin doesn’t understand the poems, though.

Lord Byron's "Don Juan" - Canto the Ninth, XVI

"To be, or not to be?" — Ere I decide I should be glad to know that which is being? 'Tis true — we speculate both far and wide, And deem, because we see, we are all-seeing; For my part, I'll enlist on neither side Until I see both sides for once agreeing; For me, I sometimes think that Life is Death,

At the music rehearsal room on the fifth floor, she would see a corner of his shirt in the wind.

MC thinks Gavin is friendly and slowly lets down her guard.

At the canteen, he would offer her the last bottle of water.

She begins smiling at him when they see each other, with the small arcs forming on her lips, soon becoming smiles that made her eyes squint.

MC would walk along the Senior hallways and subconsciously stop at a certain classroom- catching the sight of Gavin sleeping. On one particular day, she sees him standing by the window, staring at the sky.

Minor asks Gavin if he could form a band with him. Gavin rejects him. He then asks Gavin if he wanted to join the school’s singing competition. Gavin rejects him again, saying that he didn’t perform for unimportant people or have others tell him how well he could play.

MC plays “Falling Slowly” on the piano. Gavin hearing this, learns to play the guitar. He doesn’t know the name of the song but familiarises himself with the melody. [CN Music and the Past Call]

Whenever school let students out early, she would go to Lynn’s Kitchen. MC gets her noodles with clear broth, chopped scallions and a half-boiled egg. Gavin usually gets his spicy noodles with garlic, cilantro, thinly sliced beef.

Gavin remembers her favourite order.

MC leaves a post-it note at Lynn’s Kitchen, “I might never see you again and I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I miss you”, about a friend who transferred schools.

Gavin knows she hates people who leave without saying goodbye the most.

Gavin, also in the vicinity near Lynn’s Kitchen, writes a post note. “Until I met you.” [Mystery Box Game]

He saves Mr Noah’s son from an accident, immediately takes him to the hospital and pays for the medical fees. [Anime]

Gavin dismisses rumours of high school romance.

“If you confessed on the 7th step of the stairway in the corner of the 3rd floor then it’ll succeed, or if you carved your name and another person’s name on the 6th tree in the courtyard at the back then your misunderstandings will be resolved, or if a guy gave the girl he liked the second button of his uniform on graduation day then the two of them will end up happy together.”

At lunch, he hears MC talking about the second button, and upon seeing her yearning face, he raises his head in thought, suddenly couldn’t wait for graduation. He tears off his second button. [Mystery Wings Event]

Gavin is just in love at this point.

Gavin sees one of the top students stealing money from a shop outside of school. The shopkeeper doesn’t believe him.

He stops the student on his way home to hand him back the money.

MC sees him at the alley then leaves.

Gavin spent all the money on a walkman he wanted for a very long time.

Mr Keller was the only one who believed in him. He said to him, “Since you can’t change what others think of you, you might as well just listen to your heart.” This had a great impact on Gavin. [Campus Date]

Winter

In the snowfall, the school allowed additional ten minutes of break time. The class next to MC’s stuffed Minor’s shirt with snowballs.

Gavin thought of helping him with a counterattack but MC had already returned a snowball to the male student who pulled the prank.

Gavin looks at MC the whole time. [CN Recovery ASMR]

MC overheads girls in her class say that Gavin had bullied students for lunch money that morning.

MC rides her bike back home after studying at the library for her finals.

MC sees Gavin being handed an envelope full of money at Lynn’s Kitchen in an alleyway.

She mistook it for him taking protection money.

Summer of June 2011

On a humid afternoon, MC looks outside the window of the classroom in boredom. A boy in a loose-fitting school uniform ran by. She couldn’t make out his face. [S1 Chapter 7-23]

MC begins to distance herself from Gavin. She rushes out of class and goes straight home instead.

Gavin is sad. He broods by the piano room, goes to the library to brood, then stares at the place MC sits to brood some more.

