#but it feels incredibly unofficial. i feel like a kid asking for attention. and i know deep down they probably arent reading the comments | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thedaveandkimmershow · 1 year ago

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Right around the top of September, Facebook likes to remind me about once upon a time, a long long time ago, when Linzy was starting school.

And there are plenty of 1st Day of School memories.

Interestingly, this year Linzy 'n I kicked off the month at The Willows were she had a gig and I had truffle fries and we ran into an old friend from summer camps, Chris. :-)

As with a lot of our months this year, while Linzy 'n I kick it off at one of her gigs, Kimmer's with family on her regular monthly southern California visit to care for her aunt and hang out with her cousin who's legitimately the most brother of a brother she has.

September was also about coming to grips with the fact that we've been back for three months now after living on Capitol Hill for four years. September was the month we actually started walking out our front door to embark on neighborhood walks. Since we've been away for a while, we want to see how this place has changed. We also want to simply remember places and people we know. We still enjoy talking to neighbors from other neighborhoods and paying specific attention to this pinpoint of earth on which we live as well as the places nearby.

It's definitely one way to make the world smaller.

There's another one we'll get to, of course, in a moment.

One of the things about Fall I pointed out before is that it's a series of major holidays.

How do I know they're major?

Well, because there's a Vince Guaraldi soundtrack for all three: Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Each of which, of course, has its own Charlie Brown special devoted to it.

September, though, is an unofficial fourth holiday month.

Wait. What's the holiday?

Glad you asked. Because the holiday is our wedding anniversary, this year celebrating the 31st one. A helluvan accomplishment for a coupla high energy kids growing up in proximity like particles in a particle accelerator speeding in opposite directions along the same circular path.

Something like that.

Basically, our paths crossed, kept crossing, and the subsequent colliding of particles, the subsequent smashing of atoms, the subsequent relationship that resulted, held fast.

Like I said, it's a helluva thing.

This year, Kimmer was thinking about our anniversary, our 31st wedding anniversary, and she started thinking about a 7-day Universal Studios vacation celebration during the week of our anniversary. So she asked what I thought and I said Yes! before the question was fully out of her mouth.

It was a thoroughly epic, massively relaxing vacation. Maybe the best peace/adrenalin balance we ever achieved on a theme park vacation. In a nutshell, it's achieved by doing fewer rides each day and making sure that, of those fewer rides, they're the top of your list. Which preserves those experiences and allows plenty of time for strolling, taking time, relaxing, peace, and one more thing:

Surprises.

Like this one that seemed to form out of thin air:

youtube

It's a hellava story I captured in my September 20 post if you'd like to hear the whole thing. And trust me.

You do.

😘

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Each of our days of vacation were incredibly long in the best way possible. It was more than 24 hours packed into each 24-hour day that somehow left plenty of room for adrenalin experiences and relaxing experiences without feeling rushed. Without feeling exhausted. Without needing a vacation...

For our vacation.

There's a ton to appreciate and definitely I wrote it all down. In a nutshell though, I'd point out "Thunderstruck" at Margaritaville, the massive lightning shows that were on display most nights and, of course, Harry Potter.

Fun and relaxation in the water was also a big deal along with a singular massively epic fail on a water ride during which we thought we might dodge a thorough dunking.

But we did not.

We got soaked.

The dunking was so thorough and unexpected, we literally had to step into a people dryer afterward.

It was an incredible vacation across everything we wanted to experience (and even those few things not on our bucket list that happened anyway).

And yes.

It felt like more than a week of vacation.

The best.

😁

Interestingly, Linzy 'n I finished the month the way we began it: at one of her gigs. Afterward, we had the lovely opportunity to order a cup of creamy ice cream and stroll around the neighborhood at night whilst we partook of unique creamy flavors and enjoyed each other's company.

Of course it always comes to pass that while we're at one of these gigs at the top or bottom of the month, Kimmer's inevitably in southern California with family.

This time around, though... there's a plot twist.

This photograph and the two below were taken at the top of April of this year. Kimmer's aunt Jacquie wasn't super articulate but we could still see her personality. Feel it. This is, in fact, my favorite memory of Jacquie, a combination of this version of her in this place. This is a courtyard under the shade of trees. It's comfortable, a kind of oasis even in summer when the outside world heads into the 90s and broaches the 100s.

When I think of Jacquie, I think of her here.

But then.

But then at the beginning of last week, Sunday maybe, Jacquie fell and hurt herself. By Tuesday that injury declared itself to be a broken hip, making surgery inevitable and soon. This wasn't exactly like her husband in the first days of this year when we were down in southern California within twelve hours of getting the news of his death. This...

Was a process.

So Kimmer had a couple days to figure out the best path forward before getting on a plane last Thursday without a return ticket.

Without a return ticket?

Yeah. Too many question marks in the air. She'd just have to wing it. She'd have to advocate for her aunt to the medical/surgical team as her aunt's circumstance evolved. She'd have to continue her doctoral studies on the fly. She'd have to see clients online from her cousin's place or a hotel.

Basically, she was taking The Kimmer Show on the road, in a way... indefinitely.

Fortunately, Jacquie seemed to recover from her surgery with more cognition onboard, not less. There's more of her present. More personality. More lucidity. She's able to articulate more.

She's got some of her Muchness back.

Not all of it. But it's breathtaking to witness when you're convinced it's all gone.

More incredibly, on the first day after Jacquie's surgery, she was in her room, Kimmer was out in the hall, Jacquie needed something from Kimmer and so called Kimmer's name.

That, by the way, was information we all knew to be gone. Just as our names are gone. Oh sure, Jacquie may know that she knows us without knowing names or relationships or history... you can see that understanding in her eyes. But we all know the specifics of who we are to Jacquie are irretrievably gone.

Except...

She shouted Kimmer's name.

Somehow... that information was available again. It hadn't been erased.

It hadn't been erased. It had spent all this time hiding from Jacquie's conscious awareness.

Damn.

Still...

Our conversations across this last week aren't my favorite. We all know we're somewhere near the end without being able to see it. So yes. We have talked about memorial services. We have talked about eulogies. We've talked about the end without knowing where it is.

The reason for that is twofold:

Jacquie's recovering into a version of herself with more cognition.

And she's in the right place.

You see the other significant task for Kimmer down here was finding the right hospice care for Jacquie. And she did.

She found it.

She found a place closer to her cousin's home. And she found the right people to walk this last mile with her aunt.

To walk this last mile.

With her aunt.

Because of that, because these are the right people, the ambiguity, the uncertainty, the not knowing... is okay. Is more than okay. No matter how long or short this last mile turns out to be.

Are we thankful for that?

Oh dear God in heaven.

Yes.

😊

So that's it for September.

Nine down.

Three to go in 2023.

Onward!

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shoot-the-oneshot · 2 years ago

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PAPER RINGS

Based on this idea with the ring from Purple Hearts.

The one where rooster can’t find the perfect ring

Hangman version Young Maverick version

“Woah!” Maverick yelled being pulled into an empty classroom, “Rooster?” He asked seeing the pilot start to pace once the door shut. “I need your help Mav.” Since Bradley could tie his shoes he hasn’t asked maverick for help so this spiked his stress levels. “It's Y/N.” Rooster mumbled out. “What happened to Y/N?” If Bradley was the son he never had you were the daughter he was incredibly protective over you.

“Something happened to Y/N!” Rooster froze worry overcoming his entire body as he quickly looked out the window where he knew your jet would be soaring through the air. “That’s what you said!” Maverick yelled, making Rooster throw his arms in the air. “No, I didn’t, you did.” The men quieted down the stress of something happening you calming. “What did you need help with?”

“I want to marry her.”

“Kid that’s great but why’d you have to stress me out first come here,” Maverick said pulling the other man into him for a hug wishing that Goose was here to see his boy all grown up. Rooster rolled his eyes at the last comment.

“Will you help me pick out a ring?” Maverick had never been so happy to be invited to a jewelry store before but for the two kids coming together he couldn’t wait. Until they got there, then he slightly regretted it he should’ve known really. Goose was the same way when he went shopping for Carols.

“Do you like any of these?” Maverick asked glancing down at the glass cases of engagement rings. Rooster looked silently. He knew for sure he wanted to marry you, but he had no idea what type of ring you wanted. Thinking back on it he really should’ve asked Phoenix.

“No, they’re just not right.” He sighed, shaking his head, he knew if his mom and dad were there they’d know exactly what to do. maverick who had never been married was just as lost as Bradley, but he tried his best, “just, Just look at the rings, and when you see one that makes you feel the way you do when you look at Y/N that’s the one.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” With his newfound outlook, he spent probably another two hours looking from ring to ring, and nothing felt right. “Can I see the last one again?” He sheepishly asked, he know that the poor saleswoman hated him even Mav, who was resting his head on his hands. His mom loved the ring his dad gave her wore it long after he died, and Rooster wanted you to love yours just as much. Setting the rings down he groaned rubbing his hands down his face.

“Kid you could give her a paper ring and shed say yes.” Rooster paused at his words an idea popping into his head. “ Thank you!” He yelled, pushing the rings back and pulling Maverick behind him out the door. “Am I missing something?” Mav wondered aloud watching Rooster run to the back of his bronco and pull out a toolbox.

“I don’t need to buy her something I need to give her something.” He mumbled paying half attention to what Maverick was saying. “You’re going to give her your dog tags?” He asked, Watching the young pilot put them out of his shirt and off his neck. Separating the smaller chain from the longer one. “Part of them.” Cutting the chain to the length he measured next to a ring he took from your nightstand. Smacking Maverick's hand away when he went to reach for it. “Don’t touch.” Of course, Maverick ignored him and picked it up anyways when Rooster was done with it.

“You stole her ring?” Rooster huffed cutting him a glance from what he was doing. “I borrowed it.” Mav nodded along. “Stole it.” He whispered, making the pilot huff

“It’s temporarily misappropriated!” Rooster barked going back to the task at hand, connecting the chain back together he slid the small loop onto his finger showing Maverick.

“What do you think?” Bradley felt more nervous now than he did in the jewelry store. Watching for any look that may come over his unofficial uncles face. A proud smile slid on his face looking from the makeshift ring and the other pilot shifting on his feet. “Y/n will love it.” Passing the ring back Rooster immediately started fiteling with it.

“Are you sure? I know it's basic but we can pick out the other ring together so she really likes it you know, and I always wished I had my dads tags, thanks for that by the way.” Maverick cringed,

“so maybe even when I’m away she still has a little piece of me to carry around.” He rambles making Mav grab him by both arms to get him to take a breath. “Kid it's perfect.”

“Are you sure, because she definitely deserves perfect.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

“Are you okay babe?” You asked seeing your boyfriend shift in his seat for the thousandth time nice he picked you up. Not to mention his hand white-knuckling the steering wheel. His head snapped over to you, quickly going back and forth between you and the road. “What? Yeah, I’m fine just looking forward to tonight.” Patting your knee than going straight back to the wheel. Normally his hands never left you so his behavior was confusing you a bit.

What you didn't notice was rooster had changed his shirt five times before driving to get you, he even had his second choice in the back in case he changed his mind. Maverick had brought Penny over during his spiral for a pep talk thinking shed help the young pilot better than he could. It slightly helped.

“We’re going to follow them right?” Penny whispered watching rooster pull off. “Of course we are I’m not missing this.”

Pulling up to the beach Rooster pulled you back when you went to step out of the car, pressing a kiss to your empty ring finger he asked you to wait while he set up.

Watching him running with arms full of baskets and bags made you giggle when he tripped a bit, sand and running not really mixing well.

Spreading out the blanket and fighting against the ocean breeze he managed to get all the candles lit, surrounding it with the flowers he hid there earlier. He had all your favorite foods there too. So you could celebrate if you said yes, or could drown his sorrows if you said no. Taking a few steps back and looking at his set up he nodded “talk to me dad.” He whispered, taking a breath before going back to get you.

“My lady.” He spoke in a playful British accent helping you out of the car. Making you let out that laugh he fell in love with hearing. “What do you have planned this evening Sir Bradshaw?” You asked playing along as you walked hand and hand down the path. His set up still out of view. “Picnic on the beach and watching the sunset sound good to you?”

“Perfect.” You leaned up to press a soft kiss against his jaw. God, he really hopes you think so. Before you both got any closer he pulled you to a stop. “You mind?” Holding up a bandana he didn't need to explain what he wanted. ‘Must be some picnic huh.”

With the bandana secured he carefully led you farther on the beach stopping you once you stood in the middle of the blanket. Not releasing your hand as he knelt on one knee in front of you. “You can take it off now.” You gasped seeing him on one knee. Looking up at you with the most love you’ve ever seen come from a person.

“Y/n, I said I fell in love with you at first sigh the night we met, but know all this time I spent with you I realized that’s not true.” He paused to collect himself seeing the tears start shimmering in your eyes, “every second I see you I fall more in love its love at every sight, every thought, every moment I spend with you makes me fall deeper and deeper in love with you and I want to love you for the rest of my life, will you give me that chance and marry me?”

pulling the chain ring out of his pocket he held it between you, you quickly nodded your head the second he asked, “Yes, yes yes!” Excitement flooded his entire body at your words and he stood to pull you into him and spun you around. “She said yes!” He shouted to no one in particular. Caressing his face you pressed your lips together a little awkwardly since neither of you could wipe the smiles off your faces.

Setting you back on your feet, he shakily slid the ring on your finger. “We will get you a diamond obviously but I didn’t want to pick it out without you.” You breathlessly laughed shaking your head fondly at your new fiancé. “It’s perfect I love it!”

Your moment of staring into each other's eyes broke as you both heard clapping.

“Oh god.” Rooster groaned hiding his face in your neck as you laughed, watching Maverick's eyes widened realizing they’ve been caught giving a shy wave as Penny beamed. You felt Rooster chuckle against you before he straightened up holding your left hand in his raising it. “We’re getting married!”

Hi!! Hope you guys liked it let me know in the comments and check out my TopGun masterlist for more. And let me know who’s version you want next in the comments Hangman or Young Mav

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electrosuite · 2 years ago

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howdy al! i wanted to request a brother!steve harrington.

kinda like a part 2 to the fic where eddie comes back after four years. but i wanted it to be right after y/n gives birth and she's in the hospital and some of the kids come to see, accompanied by steve and robin.

steve is y/n's big brother (by a year) and convinces her to move back in after she’d been unofficially living with eddie. he offers so he can help her raise his niece and she agrees

warnings: mentions of pregnancy & birth

word count: 1.5k

masterlist

Six hours had passed since you gave birth to your daughter Rose. And she looked just like Eddie, the father and love of your life.

This was what you were most nervous about after finding out you were pregnant the day of his funeral. Giving birth and raising your daughter without him. Having to go through it mostly alone terrified you.

But you were incredibly thankful for Wayne Munson, Eddie’s uncle. He let you stay living with him when you wanted to and told you that he would be happy to help with anything you needed during the day before he went to work.

Before Eddie died, you’d been staying with him more than you were home. Sleeping next to him with his arm around you most nights made you feel more at home than you ever had, and before you knew it, that was gone.

Rose had the same curly dark brown hair as her dad, and a lot of it. Really the only feature that she had of yours were your eyes.

And for six hours, you were completely alone in your hospital room. The only company you’d had was Rose, who had been in your arms for the last twenty minutes. That was, at least, until a small crowd of your closest friends burst through the door.

Steve, your older brother, Robin, one of his best friends, Dustin, his other best friend, and Lucas, who was everyone’s friend.

You looked over and smiled at the sight of them, Dustin holding a group of balloons with the word ‘Congratulations’ written across them.

“Hi, guys,” you greeted quietly, trying not to upset your daughter. They all rushed over to see the baby, all of them grinning at the sight of her.

“What’s her name?” Lucas asked.

“Well, I wanted to name her something to honor Eddie. Guns N’ Roses was his favorite band so I went with Rose. It’s a common enough name that I doubt anyone would know the meaning, but I always will.”

After a few seconds of silence, Robin asked a question that stunned you and Steve.

“Can I hold her?”

You both looked at her with expressions of confusion.

“Really? I thought you didn’t like babies,” you responded.

She shrugged. “I have exceptions.”

“Okay. I’d love to have my arms free for a minute.”

You handed Rose over to her gently, reminding her to support the head. Once she had her situated, she walked over to the pull out couch a few feet from the bed, all of her attention now on your child.

