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sinner-as-saint · 4 years ago

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Can’t Stay Away From Me.

Cherry!Seb (mob!seb) x Stripper!reader.

What is ‘cherry!seb’? Basically just mob!seb but like, daddy-er. (click on the tag for more)

Run-through: You've known the mob boss for a while now. He’s a regular at your club, and you are his personal favorite, everybody knew that you were his girl. You two have definitely broken the ‘no sex on premises’ rule many, many times. And although he called you his, you two were never officially a thing. So when he mysteriously doesn’t show up at the club for weeks, you decide to just put the hurt aside and move on. But the mob boss comes back from the dead just in time. And he doesn’t like what he sees. So he reminds you that you belong to him. Just him.

Themes: smut, stripper!reader, angst, dirty talk, slight daddy kink, swear words, fluff

a/n: I wrote a hc quite similar to this last year or something, I read it recently and thought why not turn it into a fic since many of you have been missing Cherry!Seb lately. Enjoy!

You stared at yourself in the mirror of the dimly lit locker room. You were alone in there, all the girls had stepped out already. You gently touched the diamond choker you always wore and adored, your fingertips grazing his name upon it.

His name. His choker. His girl. Everybody knew that. You were his girl so you had certain privileges that the other girls didn’t have. But you never took advantage of the power you had, mainly because you had fun with your job, but also because most nights over the past many months, you spent with him. And you loved every single moment.

You sighed for the fifth time as you stared into the mirror. Tonight marked a little over three weeks since Seb last showed up at the club. You had no idea where he was, what he was doing, who he was with. And it hurt, bad.

At first you were worried about his whereabouts, then by the second week you were annoyed and now all you had energy for was anger. Clearly he didn’t care, perhaps he was out there having the time of his life with other women and here you were sulking over his mysterious departure.

Over the past weeks, you gained quite some new clients. Some new regulars as well. You did some champagne rooms, and earned decently well. But you didn’t make as much money as you made with Seb.

You decided to stop acting like an overly obedient pet waiting for its master. You had to work and earn, like you did before him.

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and then went on to take the choker off. It would be humiliating to be proud of being his girl and wear his name on your neck while he was out doing God knows what.

You tossed the choker onto the dresser with a heavy heart and walked out of the locker room, deciding to just be yourself tonight; the same beautiful, confident woman you were before meeting him all those months ago. He hadn’t been back in weeks, who knows perhaps he might never come back here.

When you walked out, you noticed all the eyes on you. You looked good and you knew it. You sent some smiles around, some winks, a couple of flirty lines and by the time you made it to one of your regular clients, you had already earned some money bills.

Your client tonight was an older gentleman. He was not like the typical, lousy businessmen who came by your club often. But he was very giving. The moment you settled on his lap he tucked a bundle of cash into the waistband of your thong, that alone earned him a lap dance to a sensual song. Besides, you were feeling yourself tonight so you were extra good today.

You were carefree. You felt confident, and beautiful and sexy and you could feel all the eyes on you tonight. You danced like there’s no tomorrow. Your client was so satisfied he even put his golden chain on you at some point. You felt spoilt, so you gave him your best obviously.

Amongst all those stares you got, one of them burned the most. You could feel the vibe around you change. You discreetly scanned the room and met with a pair of eyes you least expected. Stormy, ocean blue ones which made you tremble in both fear and hunger.

Surrounded by his loyal guards, he stood there looking like a god; expensive, dark suit, the button of his shirt carelessly undone - he looked delectable - gawking, unable to believe that his precious babygirl dared to sit on another man’s lap. He was furious, and you could tell by the way he was shooting glares at you.

Guess you didn’t expect him to just pop out of nowhere. But you didn’t let his presence ruin your mood right away. You maintained eye contact with him as you moved salaciously across the man’s lap. Biting your lip and being as inappropriate as you could; breaking all of Seb’s rules.

He noticed it all. How you weren’t wearing his collar, how your dark red outfit was ridiculously revealing, how your body moved just to torment him, how you captured everyone’s attention. The more he looked at you, the angrier he got.

You held his stare, daring and confidently. He decided not to cause a scene at your workplace so he simply pointed towards the corridor which led to the champagne rooms and walked off in that direction, expecting you to follow immediately.

You could do so. You could drop everything and run to him because you missed him so much. But you purposely didn’t. He had made you wait over three weeks, he could wait some more minutes you thought.

Meanwhile Seb was fuming inside the room. How dare you? Most of all, how dare that guy touch you like that? He couldn’t wait to have that talk with you and remind you that you belong to him and only him, because it seemed that you had forgotten.

After finishing up your dance, you took your time and gracefully moved away from the man. You didn’t take off the golden chain, you didn’t take out the bundle of cash tucked into your thong either; you walked into the champagne room just like you left the man earlier - a little flushed.

You knew which room he was in since his guards stood outside the door. They let you in and judging by their faces you could tell that their boss was in a bad mood. And you intended on making it worse.

“Have you lost your way? Are you sure you’re in the right place?” You sassed, upon walking in. You took in his appearance for a moment or two and realized just how much you had missed him.

Seb sat on the dark red couch, manspreading like it was his throne; quietly sipping on his liquor while his piercing eyes shamelessly roamed your body. The ridiculously bright neon signs behind him were the only things illuminating the room, buzzing slightly. Seb took his time and studied you; torn between loving and hating what he was seeing.

Your lingerie drove him insane. Your excuse of a see-through cover up did too. Your slightly smudged dark lipstick made him want to ruin it even more, but the thought of where your lips had been were making him even angrier.

He hated the sight of the golden chain around your neck, replacing the very expensive diamond collar he had given you a while ago; with his last name on it. That was a gift you were meant to wear all the time; to remind you and everyone else that you belonged to him. The mob boss was very possessive when it came to you, and now here you were, disrespecting him.

But the thing he hated the most, was the bundle of cash tucked into the waistband of your underwear. And he knew that you were purposely showing it off.

You caught the way his jaw clenched as his eyes roamed your body. He was thinking, plotting. You felt hot under his gaze. You had always loved the way he looked at you, like he owned you. He looked at you the same way, but right now he was pissed off as well.

Seb had missed you. He even hurried his way back, eager to find you and have you on his lap while he finally touched you and told you all about the time he’d been gone. But instead, he returned to find that his girl had defied him. He felt betrayed.

“Come here.” He simply said, authority dripping from his words. You could tell he was annoyed and troubled by what he saw out there but he had brought this upon himself. You stayed put despite his very clear order. You didn’t move a muscle. He sighed and rolled his eyes before staring deep into your soul again. “Babygirl,” he sounded threatening, “I said, come here.” He pointed to his lap.

You approached him, knowing he would be a pain in the ass after all that he saw. But you knew he’d eventually give in because he had said it himself, he can’t stay away from you for too long. Neither could you honestly, and that was why him being gone for so long hurt so bad.

Seb watched you as you slowly walked over to him, and before you even came to a full stop in front of him, he reached out and pulled you into his lap; gripping your jaw to make sure he had your full attention.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” you slapped his hand away, surprising both you and him. You had never acted this way before. Usually you craved his touch. You did even now, but right now you were angry at him too.

Seb growled as he pulled you closer and placed his hand back to your face, gripping your jaw harder this time and it hurt just a little but nothing compared to how you had felt this whole time he’s been gone.

“Why are you being such a brat, huh? And what the fuck do you think you were doing just now, outside?” He asked, using the same tone he used when dealing with his rivals. Just a tone of pure anger and annoyance.

Normally he was sweet and gentle with you, so this was new for you. But you wouldn’t give in so easily. You scoffed. “My fucking job is what I was doing! Now go get fucked somewhere else! I’m not your little toy!” You were mad too, and your anger camouflaged the hurt.

You tried to get off his lap but he wouldn’t let you move. His grip on you was firm and strong.

“Watch that tone with me, babygirl.” He threatened. This was the second time you had been entirely disrespectful while talking to him tonight. Seb was so close to losing his cool.

“Or what?” Just two very bratty words from you was enough to make him lose his mind, and his calm and composure.

Within a second he flipped the two of you and he had you pinned down on the couch beneath him. He held you by the neck gently, wrapping his long finger around your throat and applying the slightest bit of pressure which made you gasp softly.

“You will not disrespect me like that. You know I don’t tolerate it.” He reminded you of his inability to put up with disobedience.

You chuckled, mocking him. “And what are you gonna do about it? I have nothing to lose, Seb. I’m just a toy for you to play with, just a whore, or just an easy fuck on most days, aren’t I?” You sounded as though you were questioning his power, insulting him and hurting him at the same time.

How dare you say that? How dare you assume that you were nothing but those things to him? You meant so much more to him, and you had no idea. Of all the people in his life, you were the only one who didn’t spend time with him out of fear. You were the only thing which he looked forward to almost each day.

The mob boss was not good at being affectionate, so he thought that perhaps showering you with gifts and money would convey how much you meant to him. But apparently not, because you still dared to say such things right to his face. And upon hearing those things, something in him flipped like a switch.

You saw it in his eyes; wild, and determined.

“Just a whore, huh? Well, let me show you how I treat one,” he whispered before going absolutely feral.

He tore off your lingerie in less than a few seconds. And you let him. You were mad, but you had missed him too and the truth is you’d take whatever he’d give you. He was mean, and dangerous and unpredictable but you loved him. Oh you loved him, and his cold heart and his dark soul.

While he tore your clothes off your body, your shaky hands tugged at his suit and his shirt too. You could feel his hunger, and him yours. He wanted nothing more than to just be slow, and loving and love you and tell you just how much he missed you. But before all that, he needed to teach you a lesson.

“I was stupid to even give you any attention.” He kissed his way down your naked body, kissing and nibbling on your skin as he went. “Should’ve left you out there, to be used like a little whore.” He mumbled, growling under his breath through clenched teeth while he parted your legs and settled in between them.

Your breaths were short and fast as you looked up at him towering you. You had missed the sight of him above you, all big and strong. In less than a minute, he had his erected cock out in his hand. And the sight of him stroking it ever so gently made you whimper in need.