Minor wonders how he’s able to stare all afternoon at an empty space in the library but sleeps all day during class hours. [Minor’s Memory Book]

Before graduation, Gavin’s father expresses his thoughts for Gavin to join the organisation for special training. Gavin refuses, but his father uses MC to influence him to agree.

Gavin remembers the panic and timidity in MC’s eyes when she first met him. He recalls that moment was probably the hardest to bear in his life.

Gavin in his short period of freedom writes a letter to MC. He ponders about what to say, thinking about their first encounter, and how she started to distance herself from him. But all he writes is-

“Saturday 9am, I will be at the school library waiting for you.

-Gavin.”

MC attends the flag-raising ceremony and rehearses her speech. She then leaves to study for her exams.

Meanwhile, Gavin finishes a fight with other boys from school in an alley after they talk inappropriately about MC. [Old Days Date]

Gavin, bloodied and bruised, asks Minor to make another copy of his letter.

This is the only thing that Gavin had asked Minor to do so of course, he agreed. [Chapter 7-11]

Minor thinks the letter is a symbol of passion and fierce love due to the bloodstains and decides to keep the original.

He writes “GAVIN” and places it on MC’s desk for her to see the next day.

(In the Campus Date, the older MC is the one who finds him instead of Minor and treats him to his injuries. She ends up seeing the contents of the letter to find him later on.)

MC mistakes the letter as a threat and throws it away.

That Weekend

Gavin sits for 14 hours in the library waiting for MC, scanning the library every now and then.

With a fingertip, he rubs “Byron’s Poetry Collection” and carefully sandwiches a dried and yellowed ginkgo leaf into the book. He suddenly felt a measure of self-deprecation.

He stands up, and leaves, his heart filled with regret that he didn’t give it to her personally. [CN Tilted Time Rumours and Secrets]

After Summer Break- July

Minor never saw Gavin, and neither did MC.

“We met often, but never passed by each other. I remember every moment I saw you in school. Time, location, weather, your expression, your clothes...

-I remember them all.”

#gavin #bai qi #mlqc gavin #mlqc analysis #mlqc translation #mlqc cn #mlqc en #love and producer #mr love queens choice #恋与制作人 #mlqc timeline #mlqc storyline #posting early because of exams #im so sad

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babbushka · 4 years ago

Text

The Rabbi Is Coming

Flip Zimmerman x Reader (Darling Jewish Wife AU)

A/N: This oneshot is based entirely off of one of my favorite videos of all time, Company is Coming by Chris Fleming. Every time I see it, it reminds me of preparing for my own family holiday gatherings, so I’ve taken it and run with it lol. I just wanted to write something short and silly for Passover, lol, and I hope you enjoy!

Also inspired by this prompt sent in by anonymous: From your Passover prompts, will you please do this one for Flip? It sounds just like him!“They tried to kill us. We survived. Let’s eat.”

2k, crack treated seriously lol, humor. Putting a small cw for the Zimmerman’s son, in case folks don’t like reading about kids (this is the last time he’s mentioned for a while I promise lol)

----------------------

Early in the morning, just after sunrise, Flip yawns and stretches awake. The golden light of morning shines through the curtains that gently move from the breeze of the ceiling fan, and a melody of chirping birds signal the official start of morning. Despite having to get up early for work every day, Flip isn’t much of a morning person. But something about Springtime and the warmth that’s on the way makes him appreciate getting up, even on the weekends.

“Good morning, sunshine, light of my life – ” Flip rolls over onto his side, ready to coax you out of your sleep as well, ready to kiss you and start the day together, but when he reaches you’re your sleep-snuggled body, he finds the bed empty, and frowns.

Sitting up, he looks around the bedroom. Your side of the covers are neatly made, and Flip can only blink, his frown deepening. He clears his throat, raspy from disuse overnight, “(Y/N)?”