Steve pulled the recliner over so he could sit next to you, Dustin and Lucas walking over next to Robin.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, clasping his hands in his lap and crossing his left leg over his right.

You and Steve had always been extremely close, much more than any other siblings that you knew. Your parents were gone a lot, your dad on business trips and your mom tagging along because she didn’t trust him.

So there were a lot of spans of time, ranging between two days and two weeks, that you were either home alone together taking care of each other or at your grandparents’ houses. Those times allowed you to form an unbreakable bond. And even though you didn’t see each other every day anymore, you talked on the phone a lot when you were apart.

“Exhausted. And I’m still pretty swollen and my back hurts, but other than that, peachy.” He smirked, chuckling to himself. “I just wish he was here.”

He instantly knew you were talking about Eddie.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you when my water broke. I know you would’ve liked to be here.”

He shrugged. “I’m here now.”

“Steve,” said Robin, who walked up behind him. “Wanna hold your neice?”

He nodded enthusiastically, straightening up in the chair but keeping his legs crossed.

She slowly handed the baby over and you could see instant joy in his eyes. They lit up like a Christmas tree and you could tell he was getting emotional.

“You okay?” you asked.

He nodded. “I just didn’t expect to be an uncle so soon.”

“Trust me, I didn’t either.”

Steve looked at Robin again. “Why don’t you take them to get something to eat, I need to talk to Y/N about something.”

She nodded, glancing at Dustin and Lucas. “Let’s go get food.”

They nodded, following her out of the room and to the cafeteria.

“What’s up?” you asked, loosely crossing your arms.

“You should move back in.”

You raised your eyebrows and scoffed, remembering how much your parents disapproved of you dating Eddie, much less having his child. They told you that if you went through with it, they would only do the bare minimum of helping you raise the baby.

“Yeah, as if Mom and Dad would let me.”

“I already talked to them. They said you could.”

“They said that?”

He nodded. “They just said that they wouldn’t help that much.”

“Wow. I’m surprised they agreed to that. The last thing they said to me was that they spent years hearing two babies crying through the night and they weren’t gonna do it again.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised too. But that’s what I’m here for. I want to help.”

Your eyebrows contorted into an expression saying ‘Really?’

“Have you ever even held a baby before today?”

“No, but neither have you.”

You sighed. “No, I’m not gonna ask you to help me. She’s my kid, I can do it.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

“Still.”

“Y/N, you’re all alone. Without Mom and Dad, you’re doing this by yourself.”

“Eddie’s uncle said he can help during the day.”

“Okay, well what happens when night comes? You’re not gonna get any sleep doing this alone.” You sighed again. “The whole reason I’m asking you to move back in is so I can help. I’ve told you your whole life that I’m here to help. So let me help. You’d do the same for me.”

You were silent for a moment, thinking about it.

“Okay. Okay, fine.”

He smirked and nodded. “Great.”

“You do know you’re gonna have to change diapers, right?”

“Yep, I know. But it’ll be worth it.”

Rose wrapped her left hand around Steve’s pointer finger and you swear he could’ve melted on the spot at how tiny she was.

“I love you,” you said, a genuine smile on your face.

“I love you, too.”

Going home the next day, you were ambushed at the door, your mom demanding to see the baby. She gushed over her for a few minutes but stood firm about not helping.

Teaching Steve to change a diaper was like teaching a germaphobe to touch dirt. He was trying his absolute best to keep his hands clean, but you kept telling him he could just wash them afterwards.

She loved yanking on his hair. She’d reach up when he least suspected it, grab a handful of it, then pull, seemingly as hard as she could. And when he’d say ‘Ow’ or groan from the pain, she only laughed.

Once she was able to hold her head up, he’d wear the baby sling that you got for your baby shower on his chest and put her in it with her facing away from him so he could keep her close while he was watching her.

When you got home from work one day, he was standing in the kitchen doing dishes with her strapped to his chest, bouncing and dancing to the music that was playing — specifically Head Over Heels by Tears For Fears.

When he splashed a tiny amount of suds onto her nose, she laughed loudly.

You chuckled, walking into the kitchen and leaning down against the island onto your elbows.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked, turning to look at you for a moment.

“Just how much of a damn dork you are.”

“She’s having a great time.”

“I can see that.” She wiped the suds off of her nose and reached up without looking, smearing them on his cheek.

That night, as you and Steve gathered around for Jeopardy!, Rose crawled over to sit beside him on the couch. His arm was laid across the back of the couch, leaving a perfect baby-sized opening. You were more than glad that she loved him, and you knew they’d be close as she grew up.

“Hey,” you said, getting his attention.

“Hm?” he looked over at you, crunching on his snack of popcorn.

“Do you remember that day in that RV when you were talking to Nancy about having six kids?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re gonna make a great dad.”

He looked down at his niece leaning against his side.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He nodded. “Thank you. Right back at you. Not about you being a dad. You’re a great mom.

“I got it,” you chuckled. “Thank you.”

Within a few minutes, you and Rose had dozed off, Steve answering the game show’s questions to himself.

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rumblelibrary · 3 years ago

Note

Have you ever thought about writing a continuation to Unofficial Meeting? I'm dying to know whether Laszlo earns the reader's forgiveness and if she accepts his proposal or not. Have a good day! 😚

Undisclosed Meeting [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Laszlo self deprecating himself hard

A/N: how could I give up a chance to make my boy Laszlo happy? Thank you so much for requesting it, it really made me happy to have an old story requested. Here is the original story

“Are you even listening to me?”

Violet inquired as you blinked surprised and taken aback. She invited you over for an afternoon tea, but your mind kept wondering off to what happened between you and Laszlo. You haven’t seen him in over a month and to be honest you missed him. The first few days you were firm on your choice, he upset you and your family, he crossed your boundaries mindlessly.

But then you realised how he meant to ask your hand to your father, how he never meant for you to be hurting, he just wanted to make it official.

Your grandmother tried to talk you out of your anger but she didn’t managed to, it was over anyway. You upset each other, you closed that chapter.

If you have feelings for him that chapter is not closed, your grandmother told you but you tried to ignore it. You haven’t seen him in so long, not even at some event or where you’d usually expect him to be. He kept sending you flowers to you until the end of the previous month. That silly man, always hating to leave things halfway done.

“I am, I am just a bit tired” you said as she waved her hand

“nonsense ” she said offering you to try some sweets while she stood up to call her maid and gather what she meant to show you “I’ll show you now the latest Paris fashion and you’ll have to wake up”

She was your friend, she was sweet and she knew you were on a rough patch now and she did all in her power t keep you distracted.

“Charles stop it”

John’s voice rang through you ears as you stood up to see what was going on from the window facing the luscious back garden of the Moore residence. Little Charles was the spit image of his parents and an adventurer at heart, you could tell from the way he kept his father busy running after him.

You smiled as John gave up opening his arms in defeat.

“What I have to do?” He groaned making you chuckle as for a moment it looked like he was asking to God, but when you noticed that he was in fact talking to Dr Kreizler who was sitting on a bench. You codlin’t help but rest your eyes on him, he looked pale, tired like he wasn’t sleeping. He was like this during investigations but as far as you knew there was no one at the moment.

“Wat you have to do John? Let the boy be” he said as a tired smile crept onto his lips.

“Yes, he will break his skull in a second”

Laszlo shook his head looking at him “If you prevent him from doing anything he won’t never learn” he said as he spoke matter of factly but that tiredness in his voice was evident. You wondered what kept him up.

You wondered if t was your fault.

But then you saw the sweet look he had for the child as he picked a ball that was hiding behind his back to give it to him to play with.

He was so good with kids, it was incredible.

You knew it was his job, but the tenderness he showed with them was something you felt on your own skin as you used to be allowed to be part of that special round of people that got to see him being sweet.

You moved away from the window just in time for Violet to come back, her maids holding onto over twenty new items of clothing.

“V” you said to her as the use of that little nickname sparked already her attention “I have to ask you a favour”

It was dead in the evening when Laszlo got asked from Violet to meet a friend of hers with a child with various problems.

The symptoms she described didn’t really add up, they should be excluding each other. But no matter what he decided to go there.

He usually was very firm about his privacy and the times he could meet or not patients, even though the secrecy of the hour would be typical of a wealthy family trying to hide some kind of a problem they judge as shameful, he also came to a point where work was all he got.

He missed you, everything reminded him of you. He hoped to see, he would be a liar if he didn’t admit to have handed a dollar or two to your maid to at least know how are you.

He didn’t mean to stalk you, he just wanted you happy and once more he was acting behind your back. But your maid told him you were fine and doing your business, so he stopped inquiring. He didn’t deserve you in the first place anyway, but how things ended really pained him, he really thought to be doing right and he really wanted to have a future with you, to have many what John has.

But what nonsense thinking about it now that it is all gone and by his own hand, he had nobody to blame but himself.

As he arrived to the building he got inside surprised not to find anyone at service but only an open door.

The instinct would have told him to go away, but he was reckless by now, he already lost what he cared the most.

Walking inside the candlelit hallway he was surprised to get to a large living room only to find you there.

The truth was that he stopped on his track to admire you. You were amazing, he adored you in any possible shape and form, everything from your clothing to your composure screamed for his eyes to be fixated onto you.

He took that moment to look at you, take in your image, last time you two spoke you were so upset and he didn’t want that to be the last image he had of you.

“I am more discreet than you when I have to do things in secret” you said and he smiled lightly

“You’re”

His admission, the tiredness of his look just paining you.

“Is this a house of your family?”

“Yes, it is my aunt’s but she is on some cruise with her husband”

He nodded quietly as he looked around moving closer to you, the candles around you making him feel like the moment was set in another time.

“You didn’t have to make an appointment to meet me”

“Well, I asked a friend for a favour, I could have paid Stevie to drive you here anyway” you answered, basically hinting him that your maid didn’t keep his little inquiring a secret between the two of you.

He nodded gulping down, he felt like he was naked in front of you, defenceless and anything you could attack him with would really hurt.

“I though that after our last conversation we needed to speak alone and in a neutral ground, I attacked you and I know I moved past my means”

“Just like I did inquiring about your life without permission” he concluded for you, he kept thinking about that day over and over, he couldn’t take it out of his mind and he even thought it would be easy only because so many people hated him already, button you. He wished you’d never be one of them.

“Miss Y/L/N” the fact he used your last name showing how he was trying to prove you some respect, not using your first name like you’re somehow close, mostly because he doubts you’d wish him close at any time.

“All I have ever wanted was to be worth of you”

His words trembling, like snakes sliding onto your skin.

He opened his mouth to say something and he closed it as he stared somewhere away from you, he shook his head slowly. The pain visible through him.

“I am a despicable failure as a human being, I know it” he said as he rose his hand to invite your silence “I have spent my life trying to find a common language to get through people, studying them ,making sure to be able to read human behaviour to allow myself the freedom of interaction. I am not a natural like John, I can’t just go on a group and charm my way through it and I knew, I knew from the moment you allowed me to be close to you that I would ruin it because I am such social wreck, because I can’t control myself or I can’t not follow the rules that I have been told are the right path to follow”

He let out a shaky breath as he looked down and then up at you, he was trying to hold back tears but the truth was that he cried for losing you, He cried for nights and days.

“I apologise once more, I wanted to do you right and I just overstepped you. I always admired you for your being independent and clever and I reduced you to an object with my insensitive behaviour. I always make myself strong from talking my way through people and I blindsided you when words were the most needed”

You looked at him as maybe for the first time he really throw away the mask, he really let himself speak up.

“I valued what you did for me” you blinked at him surprised, your head slightly falling on side to observe him.

He was going down the self deprecating himself hill, you could almost count how much time there was between him going down onto his arm topic. You know that was always his undisclosed weakness, how he hated it and saw himself as unlovable because imperfect.

“It is yes”

He looked at you with a frown not seeing what you mean.

“My answer for your question”

He frowned even more, what question? You could hear it resonate into his mind as he didn’t ask you anything, he came to you to apologise and…

And then he got it.

His eyes widened as he opened his mouth only to close it again.

No, he was probably misunderstanding, once more reading badly the situation.

You picked your left glove slowly taking it off to show him you were wearing his ring on your hand.

He stared at you, his hand hesitantly moving to pick yours bringing it up to his lips and resting a kiss over it, his hand holding yours as he stared up at you.

His wet eyes now unmistakable from cha closeness, the signs of his lack of sleep visible.

“In a marriage there shouldn’t be secrets, I tried to avoid something shameful for me when you allowed me to see every part of you” you admitted as you weren’t free from blame, you referred to pretend something wasn’t there rather than facing it.

He stared at you with shaky breath, as he licked his lips trying to find words.

“I love you Laszlo, I really want to be your wife”

His jaw trembled as the happiness rushed over him like electricity, his hand bringing yours over his heart beating so fast and hard that he felt it could explode.

“I love you Y/N” he whispered as you caressed his cheek with your right hand as he leaned down, still not daring to believe what was happening.

So you just did it, you leaned in closing the space between the two of you with a kiss.

The times were changed.

Women could accept wedding proposals without their father’s approval, men could cry for love and love words were made of truths and exposed weaknesses and not by the words of dusty poets. And with such strong ideals you could only imagine your life as set up for a greater kind of happiness with him.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog

#dr kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler x you #dr laszlo kreizler x reader #dr kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #laszlo kriezler x reader #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler x y/n #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler imagine #dr laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler headcanons

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trashmenofmarvel · 4 years ago

Text

Branded - Chapter 57 (Final)

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You find your relic.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

AO3

You’d only been to the ancient Sanctum a few times, with strict access to the library for your studies and nowhere else, and normally you would be excited to visit the unofficial headquarters of the Mystic Arts.

But now, as you followed Wong to the room of portals that would lead to the Nepal sanctum, your stomach twisted and your heart raced. You couldn’t even enjoy the fact this was where Strange had gone on his near-disastrous pilgrimage. The idea of the Ancient One kicking him out on his ass was an entertaining one, though you were still glad she eventually trained him. As irritated as you were about a lot of things regarding the former surgeon, he and Wong both had taught you nearly everything you knew.

Plus, you’d seen the scars on his hands. As arrogant and egotistical as he appeared, Strange had suffered to get where he was. Not unlike yourself. Not unlike Bucky.

The Orb of Agamotto hung within the circular room where other sorcerers consulted with it, verifying that the magical Earthly shields were still intact. Past them were three doors leading to the other sanctums, including the one in Kathmandu.

You and Bucky followed Wong through, the familiar feeling of displacement shifting your stomach and throwing you off balance for a moment. Neither Wong nor Bucky were as unsteady as you were. It had been something you were embarrassed about, but according to Strange during one of your lessons, it simply meant you were more sensitive to spatial displacement.

As Wong led you both through the ancient stone hallways, past the commons where other sorcerers were in training, doubt crept along your nerves. Someday, possibly sooner than you were prepared, all of these people were going to follow you. Look to you for guidance, for teaching. For protection.

How were you supposed to become the next Ancient One if you couldn’t even walk through a portal without getting dizzy?

This wasn’t going to work. The idea was crazy enough to begin with. The Ancient One had to be wrong. You were going to step into her office and nothing would happen. You would make a fool of yourself; you weren’t any more talented or skilled than any other sorcerer. Just half a year ago, you’d had no idea demons and magic were even real.

And now, you were expected to carry on the mantle as one of the most powerful sorcerers on Earth? How was that even possible? How could you ever be worthy enough to—

Wong opened a door using a complicated series of hand gestures, and as soon as you stepped through, your panicked mind fell silent. Energy thrummed along your skin, setting the hairs upright.

“Here it is.”

Wong’s announcement was unnecessary; you would know this place in your dreams, even though you had never been.

It was a simple room with a single large, circular window pointed towards the mountains over the city. Potted plants perched on most available surfaces that weren’t covered with books, scrolls, and odd knickknacks.

There was only a single writing desk pushed to the side, humble and unobtrusive. The rest of the room was empty space with a single well-worn green rug in the middle. But the plants made everything seem alive and verdant. It felt very much like a place the Ancient One would spend her time. It was a reflection of her, in a way. Quiet, but hidden with secret truths.

“Take a look around,” Wong said, but you were already moving. Slowly and with intense focus, you circled the room, reaching out and feeling, not with your hands but with your mind.

Odd and powerful energy pervaded the room, muted by spells but still apparent to you. They were coming from the artifacts that were laid out, seemingly casually, on the shelves and desks.