“I was stupid to even put you on a fucking pedestal, and call you mine. I leave for some time and you get back down to where you truly belong. Guess whores never learn, huh?” He was quick to push himself in you, not even bothering about your whimpers and moans.

You dripping wet core gripped around him immediately. Your body arched off the surface of the couch as you gasped and moaned. He supported himself above you and smirked as he saw your face morph into a frown.

“Nothing...” he pulled out and pushed back into you again, “...but a fucking toy for me.” He repeated your words back at you as he sped up and pounded into you, making you moan wantonly in pleasure. He knew his words were a little harsh, but he wanted you to feel how he felt when he walked in to find you on someone else’s lap.

You whimpered at how good he felt. He quickened his pace. He was relentless.

“Guess you’ll do anything for money, huh?” His hand came down to grab you by the jaw again, forcing you to open your eyes and look into his deep, blue ones. “Tell me, did he fuck you like this as well? Did he touch you like daddy does? Did you let him?” He asked as he merciless pounded into you.

You could only moan in response, and he got the answer he needed. He knew your body, and judging by the way you moved and squirmed under him and the sounds you made, he could tell no one had touched you since he’s been gone.

“All fucking mine,” he growled as he let go of your face, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. He grabbed the golden you wore and yanked it off you, throwing it somewhere on the ground behind him.

You moaned out loud, struggling to keep your eyes open as it started to water. But the moment your eyes started to close, you felt a gentle smack on your cheek.

“Look at me,” he leaned down to bite your mouth, “What is it? You can’t take daddy’s cock?” He taunted. “But isn’t that what whores do? Hmm?” he growled, “Shut up and take it then, take all of me. What else is a whore good for, huh?” He moaned and growled right against your mouth, clenching his teeth or occasionally biting down on your lip as he pounded into you relentlessly.

You moaned as he fucked deeper into you. You whimpered at the intensity of his thrust, and he kept going. You cried out as the pressure built up nicely in between your legs. Seb moaned at how your walls gripped his cock and milked it.

You felt him too; deep inside you, touching you everywhere you wanted him too. You felt your tears fall down your cheeks. You were close...so close…

“Please… please daddy...” you whined, begging pathetically and unable to arrange your words or your thoughts any better. “Please…”

Finally, your body betrayed you and you came all over his cock without any warning. You squirmed and moaned incessantly as the pleasure washed over you. Seb didn’t slow down, he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came.

You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even after you came, and your face burned as you felt the knot forming again right at your core. He fucked you relentlessly; not even stopping for a second. He panted and groaned at how good you felt around him; wet and warm all for him. Your walls clenched around him violently and your body arched off the couch. You felt your second release approaching while you recovered from the first one.

“Look at me,” he mumbled as he noticed your eyes were closing. You fought the need to shut your eyes and stared into his blue ones. “You’re mine. My little whore,” he growled as he sped up, “My girl,” he let out a grunt, “Mine. You hear me?”

You nodded. Your body trembled as you came again; gushing out around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you as he felt your walls clench around him, milking him perfectly and triggering his orgasm.

Seb came right after you did; groaning and swearing under his breath. He pulled his cock out of you and looked down at the lovely mess you were; his cum dripping out of you. He gently reached down to touch your sensitive and throbbing core, it was wet everywhere.

He didn’t hesitate before shoving two fingers inside you again. “Just gonna finger my cum back into your greedy cunt. And you’re gonna let me, won't you? You little slut…” he whispered. You moaned at how sensitive you were; you’re body shuddering under him. “You’ll take whatever I give you, huh?” he whispered before he leaned down to kiss your open mouth again. His tongue invaded your mouth like he owned it while he fingered you.

You were a mess as he fingered you faster, and faster until you came all over his fingers again. You could barely keep your eyes open as Seb pulled your naked body onto his lap. You had missed his warmth so you instinctively clinged to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pushing your face into his neck.

You didn’t mean to cry, but you couldn’t help it. Everything was too much, you felt overwhelmed. Seb’s heart broke at the sound of your quiet sobs. He had been rough, more than usual, and quite mean too… He was aware of that.

He stroked your bare back gently, tightening his arms around you. “Are you okay, babygirl?” He asked. You didn’t answer. “Baby?” he whispered again, softly. You didn’t respond, instead you sniffled again as you tried your hardest to fight back your tears but they fell anyways.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” He spoke again, his voice a stark contrast to what it was just a minute ago. He was gentle now, soft. He was apologizing for everything.

“You left me.” You finally spoke, voice strained and tired. You sobbed softly, still holding him tightly, “You’re so mean.”

His heart broke a little more. Once he was done with you, you could’ve easily left and asked him to never show his face around here again, but you didn’t. You needed him as much as he needed you. You stayed because you had no one else, and you needed to be held and taken care of.

“I’m sorry baby. I’ve been away for a long time. I know.” He apologized.

You sniffled again. “Still. You were so mean.” You spoke, pulling away to look at him with tears in your eyes.

He wiped your tears away and pulled you into him. “I lost my mind when I saw you with that guy. You’re mine and you know that. But you still let someone else put their dirty hands on you. How could you, baby?” He was calmer now.

“I didn’t wanna do it.” you said, pulling away from him to look into his eyes. His eyes were soft and deep; it only reminded you of how much you loved him.

He was confused by your words. “Do what?” he asked, gently running his hands up and down your sides lovingly.

You wiped some more tears away and took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to perform for anyone else. But I was running out of money, and the rent was due.” You finally confessed.

“You could’ve just told me that, baby.” he said, sounding more caring than you wanted him to.

You almost chuckled. “You weren’t here. You were gone for weeks, Seb. Besides, that’s my problem, not yours.” You made it clear. But he didn’t like that.

He reached out to grab your face, making sure he has your undivided attention. “You are mine. All your troubles are mine, okay? You don’t have to worry about a thing from now on. I’ll take care of you, and everything else. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. But please forgive me. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Of course you’d forgive him. But just for the hell of it, you said, “No.” and avoided his eyes. Seb sighed, knowing you’d come around eventually. He had you back now and that was all that mattered.

He took his suit jacket and put it around you to shelter you from the cold air. “You don’t have to worry, you’re never gonna work in this club again.”

You knew that possessive, slightly arrogant tone of his, and it only entailed surprises. “What do you mean?” You questioned further

“I’m buying it. You can run it.” He spoke as if it were nothing at all. He had been thinking about this for a while now.

You were shocked. “Seb, what-”

He cut you off, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead. “You heard what I said, baby.” He mumbled against your skin.

“Why?” You questioned, looking down at how you straddled his lap.

“Because I want you all to myself. I want you to be with me.”

You scoffed. “This is how you ask girls out?”

He looked at you and smiled. “Not girls, just you.” He caressed your tear stained cheek lazily. His heart fluttered as he looked at you, he loved you so much. He could find better ways to show it though.

After talking about it, after he constantly apologized for his previous behavior and a few playful banters later, he got up and offered you his hand to take.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“Home.” he replied.

“Your home?”

“Our home.” he corrected you. “You’re coming to live with me. I’ve been far from you for too long and I’m done hiding what I feel for you.” You began to say something but he spoke up again before you could say a word. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”

You smirked. “Why? Haven’t you had your fill just now?” you teased.

“I have.” He answered as you took his hand and stood up. “But every king needs his queen by his side. And I need you. I’ll keep you safe and happy, and I’ll love you. Forever.”

You gave him a teary smile. “You never told me what suddenly brought you back after three weeks.”

He smiled and pressed his lips against yours, whispering, “You know I can’t stay away from you, babygirl.”

#mob!seb #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #cherry!seb #mob!seb smut #mob!seb x reader

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ashesandhackles · 4 years ago

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Harry And Personal Conflict: A Meta On Evolving Dynamic With Ron and Hermione

One of my last metas on Harry was how his abuse at the Dursleys informed who he is as a person and a lot of his main personality traits. This time, I want to explore Harry's relationship with conflict, mostly in regard to his best friends - Ron and Hermione.

First things first, because of his abusive upbringing where he is constantly in conflict with his caregivers, conflict is seen as Bad Thing when we first meet him as a 11 year old. And it informs how he reacts to both Ron and Hermione at first. He instantly relates to Ron because Ron is an underdog - a boy who feels neglected and passed over in his large and boisterous family. Harry shares his own experience of neglect with Ron and they both bond instantly.

His initial impression of Hermione is that she has a "bossy sort of voice" . The bossiness is an important characterstic to his impression of her - she reminds him of an authority figure and he does not particularly take to her as easily as he does Ron. Before the troll incident, he is frequently annoyed by her interventions because "he can't believe anyone would be so interfering". It's her vulnerability and the fact that she may be in danger that makes Harry, and by extension Ron, go after her. And she pays it back in full with a demonstration of loyalty to them in front of people she wants to impress: teachers. This sets the tone of his friendship with Ron and Hermione.

There is sense of easiness to his friendship with Ron, especially in earlier books that he doesn't quite share with Hermione. This is a bit gendered as well, of course. His relationship with Hermione evolves as Ron's own equation with two of them changes, more specifically Ron's cognisance of his romantic feelings for Hermione. So how does this inform his relationship with personal conflict?

Let's look at it Book wise.

Book 1-4: Since Harry tends to see All Conflict As Bad, when Hermione becomes his friend, he tends to ignore traits of her that he particularly doesn't take to. Specifically her argumentativeness - which he usually leaves Ron to deal with. For example, look at when Hermione drags him off to the kitchens in GOF. When he realises what this is about, he nudges Ron, and Ron does the protesting: "Hermione, you are trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!".

Often, you can say he is amused by Ron's more ..let's say colourful.. reactions to Hermione being overbearing. So when Ron and him are not speaking and Hermione gets a Quidditch term wrong, it causes him "a pang to imagine Ron's expression of he could have heard Hermione talking about Wonky Faints". It's that deeply ingrained into the dynamic.