It isn’t until he hears the vacuum cleaner going downstairs, followed by a frustrated groan echoing through the house, that he remembers just what day it is, and falls back onto his pillow with a wince, lighting up a cigarette and scrubbing a hand over his face with a low,

“…Oh shit.”

He checks the clock, sees that it’s practically seven o’clock, and gets out of bed. Pulling on a casual t-shirt and a pair of worn jeans, he leaves his room to see his son standing tentatively in his own doorway, as loud sounds come from downstairs.

“Pop?” The five year old asks with no small amount of hesitation in his voice, immediately reaches for Flip, who scoops him up and balances him on his hip.

“Mornin’ honey.” Flip kisses his son’s cheek, and the boy giggles, clinging to him as Flip walks down the stairs.

He’s obviously annoyed that it’s not you who gets to wake him up and carry him downstairs, as he normally prefers, but Flip doesn’t know how to tell him that today isn’t a normal day. Still, the boy is always filled with questions, and his little eyebrows furrow into an all too familiar frown as they move closer to the chaos that is you deciding to vacuum first thing in the morning.

“Why is Mama acting like that?” He demands to know, as the two of them stop at the landing, watching as you, still in your pajamas, are fighting with furniture.

“Tonight’s the first night of Pesach.” Flip explains.

“So?” His son challenges, and Flip wants to laugh, because he agrees with the kid, but when you get into a mood like this, there’s no stopping you.

“So, there’s a very special guest coming for dinner tonight, and she wants to make sure the house looks nice and clean for him.” Flip sets the boy down, and he purses his lips, like he’s trying to assess the validity of that, eventually settling on complaining,

“But we already cleaned the house.”

Flip sighs, because he’s right, you spent the entire week cleaning to prepare for Passover. It wasn’t like a normal house cleaning, Passover had special rules that had to be obeyed. One of which, was the complete and total elimination of chametz, or food made from leavened dough. The other, was the koshering of the kitchen.

But he wasn’t so sure his five year old would care to hear about all that this early.

“I know son. Let’s go see what she fixed up for breakfast,” Flip leads his son through the living room carefully, before crouching down to his level and saying very seriously, “And then when you’re done eating, just do whatever Mama says, you hear me? Whatever she says.”

Just then, you come barreling through the living room with the vacuum and a tangle of cord in your hand, shouting at a completely inappropriate volume for the hour, “Zeeskiet if you haven’t made your bed just throw it away it’s too late to make it now!”

The boy looks up at Flip, and Flip immediately shakes his head and amends, “Not that.”

Flip is a good helper. He likes to help, and he wants to help, but sometimes when you get like this, it’s a danger to himself and everyone around for him to try and insert himself into a situation where you are a hurricane of anxious energy. He busies himself with getting your son settled at the kitchen table, giving him a big breakfast of fresh fruit, nuts, and yogurt, before bracing himself to venture back towards the dining room.

“The Rabbi is coming – get rid of the couches we can’t let people know we sit!” You shout, pointing an aggressive finger at one of the dining chairs, “This chair needs to be pushed in, there cannot be any signs of living in this house.”

Flip is quick to do as you say, even though what you’re saying is nonsense – he knows better than to point that out.

“I don’t care if we have to throw everything out,” You’re mostly talking to yourself at this point, just…loudly, and aggressively, “I want this place looking like a contemporary fusion restaurant by noon.”

It was a miracle and a half that the Rabbi agreed to lead your Seder dinner, and to say that the pressure was getting to you was the understatement of the century. You had everything picked out, what you were going to wear, what Flip and the kids were going to wear; you’d been cooking and prepping all week, and now the day was finally here and you were totally freaking out.

“Flip?” You shout, walking in circles around the dining room, trying to get rid of any possible point of contamination of chametz.

“Yeah?” Flip replies, already knowing that because he’s in the other room, you probably can’t hear him. He already is walking towards you when he hears you again.

“Phil!” You call a little sharper, and Flip huffs out a laugh, his suspicion correct.