Most of them seemed as plain and unimportant as the room itself. A cracked vase with the lip stained red. A golden helmet that was varnished and faded, but two glittering horns jutted from the temples. A knobby staff with a smooth, grey stone fixed at one end, as modest as any walking stick except for the melodic hum that emanated from the stone. You had a feeling neither Wong nor Bucky could hear it.

But despite all the weird, wonderful oddities in your reach, you were drawn elsewhere. You approached one corner of the room where lay a pile of old scrolls and their cloth wrappings, and moved them aside with care to reveal what was hidden underneath.

It was a sword hilt. Just the hilt. There was no blade, not even a piece of broken metal. The metal was dulled with time and flaked with rust, the pommel grey and dirty.

You reached out and hesitated. Fingertips inches away, something stopped you. The knowledge that once you took hold of the relic, everything would change.

You glanced over your shoulder at Bucky.

He was watching you with close attention, as was Wong, but when he caught your eye he gave a small smile of encouragement. He supported you, even though he had to know what this meant, or at least had a good idea of it.

Not every sorcerer found their relic within the Ancient One’s study.

Comfort and warmth, so strong it could only be described as love, flooded across the bond and washed away your fears. You returned his smile, even if it was shaky, and you held on to that feeling as you turned back to the hilt.

You closed the distance, wrapped your fingers around the relic, and lifted it.

It was surprisingly heavy; that was your only observation before it began. The hilt thrummed in your palm, vibrating so fast you nearly dropped it.

The rust flaked away from the metal, leaving it polished and silver. The grey pommel was shaken of its dirt, and you realized it was white bone, the metal wrapping around it to form the grip and crossguard.

The thrumming didn’t stop, but you couldn’t let go even if you wanted to. Your fingers seized around the metal, energy teeming up your hand and arm. When it reached your right shoulder, all the way up to your pentagram, the sigil burned in a way it hadn’t done since the ritual.

Bucky must have sensed your panic because he rushed forward, but you backed away from him fast, instinct screaming at you to put a safe distance between you now.

It was a good thing you had; the energy from your sigil exploded down your arm, through your hand, and into the hilt. A burst of red light shot outward, forcing you to turn away from the blinding beam.

When the light dimmed and you could see again, blinking away the after images, you stared at the sword. That’s what it was now. A glowing red blade, seemingly made entirely of light. The energy that came from it was purely of the demon realm, scorching and sulfuric.

“What…” You choked the words past your dry throat. “What is this?”

There were only a handful of times you’d ever seen Wong shocked. So, that was three powerful sorcerers you’d rendered speechless in the span of a day.

“The blade of Hell, or so it is spoken. None in the history of the order had been able to unlock its powers, rendering it anything more than a broken hilt.” He leveled you with a somber stare. “It is called Daemonio Vexatur. Which means—“

“—to become a demon.”

Wong raised a brow.

“Rough translation, but yes.”

“So, it’s a demon sword?” asked Bucky, eyeing the glowing blade. He was understandably wary, and honestly, was accepting what was happening better than you were. You were still stuck on the fact that you were holding a glowing-freaking-sword in your hand.

“Yes. And no,” Wong said in traditional teaching-fashion. “A demon cannot wield it, but it takes demonic energy to power.”

“Oh. So that’s why my sigil and my entire arm feel like they’re on fire.”

Bucky’s mouth opened and he took a step forward, protectiveness sizzling along the bond, and you gave him a hurried smile.

“Kidding. Sort of.” You smiled wider through your clenched teeth. “It is really uncomfortable.”

Bucky’s dark look told you he didn’t believe you, and with what you imagined was coming from your end of the bond, you didn’t blame him. Holding the sword was like holding on to a live wire that was also burning. There was a molten jolt connecting the hilt to your sigil, and you were just hoping to not get incinerated in the process.

And just like that, the connection was gone, and the relief of your arm no longer being on fire was dimmed by the disappointment as the sword was extinguished, leaving nothing more than a gleaming hilt.

“What happened?” You frowned, eyeing the relic as if searching for an on switch.

“It will take time and training to effectively control your relic.”

“How long?” You looked up when Wong didn’t answer immediately, catching the serious dent in his brow.

“It’s hard to say. No one in living memory has wielded the blade, and it was believed no one ever would.”

Wong gave a heavy sigh.

“So of course, you would be the one to wield it.”

You returned your gaze to the relic and turned over the hilt in your hand, admiring the metal and bone. You wondered if the bone was from a demon, a safe bet considering.

“So.” You carefully put down the hilt and turned to give Bucky your best serious face. “How does it feel to have a wizard girlfriend with a lightsaber?”

Wong rolled his eyes. He knew you well enough by now to know what you were doing, but he didn’t comment on your attempts to over your fear with humor. He muttered something about reporting to Strange as he left the office.

But Bucky…

Worry and fondness conflicted across the bond, struggling to coexist. He stepped forward, the green cloth tunic he’d found in one of the drawers of your room stretched unfairly tight across his chest. It was the largest he could find in a hurry, and it was nearly enough to distract you from your own anxieties.

“I think…” Bucky wrapped his arm around you, drawing you into an embrace that you melted into easily. “That I’m scared for you. I’m confused as hell what this means, and I’m guessing this isn’t going to make your life any easier or less complicated. But… I’m also proud of you.”

You could sense the pride easily, but Bucky was trying to bury the fear that was close to terror. He truly was scared of what this meant. You were too, and the Ancient One’s words weighed heavily on your shoulders.

There was a questioning feeling tugging at your thoughts, and you remembered too late that Bucky could sense the same anxiety, even if he didn’t have all the details. So you smoothed out your tumultuous thoughts and covered them the best way you knew how.

“You say that to all the wizard girlfriends.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“That is what swords do.”

Bucky pulled back far enough to stare at you with narrowed eyes, but when he touched his horns to yours it was with such gentleness that you nearly forgot to breathe. But breathe you did, drinking in his familiar, soothing scent and allowed the tension to drain from your muscle.

“We should head back.” Bucky said after a moment of intimate, comfortable silence in which you finally relaxed. “Got a bastard to catch.”

You reluctantly let go first, knowing he was right and you couldn’t stay here forever. Turning toward the sword hilt, you reached for it and paused. You took a small detour and picked up an old, ratty cloth nearby and carefully wrapped the relic within. Until you had a better grasp of how to wield the sword, it was probably a wiser idea to not handle it directly. You had no idea if it was sentient like Strange’s cloak, and it would be better not to accidentally set it off. Slicing off your own leg was a poor way to convince anyone that you were the next Ancient One.

On your journey back down the halls toward the portal door, Bucky said, “So… what are you going to name it?”

He smiled at your sideways glance.

“All cool swords get a name. It’s kind of a universal rule.”

Maybe you didn’t know Bucky as well as you thought you did, because you had no idea he was such a damn nerd.

“Yeah? You’ll have to bestow all your sword knowledge on me.”

“Is that a sexual innuendo?”

“It is now.”

Bucky’s smile died on his lips when you were no longer at his side. He paused and looked back where you had stopped at the threshold to the portal room.

“What if I can’t do this?” The doorway before you was no longer just a doorway. It was an insurmountable hurdle, and your feet wouldn’t budge from the floor. “What if I fail?”

Bucky approached slow and steady, his expression gentle and fond.

“You won’t. You’re too stubborn to fail.” A warm hand softly cupped your cheek, his human one, and you leaned into it. He laughed silently at your predictable need to be touched, but his expression faded into something more serious. “But on the very slim chance you do, then you get back up and you start again. Just as you always have.”

Your stomach fell. Bucky couldn’t understand what failure meant in your case. You didn’t even know what it meant, but you could guess. If you failed to be the Ancient One everyone needed… then there might not be any second chances.

Bucky wrapped you in his arms one more time, undoubtedly sensing his words of encouragement hadn’t hit as effectively as he’d wanted.

“Whatever this means, you finding that relic… Whatever happens when we find Zemo...” Bucky’s voice was deep in his chest, a rumbling sound that never failed to comfort you. “I’ll be here.”

You returned his embrace, gripping him tightly as you pressed your cheek against his chest.

“I know.”

And you did, too. Bucky would be there for you. Not because he was compelled to be, and not out of a sense of duty or guilt to protect you. He would be by your side by choice.

And that fact made Zemo’s escape, the Ancient One’s words, and your own self-doubt a little easier to bear. Because you and Bucky would weather it.

Together.

“When wounds are healed by love, the scars are beautiful.” –David Bowles

#branded #demon!bucky x reader #demon!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction

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krastbannert · 3 years ago

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smellershot children? how would they interact with the rest of the freedom fighters? If jet was alive, how would he be like to longshot and smellerbee getting together and starting a fam?

I only see them having one child, actually. Their lives were never easy, and they know the war's over (they helped it, helping a bunch of weird old people they didn't know liberate Ba Sing Se), but the scars of the past still stick to them. They just...really don't want their child(ren) to go through the same experience. So, they only have one kid of their own, but they do kinda become the unofficial parents of every orphan and street kid within a 5 mile radius of their home. There's always a hot meal and a place to sleep for kids who want it.

Their child's name is Jia, and she's practically a clone of Smellerbee (seriously, it's uncanny - it's like the universe hit Ctrl+C and Ctrl+V), except for her eyes: they're the same burning hazel - so bright it almost looks gold - as her father's. She's a firebender, like her father, and she's incredibly mischievous, always finding some way to get into trouble with her friends.

And the Freedom Fighters adore her. Jia is absolutely spoiled by her unofficial aunts and uncles. Whenever they come by Longshot and Smellerbee's place, it's a party, and Jia manages to make herself the center of attention every time. No one quite understands how she does it, but they don't mind. She is adorable, after all.

As for Jet - well, Jet's probably her favorite. He looked at her a little strangely for a while (she doesn't understand until she's older), but the grass-chewing guy who loves swinging from trees is just so much fun to be around. They get along famously, and it's always a special day whenever Uncle Jet comes around, whether it's to help work on the farm or just to say hi - which is fairly often, because Jet is still Longshot and Smellerbee's best friend.

And for some added angst: if Jet dies like in canon, then Jia still knows who he is. Longshot and Smellerbee tell him all about their best friend, about the boy who thought he could take on the world, who thought he could make a difference - and at least to Longshot, Smellerbee, and dozens of other kids, he did. He gave them a home, a family, and a fighting chance; that was more than anyone else ever did, and for that alone, they'll tell Jia every single story they have, as many times as she wants to hear them.

------

Feel free to send me asks about ATLA, TDP, or...anything, really.

#krast answers asks #anonymous #smellerbee #longshot #smellershot #jet #freedom fighters #atla

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writingfromkitchenator · 4 years ago

Text

Sirius ~ Ask Me

1,300 Followers Challenge!

Round 2

Masterlist

Requested by Anon

Words: 1,931

Warnings: Neutral Reader, neutral arsehole OC, fake dating, fluff, supportive Sirius, supportive friends, brief magic fight

“Sirius, can I talk to you for a second?”

Sirius, James, Remus and Peter looked up from dining table, finding you standing there, looking just a touch nervous. If it had been anyone else, one of them would've made some sort of comment, but this demeanour was so unlike you, they all knew better.

“Yeah, sure.” Sirius said, standing and grabbing a slice of toast.

A look of relief crossed your expression before you lead the way out. Behind you, James nudged Sirius, with a wink, and Sirius rolled his eyes at him, quickly following.

You led him away from the Great Hall and into the nearest classroom, quickly checking to make sure no one was around.

Inside, your anxious only seemed to increase.

Sirius threw what was left of his toast into the bin. “Are you alright Y/N? What's going on?”

You let out a shaky breath before meeting his gaze. “I just want to start this by saying, I'll completely understand if you say no.”

He blinks, pink tinging his cheeks a little, but he nods. “Okay...”

“I...” You sighed and wrapped your arms around yourself. “Look, you've probably heard that Robin has been asking me out for a while now?”

It was no secret. “A few times if I've heard correctly.”

You nod and start to pace the room. “I keep saying no, I'm not interested, but for whatever reason they have it in their head that that means they can keep on trying. It's getting to the point that I'm extremely uncomfortable and I don't know what else to do about this.”

“A good hex would sort them out.” Sirius said flatly.

“Yeah, and get me into trouble at the same time,” You frowned. “Do you know how much shit my parents would get at work if I did that? They work together, and they aren't easy to get along with at the best of times.”

Sirius frowns. “Okay, so what do you need me to do?”

Your hesitation was clear, and your hands wrung together a little. “As I said, you can say no, but it seems the only to get Robin to stop to show I'm already with someone else.”

He stares at you, trying to keep his expression blank. “You want to date me?”

“Unofficially,” You said quickly. “We just...pretend that we're dating. Just till Robin backs off.”

“Huh,” He said thoughtfully, still keeping his expression blank. “And why would you ask me this?”

“Because James is already dating Lily, and Peter and Remus can't act for shit.” You said. “You're the only one I trust with this Sirius.”

Sirius wasn't a fan of this, he knew it was probably a bad idea, but there was something about you saying you trusted him that made him chase all those other thoughts away. “Okay, I'll do it.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Just like that?”

He smiled. “Just like that. Although, do me a favour?”

You nod, still stunned.

“Don't tell Remus he can't act. He'll get most upset.”

The laughter felt good, and you shook your head, smiling. “Not a word.”

News went around the school like wild fire that you and Sirius were dating. Sirius Black, the local flirt, had finally settled in with someone. The two of you played along with it, but both of you were aware that there was a furious glare often sent your way.

After a particularly bad Potions lesson, Sirius caught up to you and wrapped a friendly arm around your shoulders. “You okay?”

“I'd be better if Robin hadn't been glaring daggers into my back all lesson.” You grumbled. “I have no idea how I got through that lesson.”

Sirius hums thoughtfully. “Well, how about we head to Hogsmead this weekend? Just the two of us.” He added quickly at your nervous look, knowing that you wanted to keep this as quiet as possible, it less likely to blow up in your faces then.

You sighed. “I don't know Sirius...it could bring more trouble.”

He gives your shoulders a squeeze. “That's what I'm here for. Everyone knows trouble is my middle name by now.”

It took a little bit more convincing, but after Transfiguration was no better, you agreed, just wanting to away from him.

The Three Broomsticks was relatively quiet considering how many students were out and about, but you certainly weren't complaining, relaxing as you sat in the chair next to Sirius. You couldn't even begin to put into words what this was all doing to you, but you more than grateful for Sirius' support.

“Thanks Sirius,” You said quietly, earning a surprised look from him. “I really did need this.”

He smiled. “No need to thank me Y/N. If that clod can't accept this, then there is something wrong.”

You sighed, leaning on yours hands. “I do wonder if Robin knows.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “How? I certainly haven't said anything, and I really doubt you have. We're the only two that know.”

“I don't know, it's just something about...” You trailed off and shook your head. “You're right. It's not possible.”

Sirius does a look around the pub and sees more than a few students that spoke a lot to Robin, a cheeky grin coming to him.

He nudges you gently. “You know, there is something we could do that would get tongues wagging.”

You looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

Sirius’ grin widens, and he sends you a wink. “We could make out.”

There was an awkward pause before you laughed, looking away shyly. “No, I don't want a kiss.”

Sirius chuckled. “You never know, you might like it.”

“While I'm sure your kissing is more than remarkable,” You said, purposefully looking at your drink. “It's not currently the most important thing on my mind.”

You felt him shift closer, his arm snaking around the back of your chair, his voice low. “Something else then?”

Laughing, you glance at him, finding him grinning. “You are terrible.”

Sirius shrugs, his smile not dropping as he moves comfortably back into his own. “I must have something going for me, or you wouldn't have asked otherwise.”

You smile at him, feeling genuinely happy, more than you had in a while. Then your smile dropped and Sirius quickly followed your gaze to the door.

Robin stepped inside.

“Oh, you've got to be kidding me.”

Robin strides over, looking smug. “So, this is the happy couple is it?”

“Why can't you just leave me alone?” You asked, annoyed. “I'm sure you have better things to do than plague my every step.”

“Oh, I do have better things to do,” Robin said, eyes on Sirius. “Including putting this bastard back in his place.”

“I'd like to see you try,” Sirius said lightly. “You aren't the only one with friends.”

Robin sneers. “Oh, you look all alone here, little Black, and if this is the only one to win Y/N over, then so be it.”

“No one is winning anyone over,” You said coldly. “Because I remain uninterested, no matter what you keep telling yourself.”