While Ron acts buffer and protects Harry from stepping into a potential conflict ("skip the lecture", "don't nag" he tells her), Harry's world view remains quite the same. Part of Harry's growing up is integrating conflicting points of view and gaining nuance. For example, he can't understand why someone like Snape, who seems to hate him so much, can also save his life at the end of Philosopher's Stone. This is his first venture into trying to integrate two conflicting things about a person into nuance. Dumbledore gives him a very easily digestible story, one that appeals to his ideal of his father and Harry is sated.

Again, Harry's world view is tested when he finds out that he relates with Tom Riddle - for their "strange likenesses". He doth protest too much at Dumbledore's office: "I don't think I am like him! I am Gryffindor!". And Dumbledore offers him a wisdom nugget: "It's our choices which define who we are" (paraphrasing). Harry is uncomfortable that he empathises with Tom Riddle, his parents' murderer, at this point in the story.

In the first four books, his only proper personal conflict has been with Ron.

It is depressing to think about in these terms - but Ron is Harry's first experience of unconditional love (we can even put Hagrid here, but he is not the one who spends most time with Harry). And when Ron and him fight, Harry is so hurt by the prospect that he proceeds to abandon Ron before Ron abandons him. (the whole chucking a "Potter stinks" badge at him and making a jab about having a scar is what he wants, or the fight in DH where he yells "then leave! Pretend you have gotten over your spattergoit and have your mummy feed you up"). It's an interesting defense mechanism and he feels "corrosive hatred" towards Ron during these times because Ron and him aren't supposed to be like this. Ron is a certainty in his life. It's also why when Ron comes back, Harry either doesn't need him to apologise (as in GOF) or quickly forgives him in DH - although I do think Harry thinks the locket bit was punishment enough. But even without the whole locket, I think Harry has trouble holding Ron accountable in general beyond few slaps on the wrist - especially if Ron and he are on good terms.

5th Book: This is the transition point for Golden Trio friendship. Harry has come back from an immensely traumatising night at the graveyard and his PTSD isolates him from his best friends. This is also the point where Ron, especially after GOF, is aware of his romantic feelings for Hermione ("the perfume is unusual Ron", Hermione tells him in this book). So in this book, we often see Ron and Hermione on one side, with Harry on the other.

Ron is unwilling (quite like Harry in that respect) to engage him in a direct conflict, but he is also unwilling to shield him from Hermione's nagging in this book. This is why, OOTP is the book where you see Harry ignore or avoid Hermione and lie to her more than usual to avoid conflict. For example, he tells her that Snape thinks he can carry on Occlumency once he got the basics - that is categorically not what happened. Or the entire day he spends ignoring Hermione's warnings about breaking into Umbridge's office. (The description here is comical - about Hermione vehemently hissing so much that Seamus Finnigan is checking his cauldron for leaks. ) If he cannot lie to her or avoid her, at the end of the rope, he will treat her to display of his frightening temper.

Interestingly, OOTP is also the book that his world view goes through a tremendous upheaval: mainly, his ideal of his father and having empathy for Snape. It is unnerving for Harry to see Snape being the "boy who cried in the corner" when his father shouts at a cowering woman. Similarly unnerving is that his intense empathy for him - "he knew exactly what Snape felt when his father taunted him and judging by what he had seen, his father was every bit as arrogant as Snape always told him".

While he is placated that his father grew out of it, this memory of his father being a bully is something he cannot bear to watch again in DH. Few chapters later, he grins at Ron "sweeping his hair" back to make it look more windswept, just like his father - suggesting that Harry is beginning to integrate two conflicting things he knew about his father: from the people who loved him vs the people he was cruel to.

6th Book onwards: It's interesting to me that his better appreciation for Hermione comes after OOTP (one, because she is the one who challenged the whole Ministry plan and she followed him into a trap knowing it was one anyway) but also the timing of it is in line with Harry having a more nuanced understanding of his father. He struggled to hold conflicting information about him into one cohesive person - the boy who was a bully vs the man who joins Order of Phoenix to fight a war he could very well have sat out. The pedestal crashing helped Harry gain nuance (he thinks of his father and mother with pride in HBP - of them walking into an arena with head held high). HBP also sets up his deeper understanding with Snape in DH. There is lovely meta by about this by thedreamersmusing. Read it here. HBP is also the book he feels "sorry" for Voldemort and also feels "reluctant admiration" for him - both of things he is less defensive about.

And this nuance informs his relationship with conflicts - especially the kind he has with Hermione. He is more confrontational with her and does not lie or sneak around her as much as he did in OOTP in the Half Blood Prince. ("Finished? Or do you want to see if it does back flips?" He asks her when she takes the book from him to check if it's jinxed. Or the "I hope you enjoy yourself" he calls out irritably when she declares intention to find out who HBP is. And "do you want to rub it in Hermione? How do you think I feel now?" He tells her when she says she was right about HBP).

The fact that he is willing to be confrontational with her is a big step in his character - a step up from his unregulated outbursts in OOTP, which is a function of him not knowing how to put his anger across in normal ways. He is also more willing to stand up for her in front of Ron too - "You could say sorry" he tells Ron bluntly. This is in contrast to his more quiet standing up for her in POA: "Can't you give her a break?" Harry asked him quietly. In POA, he lets the subject drop after Ron flatly refuses. Here, he presses on more : "What did you have to imitate her for?" "She laughed at moustache!" "So did I, it's the stupidest thing I have ever seen".

His relationship with Ron is an interesting contrast to his relationship with Hermione, which functionally teaches a very important lesson for an abused child who thought all conflicts are bad: That his friendship with her is challenging, and frustrating, filled with conflicts but their love for each other isn't disputed. It's a very important thing for brain development in general - to hold conflicting information in one space. The defense mechanism abused children do to avoid this is called splitting.

So, Ron allows Harry to be the age he is: a teenager and it's foundation for his further development, and Hermione teaches him how to be an adult, and therefore, spurs his growth. (In esoteric terms, if you look at Ron and Hermione as proxy parents - Ron is the Mother archetype, the one who offers unconditional love. Hermione is the Father archetype - one who demands best of him, and guides him).

Additional reading: Harry, Prongs and Prince - Harry's Inner Struggles For Forging An Identity. By u/metametatron4

Harry Identifies, and Reluctantly Admires Snape Even Before The Prince's Tale by thedreamersmusing

#harry james potter #hp meta #harry potter character analysis #hp character analysis #golden trio #golden trio analysis #harry x ron x hermione #harry and ron #harry and hermione #ron x Hermione #severus snape #james Potter #harry potter #tom riddle #albus percival wulfric brian dumbledore #albus dumbledore #metas #harry potter and order of phoenix #harry Potter and half blood Prince

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alwaysdarkestbeforethedawn94 · 4 years ago

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Work You Out (M)

Authors: @alwaysdarkestbeforethedawn94 and @nomunamuinmybrain

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Everything marked as M includes explicit content. Do not read if you are under 18 years of age.

Genre: Slice of Life/ Idol AU/ Smut

Summary: Working for Hybe has been an experience. Being Jungkook's manager is another story. His sharp eyes, firm jawine and snarky attitude was a deadly combination to begin with. The guy easily found his way to your heart and you simply couldn't take it anymore.

Notes: Hello!! That's another installment of the imaginary scenarios myself and my best friend @nomunamuinmybrain come up with while driving by the coast line. This oneshot is going to be cross-posted on her profile too. Enjoy!!

Word Count: 2.4K

Thinking back to how I managed to land such an unimaginable employment opportunity must have been a miracle. Unquestionably, working for HYBE had so many benefits; I swore to never leave this place. Sure, I was a simple manager's assistant, but I was by the side of one of the managers that handled the most important talent in the stretch of South Korea, the entire globe to be honest, BTS. I was assigned the position of assistant to the manager of one of the guys, none other than Jeon Jungkook. I really couldn’t believe my luck. Not only was I a part of one of the most skyrocketing influential enterprises in the country, but I also had the chance to meet some of the most inspiring people in the whole world! Who would have thought?!

Did I have a crush on the guy by the end of my first month working here? Yes, but who wouldn't? He is the sweetest, always polite and courteous. I've met my share of self-boasting asshats; this industry is flooded with such. This guy is worth billions and he has remained ridiculously humble. Word got around about him being a wonderful young man and I could positively say he is so much more up close. Jungkook is ridiculously handsome that’s a given already, but his personality was the real deal-maker. He reminds me of a dark stormy thundery night where I cover myself with my favourite warm fluffy blanket starring out of the window a rich flavored hot chocolate in hand.

In general, I quite enjoy working at the company’s principled environment. Don’t get me wrong, nothing in this world is rainbows and butterflies, but overall, I can confidently say that it’s been a mainly positive experience. Thankfully, the department I am in is assembled by kind, funny people who like to get things done. There hasn’t been a day were I regretted coming here. As for my daily duties as an assistant, working for Jungkook meant keeping up with his appointments, helping him with anything at anytime, managing his schedule, making sure it matches with the other guys' and so much more. I was required to work around the clock and as a single independent woman in her late twenties who was trying to figure out the world around her that didn’t sound like such a bad idea, though I digress. Essentially, I was one of the employees responsible for pretty much anything and everything he needed. Our department was at his disposal 24/7 running around, living that busy life.

That's until the pandemic struck. That was the first time I thought to myself that this might be nature’s valiant plan to get back what man so forcefully took from her. Suddenly, everything was canceled; life got put on a hold. My dearest supervisor, Jungkook's manager, had to stay at home because he had kids. In fact, a lot of people had to stay at home. Abruptly, days became weeks and weeks became months. The desperation and frustration we were feeling was like nothing else ever experienced. Truthfully, it felt like something had been stolen from us and we could never get it back. In this manner, when the gears finally started grinding again I was assigned to be the on-site manager for Jungkook. That meant being in direct contact with him more so than before and of course, being responsible for a ton of other obligations.

Not going to lie, the first months were slightly awkward for both of us and understandably so. We both were used to very different working arrangements. I might have been working behind the scenes before, but now I had to step into the spotlight becoming his own personal shadow, and I am sure he wasn’t really comfortable with that. Taken into account the current situation everyone looked like a volcano ready to erupt.