“I’m right here ketsl, what can I do?” Flip startles you by suddenly being behind directly behind you, and you throw your hands up in exasperation.

“Oh my god – we need more pillows.” You gesture to the den where the conversation pit is decked out entirely with pillows. “Can you fluff the pillows? I need these things looking fluffed.”

Flip does exactly as he’s told, and the rest of the morning follows suit.

You wandered around the house cleaning; vacuuming sweeping dusting sanitizing every possible surface, the floors, even the ceiling, shouting out random demands and requests like:

We need more flowers. We gotta put flowers in every window. Philly can you put flowers in the kitchen?

We can’t have any clothes! Everyone take off your clothes!

At that, your son cast a semi-distressed look to Flip and asked, an uncertain, “Pop?”

“Not that either!” Flip immediately answered, lest his son think it’s okay to go running around in the nude tonight.

Somewhere around hour two, your mood shifts from manic to meltdown. Your son had been instructed to make sure his toys were all nicely put away in his room, mostly to keep him out of trouble or to prevent any accidental tripping over wires. Flip though, is still running around trying to keep up with you, out of breath from your own chaos.

“What is this?” You yank the perfectly good little towel out of the oven door handle where Flip had just watched you place it, and near-tears, you groan, “This is a dish towel! We need a hand towel! What are we, barbarians?”

He’s about to say something, try to console you or at the very least calm you down, but then you come to a complete and sudden stand-still and point out, “Phil oh god there’s muffins on the counter.”

Frowning, Flip whirled around and wondered how the fuck those even got there. All of your friends knew that there was absolutely no leavened product allowed in the house, Rabbi or no, and he’s trying to wrack his brain around where they came from as you back against the wall.

“Oh my god oh – that’s it -- we have to go into the witness protection program folks!” You chuckle humorously, effectively giving up. “Shalom Rabbi! Welcome to the Zimmerman household. We live outside. We eat mud. And sticks.”

At this, you give one big overwhelmed sigh, and a little sob hiccups out of your chest.

“Hey,” Flip frowns, kicking himself for not trying to get you to take a breather earlier than this, “Hey it’s going to be okay.”

Flip gets down on the floor with you, and pulls you into a tight hug. You shove your face under his neck and cry it out, and Flip soothes your back. He knows how big of a deal tonight is for you, and he wants to do everything he can to make you happy, but letting this go on any longer won’t be good for anyone.

“I’ll get rid of the muffins, we won’t tell anyone about it, okay?” He pulls you to face him, your eyes wet and wide, your chin wobbling. He thinks you’re so ridiculous, working yourself up like this, but he loves you so much to see it regardless.

“Did you fluff the pillows?” You ask in a small sad voice, and Flip nods seriously, brushing some of your stray locks that escaped the scarf you have wrapped around your head to protect your hair, away from your face.

“Yes ketsl, I fluffed the pillows.” He kisses each of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, your forehead.

“Okay, alright okay, everyone calm down.” You say, wiping your tears away and taking deep measured breaths, suddenly asking, “What time is it?”

“Uhh,” Flip cranes his head around to try and catch a good glimpse at the clock on the wall, wondering how the hell it’s only, “Nine-thirty.”

You blink, and blink again, and then shuffle to sit upright there on the kitchen floor.

“Oh.” You reply, pursing your lips and scratching the side of your jaw. “In that case…I’m going to take a nap.”

Flip chuckles and lets you go. You’re too much all the time, and that’s exactly why he loves you. He’s never met anyone who cares as much about something like this, than you, and he wants you to go relax while he takes care of everything.

And he does, his son a proper helper as you snooze in bed, already having worked yourself to exhaustion and needing your strength back for the long dinner that’s going to come. The offending muffins are given to a neighbor, the surfaces re-sanitized, the kitchen all prepared. Your son even sets the table all by himself, enjoying being tall for his age thanks to Flip’s genetics.