But Robin smirks. “Oh? You haven't heard? Little Black has been trying to earn your attentions here for a while. It may seem like his crush has worked, at least a little, but I wonder just how much dark magic was involved in it.”

“None.” You and Sirius both said, Sirius' face going a little pale.

“I'm here of my own volition,” You said. “And you better learn to respect that.”

Robin scoffed. “Like you would know anything about dark magic. We all know that you ride the coattails of everyone else in class.”

Heat flared in your cheeks, but you didn’t get a chance to respond as Sirius stands, his hands shaking.

“Says the one who’s only in some classes because Mummy and Daddy paid the school.”

Robin’s face went incredibly pale, very aware that several people were now looking over. “Like you would know anything about it. Why don’t you stick to your waste of space of a family in practising dark magic?”

Sirius reached for his wand, but he didn’t have to say anything, four spells hitting Robin at once, knocking them almost immediately out cold, several screams from other students sounding.

“I suggest the rest of you stay out of this,” James said, wand twirling in his fingers. “This prat had this coming. When someone says no, they mean it.”

Sirius stared at him, Remus and Peter next to him, slipping their own wands away. “What are you guys doing here?”

James grins and shrugs. “Seems like you needs a hand.” He nods at you. “Y/N too.”

Sirius frowns and looks at you, your wand still raised, breathing hard. He smiles and gently takes your hand, pushing your hand down. “I think you can put that down now. Pretty sure Robin won’t be getting up for a while.”

You swallowed and slowly slipped your wand away. “O-okay.”

“Hey,” Sirius brought your gaze to his. “You didn’t do anything wrong. That arsehole deserved it.”

“Damn right they did,” James was crouching next to Robin now, poking them with his wand. “We’ll get them out of sight for you, and don’t worry, we’ll take the fall from the teachers.”

Remus snorts, helping James pick up Robin as Peter moves and opens the door. “You mean I will offer an explanation that the teachers will mostly believe, but we’ll still all get detention. Again.”

James chuckles. “Come on Remus, you haven’t had a dull moment with us yet.”

You and Sirius watched them leave, Sirius letting out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “They are terrible. Can’t keep to themselves at all.”

“Does Remus really lie to the teachers that much?” You asked, watching as the rest of the students started going back to their drinks, as if not much had happened at all.

Sirius grins. “He is a much better actor than you give him credit for.”

You look at him, wanting to laugh, but still feeling in shock over it all, and not entirely sure what to process first. “So…you’ve liked me for a while huh?”

His grin falters and he rubs the back of his neck, pink flushing his cheeks. “I…well…maybe?”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” You frowned at him. “Why did you agree to help me?”

Sirius shrugs. “I never thought you’d ever like me back, and I agreed because you’re still my friend. My feelings aside, I didn’t like seeing you so uncomfortable and in trouble, and the fact that you trusted me enough to ask me…”

You stared at him for a long moment, Sirius carefully avoiding your gaze. Slowly, you rested your hand on his. “Ask me.”

He looked at you, frowning slightly. “What?”

“Ask me.” You gave a small smile. “Properly. Without the expectation of covering my arse from a douchebag.”

Sirius opened his mouth a few times, before his frown deepened. “Technically you asked me that.”

You giggled. “Well, now I’m giving you a chance.”

Slowly, his frown eased and he smiled, moving a little closer. “Y/N…would you like to go out with me? For real this time.”

Smiling shyly, you nod. “Yeah, yeah I would. I’m sorry I put you through this.”

Sirius chuckled, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Don’t be, I did agree, and if anything, we both learnt we can already play the couple really well.”

Giggling, you felt yourself relax into him, and while you were still worried about what the consequences of hexing Robin would be, with Sirius here, it all just felt a little bit better.

#1300 followers challenge #round 2 #harry potter #sirius black #sirius #Sirius Black x neutral reader #sirius x neutral reader #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader

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tots-insane-ee · 4 years ago

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How would the Warner’s react to having a friend that’s a child star around their age who is shy and has bad anxiety due to their over controlling parents but loves to go on zany adventures with them?

*cracks knuckles* Well let's see...

Also I went with the "actor reader" idea, hope you like it!

The Warners befriending a shy, child star reader would include:

Reminder: This is completely platonic and just pure fluff. Reader is gender-neutral and not species specific

Okay let’s start from the beginning, how you guys met

You enjoyed performing in front of your family, singing, recreating scenes from movies or cartoons you liked, but in front of your family only, since you were really insecure and shy. Your parents back then were really encouraging and supportive, and thanks to that you were able to take part in school plays… and that’s how your “career” started!

And before you knew it, your parents became your legitimate managers, you moved from town to town, getting roles after roles, losing touch with your friends, becoming famous while many agencies started looking for you.

That’s how you found yourself in Burbank, California. Well guess what, you have a contract with Warner Bros. now.

And as you were standing in the set, the spotlight shining down at you, many people watching, after months of repeatedly telling your mom and dad that you didn’t want any of this, you felt your anxieties get the better of you

You love acting, you really do, but this was too much

You started shaking and breathing heavily, not hearing your parents yelling your name. You felt dizzy and your heart was beating incredibly fast. It was so much, everything was too much and you just wanted to leave, but you couldn’t move at all.

AND THAT’S WHEN the Warner’s literally crashed the shooting

Needless to say, they kinda managed to drag you away by accident because of their shenanigans. And you had to realize that for the first time in forever, you had fun.

Surprise, surprise! The zany puppy children instantly liked you and wanted to be friends with you. (They really don’t interact with kids their age, huh) and the rest is history!!

Together:

They. Adore. You.

They don’t really interact with kids their age and adults always just shoo them away, so they just gonna be ecstatic about having somebody around who actually likes them

You are a child star? They think it’s so cool! You made a contract with Warner Bros. and plan on staying too? Poggers!!

Will follow you around in the beginning of your friendship. It’s either because they want to help, guide, protect or just hang out with you 24/7

“Excuse you, sir. I’m Y/n’s manager, I have all the rights to be here.” Dot would tell the director when the filming crew tried to send them away for the first time. “I’m their coach, it’s only given that I’m staying too.” Yakko added, draping his arm over your shoulder while grinning smugly at the director. Wakko just clings to your leg, not letting go

They’re basically your emotional support, and nobody has the guts to mess with them at this point

(They will legit ask for advice from Scratchy when it comes to your anxiety. These kids are so worried about you and just want to help ;-;)

So protective of you, not just because you are shy. You are their first real friend, and they would do anything for you

After some time you became more and more confident thanks to them, and a lot of producers noticed that too. A lot of people found you guys’ interactions adorable and marketable. The possibility of performing together with you in future installments make them so excited

They don’t like your parents, not even a bit, but they can’t really do anything too risky about this situation. What if they go too far with their pranks and your parents decide on leaving, taking you away as well? So they’re careful, but still messing with them. Passive aggressive bantering most of the time, just to intimidate them

But bold of you to assume they didn’t adopt you already. You are part of the fam now

They are just so sweet and supportive, bless them

Adventures and causing trouble with them in your free time, it’s the perfect bonding experience

Wakko:

This boy is low-key your biggest fan

Hell, you are his second favorite actor now (Sorry, nobody beats Don Knotts)

Would definitely accompany you to your shoots, cheering you on from the sidelines

Often visits you at breaks just to eat lunch together with you or to give you some comfort

He thinks your shyness is cute and just loves to chill with you in the backside while Yakko and Dot handles the “interaction with new people” business

Will gladly teach you how to play the piano, the drums and the violin

Really protective of you, will literally become your bodyguard, especially after hearing how your parents are

Will cuddle and watch some movies with you after a hard day. (Marathoning your movies/shows on the weekends? Absolutely, you can’t run from that one)

He’s just all around so excited for you, will always ask about your day and listen attentively

Once you get your free time, you better believe he will just take you by the hand, get Yakko and Dot, and all four of you ready to go, off to cause some mischief

This good puppy loves you so much. He just wants to spend more time with you while also wants to support you to reach your dreams

"You are so cool, Y/n! Can I have your autograph?" "Only if I can have yours" "Deal!"

Dot:

She respects you so much, let me tell you

Admires how hardworking and patient you are. She knows that she wouldn’t be able to handle people like your parents or a really uptight director the way you do

Someone says anything negative about you, they will be destroyed before they can finish their sentence

Binged watched all of your movies, knew about you before you actually met

She finds your shyness adorable, but would also try her best to help you break out of your shell and boost your confidence

After finding out how your parents mistreat you? Let’s just say… she made some adjustments about your contract

She’s now your unofficial manager and lawyer. “Don’t worry about it, hun! Just leave it all to me.”

Will absolutely scold you if you don’t take care of yourself

Will also prep you, do your makeup and hair, help you choosing you outfits when she comes along to your shoots

Whenever she sees news about you on the internet or gets a glimpse of you on TV she’s like “You are doing amazing sweetie”

She loves how much livelier you get when you go on adventures with them. It just shows how genuinely happy and goofy you are when you spend time together

Yakko:

Oh… Ohohoho, this guy, while not outright showing it, he is so glad to have you

We all know that he’s the biggest theater kid and drama queen there is. He also likes to perform, so now he finally has someone he can nerd out with (about musicals? theater? yes)

Just imagine him helping you with rehearsals, practicing your scripts, giving you vocal and dancing lessons and so much more

Would definitely love to be featured in movies with you and his siblings (or anything, really)

Loves how shy you are, would 100% tease you and compliment you a lot just to see your reactions, but also does his best to encourage you

When it comes to your parents, he’s really thinking about confronting them

On one hand: They are controlling jerks, but on the other hand: They are still YOUR parents

When you have told him about your anxiety his big brother instincts activated, but he also feels you. Even tho your fears are different from his, he tries his best to comfort you *by experience*. Frequently checks up on you during your shoots, and after you are finished he makes sure that you feel relaxed

Shenanigans around the movie lot, but will show you around Burbank with Wakko and Dot too

He’s so proud of you. Expect a lot of praises and compliments

"You're doing great, toots! You got this!"

#animaniacs #animaniacs 2020 #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #animaniacs headcanons #animaniacs and reader #ask #this is long #lmao #didn't realize sooner that child star didn't necessarily mean only child actor #oof #don't mind me #but like could you imagine actually performing with them #oh i wish #it would be so cool

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olivarryprompts · 3 years ago

Text

Fanfic Friday #7

Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I will post a new fanfic here and on A03. Enjoy x

Read and save it on A03 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/32577124

{the anatomy of caring}

Ships: minor stevetony, focused on Tony & Peter

Warnings: none, it’s just fluff :)

Wc: 2355

It was obvious to anyone who knew the two well. It was Steve and Tony, Iron Man and the Captain. It simply made sense. If the logic wasn’t enough, the two looked at home with one and another. They slipped together like puzzle pieces. Tony always helped Steve through the confusion of a new world, and Steve always knew just how to help Tony deal with the anxiety of their reality. They were the perfect couple, and they both knew that.

Then, the spiderling came along. Tony saw a mirror image of himself in Spiderman. A young, ambitious boy who had the curse and gift of superhuman powers. He defied death each day he swung between buildings, and Tony couldn’t help but be enthralled. He couldn’t help but figure out who the kid was (It was pretty easy to figure out it was a kid, considering he only showed up outside of school hours). Steve, knowing his lover so well, knew instantly how protective Tony felt over the kid he’d merely stalked on the internet.

So when Tony explained the plan to show up at Peter’s with the “Stark Internship” it was no surprise to the captain. To the rest of the team, who’d all moved into the tower, it was a complete shock. The fact that Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, wanted to help this kid hone his powers and skills.

“You,” Bruce said, “Want to help this kid..what? Be a superhero?” “Well, someone’s gotta,” Tony explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Someone has to?” Nat questioned. “He can’t go around swinging off rooftops and beating up bad guys without any training. Or backup.” “Correct me if I am wrong, but didn’t your idiot ass do that?” Sam questioned. “I was not a kid. And I had money, friends, people,” Tony wildly gesticulated. “I am beyond confused,” Nat laughed. “Same train as Romanoff,” Clint agreed. “Guys, this is not that hard. Come on. Let’s take this scenario. He ends up meeting some guys, and, instead of, say, winning, he loses. And either he dies, or gets badly injured. Who does he have? No one? He bleeds out. He’s a kid for fuck sake.” “Cap’s been awfully quiet,” Clint pointed out. “What? I knew this was coming days ago,” Steve explained with a smile, “I know my man. He wasn't just gonna let this kid get himself into trouble if he could do anything about it. Plus, Tony doesn’t keep tabs, he violently invades lives.” Tony shot him a look. “With love, invades with lots and lots of love,” he quickly fixes, flashing his million dollar smile at his boy. Tony just rolled his eyes and focused on addressing the group, “Look, I know it’s a lot, but I think it’s just what I have to do. And I own the tower, so, my choice,” he said with a hint of banter in his voice. Tony headed towards the elevator. “Where the hell are you going?” Sam asked. “The spiderling’s.”

Tony left before he could hear any of the exasperated responses. It was a fair drive down to Queen’s where the boy lived. He parked outside the small building, and he then climbed the seven flights of stairs to the apartment. He knocked on the door and greeted, “Hello, I’m Tony, Tony Stark.” He smiled his media smile, extending a hand towards May. “I-I know. Mr. Stark, hello, w-what are you doing here?” “Well, your nephew Peter applied for the Steptember Grant, and well, he got it,” Tony said, thrusting all the enthusiasm he could muster. He maintained his fabricated nonchalant, disregarding manner in most places. “Wow this is, this is incredible! Peter will be home any minute now. Come in, come in. Can I get you a drink?”

He was back at the tower, recapping his meeting with Peter to Cap. “-can you believe no one knows? Well, now it's knew. No one knew this kid was swinging around. And he got these powers with no one to help him through it, and god, it must have been awful. But, he’s good, Cap, he’s so good. He feels the need to help people, beyond just guilt. He’s, he’s-” “Tones,” Steve said, kissing his cheek, “Take a deep breath.” To be fair to the man, he hadn’t slept for at least 36 hours. With all that coffee in his system he had the right to be a bit uncomposed. The two were sitting at the breakfast bar, well Tony was sitting and Steve was behind it, cooking some eggs for the younger man. “I’m just glad I found him before he killed himself trying to save the world.” “Me too. How long has it been since you’ve slept?” “J?” “Sir, it has been 36 hours.“ “Tonyyyy,” Steve said, clearly disappointed. “Steveeee.” “I’m forcing you to bed.” “I have work to do. Plus it’s only eight o’clock.” “Eat then sleep, honey,” Steve said in that voice that you just didn’t ignore.

At first the “Stark Internship” started as Tony upgrading Peter’s suit, monitoring his patrols, and teaching how to fight. Well, Natasha taught him how to fight. After she offered, Tony was in no place to deny. It was overwhelming to Peter. He was being taught about tech with Tony Stark and being taught how to fight from the black widow.

For the first couple weeks, he was a nervous wreck in the tower. He’d hardly speak to anyone and only do and touch what he was told to. He’d change, head straight to the gym, and then Natasha would train him. At first, the training was silent, other than Nat’s coaching. Then, slowly, the two began talking. It started with Nat asking how he first got his power, then it moved to her first missions, and then suddenly Nat knew a lot about Peter. And Peter was one of the few people in the world who knew a lot about Natasha. “-so what, you fought alien robots sent by Thor’s brother?” “Yeah, that's about right. I had to get up to one of the buildings, so, with Cap’s shield as my trampoline, I launched myself onto one of their flying machines. Pretty fun time up there.” “Holy shit, that’s incredible. How’d you stop them?” Peter knew how the battle had gone down, afterall he’d been in New York during the attack, but it was something else hearing it from an actual Avenger. “Well, it was quite complicated. The scientist-” Nat reminded him to keep his wrist straight. He made the fix, and went back to punching the bag. She launched back into the tale,”The scientist, remember him, who Loki’d controlled woke up mid battle. He’d installed a death switch for the portal, but to access it we needed the scepter. But, the thing is, the government basically sent a nuke toward New York in an effort to contain the aliens, so Tony grabbed the nuke and aimed from inside of the portal and threw it at their main spacecraft. This turned off all of the alien tech. He was a he-” “Hey Kid, Nat. Please don’t tell me you're telling the New York story,” Tony said from the entrance. “Hi Mr. Stark.” Nat rolled her eyes, “I am telling the New York story. You were a he-” “Don’t say it. You almost done?” “I’ll call it. Good job today kid.” “Thanks.”