Once, I happened to accidentally step in a not so common incident; maybe it was a circumstance I wasn’t supposed to witness. He was on the phone at the time, when I saw him. That’s why I decided it was best if I stayed behind the half closed door of the studio. I couldn’t hear what he was saying and it was none of my business after all, but I could tell by the minute I laid my eyes on him that something was wrong. Something had been bothering him; irritation written all over his face. He was pacing back and forth, phone still on his ear. He was clenching his fist so hard I wondered if his nails cut into his skin. He was breathing heavily, almost as if he would burst and his muscles grew tense.

Then, in an instant, it seemed that the call ended and as he was putting the phone in his pocket he slammed his fists down onto the table a loud bang echoing in the room. After some consideration, I knocked on the door to make my presence known and he sharply looked at me. Without having the chance to say anything to him he let out a loud growl and left the room leaving me dumbfounded and unaware by the door. Soon after that, he apologized for the way he acted confessing that he had an unfortunate falling out with one of his closest friends and at the time he couldn’t process what was happening. I would never forget that day. It was the day I came across a not so familiar side to him.

From that day forward, things miraculously became easier and Jungkook was way more relaxed around my presence, we joked around often and he even texted me to ask about a variety of things outside of regular working hours. We managed to develop a teasing relationship full of endless borderline flirtatious banter. He had this other side to him that only a selected few got the chance to know. Jeon Jungkook was indeed a comforting raging night, but he was also an infuriating playful mischievous brat when he wanted to be. This in all honesty, made him a hundred times more irresistible in my eyes.

Life was going on smoothly until Jungkook decided that taking after midnight trips to the gym was perfectly acceptable, insisting that I escort him instead of his bodyguard. I cursed every single time but I went anyway. Forty-five minutes after midnight he was lifting weights, unbothered. Taking secret short glances towards him I contemplated what I had done in my previous life to deserve this torment. Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t care less about the late hour, but to have this view in front of my eyes was causing me both mental and physical pain. The guy was clearly sculpted by the gods. With his broad chest, muscular arms and thick thighs he could have anyone he ever wanted. He even sported an hourglass figure; He is insanely unreal. That’s the main reason why I decided to sit there preoccupied with a silly game on my phone to kill time until the suffering ended. I was barely hanging from a string at the verge of blowing off the barrier between my personal and professional life.

Out of the blue, with a loud grunt, he dropped the weights, drawing me out of my contemplation. He looked annoyed for whatever reason. He tried his best to seem nonchalant but it was obvious, in his beautiful stern eyes. Could he be craving for an audience? Abandoning every rational thought I had, I put my phone away, looked in his direction as I got up to get water. I smirked at his clear annoyance. Surely, we weren't supposed to interact with the artists this way but I am cranky and sleepy, and for the first time ever, he was being kind of an ass to me. Was I perhaps the reason behind his sudden personality change? The thought kept floating at the back of my mind.

This kept going on for about three weeks or so and I gave him nothing. His annoyance prominent in his expression, more and more as the weeks went by. He was hot but I am sure all he had been seeking was an audience given that he missed it, or so I thought. Thursday evening rolls around and I was particularly iffy tonight ‘because I was extremely frustrated, sexually. This one was making my situation worse, sporting a tight black tank top and skinny grey sweatpants which made him look like a treat. He could easily pass for a bodyguard with those broad well-built shoulders. As my eyes scanned his body I realized this was the first time his tatted sleeve was on display. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander. By the time I was done his eyes were already fixed on mine and I turned away immediately, embarrassment written all over my face.

Seeking solace in the women’s bathroom I tried to extinguish this ravenous yearning. The feeling of cold water did nothing to help the burning desire that was building inside me. Without warning, a knock at the door was heard, his sweet angelic voice following "Are you okay?" he asked, the remnants of a smirk could be heard still. "Jungkook you cannot be here, I am okay. I'll be out in a minute." I exclaimed, as calm as I could. "It's been ten minutes. I can't continue unless you're there." He insisted, I heard him chuckle after that.

With that, it was now or never, I pushed the door’s handle and made my way outside rolling my eyes in the process and he caught that, quickly moving closer, clearly annoyed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in my features, making him look not quite intimidating but definitely interesting. No, it was my mistake. Not just interesting, he looked ravishing. "As I said, I'll be out in a minute. Then you can finish up" I argued. But he didn't budge, moving even closer, if that was even possible, he was almost a breath away. "I don't feel like working out anymore" he declared like a child whose toy was taken away from him. As if I chose to play heads or tails with my career, I poked the beast further, "What is it that you want to do then?" I asked making sure he heard the annoyance in my tone. Coming even closer, to the point where he was completely pressed up against me, "You" he uttered calmly yet authoritatively. Before I could process what he had just said his soft lips crushed mine with a vengeance, thirsty. Pulling my lip with his teeth, he kept planting kisses from my lips to my jaw trailing down to my neck and décolletage; a surprised panting left my lips.

It felt as if I had involuntarily awakened this beastly hunger within him. His kisses insatiable and his touch was possessive, "I've been thinking about this for so long" he confessed as he took my hoodie off. "Sitting there, not giving a word let alone a glimpse. If you think this is off-limits you're wrong" he growled pointing at himself. "I can guarantee that once we're done here you definitely won't be able to look at me, ever." As he said all that, he managed to get me in a compromising position against the sink, his slim waist in between my legs. He kept my gaze as he lowered his head between my thighs. Little shit kept giving me hickeys on the soft flesh of my inner thighs, so close to my now dripping core. He enjoyed tormenting me and it showed. I was helpless but oh, God was all of this hot. He licked a stripe over my soaked panties, "Oh baby, you smell delicious" and with one hand he took off my underwear completely.

He sank in my folds, letting a guttural moan that I felt vibrating through my core. Not being able to think about what was happening I let myself indulge in my carnal desire my hands tangled in between his luscious hair.

He loved food and I've watched him eat before, but this must be one of his favorites ‘cause he was doing his best not to let a drop go to waste; he acted like a man starved. His hands held me in place, thankfully, ‘cause everything was too much; nothing could stop me from shaking, feeling everything deep in my core, he was too much. He just had to be good at everything. He kept a torturous tempo, from sucking my clit to his sinful tongue penetrating me, and as tears gathered around my eyes he decided to add his slender fingers in bringing me closer to heaven than I've ever been. "That's it baby, let go. Let go for me" he exhaled and just like that I had the most intense climax. My limbs felt numb, my whole body felt like rubber.

Before I could register what was happening he was back at it, sucking my over stimulated clit, my thighs unconsciously closing around his head as oversensitivity hit. "One more, please, come on baby, you can do it" he begged. He kept pumping his fingers while sucking my clit, as if it was his only goal in life. My screams muffled through my own hand clamped on my mouth as I reached my high for a second time that night. I felt it take over me with such intensity I didn't register what had happened. He emerged from between my thighs, soaked from me squirting and with a proud look on his face he declared "Now I look like I had the workout of a lifetime".

He helped me get dressed and pulled me close for a soft peck. He must have noticed my concerned look because he wrapped his arms around me in a warm hug and said "Don't be scared about this, we can work it out. I really like you and I'd like you to stick around". Starring into his eyes, I nodded and he pulled me close for the sweetest kiss, trying to tame my bewildered hair. He helped me get dressed and got out the door first to make sure that no one was around. I waited for a moment and then I got a text.

#bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x y/n #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine

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thattimdrakeguy · 3 years ago

Note

Started thinking about the idea of swapping Kon and Cassie for the formation of YJ, which leads me to two questions for you: 1) Do you have a 90s Cassie Recommended Reading List? Want to do a little research first. 2) Do you have any ideas yourself? (I’m just curious) Thanks for your time!

I read all of these, but--

https://comicvine.gamespot.com/wonder-woman/4050-3824/object-appearances/4005-10885/

Use this to fill in the gaps, and stop at Wonder Woman #136. Because that'll be all the ones written by her creator. I just went past to see if I could learn more about her school life, but it just wasn't happening.

The one issue that focused on it was absolutely terrible. They got Mark Millar, for only one issue, and he made Cassie the most generic typical teenage girl character ever, obsessed over a boy and changing how she looks to impress him, just for it all to be okay by just being herself.

She didn't act anything like Cassie. They made fun of her physical appearance. Put her in a mini-skirt, and had her and Cissie talk about if they should make Cassie's boobs look bigger.

And while I'm sure real girls are like, that and do that sort of stuff, it's not who Cassie was. Which is the problem--beyond a grown man writing about teenage girl’s boobs.

I greatly question the choice on hiring a 30 something year old man to write a singular issue of Wonder Woman focusing on the life of a teenage girl still in High School with a crush.

After reading it I straight up stopped reading any farther because I thought it was absolutely ridiculous.

---

And as far as the starting members of Young Justice being Bart, Cassie, and Timmy? Hmmm.

I'm going to say going with the characterization going with what their creators intended. Cause I do think Young Justice, characterization wise, was pretty freaking shabby. Which sucks, because it really is super funny.

But I think--hmmm.

I think the dynamics would be more like this.

Cause Tim was intended to be this morally innocent, very naïve little boy, who was pretty oblivious. And I keep saying socially oblivious with him, because that's part of it. But I should specify that he isn't a social mess. He can talk just fine, and can even be a great talker. He's just very obviously oblivious of a lot of stuff people his age and older are aware of.

Cassie's a wild-child who stays out past her curfew to party, thinks fights and battles are extremely cool, and while clever herself like Timmy, she gets ahead of herself often and ends up getting hurt. She's head-strong before anything else and doesn't like having to be protected. But she still does her best and shows that by baby sitting kids, and still being very quick-witted.

Bart is a total airhead, who quite literally doesn't know how the world works. Not in the Timmy way, but in a "I was literally raised in a video game" way. He's ill-tempered, can't relate to anyone, but loves doing Super Hero stuff and playing video games.

So I feel like their whole vibe would be like--sleepover time.