When evening falls much later, and all your other guests have arrived, you feel your pulse spike as the doorbell rings. You’re dressed to the nines, as is everyone else, but Flip thinks that you’re the most radiant thing in the universe. You’re holding your son on your hip as Flip opens the door, already extending a hand for him to shake.

“Shalom Rabbi, thank you so much for joining us tonight, we can’t tell you how much of an honor it is.” You beam, as if you hadn’t had a total breakdown only that morning, as Flip invites the Rabbi inside.

“Of course Mr. and Mrs. Zimmerman, the honor is mine. And may I say, you have a beautiful home.” He looks around appreciatively, giving a nod of approval that has all the air rushing out of your lungs.

“I’m thrilled to hear you think so.” You grin, leading him through your home and into the dining room where your other guests have been happily entertaining themselves, “Shall we get started then?”

“They tried to kill us, we survived, let’s eat!” Flip announces, and that has everyone laughing, including the Rabbi.

And as the Seder commences, Flip looks across the table and gives his son a wink. In return, he lets out a small giggling laugh, glad that all the preparations and chaos you put them through have successfully paid off.

------------------

Taggin’ some Flip lovin’ friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @bxnnywriting @groovetoob

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman fanfic #adam driver fanfic #adcu #passover #my writing #jewish!reader #flip zimmerman fluff #idk how to tag this lol

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heytherejulietx · 4 years ago

Text

Secrets ~ Fred Weasley

Masterlists

Requests are OPEN

Notes - Omg this is the longest one that I’ve done but I’m super proud of this!!!!

Warnings - Mentions of alcoholism and verbal abuse.

Word count - 3.1k.

Fred couldn't know about her home situation.

That was the one thing that Y/N made herself stick to once she'd started dating the Weasley boy - that he wouldn't have to know. Honestly, she had never seen any pros in him knowing. She would just be giving him a cause to worry about her whilst she was away from him, and she hated seeing him worry. It was so unlike Fred to be concerned. So unlike him to not be wearing a huge boyish grin or laughing about something that had been said. She wouldn't forgive herself if she had been the reason he'd stopped smiling.

Every time he'd ever asked about her family, she'd just brushed it aside. Giving excuses like "oh, my dad's really not that interesting" or "my mum's just always busy with work, Freddie, she's so boring" and that would be all that was said about it before she managed to swerve the conversation into a different direction.

Fred was suspicious, obviously. He was an extremely bright and perceptive boy, so he could tell when he was constantly being lied to. He knew she was lying, and she knew he knew that she was lying. And there were things she did that just made him suspicious, too. At first he'd pushed it off as her just being jumpy, after noticing her flinch at some sudden noises. But Fred grew a little more concerned when seeing her get nervous whenever someone was yelling or got too close to her. Though he'd never brought it up. If there was one thing that Fred was exceptionally well at, it was respecting boundaries. He'd never in a million years go one centimetre over her line, and she wouldn't his. It just wasn't even something that ever crossed their mind. They knew each other well enough to know where to stop, and they did. Every time.

So Fred had never asked her about it. Though it was always in the back of her mind if he knew. Of course, there was no way he possibly could, but it didn't stop her from worrying. Had he seen the letter she'd sent home to her mum? Had he somehow heard about it from someone? Did he know?

But of course, he didn't.

So, when the conversation of the Christmas holidays was brought up, he didn't think much of her asking to spend it with his family. In fact, he was pretty damn pleased by the idea.

"Freddie?" Y/N had asked one cold November night. The both of them had snuck out of their respective dorms to meet in the Gryffindor common room, enjoying their company by the warm glow of the fire that kept them from getting chills in the cold night. She was sat in between his legs with both of theirs stretched out across the sofa, her back leaning against his chest whilst his was leaning against the armrest.

"Hmm?" The ginger boy hummed in response, one arm tightly wrapped around her middle whilst he used his free arm to run his hand up and down her arm.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" She asked, biting her bottom lip before elaborating. "I mean, obviously you'll be with your family. I just mean... would it change too many of your plans if I joined you all?"