Similar to the gym, he’d become far more comfortable around Tony and in his lab. At first he’d sit silently, doing his work. Then he got used to Tony’s eccentric tendencies, he memorized the layout and where everything was, and he’d also been unofficially given a workspace. It became easier and easier to feel comfortable. The late night coffee and deep chats were simply a bonus. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, it felt like he had a father figure. It was nice.

One day, Tony was vibin’ to ACDC and chatting with Steve whilst working on Mock 50 of his new suit design when Peter showed up. Steve being in the lab was something Peter had also become accustomed to. “Jarvis, please get some good music on in here. Queen perhaps?” Peter requested. He did it to annoy Mr. Stark, and it did just that. “Hey kid,” Cap said. “Don’t “hey kid” him,” Mr. Stark said, faking anger, “Did you just insult my music? How dare you? I am revoking all Jarvis privileges.” Peter laughed alongside Cap. “Sir, you can’t do that. I quite like the kid, and the innovations he is creating require my attention.” “Why did I program you to have a goddamn personality?” Tony said, focusing back to his work, “And Jarvis, put the quality music back now.” “Anway, how was school?” Steve asked. “Good, yeah. The same really. We had another one of your “fitness” videos for class today. Real good,” Peter joked. “Oh god, please don’t tell me they really use those.” “They really use those,” Peter smiled, “I’m going for a shower. See you in a flash.” “Wrong superhero, kid,” Mr. Stark called. “Idiot,” Peter heard Cap mutter into the top of Mr. Stark’s head.

Upon returning, he noticed the absence of the team leader. “Where did Cap go?” “Actual work or something stupid like that.” Peter just smiled as he settled down at his workstation. He wanted to try out some new formulas for his web fluid. He’d had an idea in spanish class, and scribbled it down in his notebook. He fished for it in his backpack.

It was so easy. Too easy. And so so comfortable.

“Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

Peter had just finished sparring with Nat, and Tony, unusually, came up to the gym to “collect” him. He hadn’t done that for months. Mainly because Peter stopped coming straight down to Tony’s lab. Instead, he went to the kitchen and, mainly because Steve forced him, ate some food. He usually ended up in a random chat with Sam or Bucky. Occasionally he would catch Banner, and he’d end up in a different laboratory. He was always happy to learn about what the incredible doctor was up to. Sometimes, he was even able to provide a suggestion or two. Bruce always looked impressed by the boy. It made Peter smile.

Then he would actually make his way down to the lab, but not before trying to find Hawkeye. He'd wanted to learn some tricks with the bow and arrow. Somehow, Clint would be dragged into teaching Peter how to fire a bow once a week. At least. Clint pretended he minded through teasing and jokes, but realistically he loved hearing about the kid’s week. He’d always been good with kids. It became a running joke that Clint would let Peter know about all the tech upgrades he wanted, and then Peter’d report them to Tony. Most of the time Tony replied with something snarky like, “Tell the idiot he shouldn’t have picked a dumbass weapon like a bow and arrow,” or “do it yourself if you care that much.”

The Avengers Tower had become home just as much as his apartment in Queens was, and it was clear that Tony knew that. Hence the, “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.” He took the little Avenger to the elevator, hitting floor 80. He was a little confused given that floors 75-90 were all bedroom floors for the avengers or just spare bedrooms. “Mr. Stark-” “You’ll see, kid.” In reality, Tony was nervous. He and Steve decided a while back that Peter deserved his own space in the tower, but he had been scared that Peter wouldn’t like it. That he picked the wrong colours, or mattress, or well, anything.

The doors opened and there were two doors facing one another. Tony opened one of them with a key he pulled out of his black suit. The door opened and he was met by a beautiful and modern room. It had a huge bed and tv. There was a desk equipped with the latest stark Holographic technology. In the corner was a suit, specifically a spider suit. That is when it clicked. “Mr. Stark, is, is this all mine?” “Yeah kid, sorry if you don’t like anything. Cap and I did the best we could knowing what you like. And ye-” Peter cut him off with a hug, “thank you.” “Anything for you, kid. Just say the word. Want a tour?” Peter eagerly nodded. “Alright so that’s the bed, obviously. No more sleeping in the guest rooms or that couch in the worksho-” “You sleep ther-” “Don’t say that I sleep there, I am no role model for sleep schedules.” Peter just smiled. “This is a little workshop area I mocked up. You can’t really tinker up here, but do all the designing you want,” he pulled up the most recent project Peter was working on, “Then, just through there is the bathroom, a little lounge area over there and yeah, that’s all. Oh, there’s two mini fridges by the lounge area.” Just as Tony finished his explanation, Steve showed up. “Tones, you showed it to him without me,” Cap complained. “Sorry, babes, you took too long.” he turned around and placed a little kiss on his lips. “It’s fine. How do you like it Pete?” “It’s, it’s-” Peter couldn’t think of any words to describe how incredible it was to have a room at the Avengers Tower, but more importantly how incredible it was to have so many people looking out for him. Before he had just one, Aunt May. She is amazing, but he’d always longed for just a little more. Then, with the Avengers, he’d been given a lot more. They became his family. And now his home. “Thank you,” was all Peter could muster before falling onto the floor.

The two of them, now in each other's arms, just looked down fondly at the boy. “We did good,” Cap whispered. “We did good,” Tony agreed. They did good with more than just the room.

#avengers fanfic #basically peter being unofficially adopted by the avengers lol #irondad #peter parker #tony stark #stevetony #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #fanfiction #avengers #the avenger #found family

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dweetwise · 4 years ago

Text

a short one this time, ft. a lighthearted breakfast together <3

ship: felix x ace warnings: none word count: 2350

[previous] [next]

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire (part 4)

Ace had a pretty good feeling about this morning.

He'd tried to slip away gracefully to avoid the awkward morning after, but Felix had stopped him. In Ace’s opinion, getting in some silly chatter and morning cuddles was much preferable to a walk of shame before the sun was even fully up. At the very least, it beat going to his room to start the day with a shot of gin from the mini bar like he’d originally planned.

Felix had seemed much more relaxed this morning, though he was still awkward; at this point, Ace just accepted it as part of his charm.

Suggesting to get breakfast together was a spur-of-the-moment idea—as if Ace ever had any other ones. As soon as the opportunity to spend time with Felix in a casual setting where Ace didn’t smell like week-old-liquor presented itself, Ace took it, and Felix happily accepted.

Which is why Ace wasn’t really nervous when returning to his room to get more presentable. He even had time to start cleaning his messy room in preparation for Felix's visit for tonight, because after only a quick shower and even quicker internal debate between two different shirts, Ace was ready to go.

And from the way Felix's gaze immediately drops to said shirt, he seems to have made the right choice.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Ace offers with a grin, pleased with picking the navy blue button-up with a pineapple print.

It's cute how quickly Felix's nervous demeanor seems to calm down in Ace’s company. He goes from tense and running a hand through his hair to smiling in just a second, whatever he was fretting about momentarily forgotten.

“I was worried I'd be late,” Felix says, stepping into the elevator and coming to stand way closer to Ace than is appropriate.

But this time, they don't have an audience that would make it awkward.

“You really do worry way too much,” Ace offers with a carefree smile.

“I've been told that,” Felix smiles sheepishly, before his eyes are drawn downward, to the second button of Ace's shirt that he deliberately left unbuttoned.

Following suit, Ace lets his own gaze roam appreciatively over Felix's outfit, a sadly not as tight tee with a tasteful, open vest and snugly fitting washed denim jeans. His hair is loose and looks even softer than it was in the morning.

All in all, he looks extremely kissable.

“I like the look,” Ace says, meeting Felix's eyes. And if he tilts his head up in silent invitation, nobody can prove it.

“Me too,” Felix says, returning a small smile, before flustering. “I mean—your look. The outfit,” he explains.

And somehow, the awkward floundering makes him even more kissable.

Sadly, the elevator ride isn't infinite, and they arrive at the lobby floor before Ace can instigate a make-out session.

“Shall we?” Ace offers with a smile.

“After you,” Felix agrees, oh-so-polite.

They give their room numbers at the restaurant counter, and then are off to the breakfast hall that’s somewhat crowded despite the late hour. Ace isn't surprised that people decided to sleep in after the rude wake-up in the middle of the night, but the crowd does make it somewhat of an annoying experience.

Luckily, he has company to keep him entertained while they wait in line.

Felix trails after him, which Ace doesn't mind in the slightest, but it's only when the German stops in front of the cereal section and looks at him meaningfully that Ace cocks his head in confusion.

“You were supposed to help me pick,” Felix says, deadly serious.

Ace tries not to laugh that Felix seemed to take his earlier invitation literally. He really shouldn’t be surprised at the man’s quirks anymore.

And that's how Ace ends up improvising a three-minute lecture about why corn flakes are superior to muesli.

“I see,” Felix says, nodding in understanding, reaching for the cereal—

And choosing muesli.

“Hey!” Ace exclaims, mock offended. “Didn't you listen to any of what I just said?”

“Yes. I just don't agree,” Felix says, way too nonchalant, spooning the cereal onto his bowl. “I like this one better.”

“It has raisins!” Ace exclaims, flabbergasted.

“I like raisins,” Felix points out.

“Oh, babe,” Ace sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “And here I thought you had taste.”

Ace quickly peeks back up at Felix, needing to make sure he didn't take the joke personally.

“Shut up,” Felix snorts, elbowing Ace. “Come on, let's go argue about juice next.”

After a brief conversation about juice ("Who the hell drinks apple juice!?" "I don't like the texture of orange pulp") followed by going through the rest of the breakfast selection together, Ace discovers that Felix is an incredibly picky eater.

When they sit down at a table, the difference between his and Felix's servings is hilariously prominent.

Felix's plate holds two pieces of toast, a fried egg and some sliced fruit, compared to Ace's overflowing plate featuring 90 % of the entire breakfast selection.

Usually Ace wouldn’t care about other people’s eating habits, but the knowledge makes him a little nervous about their dinner.

“Really adventurous with the white toast, I see,” Ace teases.

“At least I don't have bacon with pancakes,” Felix shoots back.

“I ran out of room on my plate!” Ace protests, but Felix only smirks behind his cup of coffee. “So, what kind of food do you like?” Ace prods, digging into his meal.

“I don't really have a preference,” Felix says diplomatically.

But Ace can smell the bullshit a mile away.

“Really?” Ace asks, raising an eyebrow. “So you wouldn't mind if I picked the place for dinner tonight?" he teases, only to realize something. “Uh… we're still on for that, right?”

“I hope so,” Felix says, smiling bashfully.

"Good, just checking!" Ace grins. "Well, since you're not picky… how about a Mexican place? What about sushi? Or an oyster bar?”

Predictably, Felix cringes at his suggestions.

“I'm… not great with spices or raw fish,” Felix admits.

“Or?” Ace pushes.

“Steak, shrimp, mushrooms, tofu, kebab, or greasy food in general,” Felix lists and Ace tries not to look too confused at how someone can so nonchalantly rule out entire food groups.

“What about Italian?” Ace asks.

“I don't like pizza, either,” Felix says apologetically.

“I'm not taking you to a pizza place for a first date!" Ace protests, while simultaneously trying to figure out how someone can not like pizza. "I was wondering how you feel about pasta or risotto?”

“That…” Felix considers. “Actually sounds nice.”

“Italian it is!” Ace grins victoriously. “I'll find a nice restaurant, just leave it to me.”

“Alright,” Felix says with a small smile.

“Now…” Ace says, realizing he's been running his mouth instead of actually eating. “Excuse me while I stuff my mouth with bacon pancakes.”

Felix huffs out a quiet laugh before following his example.

They eat in silence, or as much relative silence as a bustling dining hall allows. Ace does his best to not eat like a pig, feeling Felix’s stare on him as the other sneaks glances. After not having had any food for 24 hours, Ace is kind of surprised he didn't pass out in the parking lot, especially after the bright idea to have a few drinks on an empty stomach.

“So, how…” Ace trails off mid-sentence as he suddenly notices a couple of pigtails sticking up right beside him, narrowly missing the kid’s head when he reaches for his coffee.

“Good morning!” the kid, a little girl, beams up at him.

“Uh, hey there,” Ace says, a little taken aback at why this random child is approaching him.

“Hello,” Felix jumps into the conversation, getting the girl’s attention. “We meet again.”

Ace shoots Felix a weird look; does he know the kid?

“Did you remember to give him your number?” the girl asks Felix, tilting her head in curiosity.

A grin spreads over Ace’s face in realization, while Felix only clears his throat self-consciously. Ace didn’t really pay much attention to their company in the elevator last night, but the girl clearly remembers them.

“He did, yeah,” Ace says, shooting Felix a smug look over the table.

“Good,” the girl huffs, before turning back to Felix. “You need to stop being so forgetful, mister!” she accuses, hands on her hips.

Ace bites his lip to stop from chuckling as Felix flounders for an excuse to this sassy eight-year-old.

“You’re right,” Felix settles on. “It was silly of me, I’ll try to do better.”

While Felix is talking, the kid seems to get distracted, standing up on her tiptoes to peer into Felix’s now empty cereal bowl.

“What did you eat?” the girl asks, like a typical nosey kid.

“I had some yogurt with muesli,” Felix explains, way more patient than Ace would be in his situation.

“Do you like Froot Loops?” the kid asks.

As Felix calmly explains that the cereal in question isn’t his favorite, Ace starts discreetly scanning the room for the girl’s mother. He tolerates kids just fine, but he’d rather not have one ruin his unofficial date with Felix. Hopefully, the girl isn’t lost or something—

“There you are!” a woman appears from the crowd and gives the kid an exasperated look, Ace distantly recognizing her from the elevator last night.

“Hi mom!” the girl interrupts her cereal debate with Felix to greet the woman.

“I’m so sorry, I swear she was right behind me a second ago—” the woman glances at Ace and Felix apologetically, steering her daughter away with a hand on her small shoulders.

“No worries,” Ace defuses with a smile. “Kids, huh?”

“Always getting into trouble,” the woman agrees with a sigh, grabbing the girl’s hand. “Come on now, let’s go back to our table.”

“Bye, misters!” the girl calls.

“Goodbye,” Felix offers, and even Ace forces a smile and wave as the pair disappear into the rush of the dining hall.

“So, you got any kids?” Ace asks, having noticed how patient Felix was with the girl.

“No, I… maybe in another life,” Felix says, sounding melancholy, and Ace realizes there's probably more to that story. “Um. You?” Felix asks, clearly not wanting to elaborate.

“Nah,” Ace says. “I have a niece, though. She's a real demon. Great kid.”

“That sounds accurate,” Felix says, smiling. And somehow, Ace gets the overwhelming feeling Felix would be a great dad. “At least she has an interesting uncle.”

“Oh, you don't know the half of it!” Ace grins, taking the opportunity to tell Felix about some of his more memorable moments with his niece.

All too soon, they finish the last of their breakfasts and Ace offers to walk Felix to his room.

“Thanks for the company,” Ace says when they’re coming up to Felix’s door.

“You as well,” Felix says.

“See you tonight?”

“I'll call you,” Felix promises. “I should be available around five."

“Can't wait,” Ace grins.

Felix turns to his door, but then almost instantly whips back around to face Ace. His gaze flicks obviously to Ace's lips as he swallows.

“I have an hour before I need to leave for my meeting,” Felix says. “If you want…”

Ace's gut flutters at the implications, but then he remembers he has things to do. Though he'd much rather make out with Felix than go find a fence or shady pawn shop that will buy his shit, now is not the time.

“Sorry babe, I've got some errands to run,” Ace says good-naturedly, pretending not to see how Felix deflates in disappointment.

“I see,” Felix says.

“I'll make it up to you later,” Ace promises.

“It's okay, I should prepare for my presentation anyway,” Felix says, and upon the mention of his work, instantly seems more tense.

“Well, good luck with your work thingy. I'll be waiting to hear from you!” Ace says with fake cheer.

“Right,” Felix says, reaching for his door. “See you later.”

When the door closes in front of his face, Ace can practically feel the anxiety radiating from within the room. Ace really has his hands full, if he's going to get the guy to relax and forget about his work like he promised.

In the next thirty minutes, Ace ends up turning his own hotel room upside down while he scours it for valuables. He finds the watch he was looking for, as well as an earring behind the headboard, and some spare poker chips in one of his jacket's pockets.