And the first issue of the actual series they're literally having a sleepover and stuff, but I mean, because I don't actually think Tim would be this Batman-esque figure, and try to act like him to be leader. I think it would be that without any sense of responsibility until they try to solve a crime.

Tim was made to be a positive-thinking, grounded person. Not a grump.

But if anyone was going to be trying to keep a lid on things it would still be Tim. He's the most level-headed one of the group so he'd have to be or else they'd all be running face first into walls.

At the same time though, I think, cause of Tim being the youngest looking, the most innocent minded, and well, literally being the youngest kid. He's have more of a little brotherly role despite being the one that keeps the lid on things. Like he'd naturally be the one that gets teased the most in that vein, and probably be protected more--Not cause he can't help himself, but I just think that because the others are both Super Powered, it'd be a reflex, and Young Justice itself originally portrayed Tim as being way more talented than he actually is. His whole thing was not being the best, but trying his best.

I think by default Cassie might have that sort of--older sister power, though. Mainly cause she's a babysitter and she's used to having to deal with brats. Just not ones closer to her own age. Even though Bart is actually the oldest of the three.

Bart's probably just a chill middle child that still gets into trouble a freaking lot, which freaks out baby brother, and makes older sister sigh, while they gotta bail him out.

Cause Tim's more prone to anxiety than Cassie is. Cassie just gets freaking annoyed over worried lol.

Also with Tim and Bart on two totally different sides of the responsibility spectrum, Cassie who's right in the middle sort of has to be the one to keep the oil in the machine or else they'd never get anything done. She's the deciding factor, and it's like flipping a coin if she's going to wanna do what Tim wants or what Bart once.

Timmy just has to deal with it and hopefully him and Cassie will be clever enough to keep them out of too much trouble.

And I feel like there'd be them mostly just playing around as kids and just talking about their interests. Because they can relate to each other a lot more, especially Tim and Cassie interest wise.

So more chaos, more kids being kids, and it being a lot more dorkier.

They'd probably just hang around Cassie's place all the time being partially babysat by Diana I imagine. Because they'd be less of a young Super Hero team, and more of just friends being friends, and they all happen to be Super Heroes.

No real leader role. Cassie and Tim both serving functions of a leader, but ultimately not a straight up leader. Tim's just the most grounded, morally innocent, and intuitive one, while Cassie I think would have the actual role of authority over them all. Her boys just following her around.

Cassie's also the most socially normal one. Bart literally doesn't know a freaking thing. Tim's not good at realizing how others will feel, and will actually break into your house with the most innocent of intentions, but still, that's wrong and creepy.

So she'd be there to reel the boys back from their weirdness. Someone's gotta pull Tim out of the trash cans looking through people’s garbage trying to solve mysteries.

I'm not sure if I explained any of that well, but that's the basics of what's in my head when I try to picture what they'd be like together.

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spencer-reid-in-a-pool · 4 years ago

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It Was You All Along (Part 6)

Author’s note: I want to thank @ayyyyitswednesdaymydoods for helping me and listening to me ramble constantly about this series. I know I am probably annoying, but she inspired much of this fic just through our conversations and I am so thankful every day that I met her and that she is my friend. This chapter is Jaskier’s POV, so hopefully you will learn more about that night that (Y/N) eavesdropped! Enjoy~

Tags: @ayyyyitswednesdaymydoods @blackjay04 @mxsmwndr @bravelittlesunflower

-----------------------------

If the gods could have blessed me with some other talent besides music, it should have been the ability to figure out where the hell I was in this forsaken forest. I wish I knew how to map out these routes in my head like Geralt seems to do, but I simply can’t. I guess you could say it was my own fault for running off after the attack, but I couldn’t risk getting punched again. Gods know that I am the one bringing in the most money, what with my music and all. Witchering be damned.

I mean, what can I say? I’m irresistible.

The trees in front of me seemed to stretch out infinitely, and I sighed as I came to a stop. I knew Geralt would be alright, of course. My thoughts were mainly focused on (Y/N) and where she might have ended up. I couldn’t help but think us getting separated was my fault. But I only did what I thought was right in the moment, and that was getting her as far away from the danger as possible.

She has been acting a bit strange lately, and that consumed my thoughts going forward. Was it... girl problems? Those happen monthly, right? Wait- what month is it?

A snapping sound drew me from my thoughts and brought me to another abrupt stop. It sounded far away, so I decided not being around to find out what made the noise was the best course of action.

It was starting to drop dark now, and I had found a fallen log to sit on and rest. It was so quiet. I hated the quiet. My thoughts and fears were always loudest then, so I decided to pull out my lute and strum mindlessly to bring about some comfort. Without meaning to, I started playing the song I was writing for (Y/N). It just kind of happened. I thought she was onto me and knew about the song when we arrived at that town the other day, but luckily she didn’t seem to pay any mind to it. If only she didn’t make me so nervous and loose-lipped, maybe she wouldn’t have even realized the song was new and unfinished.

My heart sped up the tiniest bit as I played, just like it always did when I thought about her. Which was quite often, to be honest. I simply couldn’t help it. She was my muse, even if she didn’t know.

Of course, thinking about her made me think about the other night in the tavern with the other woman. A stab of guilt made my chest hurt, and I cursed myself for that night. (Y/N) didn’t seem to be catching on to anything I was doing, so I had wanted so badly to be distracted. How stupid was I to let that woman be my distraction? Incredibly. And I would regret it for the rest of my days.

Obviously, thinking about that night and that woman made me think of the conversation Geralt and I had after. I remembered the whole thing, surprisingly, considering how drunk I was. I think- no, I know- the cause of me remembering was how much I was thinking about (Y/N) then. How badly I had wanted that woman to be her, in my arms and safe and loved.

I told Geralt everything. But I’m sure he already knew with his Witchery-ness...I swear he could read minds sometimes.

I went to the woman’s room- I don’t even know her name, now that I think about it. I don’t think I asked. It didn’t really matter, because it wasn’t (Y/N). Instantly, I had regretted my actions. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want this woman on me, touching me. So as soon as I had come back to reality, I pushed her off, probably a bit too hard, and winced as I realized how purple my neck would be soon.

Of course she was hurt, and I felt awful. But a second later, she smiled at me with what looked like understanding on her face.

“It’s that girl down there, isn’t it? You’re thinking about her.”

I didn’t answer her, and she took my silence as a yes. And that was that. I spent the rest of the night getting drunk to try and drown away this feeling I had. It didn’t work, of course. I suppose karma was being her usual bitchy self. Although, I knew in my heart that I deserved it.

As I strummed her song over and over, I replayed the conversation Geralt and I had that night in my head.

“You couldn’t have been any quieter when coming in?”

I pulled out a chair and sat in it heavily, the drink and regret weighing me down.

“Shut up, Geralt,” I groaned.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

I was silent for a moment, and decided to just come out with it.

“You wouldn’t understand. I- I so desperately want (Y/N)...What do I do?”

If he expected something else from me, he made no mention of it. He simply stared at me with that same stupid expression he always had.

“You want advice? You need to grow a pair, Jaskier, and stop whining. Watching you be like this is incredibly exhausting.”

I sighed once more, like I had so many times previously tonight.

“That woman...seeing her was a bad idea. (Y/N) can’t know how I feel. At least, not yet. I don’t want her to know.”

He glanced at the wall for a split second, but I thought nothing of it. He was probably just tired of listening to me talk.

“You truly are an idiot. Both of you are.”

And without another word, he left for the washroom.

I played until it was pitch black outside, and even after for a little bit. I didn’t need light to see where the strings for her song were. I knew them by heart, even if it wasn’t quite finished yet. Only when my fingers started to ache did I stop, and I didn’t really want to. Playing her song made it feel as if she was right next to me.

I sighed and placed my lute down gently before laying myself down next to it. There probably wasn’t a really comfortable spot around here, so I balled up my doublet and used it as a makeshift pillow. Before long, I fell asleep and dreamed of (Y/N) all night, as I so often had since meeting her for the first time.

When I woke in the morning, it was just after dusk, and a bit cold out. I put my doublet back on quickly and grabbed my lute, ignoring the ache in my back and the growl coming from my stomach. There wasn’t really much else to do besides start walking and hope for the best.

Eventually, I made it to a small, run-down cottage near a stream. It was as good a place as any to rest and catch my breath. There didn’t seem to be anyone home, but I knocked nonetheless. What can I say? I’m a gentleman.

No one answered, so I let myself in. But what I didn’t realize was that the door was on its last limb, so as soon as I opened it, it collapsed onto the floor, sending up a cloud of dust and dirt directly into my lungs.

“Melitele’s tits,” I croaked.

After I recovered from my little ordeal, I dug around the place to see what it had to offer. Was it too much to hope for food?

I came across a plant potted in the corner. Underneath the cobwebs and dust, it almost looked edible. Almost.

“Should I?” I thought out loud.

I stared at it for a good while, heavily considering eating it, before realizing it was probably not a good idea.

“I should not.”

Defeated, I sat down on one of the rickety chairs, thanking the gods that it didn’t fall out from underneath me. Maybe I’ll eat my own arm off. Wait, then I can’t play the lute anymore...

“Bollocks...”

I hadn’t realized that I had fallen asleep in the chair until I heard rustling and voices outside, which startled me awake. It looked to be later in the day, probably the afternoon. So I couldn’t really take off running- they would definitely see me.

The voices and footsteps got closer and closer. In a panic, I scanned the room looking for something- anything I could use to defend myself if need be. There really wasn’t much. The place has probably been ransacked more times than I can count.

Unfortunately, all I had was my lute. How horribly tragic.

I hunkered down in the corner farthest away from the door, and waited until they were right against the house before shouting, “I’ve got a very large- very hard sword! And I’m not afraid to use it. You had best leave- right now. Please.”

Idiot, why did you say please at the end? You sounded like an insufferable p-

“Jaskier!”

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t my name. And it definitely wasn’t (Y/N) stepping over the fallen door.

Time felt frozen for a second. A bit annoying really, considering how all I wanted to do was run to her and hug her. But she made it to me first, and before she threw her arms around me, I looked at her like it was the first time.