Fred's hand stopped moving along her arm. For a short moment she suspected that he was trying to think of a way to tell her no, though when she'd shifted a little to turn and look at him she spotted a huge smile over his features that warmed her more than the fire ever could.

"You want to spend Christmas with me, love?" He inquired.

"Yeah," She smiled almost bashfully as she nodded her head. "Only if your family's okay with it, though." She told him.

"Of course they'll be fine with it!" Fred told her excitedly. "Mum's been eager to meet you for bloody ages, she'd love to have you here for Christmas. And so would I, for that matter. It'd be great, love." He smiled, leaning forwards to press a kiss to her lips, letting his happiness bleed into the action as he smiled against her lips.

So the following month, when all students were packing to go to their homes, Y/N packed her own trunk and headed off with Fred to The Burrow - a place she'd only ever heard about. Though no measure of imagination could compare to the real thing.

"Wow." She whispered in awe as she stared up at the tall building, her hand in Fred's as the much lankier boy stood beside her. "This is incredible, you grew up here?" She smiled as she looked back at him.

"Yep, all my life. It's not all that much on the inside, but it's home." The boy shrugged his shoulders as he stepped forwards, his much larger hand still keeping a hold of hers as he moved to open the door of the house, stepping inside and pulling her with him.

The first thing she got about the house was that it was warm. It wasn't just the nice heat coming from the house, though. The atmosphere itself was warm and comforting - like sleeping in bedsheets that had just been washed, or having a nice hot bath on a cold day. It was homey.

Before she could focus on the house too much, George had stepped into her line of sight, a grin over his features as he stepped forwards to bring her into a hug.

"Hey it's my favourite twin!" Y/N smirked a little into the taller boy's shoulder as she'd hugged him, giggling quietly when she heard both Fred's falsely offended gasp and George's chuckle.

"We all know I've always been more superior than Freddie." George smirked over at Fred once he'd pulled away from the hug.

"Second place is still decent though, love." She told her boyfriend, giggling quietly as she slid her arms around Fred's waist.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. George is much bloody worse than I am." Fred huffed playfully, shooting a joking glare over at George before slinging his arm over Y/N’s shoulder once George had walked off. “Plus, I’m pretty sure George can’t make you cu-“

“Fred!“ She gasped before he could even finish his sentence. The taller boy barked out a laugh at her reaction, a grin covering his expression when noticing the flush in her cheeks.

“Come on, mum’s dying to meet you I’m sure.” Fred told her with a smile. He moved his arm from around her shoulders to take her hand instead, lacing his fingers with his as he lead her further into The Burrow.

Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous about meeting the rest of Fred’s family. Maybe it was because she knew what her family was like, or simply because she wanted his family to like her. She was guessing that they were extremely lovely after all that Fred had told her, though that still didn’t stop the nervousness swirling in her stomach as she stepped into the kitchen where Fred’s mother was.

“Oh Fred dear, it’s so nice to have you home.” Molly Weasley smiled as she pulled her much taller son into a hug, causing Y/N to let go of his hand so he could move both arms around his mother.

It was strange seeing the bond Fred had with her mother. Whilst Y/N’s mother wasn’t anywhere near as bad as her father, she still didn’t get greeted with hugs and kisses when she came home. She rarely even got a hello. The thought almost made her frown as she watched the interaction, though any negative expression she had was wiped as soon as Mrs. Weasley was looking at her.

“It’s great to meet you, dear, Fred’s told me all about you.” Once again she was surprised as Mrs. Weasley pulled her into a hug too, though she was soon smiling as she hugged the woman back, enjoying the embrace for the moment before she’d pulled away.

“It’s lovely to meet you too, Mrs Weasley.” She smiled, letting Fred pull her into his side as she spoke.

“Oh please do call me Molly, lovely.” The older woman smiled, lightly squeezing her arm before turning to finish up whatever she was cooking.