He can’t help but smirk as he runs his fingers over the poker chips; it looks like destiny is trying to point him in the direction of the casino after all. And who is he to deny fate? After all, it's what brought him this far.

Ace thinks back to a couple months ago, where he—or well, his alias, Diego Sanchez—had still been living a somewhat stable life. Over the course of a year, he’d managed to pick up a few part-time jobs to fund poker tournaments and talk himself into more than a couple of loans. But as with most things, Ace had gotten too cocky, and his associates had figured out he wouldn’t be able to pay back the debts he owed.

At this point, uprooting his life and starting over was something Ace was very familiar with. For the last few weeks, he’d been motel-hopping across the country, having shaken the debt collectors off his trail while he tried to figure out the next place to settle down—at least for a little while.

Meeting Felix was just the kind of morale boost he needed right now. Even as Ace opens his wallet and finds a whopping two dollars among the handful of stolen credit cards, he knows he’s going to be okay.

He grabs his things and throws on a blazer along with shades and a hat; even if he should be safe, it doesn't hurt to protect his identity.

Finally, he heads out into the city, with an agenda of restaurant, pawn shop, and casino.

#riconti #ace visconti #felix richter #dbd fanfic #dweetwrites #dbd #dead by daylight #felix x ace

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weaselbeaselpants · 4 years ago

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I have a lot to say and not enough time to say it. It hurts, but ya’ll know what this is about so if you want my full fandom retrospective opinion thing guys, here.

I’ve been following Vivienne’s art and career since I found her on dA in 2009. I’ve basically grown up with her and have a wide range of opinions up and down her collective work. I must stress that I do not know her as a person and no matter how critical I get in my personal time if I somehow met her in real life or converse with her online again (like, back in the day we went back and forth. She was pretty nice to me), I’d be humble and congratulate her for her success.

Critique does not, EVER equate to attacking people.

But

the reason I don’t call myself a VivziePopVivzmind-fan is the exact same as to why I don’t like the proud use of ‘anti’. Let me try and explain -

The vast majority of Viv fans are just that: fans. Viv’s one of their favorite artists and they’re happy for her and obviously defensive when some mouth breather pops into their fan discussion calling her and all of them trash. Quite a lot of the Hazbin fans I know in my circle of friends are all pretty accepting and agree on the problematic notions and implications of her work.

HOWEVER, there’s a vocal minority in the VivziePop fandom that were and still are toxic. Their specific interest in Viv back in the day was toxic...and now that she’s moved on into a successful career I doubt they’ve gone away, considering the things I’ve heard. These people - they’d flood Viv’s comments sections and stuff with messages like they were talking to her when they weren’t and they’d unironically call her a god in a way that feels like gaslighting, ex: “I’ll NEVER be as good as you Viv! My art is just sooooo unpopular oh god you are incredible no one will ever like you as much as meeeee”. It made me uncomfortable. It made me not want to be around her because these people took Viv’s role in their lives so seriously and their demand for her attention...it struck a nerve.

These same fans have been around long enough to see actual shitlords - the likes of Kiwifarms and tapatalk wikis - come in and actually harass Viv. Viv’s been sent revenge porn by sick freaks who think they’re funny and believe she deserves it. No. In my non-name fan bystander opinion, Viv’s got some shit to work on, but no one deserves raperevenge porn. EVER. It was genuinely bad and yes Viv and her base have every reason to NOT TRUST these communities. Unfortunately, when these incidents happened, these particular fans took it upon themselves to gatekeep the fandom and act like Viv’s unofficial guard against any kind of decenting opinion of her, all without her say so.

((to the critics who will be all “but Viv or Faust said THIS to their fans-”, like I said, Viv’s far from perfect but regardless of how much she prolly wanted people to side with her I’m gonna guess that she didn’t want people sending transphobic death threats to DollCreep. Again, and this is coming from a bystander here, I have a feeling Viv knows about some of the toxicity but doesn’t know how/want to address it - which is a conversation all it’s own.))

This particular breed of VivziePop “fan” holds so much toxicity in her fandom(s). They aren’t the only cause, but they’re there. They feel entitled to her attention and her approval. They creep me out. Having spoken to other much-less critical admitted fans of Viv around me, these fans appear to creep everyone else out and put the rest of the fandom on edge. They’re gatekeepers. They’re creeps. Like the bronies and SU fans of yestertodayyears, they know harassment exists and that people have crossed the line - so they think any means is necessary to prevent that is automatically good. I could pile together all the incidents and folks who’ve had bad runs ins with this aftershock of Viv-obsession, but I do have a life of my own and this post is already stupid long so I’ll just list out the biggest examples and provide receipts when asked.

Critical blogs have gotten RAPE and death threats because they don’t like Viv’s art. HonestZoophobiaCriticisms, a blog I interracted with back in the day, def got one. Now Viv’s opinion of crit-blogs is that they’re “bad takes” but I can assure you she doesn’t want that shit being said on her behalf.

I’ve seen young artists get blacklisted from sites and forums cause they so much as post a redesign. Viv and co get told through the grapevine that someone’s making hatespeech and so preemptively block said person (prolly cause they’re in the middle of WORKING and can’t deal right now) only to find out after the fact that no, it was just a kid drawing their version of her characters. There’s serious miscommunication issues within the fandom about who’s ‘good’ or ‘bad’ and once you get the actual staff involved in this game of telephone you’re begging for trouble. The problem acknowledged, however, it’s souly from the “Viv never did anything wrong camp”. No word is said about how ugly the fandom is under the surface it’s all one type of person’s fault and not complicated’. Blah

I’ve only ever had ONE obsessive ‘fan’ who’d stalk me, mock me, and then redraw my art just to get attention from me. That shit fucked with my head. As a follower hundreds of miles away from Viv who’s agreed/disagreed with her through the years - I absolutely believe her when she says she hates ‘creeps’ and that she doesn’t want anyone in her fandom spreading hate on her behalf. It’s the one thing about her I’m POSITIVELY sure of. Whether she believes that said underlying harassment exists and/or is even a problem within her fandoms is anyone’s guess. That’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to write stupid blog entries like this, talk about fandoms and media and how they and the real world affect one another, and rb fan art I like. I’m cautiously optimistic fan with a side of salt.

Mixed opinions and critique within a fandom CAN and SHOULD exist. Hazbin Hotel has been greenlit by a studio! It has a product line of merchandise you buy. Helluva Boss is getting eight more episodes this coming year (yeeee:3yeeee). Two of Viv’s properties are now products. Nothing is immune from critique. And in critique you will find a lot of people who are not ‘nice’. Critique or analysis doesn’t have to be nice. There will be, in Viv’s words’ ‘bad takes’ on her writing. Maybe they will be actual CinemaSins-styled bad takes or maybe Viv is just mad that people don’t love and feel inspired by her characters the way she wants them to - it’s a fact she’s going to have to get used to.

((TBH, I’m pretty sure she’s already realized that criticism of all types need to exist. It’s just that, again, her and the SpindleHorse staff are kind of overwhelmed by all matter of takes and opinions coming their way they kinda can’t deal weeding out the fair ones from the assholes, so she lumps them all together.))

Shitposters, ironic fans, unironic fans, critical fans, just critics of Hazbin and Helluva CAN and WILL exist. They should exist and not feel threatened by the megafandom. There are people out there who are one step further and rightfully bothered by Hazbin/Helluva’s use of incorrect symbols, portrayal of certain topics, and the response by creators. These people have strong opinions and are actually disgusted by Viv. They deserve to exist too and should not be vilified because, like me, they’re commentary doesn’t consist of anything personal towards the people at Spindlehorse or the fans of her works. They can rant, they can be professional, they can be petty and they can be fair. But they will exist. You have to deal with it.

I am an ADD/OCD ridden autistic woman with serious anxiety issues who has no one to talk to half the time and so only HAS my fandom to communicate with. But that’s just it - it’s a fandom. A community. You have to learn to not think souly of yourself and of others in a community. A fandom doesn’t exist just for you or any one person. You have the right to be angry and defend or be offended. And it’s in the spirit of that that I ask, prrraaaaaay even, that I please

NOT BE CALLED AN “ANTI-ANTI” for not liking the moniker?!

I DON’T TO BE AN “ANTI”. Not ironically, not unironically. ‘Anti’ should be for politics and shit like pedophiles, necrophiles, nazis, serial killer stans, Trump, racists, antisemites, terfs, animal abusers, rapists, and antivaxxers. Anti should only come into critical media analysis when these ethical issues follow suit IN TO fandom discussion. ((EX: Anime and MLP proudly waving their cp and non-con into the public eye; Hazbin appropriating cultural symbols which are not satanic; Basically anything that concerns John K or Butch Hartman.))

If your DNI list unironically consists of the entirety of one fandom: CONGLATURATIONS! You have done the exact same thing these particular creepy Viv fans have done: monopolize the conversation. And yes, people I’m referring to, IT’S STILL A PROBLEM EVEN IF YOU’RE FIGHTING RACISM/SEXISM/HOMOTRANSPHOBIA.

There are hundreds of Vivziefans who ARE more critical, accepting of faults, interested in discussion and especially rewrite and redesign stuff who would LOVE to engage with you and give you a follow. There’s hundreds of people who no doubt agree with you!

But the thing I’ve seen these very proud AntiHazbinVivzieHelluvaWhatever blogs do is lash out at fans for continuing to like Viv and consume Viv’s art in a healthy way. What the actual fuck is your problem?

I get it. Say a crazy Hazbin fan gets on your case for even SUGGESTING Viv could be homophobic ((”SHE’SBIANDWORKSWITHGAYPPLblahablahblah”)). They get in your face, make some callouts, try to rile up support against you, leave disgusting harassment throughout your social media? Absolutely ban worthy. After that it’s perfectly understandable why you don’t want to engage with anything HHHBZPVivzierelated because you’re so fucking tired of being labeled an abuser or “just jealous” for having an opinion on a show you don’t like. I’m with you!

But,

A fan agrees that something in the canon is bad or that Viv did something they don’t like?

A fan likes your silly shitpost meme?

A fan asks if they can like Hazbin and follow you at the same time?

A fan does fan art of something you don’t like?

If your response to any of these ^^^ things is to get LOUD and accusatory, Vivsplain them about how they’re an absolutely awful person to ever question YOUR opinion, or just block them without a second thought? You’re a petty, vendictive shit and you also need to learn to let things go. I’m sorry but you do. As I already said, Viv’s work is a brand at this point, not just the work of a singular person. As such, there are gonna be mixed opinions and you can’t judge every single one of these people by what they like. You’re a shitty critic with a shitty attitude and yes that will demean the value of what you’re saying. This is bad because, if you’re trying to point out how Angel Dust’s abuse IS handled terribly; gay rep in Viv’s work is weak and terrible; the show appropriates closed practices; the fandom makes excuses for predatory artists and creepy behavior and individuals who have sketchy pasts - I’M WITH YOU. WE NEED TO BE TALKING ABOUT THIS SHIT. JUST BECAUSE THESE ARE ADULT CARTOONS SET IN HELL MEANS THERE SHOULD BE ANYTHING CLOSE TO 2013 PONY-TUMBLR. <<<---- this shit is as important to me as it is to you and I really don’t like being called an abuser or apologist for saying “hey maybe blowing up at ppl for the shows they like ISN’T the way to go about this”.

But I have, just like the good old days of 2015 Zoophobia of yore, been blocked because I admit to being tired of ‘Anti’ being equated to ‘critical’. Same with hater.

Critical DOES NOT = Anti+Hater. I’m fucking tired of people saying it does and I’m tired of people taking up the term as some weird form of fandom reappropriation. It’s stupid.

Tl;dr: Once upon a time, I was in a budding fandom for something I liked made by an indie artist I watched on dA. I wanted to be a bigger fan than I was already, but was told by toxic people within said fandom that I couldn’t be part of it for reasons they’d made up in their head about my ‘motives’ against Viv. My admiration for Viv or what I liked about Zoophobia didn’t matter because I thought the story was really rushed and people weren’t being truthful with how they really felt about it - ergo, I HAD TO GO.

Flash forward 8 years later- My opinion of Viv’s body of work has changed but I still find myself in love with her style and some of her characters. I want to be on a forum or service that gives a healthy look at the problems there are with this series and fandom...and I’m met repeatedly by petty bs where people are again at each other’s throats. And yes, I do think it’s causing more harm than good especially when you insist there’s a “x person shouldn’t be trusted” mentality when fighting actual fucking racist, xenophobic, predatory bullshit.

#vivziepop #vivziepop critical #vivziepop drama #hazbin hotel #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel critical #critical hazbin hotel #anti anti #antis #anti hazbin hotel #cause I want both sides of this debaucle to see this and I'm tired #K?

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nekojitachan · 4 years ago

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Hmm, slowly working on Casts a Shadow ch8 while trying not to be distracted by the MDZS fic (so many ideas!). Trying to decide to post the next CAS chapter or upload the Raven!Andrew soulmate fic this weekend.

Either way, here’s a sneak peek at ch2 of CAS. Warning for the Nest, and dealing with sexual harassment in a... removing parts way.

*******

“You are such a speedy little demon; we should put a bell on you so we can at least keep track of you on the court,” Kari complained while she tousled Nathaniel’s hair. He grimaced at the affectionate gesture but allowed it since the offensive dealer was one of Natalie’s friends.

“You’re gonna give your mark fits once you’re an official Raven.” Octavia frowned as she handed over her apple. “We need to bulk you up some more by then.”

“He just burns it off,” Natalie said as she gave Nathaniel a slight nudge in the side. “This one seems built for running. Maybe he should be a striker or a dealer.”

“I like running,” Nathaniel mumbled after he swallowed a bite of apple; it was crisp and tart, just how he liked them. “And I do fine as a backliner.” He certainly had no problem blocking Riko and Kevin.

The three young women agreed and commented that lack of size didn’t equate to lack of toughness; Octavia and Kari were two of the newer Ravens, both sophomores, and among the few women on the team.

The Ravens – or at least some of them – had stopped being so standoffish with Nathaniel and Natalie in the last few weeks. Part of it had been them noticing the split (such as it was) between the two of them and Riko and Kevin (the ‘heirs’ of Exy), and part of it had been when John, an asshole freshman striker, had heard about Natalie’s sixteenth birthday and thought it a great idea to ask her if she was now ‘ready for some fun’.

Natalie had immediately pulled a knife on him and asked if he was ‘ready to live life as a eunuch’, while Nathaniel told her to leave him his balls and go for his dick instead.

For some reason, that had endeared the handful of women Ravens to them, and earned them the respect of some of the men. It also meant that Nathaniel had to put up with people messing with his hair and teasing him about his height (more the lack of it), about them being ‘asked’ to fetch drinks, snacks or other items during their downtime… but no one tried to hurt them.

(Other than Tetsuji when they messed up drills or practice, or Riko with his tricks out on court, but that didn’t count.)

Nathaniel supposed he could put up with becoming the Ravens’ ‘unofficial’ mascot when it made Natalie smile and got him extra fruit.

After lunch, everyone returned to their rooms or one of the common areas to study during the short time before the final practice of the day; Nathaniel and Natalie usually went to her room to do their homework together. They passed Riko and Kevin in the hallway since their rooms were nearby, and of course Riko couldn’t resist getting a taunt in while passing.

“Ooh, what class is it today? Reading for dummies?” He laughed at the pathetic joke while Kevin gave them an apologetic look; long used to the asshole’s antagonistic behavior, Nathaniel and his sister simply ignored him (which they knew would affect him the most).

For once, Riko left the insults at that, which was a surprise; he enjoyed taunting Natalie over the fact that, despite her being sixteen, she wasn’t that far past Riko and Kevin in academics since she’d dropped out of school after joining the Bloodhounds. She’d done an incredible job catching up while living in Baltimore, but Tetsuji’s intense training regime didn’t leave her much opportunity to study ahead so there was talk of holding her back at least a year, probably two, which would grant her more time to work on her Exy skills.

(Perhaps it was selfish of him, but Nathaniel wouldn’t complain about having Natalie around the Nest longer.)

They didn’t say anything until they were in Natalie’s room. “He’s been a bit odd lately,” she said as she fetched her laptop.

(There was no question about who ‘he’ was.)

“He’s an asshole,” Nathaniel muttered as he dug through his bag for his own laptop. “What’s odd about that?”