She was disheveled of course. Scratches and bruises decorating her skin. A particularly large bruise was right in the middle of her forehead. Wonder what caused that monstrosity.

Twigs and leaves and grass were twisted into her messy hair, and for a split second all I could think about doing was getting it all out for her and washing her hair. She’d like that, I think.

Even in her condition, I had never seen such a beautiful woman. And I realized that even looking at another for the rest of my days would simply be a sin.

Her arms finally fell around my neck, bringing me closer to her and back to the present. I took a deep breath, telling myself that this was actually real. She was actually here and she was okay, and I wrapped my arms tightly around her waist. I simply could not have her close enough to me.

I sighed her name, relaxing against her, and hoping against hope she couldn’t feel how hard my heart was beating right now.

Geralt stood in the doorway, his arms crossed. But there was a gleam in his eye.

“Shut up,” I mouthed silently to him, turning slightly with (Y/N) still in my arms as if I was hiding a sweet I refused to share.

He simply shook his head, and stepped back through the doorway from where they came.

Geralt and I sat around the fire now. (Y/N) was asleep a few feet away, curled up on a ratty old blanket laid out on the forest floor. I couldn’t help but watch her sleep. She was so peaceful. So beautiful. There wasn’t a single thing I would not do for her.

I had spent the better part of an hour picking out all the offensive bits of nature in her hair, and combed it out as best as I could.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, darling,” I had said to her after finishing with her hair, “But what in the gods’ holy names happened to your forehead?”

Her expression fell instantly, and she grumbled something under her breath. I leaned in closer to hear what she had said, ignoring the weird expression on Geralt’s face.

“I ran into a branch while I was escaping on Lily.”

If she hadn’t had such a pitiful look on her face, I would have lost my shit then and there, laughing until I felt sick. But I managed to stifle it, if only to laugh about it later.

“What a special girl you are,” I said instead.

She turned away from me for a moment before telling me to shut up.

Geralt’s words startled me from my recounting of the events in my head.

“If you don’t tell her, I will. You’re ridiculous.”

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, and quickly turned away from (Y/N)’s sleeping form.

“I’ll tell her. Just...not yet. When the time is right. She deserves to know, even if she doesn’t feel the same.”

His only response was a sigh. Then he laid down on the other side of the fire, facing away from me.

That was fine. I’ll be up a while, and I preferred it that way right now. Perhaps I’ll finish her song...

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arigatouiris · 4 years ago

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a regular movie cliche // hawks

Author’s Note: Hawks is just Kuroo with wings, yanno? I mean— he didn’t even need to be in the anime to be attractive geez. Also, I’ve started commissioning fics, so if any of ya’ll are interested, please check out my post on my page and get back to me if you have any requests! I hope you like this one shot! Thanks for reading~!

Word count: 4606

Pairing: Hawks x Reader

Warnings: angst, quirkless reader, fluff, slight sexy times uwu

There was no surprise in the fact that Hawks couldn’t sleep that night. Sleep was mainly just broken bits of unconsciousness that embraced him and left him cold; Hawks was pretty much used to waking up and feeling tired, but that morning, he not only felt tired, he felt broken.

He thought of you.

He lay still on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the slow movement of the ceiling fan did little to distract him. He laid his arm over his forehead before feeling the familiar sense of dread envelope his features. He could practically hear his heartbeat against his ears, and a mild ringing sound that vibrated against his temple. He didn’t know what these meant, he didn’t know why he thought of you that morning, especially after having forcefully pushed you out of his life himself.

It’s been a few months since he had last seen you, and he wondered if adult relationships were supposed to be complicated. As a teenager, he barely had time to focus on the girls who were pining after him; some were blatant, some were shyly leaving him letters and hoping he’d respond, but he was cold to each and every single one of them. He had been cold to every partner he had in the past, and he especially was cold to you, but why did it hurt him instead of hurt you?

Ah yes.

It was the age-old fear.

Hawks was worried that someone could happen to you because of him. Therefore, he took the coward’s way out and managed to run away before anything could manifest, before people could use you against him, turn you into the only weapon that could bring Hawks down. It was an age-old fear because which hero didn’t worry about that? Hawks had always worked alone, and now, bringing you along, especially after discovering that you were quirkless, there was no way Hawks could let you in. He told himself it was for your benefit, he’d rather not have your mind on his hands, after all. There was no use running away from this fact; Hawks wasn’t the type to deny his own emotions. He’d accept them, but he wouldn’t chase after them. To him, you would always be the woman who he almost, almost fell in desperate love with.

But to you...

To you, he’d remain the toxic playboy that took your virginity and left you. Ghosted you after leaving you a vague ‘This ain’t working out’ message. He understood that there was no way you would ever forgive him for what he did; he had encroached through your boundaries, despite how well he knew you guarded them, and he had made use of you. You would never forgive him, moreover, he would never forgive himself.

He realized a moment later that he hadn’t moved, and he had work to do. He was the #2 Hero now, there was no room for him being a bum and thinking about someone he knew he had to eventually leave behind.

“Ah, there we go again,” He grumbled before getting up from the bed, mentally preparing himself for another routine-filled day.

Each day felt like an extension from the last. Hawks realized a while ago, after leaving you, that the plot of his life doesn’t make sense to him anymore—that although he thought he was following the arc of a story, a story he had carved for himself out of sheer willpower and hard work, he kept finding himself immersed in passages he didn’t understand, that didn’t even seem to belong in the same genre—which required him to go back and reread the chapters he had originally skimmed to get to the good parts, only to learn that all along he was supposed to choose his own adventure.

Instead, he was filled with a gnawing bitterness that seemed to swallow him every day. Hawks wasn’t a pessimist, but realism pinned against pessimism rather strongly, he wasn’t against the idea of not being optimistic because that didn’t work. He’d wake up, go on his rounds, head to his agency and fill out paperwork or ask one of his assistants to do it. He’d return, eat chicken wings till he got tired, watched a TV show, go around flying, and struggle to sleep. This was what had become of the #2 Hero’s life.

As he flew to begin his rounds that morning, Hawks couldn’t help but think of you. You had the innate ability to ward yourself into his mind unwelcome and unannounced, it was strange not because he allowed it, but because he had no choice.

He could recall how he met you as if it was just happening.

Not often was he taken aback by a common villain. While he was strong in the air, a villain with a jet quirk proved to be a bit of a hassle; he threw a strong jet-powered gust of wind toward the winged-hero, which flew him directly into a building. The landing was quite rough, he had crashed through a window and fallen very harshly against a wooden flooring. He was thankful that his wings prevented any shard of glass from piercing his skin, but he wasn’t so sure about his new jacket.

“Are you okay?”

Hawks opened his eyes and spotted you, hovering over him with eyes filled with actual concern, your hair swept behind your head. He blinked a couple of times before focusing his gaze on your attire. What the hell were you wearing? He was sure he had seen it somewhere before, it seemed familiar, like the image was stuck in the back of his mind but he couldn’t quite place where he had seen it before.

“Are you concussed?”

He heard whispers around him now, and he was quite certain that the two of you weren’t alone. Hawks moved a bit to see young kids wearing a similar attire to what you were wearing, wooden sticks in their hands, their eyes holding the same concern; albeit, some of them actually recognized him for who he was.

“Sensei, that’s the winged-hero!”

“I’m aware of who he is, Mitsu-kun,” You answered, giving the young boy a mean look, “Mimi-chan, could you help me clean this up?”

This Mimi-chan yelped a very obedient ‘yes’ before scurrying off to, Hawks guessed, bring supplies. He watched you now, a smirk settling on his features. You didn’t look too worried, but you gave him a questioning look as if to ask him how long he planned on lying on your floor.

“I don’t mind crashing into buildings if you’re the view.”

Loud giggles could be heard across the room and he felt his heart flip at the way your face reddened instantly. You turned to your students, he assumed they were your students, and hushed them rudely, which sadly didn’t stop the giggling entirely. It was then he realized that his head was against your lap, because you pushed him away after he had flirted with you.

Something about the way you behaved let him know that you were not used to close interactions with men. The action was almost cute.

“Is that... kendo?” He guessed, knowing that he was right.

Finally, he thought internally. I was struggling to figure out what sport this was.

You nodded before standing up straight, taking the cleaning supplies from young Mimi. Hawks followed after you and shot her a smile, which made her eyes turn into hearts, which in turn had you glaring at the young girl like she had stolen your cookie. Turning to Hawks with a deadpan, you tilted your head a bit as if to ask him if he was forgetting something. Suddenly, his eyes widened and his wings spanned to his sides.

“I almost forgot about the villain,” Hawks turned to you and pointed rather accusingly, “Your fault for distracting me.”

“Please leave.”

Hawks laughed out loud before jumping up, “I’ll remember you, kendo-san!”

“Sensei, I think he likes you.”

“Mistu-kun, why don’t we have a spar?”

“I’m sorry, Sensei. I won’t say it again.”

It was the police radio that alerted him. Apparently there was a villain very close to where your kendo studio was located, but Hawks wasn’t the sort to let that bother him. He flew around the area he patrolled, knowing full well that your kendo studio did not even come close to where he was assigned. He didn’t know what kind of villain it was, but if it were a regular villain, there surely had to be other heroes around that could maintain said peace.

Also, if the villain were to apprehend you, it wasn’t his concern anymore. Hawks had severed ties with you for a reason and if he were to keep worrying over a past flame the way he was, then the entire ordeal wouldn’t make sense.

She’s strong, he thought internally as his eyes scanned for crime in his own area. Even if she’s quirkless, she’s real strong.

Hawks tried telling himself that more than anyone else. True, he knew you were strong. You were a kendo trainer, having mastered the art at such a young age. It had been passed down in your family, and you were simply carrying it forward with such tenacity and skill that left him floored. His mind travelled back to the time he had asked you out, or if he were to recall correctly, the time you had said yes to him after his weeks of pining after you.

He spotted you in the supermarket from a distance. You often cursed at his eyesight because of how he always managed to catch you from such a far off distance. Chuckling to himself, Hawks landed right in front of the supermarket before following you inside, tapping your left shoulder and moving to the right; an antic that kids did when they were around their crushes.