Christmas with the Weasleys was something so different to what she was used to. Their hospitality towards her was baffling - something she hadn’t expected; especially not from a family who didn’t even know her. But they were all so kind and welcoming - even Percy, who had muttered something about how she was so perfect for Fred as the dinner was being served with a small smile, before continuing his previous conversation with his father about schoolwork. She’d even woken up to a few Christmas presents to her from the Weasleys (aside from what Fred had gotten her, of course) which honestly choked her up a little. Their family cared about her more than her own did.

Though of course, whilst she was thoroughly enjoying herself, she couldn’t help but think about her own family. There was guilt for enjoying herself more with a family who wasn’t hers. Sadness whenever she remembered how miserable her home life was compared to Fred’s. And of course, worry that something would happen like it did at her house. She didn’t expect anything like that from the Weasley family - who were all so nice and kind. But whenever someone shouted too loud, or something dropped and hit the floor with a loud crash, for a moment she expected the fighting to start.

The night after Christmas, Y/N had woken up halfway through the night with a jolt and teary eyes, her breathing laboured after a nightmare. Maybe it was the fact that she’d been thinking about her own family for a while, or simply because she’d just been having a genuinely good day, but of course she had to ruin the night with a bad dream.

Untangling herself from Fred’s spaghetti-like arms she pushed herself to sit up. Her eyes blinked a few times both to rid herself of any unshed tears and to adjust her eyesight in the dark room. Her heart still hammered in her chest over the dream, her body almost feeling constricted in a way. The nightmares were never worse than the real thing, though they were pretty damn close.

Once she was more with it, she could hear her boyfriend snoring beside her, and opposite them both hear George mumbling in his sleep about a fuzzy penguin or something, which made her smile slightly. Originally she had offered to sleep on the sofa downstairs so she wasn’t being a nuisance, but after Fred basically banishing her from ever sleeping there, she caved and let herself sleep in Fred’s bed with him. Not wanting to risk waking either of the twins up she carefully got out of the bed; slipping on a dressing gown and slippers before creeping out of the room to head down to the kitchen.

On her way down to the kitchen she wiped her now red eyes with the soft sleeve of her dressing gown, whilst trying not to trip over her own feet as she made her way downstairs towards the Weasley’s kitchen. Though once she was downstairs Y/N froze on the spot, seeing Mrs. Weasley sat at the kitchen table, looking up at her confusedly once she’d come into the room.

“Y/N? My lovely what’re you doing up so late?” The kind woman asked with a small frown of concern, getting out of her seat to walk over towards her.

“Yeah sorry I’m okay, I just um, I wanted a drink.” Even though she didn’t sound too convincing, Mrs. Weasley just let herself smile a little and nodded, moving over to the sink to pour her a glass of water. Once she had it she turned to hand it to her, not missing the redness in her eyes that could be seen because of the kitchen light.

“Nightmares, dear?” She asked softly as she pushed the glass into her hand, pulling out a seat at the table to her before returning to her own one.

Y/N hesitated, but after seeing that Molly Weasley could just read her like a book anyways she nodded as she took a sip of her water. “Yeah. I didn’t want to wake Fred or George so I came downstairs.” She muttered.

“That’s alright, lovely. Do you want to talk about what it was?” She asked with a kind smile, reaching across the table to lightly squeeze her hand.

Yet again Y/N hesitated. She’d never spoken to anybody about her home life - not even Fred. She knew it was probably worse keeping everything bottled up, though she couldn’t bare to let Fred worry so much about her. Though, Mrs. Weasley was clearly a kind woman, and she knew that if she told her that no hesitation would come her way. So she nodded, taking another sip of her water before speaking.

“Things... aren’t too great at home.” She muttered quietly. “My dad, he gets really stressed at work and when he comes home he drinks, and he’s not a very nice drunk... and my mum, she just doesn’t really care anymore.” She mumbled, lifting her hand to wipe her eyes when they’d glazed over like freshly cut glass with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, I know this probably isn’t what you expected me to talk about.”