“It’s just….” Her brows drew together as she stared at the device’s blank screen then shook her head as she powered it on. “He was so angry when he found out about us swearing to Ichirou, but the last few days he’s been less antagonistic.” At Nathaniel’s dubious look, she rolled her eyes. “For an asshole.”

“Maybe he’s plotting something,” Nathaniel suggested as he logged on to his online classes. “Maybe he thinks he’s figured out something so much better than messing with our beds in that little asshole snake brain of his.”

Natalie smiled as she bumped into his left shoulder. “Tell me how you really feel about him.”

Like he needed an excuse. “He’s an asshole snake of a bastard who-“

His sister cut him off by smacking him lightly over the head with a pillow. “I think I get it!” When he batted the pillow aside and glared, Natalie grinned and pointed at his laptop. “Show some of that creativity for the essay you have to write for English.”

“School sucks almost as much as Riko,” he grumbled as he clicked on the mentioned assignment. “Hey, I’ll do your math if you-“

“No,” Natalie said, smile gone as she focused on her own lesson plan. “You need to learn more than math, Ram.”

“Why, when we’ll be playing Exy and doing stuff for Ichirou.” He narrowed his eyes when he spotted his latest reading assignment. “We gonna debate Pride and Prejudice while slitting some guy’s throat?”

“Perhaps,” she mused while she typed something. “You never know what triggers some people. Might be the thought of figuring out a calculus problem or they’ll lose a finger, or hearing the breakdown of War and Peace’s plot.”

Nathaniel gave his sister an intent look for several seconds. “You’re terrifying, you know.”

Natalie’s special smile returned, the one which she mostly reserved for him, the one that brought out the dimple in her right cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He resumed lying down next to her and forced himself to start on the detested essay. “Hey, why do people hate math so much?” he asked after a few minutes.

“Hmm, not sure, maybe because it doesn’t come to them as easily as it does you. Just like how you pick up languages.” She flashed the special smile again. “But not essay writing.”

“That’s for you to do.”

She hummed in pleasure and stroked a hand over his hair in agreement.

They studied for the rest of the hour (Natalie corrected his essay once he had it written, and he checked her math – they still covered each other like that), then they got ready for the last practice of the day.

There had been some uncomfortable stares from the Ravens when Nathaniel had first changed with them, as they took in the knife and burn scars on his chest and back, but now they no longer paid attention to them. Instead, they teased each other about who would score the most points or rack up the most blocks, then took turns rubbing Nathaniel’s head on the way out to court.

“Why?” he demanded to know as he fended off Gerry’s hand.

“For good luck of course!” the older backliner declared with a laugh, while his partner, Liam, nodded in agreement.

“Your fault for being a redhead, Nat,” Omar called out while he tugged on his gloves. “And so adorable. You should-oof.” He stumbled as Riko ‘accidentally’ swung his helmet at the junior striker while he stormed out of the locker room, a quiet Kevin ever his shadow.

“Spoiled little brat,” Omar muttered as he rubbed his ribs, a sentiment that was echoed by a few other Ravens; Nathaniel wisely kept his opinion to himself (even if it was much the same). He might badmouth Riko to his sister all the time, but they were still Moriyama property even if they now answered to Ichirou and not Tetsuji.

Tetsuji had Nathaniel, Natalie, Kevin and Riko work on drills while the official Ravens warmed up, then scrimmage together for a while. Nathaniel enjoyed the matches because even if Riko was an asshole who always used excessive force against him (which Tetsuji ignored), he was a talented asshole, along with Kevin (who wasn’t as much an asshole as Riko’s toady).

When it was time for them to stop and join in with the Ravens, Tetsuji ordered Nathaniel and Natalie to go back to working on drills; Riko smirked at them as he and Kevin left to join the older players. Nathaniel opened his mouth to complain about being deprived of scrimmage time, except Matsumoto offered to call out drills for them.

Tetsuji nodded in approval while Nakamori and Akagi fell in step behind the ‘Master’; normally, Nathaniel was uneasy around older men (especially ones his father’s age), but Matsumoto was in his early sixties, possessed a quiet voice and kept his hands to himself.

He was also very pragmatic and while he might be one of Tetsuji’s assistant coaches, he realized that ‘the Master’ and his grand Castle Evermore only existed with the main branch’s blessing. That meant he often passed along useful bits of information to Nathaniel and his sister.

They spent half an hour going through the eight Ravens drills (which they’d perfected) in the random order Matsumoto called out, knocking down cones again and again. It was while Nathaniel was setting up the cones yet again that he caught Matsumoto leaning toward Natalie and whispering something in her ear.

He had to wait until after dinner to find out what it was; Natalie joined him in his room. “It seems that someone owes a debt to Kengo, and the only way he can pay it back is to offer up his son, who plays Exy very well,” she explained in French.

For a moment, Nathaniel felt an intense wave of anger at the thought of another kid being sold to the Moriyamas, of having a father like his, before he shoved the thoughts aside. He jumped a little when Natalie gave a gentle touch to his left cheek (scrubbed clean for the night of the stupid ‘3’ which Riko insisted he bear). “I think it’s why Riko’s been acting up lately. Matsumoto said that he overheard Tetsuji telling Riko that you’re getting a partner, so he probably knows about the kid’s background.”

Nathaniel huffed as he rubbed his sore ribs, the ones which Riko had smacked with his racquet earlier in the day. “Knowing the asshole snake, he’s probably expecting a new ‘toy’ to play with.” One his big brother wouldn’t snatch away this time.

“Perhaps.” Natalie didn’t appear pleased with the thought, but there wasn’t much they could do about Riko’s personality worsening by the month. “Come, time to practice.”

“Slave driver,” Nathaniel groaned even as he climbed off his bed and slipped free the knife he kept sheathed on his left ankle at all times; he figured the sooner he suffered through their nightly fighting practice, the sooner he could sleep.

More like pass out on his bed, by the time they were done.

Jean Moreau arrived two days later, a young Frenchman around Kevin’s and Riko’s age, with black hair, grey eyes, and a massive attitude problem. He glared down his nose (of course he was taller than Nathaniel) at everyone but the adults while Tetsuji introduced him to the rest of the ‘Perfect Court’ (as Riko had dubbed the four of them). “Nathaniel, Jean will be your partner. He’s a backliner, too.”

“Understood, sir,” Nathaniel said with a slight bow.

“You’ll teach him everything he needs to know.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’ll be-“

“I don’t want to be here!” Jean complained in French as he tugged on the front of his new uniform, which bore the number ‘4’. “All of you can go to hell, I refuse to-ow!” His pale grey eyes grew wide as he stumbled forward beneath the force of the blow to his back from Tetsuji’s cane.

“You’ll speak English,” Tetsuji reprimanded while Riko smirked and Kevin stared off into the distance as if he wasn’t participating in the whole ‘here’s a new possession’ thing.

“I’ll speak whatever I wa-ow!” That time, Jean was knocked to his knees, where he was hit several times before Tetsuji relented; Nathaniel was disgusted to notice the gleam of pleasure in Riko’s dark eyes over the abuse.

#aftg #casts a shadow fic #ch2 preview #neil josten #neil as nathaniel #raven!neil #raven!renee #renee walker #renee as natalie #neil and renee as adopted siblings #kevin day #riko moriyama #tetsuji moriyama #jean moreau #yes yes precious jean-bean is here #perfect court five #it gets better for jean i promise

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 4 years ago

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Sweet Pea//no matter what gets in my way

Request: May I please request a Sweet Pea x female reader that’s based off of the song ‘Come for You’ by Nickelback?

hey! before i start chatting at you all, just wanted to let you know about any trigger warnings, so: there’s mentions of therapy, childhood trauma (not in detail, its mainly sweet pea talking about growing up on the southside), emotions and a car accident (near the end) i hope you enjoy!!! have a great day/night!! also the plot of this is completely different to the meaning of the song/music video. just thought i’d let you know!

“This is quite possibly the stupidest thing I have ever been told to do. And I used to take orders from Jones on a daily basis.” Sweet Pea huffs, flopping onto your bed. A pout takes over his appearance as he stares up at the stars decorating the ceiling and you send him a sympathetic smile, despite the fact that he isn’t paying attention to you.

“I don’t think its that bad.” You drop your bag on the floor and lie next to him, nudging him with your elbow. He looks at you, the frown on his face somehow worsening, but when you smile at him, it flickers for just a second, the corners of his lips curling up a little.

“Really?”

“Well, yeah. You’ve been through a lot. There’s a lot of trauma tucked up in that big head of yours, and if your therapist thinks that you should maybe write down how you’re feeling, then maybe its worth a shot.” You shrug, not tearing your gaze away from the ceiling and he stares at you for a few seconds. His eyebrows furrow as he thinks about what you said. Maybe you were right?

Thats stupid, you’re always right.

“Why do you always have to be the logical one?” He huffs and you smile, turning on your side to face him. Stray hairs fall in front of your face and he tucks them behind your ear almost as soon as they fall.

“Because when I’m friends with you, someone has to be.”

“Yeah, fair.” The two of you laugh before a peaceful silence falls over the room. The sounds of traffic coming from the street below drifts through your open window and it makes Sweet Pea sit up quickly.

“I thought I said, don’t leave your window open when we’re out.”

“I forgot.” You roll your eyes, now joining him in staring out the window. A soft breeze causes the curtains to move gently and the sunlight streams in, casting your room in a golden glow.

“You won’t forget when we’re robbed.”

“We’re not gonna get robbed.” You huff and start to unpack your bag.

“Sure we’re not. This is New York City we’re talking about.” He watches you move around your small room, and he smiles to himself. It seems like the light follows you around, casting you in a constant shimmer.

“We’ve lived for two years and we haven’t been robbe-”

“Finish that sentence...I dare you.” He cuts you off, sending you a glare to which you just roll your eyes at. Sweet Pea is as threatening as a puppy to you and he knows it. But it doesn’t stop him from pulling his ridiculously adorable faces when he tries to be scary.

“Aww, you’re so cute.” You pat his head and his scowl falls into a pout. “See, adorable.” You pinch his cheek making him bat your hand away.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know.” You smile sweetly at him.

“I’m going to my room.” He huffs, clearly annoyed at how unaffected by him you are and his reaction only makes your smile widen.

“Are you going to write about your crush in your diary? Don’t worry I won’t peek.” You tease and he grumbles to himself while walking out. He’s just about to slam your door closed when you call after him again making him stop.

“Yeah?”

“I am really proud of you, you know?” You tell him honestly and his expression softens, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he looks down at the scuffed floor.

“For what?” He asks once he finally recovers from the unexpected compliment. To be honest, he doesn’t know what he expected. You always make sure to say something nice to him at least once a day, and he always tries to return the favour.

He’s just not as good as expressing his feelings as you. Thats probably another things he needs to discuss at his next session. But now he feels a little less stupid for writing in a diary if it means he gets better at talking to you.

“For how far you’ve come. When we were in High School you never would have thought about any of this stuff. But you are and I think thats great. So, as your best friend and number one supporter, I am so incredibly proud of you. So much so, that I got you a present.” You quickly run towards your dresser, digging through the top drawer before pulling out a wrapped present with a little bow on it.

He smiles as he takes it from you, looking at you one last time before quickly unwrapping it. “Whats this?”

“A notebook.” You reply teasingly and he rolls his eyes at you.

You’d bought it a few weeks ago because it had reminded you of Sweet Pea. You’d been waiting to use it, but when Sweet Pea had told you about what his therapist said, you realized that he would have much more important things to write in it than whatever you would eventually come up with.

“I mean, whats on it?”

“Ohh. Its a Sweet Pea. Seriously? Its your name and you don’t even know what they look like. You’ve gone through twenty years of your life and not even googled it once?”

“First of all, you know Sweet Pea isn’t actually my name. It’s-”

“Yes, yes. I know what you’re name is. I have been your friend for the past twenty years.” You interrupt, waving your arm at him and he grabs it, pushing it away from him. The two of you play fight for a few minutes before you eventually give in and he finally lets you out of the headlock he had you in.

You huff, smoothing your hair out and he chuckles, ruffling it back up when you’ve finished.

“I hate you.” You hit his arm and he feigns hurt. “We’ve been friends-

“Not long enough.” He interrupts, a bright grin on his face.

“Too long.” You grumble.

“Shut up.”

“Get out.”

“Gladly.” He smiles sarcastically and you flip him off.

“I am really proud of you though...seriously.” You say, and he stops in the doorway. He clutches the notebook to his chest and he glances at it, a soft smile on his face before turning around to face you, the usual smirk appearing.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t go on about it.”

You just shake your head at him making him chuckles before actually leaving, still slamming the door behind him. Once he’s sat down, he reluctantly places the notebook on his bed, the pale pink flowers stand out against the light blue background and he takes a deep breath, grabbing a pen from his nightstand before opening the cover.

The pen hovers over the blank page. What the hell is he supposed to write about? His trauma? His feelings? And is so, what trauma? Which feelings? This was a stupid idea. But the he remembers how proud you were of him, and he looks at the cover of the book one last time, deciding that maybe this is something he needs to do. No matter how scary it feels. Plus, he’s done far worse things...a pen and a piece of paper can’t hurt him.

Dear Diary,

God, how old do I sound? Anyway, dear stupid diary? Well, now I sound even more ridiculous. My actual therapist and my unofficial therapist (y/n, remember her because she’s going to be mentioned a lot) recommended that i write how I feel down.

I don’t have to show anyone if I don’t want to and I don’t evem even have to read it myself. But apparently its supposed to help, so I suppose I’ll give it a go. Dr Smith told me that a good place to start is to write down why I think I’m in therapy. And to that I told her that there wasn’t a big enough notebook in the world. I suppose I’ll just have to write in tiny letters to cram everything in here because I want to keep this notebook for as long as possible. So time to be honest?

When you grew grow up on the southside, you learn to grow up a lot quicker than you should. You see a lot of shit that even adults shouldn’t be witnessing, let alone kids. Its like you’re always waiting for the clouds to lift from the darkness of the life you lead, but they never do. And by the time you get to like, 11, you’re more like a soldier than a kid. I’ve known how to fight for as long as I remember and I remember back then, before me and Y/n moved to New York, I felt like I was constantly a little wounded. I needed time to heal, but in Riverdale, on the southside, there is no time.

Oh, by the way Y/n is my best friend. We’ve been neighbors since we were born and we’ve been practically inseparable. Whatever memories I have of my life, good and bad, she’s always in them. And when we were younger we made a pact that when we gradated, we would leave Riverdale as soon as possible and go somewhere completely different. So we worked (some jobs more legal than others), and we saved up as much money as possible to get an apartment. That was two years ago and we still live in the same shitty apartment, but now its just more out of comfort than anything else. We like it here and we have some great memories here, so even though we probably could get a nicer place, we probably won’t.

Anyway. I try not to dwell on the past. I don’t succeed though. I suppose during school I had to just keep up appearance. I was in a gang, still am technically and I love the serpents. But its not the best environment to be around. Y/n is always talking about self love and stuff like that and to be honest, I always thought it was kind of just a girl thing. But then I went on twitter and learnt what toxic masculinity is, and with the help of Y/n, Toni and Fangs, I realized that its okay to feel the way I do. Its completely normal and I should get help for it. Which is now why I’m doing this.

So yeah, thats it. I mean thats not it, it. But you know what i mean. Well I suppose you don’t, you’re an inanimate object but whatever. Now how do I end this.

Bye? Bye

To his surprise, he actually feels a little bit better. Maybe this won’t be too bad. And maybe in a little bit, he’ll feel confident enough to show people. Who knows? Maybe writing is something he could actually be good at.

----

“You’re an ass.” You shout from your bed. What had started off as a good day has ended in the worst possible way.

You honestly don’t know how you got here. One minute you and Sweet Pea are talking about what to make for dinner, and the next thing, you’re screaming and shouting at each other while simultaneously pissing the neighbours off.

“I know!” He spits back and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Get out.” There’s no playfulness in your voice, not like usual. Its just filled with spite and it makes him feel a little sick. There’s only one other time that you’ve talked to him like that, and it was when he called your boyfriend at the time an self-centered dick. He wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t the point.

You stopped talking to him for a week after that, but when he turned up at your trailer with flowers and Pop’s takeout, you forgave him instantly. Hugging him tightly and spending the rest of the night watching movies.

But now, neither of you know how you’ve ended up here so he doesn’t know how to make it up to you. So he does the next best thing.