You turned to your left and spotted no one, but the annoying chuckles filled your ears and your face immediately turned to an ugly deadpan before you turned to face Hawks’ rather amused smirk.

“That’s not funny.”

“That’s because you’re a grouch.”

Scoffing, “I’m not a grouch, you’re just very annoying.”

“I see you’re having a rather hard time choosing between shrimp and chicken,” Hawks said, bringing his hands behind his back and coming to stand beside you, “Pick the chicken.”

“I want to treat myself a bit tonight,” You said, “So chicken really isn’t—”

“Ah, then you should definitely pick the chicken.”

You frowned at him, “And why should I listen to you?”

Hawks leaned forward toward you, noticing how easily your cheeks turned red. But, you didn’t budge. You knew of his flirting, it was slowly easing into you—your initial displeasure with how easily he could fluster you left you a bit angry, but this was Hawks. This was who he was. The more he leaned in however, you stumbled backwards a bit, his hand gripping your wrist to ensure you stood on your feet. You pulled away, your blush only intensifying.

“I didn’t take you as the shy type, kendo-chan!”

“I’m not shy,” you answered honestly, “I was just surprised.”

“Your face says otherwise.” His breath was on your nose, you forced yourself to turn away.

“Hawks—”

“Pick the chicken.”

“You haven’t told me why, Hawks-san.”

He didn’t waste time, “Because if you pick chicken, then you might just get a surprise visit later from a very famous winged hero.”

You chuckled at his words before turning away, intentionally heading to the vegetable section. Hawks let out a mild groan before following you like a child, noticing how you sported a rather amused grin on your face. It played with his heart.

“What if I want to eat alone?”

“Aw, that’s too bad. This winged hero wants company.”

You rolled your eyes before picking out a few vegetables, not sure where your conversation was going. Hawks was suddenly telling you about candy he ate as a child, and you were telling him about Harry Potter—which stumped you, because you barely spoke about your interests with people, let alone heroes who were flirting with you blatantly.

“Oh, I’ve read those!”

Your eyes twinkle at Hawks’ revelation and you turn to him with wonder. Hawks noticed the star-struck expression on your face before an evil grin plastered on his face. He nodded before raising a pointer finger.

“My favorite character was Voldemort,” Your wonder filled smile froze. “He’s super cool! I was rooting for him—”

You turned on your heel before walking away, finally having realized what he was doing. Sure, you could tolerate some teasing; but you were not a pushover. You were frowning now, before heading to the meat section, picking out shrimp was the last choice—

“Ahhh, come back!” Hawks said rather pathetically, laughing at his own failed joke.

You stopped all of a sudden, before your hand moved to the chicken. Hawks’ eyes widened before he noticed you, a calm expression on your face. You weren’t shy, that’s what you had said, but here you were. Face red, not meeting his eye, barely moving.

“I... I don’t cook too well.”

‘Fuck’, Hawks thought before moving to hold the frozen chicken and inspect it, ‘She’s so fucking cute’.

“Don’t worry, I do.”

You’d picked the chicken that night.

Ah fuck it, he thought before flying down toward the kendo studio. He was just doing his job as a hero, that was it. He wasn’t expecting to see you or anything. He wasn’t trying to take a glimpse of how miserable you may have looked, so he could feed the demon inside his heart that told him you’d be much happier without him.

His heart froze when he spotted police cars right outside the studio. Upon spotting him, one of the cops rushed to him and started to say something, but all Hawks could do was look up at the first floor—where your studio was, and he suddenly felt like he was underwater.

“Hawks!”

He snapped out of it and looked at the cop in front of him.

“A hero with an implosion quirk’s taken students and a teacher hostage!” Ah fuck, “It’s a kendo studio. With a quirk like his, we can’t approach out of nowhere. He might harm the inhabitants. Sources say that the teacher is quirkless, and the students haven’t mastered their quirks.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, Hawks felt the panic grow inside of him.

“He’s made a statement asking the police to leave. He’ll hurt people if any hero is deployed to the scene.”

“Fuck.” Hawks let out, unable to contain the growing panic.

For the first time, he has no idea what to do. Turning to look at the first floor, he wondered what you must be feeling, what the students must be feeling, and he cursed himself. Perhaps, if he was with you...

His eyes widened. If he was with you, this wouldn’t have happened. It was even after pushing you away, you were in danger and it felt like his life was being trampled upon. The damage had already been done. There was no taking the fact away. He was in love with you. Your sass, your kind gestures, your shyness, he was in love with every aspect of you—and only when you were in danger did he get to realize this like a fucking movie cliche.

“We can’t let anyone near them for now,” The cop instructed him, “But, we’re waiting for backup from—”

He can’t lose you. But, can he lose you even if he doesn’t have you?

“We can’t wait.” Hawks said, eyeing the first floor.

You had no idea what you and Hawks were. You washed the dishes quietly, wiping them and placing them back in the counter. A soft smile sat on your lips as you realized you missed the bird brain when he wasn’t around. It had been close to a week since you last saw him—the previous rooftop date that he had planned still fresh in your memory.

However, your face darkened when you thought of each time you kissed and how scared you felt. You were 21-years old, having never taken a lover before. You wondered how that would make him feel, considering he might have had some significant experience. You felt inadequate all of a sudden, the insecurity bubbled in your chest, but you thought Hawks was better that that. ‘What do I know?’ You thought, bitterly. ‘I want to know him, but he barely tells me anything.’

You had almost revealed your entire story to him. Of how you came from a kendo practicing family. Of how you were quirkless like your father, of how you spent more time training because you were insecure of never having a quirk.

You let out a breath when you realized that you had overshared because you didn’t know what the right amount of sharing was. Suddenly, the door to your balcony opened, and Hawks walked in—a bit battered up, and your eyes widened when he waved and grinned at you.

“There’s a front door...” You said, your eyes fixed on his form.

“Ah, yes, but the balcony was closer, dove.”

Hawks noticed how you were almost in awe upon seeing him, but he knew you missed him. His heart constricted abnormally at the thought, but he swallowed and waited for you to approach him. You threw your hands around him and hugged him, breathing into his grimy texture. You had missed him.

“Let me clean you up.” You whispered, and you knew he’d let you.

Hawks’ gaze was fixed on you as you cleaned his wounds. A smile sat on his lips as he carefully observed your every feature. Your hair was tied at the tip, forming a dolphin tailed split at the end, and your eyes were focused on cleaning his wounds.

“You missed me, didn’t you?”

“I did...”

Hawks couldn’t understand how you were so honest. It killed him that he couldn’t be the same. He believed you were the type to merely put up a tough exterior and be shy on the inside, but you were honest—unafraid to show your emotions to people. It was a trait he admired, and deeply envied.

Suddenly, Hawks grabbed your wrist before pulling you toward him and kissing you squarely on the lips. Your eyes widened at the sudden gesture, but you had missed him, so you kissed back, softly at first—before feeling his intensity rush through you like osmosis. You were breathing heavily when he moved to attack your neck, biting and kissing you exactly where you wanted him to, your eyes closed to make sure you felt everything to the maximum. Hawks’ hands travelled down to your waist before pulling you to him, and then sitting you down on his lap. He held you like you were made of glass, but kissed you like his life depended on it.

A moment later, your hands fall on his shoulders and you pushed so lightly that you thought he wouldn’t notice. However, he stopped instantly, looking you in the eye, searching for any sign of discomfort.

But you were looking at him with such a heavy blush on your face that he thought he could quite literally just die. You were so beautiful, the image haunted him.

“I...”

‘Do you want me to stop?’ He thought, waiting for you to say something.

“I haven’t done it with anyone before.” You whispered, avoiding his gaze.

Hawks’ eyes widened animatedly. A rush jolted through his body and all Hawks wanted was to be gentle with you that night. Softly, he pulled you close and your foreheads touched, and he smiled so warmly that you felt your heart could burst.

“Relax, little bird,” He whispered, before laying you down beside him gently. “And tell me if you’re sure.”

You didn’t know. But, he was hovering over you right then and was smiling at you—his attention undivided. You would be lying if you said you weren’t aroused, you would be lying if you said you didn’t want him. And the way he was looking at you right then, it left you more certain than unsure.

Your hands move to tug at his shirt, and Hawks let out a breathy chuckle.

“Don’t force yourself just because we’re in this situation, alright? I’m a horny bird, I can practically just push this to another—”

In one clean sweep, you put your hands around his neck and pulled him toward you, kissing him on the lips to shut him up. His eyes widened and he kissed back, chuckling against your lips.

“I’ll be gentle, dove.”

And he was. Every time Hawks touched you that night, you felt like you were melting into him. They were right about carnal desires being an effortless display of human affection to the maximum, but Hawks put in a lot of effort right then to ensure you were comfortable. Your bodies pushed and pulled against each other that night, shadows dancing on the wall, and everything he did, he did for you.

You collapsed to sleep instantly, against Hawks’ form, and he watched you intently. You cuddled to his left side, almost as if you were used to his warmth. Hawks felt uneasy, but he didn’t let it show. Just for that night, Hawks would love you openly. Just for that night, he won’t run—he held you against him, cuddling you to his chest, your face nestled at the crook of his neck. He felt the back of his eyelids burn at how comfortable he was right then, and how much his heart was telling him that he didn’t deserve any of this.

He kissed your forehead before feeling tears fill his eyes, but he was a master at blinking them away. He held you tight that night, because he believed it would be the last time.

Suddenly, he was afraid. He was afraid of loving you and losing you—he was afraid that his path would ultimately leave him alone, and after having a taste of you, Hawks’ feared being alone more than anything else.

Which was why, the following evening, Hawks broke things off with you via a vague text message.

A loud crash sounded from the first floor, and he didn’t waste time in rushing over to it. Hawks couldn’t think of anything but you, and his heart was rummaging against his chest. Rushing into the studio, he spotted you—above the said villain, your kendo sword pushed to his neck. Your knee was in between his legs, pinning him to the ground.