“No, that’s alright dear.” Molly shook her head, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry, I never realised. Fred mentioned that you were a little jumpy, but he never said-”

“He doesn’t know.” Y/N immediately cut her off, shaking her own head. “I didn’t want to worry him, and it’s not like he can do anything about it.” She sighed, sipping some more of her water when more tears started to fall.

“You might have to tell him eventually, lovely.” Molly offered her a small smile. “But you’re always welcome here whenever you need a place to stay, alright?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I really appreciate that.” She smiled.

“It’s no problem, dear. Now try and get some more sleep, you must be shattered.”

Y/N nodded, finishing her water and thanking Mrs. Weasley once more before she headed back upstairs to Fred and George’s room. She tried to slip back into the bed quietly so she didn’t wake her boyfriend, though once she was laying down Fred squinted one eye open as he snaked his arms around her waist.

“Where’d you go?” He mumbled, still half asleep, pressing his face against her neck as he cuddled into her.

“I needed to pee. Go back to sleep, love.” She whispered back softly as she lifted a hand to start running through Fred’s hair gently, already starting to hear his breathing evening out slightly.

“M’kay.” Fred mumbled, leaving a light kiss against the bare skin of her neck before letting himself drift off to sleep again, it not taking long before Y/N fell asleep too.

Once they’d both woken up, Y/N thought about what Mrs. Weasley had told her all morning. She’d met the older woman’s gaze at the breakfast table, and Molly had just sent her a small knowing smile, before acting like she knew nothing as she turned to speak to her daughter. Y/N appreciated her not saying anything, though as the day went on she realised she probably should tell Fred. Not only should he know as her boyfriend, but she also knew he’d be there for her whenever she needed it. A shoulder to cry on when she was having a bad day, a person to cuddle after she’d had a bad dream. He’d be there for her.

So after dinner once everybody was upstairs getting ready for bed, Y/N sat beside Fred on the sofa in the living room and took his hand, letting the silence brew for a moment before speaking. “Do you ever wonder why I never talk about my family?” She asked softly.

“Not really, I guess they’re just boring old gits.” Fred chuckled at his own joke, though seeing the look on his girlfriend’s face caused him to frown as he lightly squeezed her hand. “Hey, love what’s wrong? Did something happen to your family?”

“I’ve been lying to you.” Her voice was shaky as she spoke, tears quickly gathering along her waterline as she forced herself to focus on their hands instead of looking at Fred’s face. “Things aren’t okay at home, they haven’t been for a while. My dad... he drinks a lot see, and he’s not a nice drunk.”

“Has he ever hurt you?” Fred’s voice was hard as he spoke, his grip on her hand growing a little.

“No.” She shook her head. “No, he just... says things. He thinks I’m weird for being magic, and it all just comes out when he’s drunk.” Y/N sighed, silent tears slipping down her cheeks as she lifted a hand to wipe her eyes. “That’s why I asked to stay here for Christmas.”

“Why did you never tell me?” Fred was frowning in concern when she looked back up at him, his ginger eyebrows furrowed.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” She whispered, shaking her head. “I didn’t need you worrying about something that you couldn’t control.”

“Love,” Fred sighed, letting go of her hand to wrap his arms around her and pull her into him. “I’m always going to worry about you, okay? I want you to tell me when things are wrong so I can be there for you. I’m really sorry about your dad. I’ll always be here for you, you know that right?”

Y/N buried her face in his chest as she wrapped her arms around his waist, nodding as she relaxed into him. It was like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, now that he knew. It was a relief that he knew - that she didn’t have to hide it from him anymore. And it was even more of a relief knowing he’d be there for her. “I know.”

“Good.” He whispered, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head before tightening his hold on her. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Freddie.” Y/N whispered back, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxed further into her boyfriend’s comforting hold, soothed by knowing he was going to be there for her, and that she didn’t need to worry anymore.

He knew. And it was okay.

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