“Gladly.” He scowls, slamming the door behind him. He hears a soft thud and knows instantly that you’ve thrown a cushion at him. “Real immature Y/n.”

“Get fucked.” You shout back and he huffs loudly before slamming his own door shut.

The bed shakes as he throws himself down on it and he burrows his face into the grey pillow. His hand reaches underneath it and his fingers brush against something cold. His eyebrows furrow in confusion as he pulls it out and all the anger that he was feeling disappears.

The blue catches his eye first, and then the green of the stem and then finally the pale, delicate petals. He hadn’t even thought of the notebook since he finished writing in it the first time. He sighs, his fingers tracing over the pattern, and he squeezes his eyes closed. His head drops back onto the pillow, not even bothering to move the diary from underneath his face and he moves his hand over to the cluttered night stand to find a pen.

Dear Diary

Hey, so I know I’m supposed to be talking about my feelings and my trauma and shit and i know I kind of forgot about you, but life got in the way and I don’t have time to write down all my stupid emotions in a arguably very pretty book.

Anyway. I fucked up. I upset Y/n and I don’t know how to make it better because I honestly don’t know how we started arguing in the first place. We’ve only ever had one huge argument like this, and after a week it ended. But this time it feels different. This time my chest is aching and my head is hurting. I have this weird feeling in my stomach and I really don’t know what to do. I figured if you’re supposed to be helping me...then help me.

I think she thinks I don’t care. That I’ve just dropped our friendship, and everything that comes along with it on the ground and then stomped on it over and over again.

So, who knows what I’m going to do. I think saying sorry might be the best place to start.

Hey, look at that. You did help...thanks I suppose.

Bye.

Sweet Pea doesn’t even bother closing the book, he just drops the pen in the middle of it and jumps up, kicking his leg out of the unmade duvet and stumbling out the door.

He hesitates outside of your room, wondering the best way to go around it. Should he just walk in like he usually does? Or should he knock?

“Y/n?”

“...what?” You sniffle and he looks at the floor, unsure of what to say next.

“Can I er-Can I come in?”

“That depends.”

“On?” He wonders.

“If you’re still gonna be an ass.” He can tell by just the tone of your voice that you’re a little less pissed than you were ten minutes, but only by a little bit. Like 5%, and he lets out a small chuckle before opening the door.

You’re sat on you bed, your legs tucked into your chest and when the door opens you send him a glare before dramatically looking in the opposite direction. He rolls his eyes but sits opposite you anyway.

“I’m sorry okay.”

Silence.

“Please Y/n.”

Still silence.

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry I was being an ass. I don’t even know what we were arguing about and it kinda just snowballed into one big fight. But if it makes you feel any better, the ten minutes I spent in my room I missed you. Like that JLS song, every seconds like an hour or something like that. Anyway the point is, I’m sorry and I missed you so much that I even wrote in my stupid diary. So there’s that. Now please can you forgive me because I hate fighting with you, you’re like the only person I don’t like fighting with...and I’ll buy us takeout to make up for it.”

“1. Its ‘every minute’s like an hour, every hour’s like a da-’

“I don’t need a full rendition.”

“And 2. You’re diary is not stupid and even though I also don’t like fighting with you either, I’m glad you wrote in it again...so yes, you’re forgiven. And I’m sorry too. I was also arguing with you.” You mumble reluctantly, trying to hide a smile and he smirks, poking at your cheeks teasingly. “Leave me alone.” You grumble, swatting his hand away.

“So, are we friends again?” He asks, his heart suddenly starts pounding, but you punching him in the arm distracts him from whatever medical problem he is currently experiencing.

“Yeah...dingus.”

“Aww, I love you too.” For some reason, both of you feel a blush spreading up your necks after he speaks and the two of you look away for a few seconds.

“So.” You break the slightly awkward tension. In the twenty years of friendship, you have literally never experienced any kind of awkwardness, but that was weird, for some reason those four specific words had some sort of effect on you both, and now you’re not entirely sure what to do. “What are we having for dinner?”

“Oh, I er. I dunno.” He shrugs. “Whatever you want...my treat.”

“Yeah, it better be.” You try to joke but it doesn’t really work. Instead the room feels weird. There seems to be some sort of tension lingering, but its not anger...so who knows what it is? All you know is that you need to both leave.

So you stand. Unfortunately he does the same and the two of you end up bumping into each other. His hands reach out to steady you, grabbing your shoulders and the two of you laugh, although its more forced than anything.

“I’m gonna go check the menu on the fridge”

“I need to pee.” He says at the same time.

“Oh.” You say, slightly surprised and he mentally curses himself. But he really doesn’t know why. He’s told you a lot worse about his bodily functions, and every time you also mutter a small ‘gross’, followed by a laugh. But this just feels icky. “Okay.”

He gestures for you to leave first, and you do gladly. That whole encounter was weird and you vow never to argue with him again if it makes you feel like that. All strange and awkward and unsure what to do with yourself while trying to calm your heartbeat down.

---

Dear...should I give you a name or is that weird? What could I call you? Who the hell knows? I’ll come back to that later. I’m feeling better. I think writing is this is actually working. Its only been two months, but I’m actually becoming a lot better at talking about my feelings and shit. Its like I was blindfolded (kinky) to being able to feel, but now I’m seeing. Talking is great! I’m still a little wary about talking about myself to just anyone, lets be real, anyone can be a snitch, or from another gang.

But I think I’m better at communicating my thoughts and emotions with the people I love like the most. I feel like before I was very close minded, not in like the usual way...because if you know me personally I’m very vocal about human rights and stuff...thats not the point. But I was very closed minded about my own emotions and how to deal with them. But now, thanks to Dr Smith and Y/n, I’m actually starting to believe in myself. Maybe this is how Y/n see’s me. Huh...she must think I’m great.

I know what it means to let someone in and I think I kind of like it. But that’s also where I have one small issue.

I know that I’m supposed to talk about my trauma and shit, but I’ve been doing this for like two months so I think I’m good now. Well, not good. But I need to talk about something else thats much more important than whatever is happening in my brain.

Its Y/n.

Now usually, if I had any issues involving her, I would talk to Toni and Fangs, but they just involved birthday presents and who is that dickwad talking her on a date? But I can’t talk to anyone about this problem, because I know exactly what Toni and Fangs will say. They’ll say its because we’re in love...we’re not.

Its just, ever since our fight. Things have been weird around here. We can barely be in the same room as one another for more than five minutes without one or both of us saying something incredibly stupid. And usually, I’m fine with losing friends, its just part of life. But I don’t want to lose her. I’ve been losing sleep over this. Every time I think about her not being here, my palms get sweaty and there’s like a heavy weight on my chest. It sucks.

Y/n has organized a movie night for us tonight. I think she can feel the tension too and I think its driving her just as mad. She always seems so unsure around me now, and despite how hard she tries, she is terrible at trying to hide it.

I don’t really know what to do and I know you can’t reply unless you’re something from Harry Potter, but I just thought if I wrote it down, I might get some ideas.

Spoilers...I didn’t.

“Sweet Pea!” You’re yelling makes him jump and slam the book closed, despite you being nowhere near him.

“Coming!” He replies, quickly scribbling the end of his stream of thoughts before closing the book again and throwing in under his bed.

Gotta go...byeeeee

“Hey.” You’re already sat on the sofa by the time he leaves his room. The film is set up, waiting for one of you to press play and two pizza’s are sat on the coffee table.

He smiles as he sits down on the other end of the couch, remembering all the other movie nights you guys have had. He enjoyed the ones back home when it was all four of you. But some of his favourites have been with just you. The film is usually forgotten about half way through, and you just spend the rest of the night talking and laughing and playing stupid games, before falling asleep on top of each other at like 5am.

But as he looks over at you, staring straight at the tv, his chest aches. Usually you would end up sitting as close to each other as possible, but now, you’re both sat as far away as you can be.

He can’t remember the last time you laughed at something he said, or you told him a stupid story from work. It feels like you’re just two strangers living as roommates instead of two best friends.

“Do you want me to press play?” You wonder and he nods. The opening titles play, casting the room in a soft glow and Sweet Pea watches you silently while shadows flicker across your face. “What?” You say suddenly, locking eyes with him.

“I-er. Nothing.” He stumbles and you send him a look.

“Okay.” You reply. You don’t believe him, but you give him the benefit of the doubt anyway, and start watching the film again.

You really don’t know what you were expecting to get from this night but you have a feeling you’re not going to get it. Things have been awkward for over a month now. And its the worst. You feel a little lost without him to be honest. You used to spend all your time together, but now you can’t remember the last time you spent more than five minutes together without one of you making up some excuse to leave.

You miss him, and you miss how you used to be and you have no idea how to get back to the point...if you can.

Its the first time in twenty years that you’ve actually seen a film all the way through. And its torture. The closing credits play, and you stretch before standing.

“Do you want anything?” You look down and him but he just shrugs before unlocking his phone.

“Hey, if you ever get lost in the middle of the woods with a creepy ghost lady trying to track you down and tear you limb from limb. I’d search forever for you and then I’d bring you home...possessed or not.” You stop on your way to the kitchen, a small smile appearing on your face as you see a flicker of how you used to be.

”Awww...you’re so sweet.” You smile sweetly at him and he feels a blush creep up his cheeks, although, he’s not really sure why.

“I know.” He says smugly making you roll your eyes.

Its silent. So very silent.

What do people say to each other?

How do you have a conversation?

“Well, goodnight.” You both say at the same time. You quickly shut your bedroom door behind you and Sweet Pea goes to his room. You slide down the door, your head falling into your hands while you squeeze your eyes shut.

He does the same in his own room and both of you wonder the same thing

what the hell happened?

----

List of diary names:

- Doris

- Petunia

- Harry

- Louis

- Liam

- Niall

- Z

Wait, hold on a minute somebody’s calling me. Who calls anymore? And why am I telling you this, you’re a diary? Whatever...oh shit, I’m gonna mis

“Hello?” He answers lazily, barely pulling his attention from the tv playing some cheesy sitcom. His notebook lies closed on his lap, and his fingers trace over the pattern as he waits for a reply.

“Hello. Is this a, er...Sweet Pea?” A woman asks, there’s a hint of confusion in her tone and he rolls his eyes.

“Yep.”

“Hi. This is Dr Floyd from the New York City Hospital. You’re listed as Y/n Y/l/n’s emergency contact.” He sits up quickly, almost dropping the phone and his eyes widen. The TV, his diary, the rest of the world is completely forgotten.

“Is she okay?” He swears he can heart his heartbeat in his ears while he waits for a reply.

The Dr takes far too long to respond. The few seconds seem to drag on for days while he waits to hear if you’re okay. Its already felt like you’re not around anymore, but what if you are really not going to be hear anymore.

He doesn’t even want to think about that, his chest tightening and he has to hold back a sob.

“She has been brought in after a car collision. She was crossing the street when a car hit her. I just want-”

“I’m on my way.” He’s already replied and hung up before she can finish her sentence, grabbing his keys and jacket before running out the front door.

He doesn’t think he’s ever ran so fast or so far and by the time he makes it to the hospital, he’s sure he looks like he should be in one of the wards. But it doesn’t matter when he finds you. Your eyes are closed and you look so peaceful in your bed.

The room is a bright white, with faded green furniture that hasn’t been updated since the 70′s are dotted across the room. A blanket covering your body, a green chair with an awful pattern by your bedside, green curtains that are more sun damage than fabric.

“Shit? Are you dead.” He mumbles, more to himself than to you as he cautiously walks through the door.

“Nah, just lying down. Whats up?” You ask, opening an eye to look at him.

“Whats up? Seriously I have just ran to the hospital because I got a call saying you’d been hit by a car. And you ask me whats up?” He huffs, sitting in the chair.

“Yeah...so whats up?”

“Nothing much.” He shrugs before realizing where he is again. “Actually a lot is up. You’re body in the air is whats up from what I heard.”

“You are so dramatic. You always have been. Its just a mild concussion and a few cuts and bruises. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure.” He looks you up and down, his eyes scanning every part of you, looking out for something the doctors might of missed. When he’s sure you’re okay, he lets his gaze rest on your scratched and bruised face and he lets out a deep sigh.

Despite the bruises blooming on your cheeks, you still look as pretty as usual and his eyes widen as that thought dawns on him.

“What? Are you okay?” You ask, now worried as you try and sit up, but he’s quickly pushing you back down.

“I er. I’m fine.” He stutters. “I think I just realized something.” He admits, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks while he looks at the scratchy blanket covering you...shit.

“Pea?” You ask, your voice quiet. He’s never heard you so unsure of something before. Almost like you’re scared to know the answer to your question. “Are we okay now?”

“What do you mean?” He forces the words out. He knows exactly what you mean. But now he thinks he’s figured out what’s been wrong the whole time. You may have been scared to hear the answer to your question, but he is absolutely terrified to answer it himself.

Its been so obvious but he’s been so oblivious. Toni and Fangs were right. Or at least half right. He’s in love with you. And that makes his heart race, but for good or bad reasons, he doesn’t know.

“Its just. When I saw that car I thought I was going to die. And I remembered us and how we aren’t as close as we were and I realized, that if I was going to die, my biggest regret would be not making things with us right again. I don’t know whats happened over these past few months that have made us not know how to act like human beings around each other. But I know I want it to stop. I miss you Pea. And I don’t ever want to feel that alone ever again...in my bedroom or by the side of the road.” You admit, your eyes trained on the blanket while your fingers play with the frayed edges.

He slumps in the chair, letting out a long breath while your words settle in.

“Did you really think you were going to die?” He asks after a few seconds and you look at him surprised.

“Yeah. One minute I’m crossing an empty road and then all I heard was a high pitched screech and then this car was coming towards me.” You say shakily and he grabs your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “The thing is though. For a spilt second I made eye contact withe the driver and she looked almost as scared as I did.” You laugh humorously and he sends you a sympathetic smile. “When I was lying on the pavement. I was looking up at everyone panicking around me, and all I thought about was you and how you weren’t there. And how if I died, I never would have got to say goo-” You’re cut off by your own sobs and he quickly wraps his arms around you. His chin resting on your head while he cries his own silent tears.

“Its okay.” He whispers. “You’re okay now. We’re okay.”

“I’m glad.” You give him a teary smile once he lets go, and you notice him wiping his own tears away. You grab his hand again and squeeze it reassuringly. The gesture makes his cheeks heat up a little and he has to look away for a little bit until they go back to normal. “Hey.” You start, wanting to distract the two of you. “How many cars do you think you could take on?”

“Me?” He raises an eyebrow. “A solid ten. If not more. And I’d fight any that tried to get to you too.”

“You’re so sweet.” You giggle.

“I know.” He smirks.

“I keep meaning to ask, how’s your diary going? Have you doodled your crushes name in hearts yet?” You tease making him roll his eyes.

“Shut up.” He mumbles.

“Hmm...nah.”

“Its going good. I’m kinda worried though.”

“About?” You wonder.

“What if I’m too good at expressing my emotions.” He asks seriously and you have to stifle a laugh.

“How can you be too good at that?”

“I could just constantly tell people what I’m feeling. Or, I could use really big, fancy words to emote...see, I did it then. And then I just come off as pretentious.” He rambles and it takes everything in your power to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

“Oh yeah? Try this.” He clears his throat. “Y/n. I’d crawl across this world for you.” He tries to say it seriously, but the two of you end up laughing loudly, and he thinks to himself that maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe he can keep being your friend, even if he is in love with you. Plus, he’d rather keep being your friend and just admire you afar, than lose you forever. “I’m in love with you.” He blurts out and his eyes widen.

“What?” You look at him, your expression mirroring his and he quickly starts backtracking.

“I mean. I love you as a friend. I’m not in love with you. That would be ridiculous. Sorry.”

“Is that why everything has been so weird between us?” You ask and he nods slowly.

“I think so. But I’ve only just actually realized like ten minutes ago.”

“Thats okay.” You laugh. “I only realized when I was lying on the ground wishing to see your face.”

“You mean...you love me too?”

“I think so.” You nod. “Although, it could just be the concussion.” You shrug and he punches your arm lightly.

“I’ll take take.” He smiles. “So, when you’re feeling better, do you want to have a movie and pizza night, but like, as a date?”

“I’d love to.” You beam, and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Hey Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I have so much to write in Harry!”

“Who the hell is Harry?”

“...my diary.”

“...okay?”

#sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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