You look up to spot Hawks, gawking at what you were doing, and you yelled, “He was lying about his quirk! Get the students!”

He didn’t waste time before quickly grabbing a few of the students and bringing them down, it took him literally just two trips to get them all down. However, a moment later, you were on the ground, the villain had grabbed your hand—which emitted a rather strange light, clearly burning you through your uniform. You winced, right before Hawks pinned him down using his feathers. You ran downstairs, and Hawks apprehended the assailant. The villain’s quirk was sunburn, and he assumed that was what the burn was against your skin. He turned around and spotted you speaking to your students, worry plastered all over your features.

His heart tugged at how strong you were right then.

He almost forgot he was looking at you until you turned and looked at him. Your eyes widen for a second before a soft blush came across your cheeks, and you turned away, a nasty frown on your face. Hawks could literally feel his heart squeeze at the action, but it was entirely his fault. Letting out a breath, he knew he had to get out of there, but froze when he heard your voice from behind him.

“Thank you,” You were looking at him, the blush evident on your cheeks, “For saving me, and the students.”

He couldn’t believe you. His heart is practically breaking at how honest you were, at how pure you were—and he quite honestly knew right then that he didn’t even deserve to be standing in front of you. He notices your lower lip was quivering, which meant that you wanted to say something more but you were forcing yourself not to.

“(y/n)-chan,” He said, “I...”

You waited, your eyes were eagerly waiting for him to say something—anything that could quell the distance between you.

But when he looked away, your eyes widened at how he just gave up. You bit your lower lip before nodding once and turning to walk away, pausing for just a moment. Hawks notices the burn through your arm, the one the villain had given you, and he instinctively goes to touch it, but you pulled away.

“Takami Keigo.” Hawks froze.

“What... did you say?”

You look at him like he was an idiot.

“You told me your name that night.”

He does not remember doing that. Hawks could swear he never mentioned it—but a faint memory plays in the back of his mind and he wondered if it was a dream or if it had actually happened; turns out it did.

Hawks kissed your forehead for the thousandth time that night, unable to stop touching you. Sure, the two of you had done the deed, but Hawks was more touchy than he usually was.

“I’m sure you’ve wondered,” Keigo says in almost a whisper, “My name is Takami Keigo.”

“Takami... Keigo...” You repeated, deep in the confines of sleep.

Keigo chuckled before pulling you closer, leaning toward you, feeling tears sting his eye again.

“Fuck,” He breathes in, “You terrify me.”

You don’t stir. Keigo was quite positive that you were asleep.

“When I’m with you, I’m practically afraid all the damn time. Because... you can literally die because of me and I might not be able to help.”

You frown at him as shock plasters all over his face.

“You’re bound to be afraid all the time if you don’t tell me anything,”

Hawks looked at you like you were a godsend.

“And honestly,” you folded your arms, blinking away the tears stubbornly, “The fact that you think I’ll just up and die is so insulting. I’m strong, you know?”

When Keigo laughed right then, you turn to him with a surprised expression. You wanted to yell at him, but you were aware of his reservations. You were also aware of how he looked at you when he believed you weren’t looking. You were awake when he believed you were sleeping. You could see him blink away tears before he notices you looking, and it did quite a number on you.

Your expression softens, “You don’t have to be scared...”

In an instant, Hawks embraces you—right in public, your eyes widening at his sudden gesture. You gasp before trying to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. He breathed into your hair as if he finally found life again, and his grip merely just tightened.

“You’re embarrassing me! Hawks-san!”

He didn’t care. Hawks smiled widely as his wings wrapped around you as well, caging you to him. Your hands are at his side and you’re beating him playfully, but he doesn’t care. All he could sense was you.

“S-Stop! Hawks-san!”

He laughs out loud, feeling like it was the first time he was laughing.

“I love you so fucking much, little bird.” His voice broke at the end and you stopped.

Slowly, you hug him back, gripping the back of his jacket.

“I love you too, dumb bird.”

#hawks #hawks x reader #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami #bnha #bnha x reader #keigo x you #reader insert #boku no hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero headcanons #boku no hero imagines

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thatfrogkiki · 4 years ago

Text

Evanesco

Revolution (Royal Witch AU)

Chapter One: Evanesco

Draco Malfoy x royal!Reader

Author: @thatfrogkiki

Warnings: slowburn, swearing, political themes, eventual smut (everyone is 18+ in this AU), violence, etc.

Summary: A mysterious new student arrives at Hogwarts in everyone’s last year. The Reader piques Draco Malfoy’s interest in a conflicting way.

Word Count: 1227

Author’s Note: Hello, friends! This is honestly the first time I’ve ever written for the Harry Potter series, and it’s been forever since I’ve read all the books and even watches the movies, so I apologize if anything is severely inaccurate!! I decided to do an AU so it gives me more wiggle room for that! Please let me know what you think of this so far! I have a whole story planned out for this series, so I’m excited to try and see it through to the end!

Y/n = Your name

Y/m/n = Your middle name (going to be used as your fake last name)

~~~

*Draco’s POV*

It had been another exceptionally boring day at Hogwarts. I know it’s my last year here, and I should be making the best of the experience, but I can’t seem to. I’ve lost a lot of my friends over the years, simply because we’ve all changed as people and no longer hold the same interests, but, in a weird way, I feel better on my own this year. My rival, Potter, and his silly friends have all stayed together since the first year. I often wonder how they managed it.

I saunter my way down to the great dining hall, not particularly excited for tonight’s meal. At Hogwarts, you can have just about any meal your heart desires. However, my appetite has been dissatisfied for quite some time. Instead of eating, many nights, I simply daydream of the great things I’ll do once I’m graduated from here. I dream about the wonderful friends I’ll make, the countless adventures I’d have. But, for now, I’ll just have to ride it out until the end of this magical school year.

I sit down at one of the Slytherin tables with some of the other seventh year students I’m acquainted with, and we hold some slight conversation together, but it’s mainly about how bored we all are with Hogwarts living. There’s nothing new and exciting anymore.

“Attention, students!” Suddenly Dumbledore’s voice booms throughout the elongated room. In seconds, every voice is silenced.

“I am delighted to announce that we have a new student invited into our school!” He announces, and shocked gasps follow. I turn towards the headmaster and my gaze is immediately focused on a young woman that appears to be in our age range. Dumbledore mutters incoherently to the young woman, who then nods her head seemingly in agreement.

“Her name is Y/n Y/m/n, and she says she is excited to spend her last year of schooling with the rest of you all!” He smiles jovially, but Y/n’s expression never changes. It’s rather cold, in all honesty. I can tell she’s analyzing her surroundings with such focus. It’s rather distracting…

“Next, we shall quickly have her sorted into one of our houses!” Dumbledore continues to discuss something with Y/n. It bothers me how he always does this, always having secret conversations with annoying people.

“Slytherin!” I suddenly hear the sorting hat’s voice echo throughout the room, snapping me out of my own thoughts. Noise surround me as my fellow house members cheer and clap with excitement.

“Excellent! Now, enjoy the rest of your night and remain dedicated to your studies! We are so close to a new age in young witches and wizards such as yourselves, and thus you must learn as much as possible to be prepared!” Dumbledore cryptically finishes the ceremony, and my attention is brought back to Y/n who is heading our way.

“Y/n! Come sit with us!” Pansy calls out to her.

“What are you doing?!” I snap at Pansy for some reason. My nerves immediately twist in my stomach.

“Trying to make a good first impression… Who knows how this chick might help us this year, right?” She answers snarkily, which annoys me to some extent. Y/n doesn’t speak a word, but walks down the line towards our area of the long Slytherin table. When she reaches us, she looks me dead in the eyes, looks me up and down, then sits down next to me. A chill runs down my spine as I’ve never met someone so silently intriguing.

“Um… Hi!” Pansy extends her hand out and introduces herself and some of our friends to Y/n. Then it goes around to me, and everyone stares expectantly. I swallow the nervous lump in my throat, and speak up.

“H-hi… I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy…” I give a slight smile, but Y/n expression still never changes. Heartless…

“It’s good to meet you all.” I can tell Y/n is being dishonest.

“What’s your problem?” I ask out loud.

“I… I beg your pardon?” My comment seems to shock Y/n out of a funk.

“Um… Nothing, sorry… Forget I said anything…” I look away and mentally facepalm. I can’t believe I just sassed the new girl like that. She just seems to rude, I couldn’t help it.

“I need to go unpack. I hope to see you all again sometime.” I hear Y/n get up and walk away.

“Great, Draco! Now you’ve scared her off!” Pansy glares at me, and I look down.

“I know, I’m sorry… I just… Choked I guess…” I admit.

“You think she’s cute, don’t you?” She audibly smirks.

“Well, duh… Anyone can see she’s rather attractive… It’s more of an attitude thing that got to me.” I speak honestly.

“Look, Draco… I know you’re used to most people being delighted to meet someone like you, but she seems kind of out of all the status atmosphere here at Hogwarts… Maybe just try to be yourself and you’ll warm up to her and she’ll warm up to you, too,” Pansy explains, and I suppose I agree. I just need to act normally and not let her get to my head.

“I’ll try,” I state and get up from the table.

“Where’re you going? You haven’t even eaten yet,” Pansy asks with concern in her voice.

“Just gonna try to go apologize to Y/n,” I answer but don’t wait to hear what Pansy has to say. I walk at a decent speed out of the dining hall and towards the Slytherin Dorms, but I notice Y/n walking past them. I stay behind enough to not be seen by her but follow.

“Where the hell are you going?” I ask more myself. We continue walking apart until I realize that she’s heading towards the library.

“Why would she go to the library this late? She hasn’t even gotten any assignments to research yet…

She heads in, and I wait a few minutes before following to avoid suspicion from her and any others that might be watching. I slip in just before the cutoff for curfew. I quickly scan the rows of bookshelves for her, but she’s no where to be found. I tell myself I should probably leave before causing any trouble, but I know she’s in the restricted section. Something compels me to go catch her in there…

#draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #hp draco malfoy #hp draco #hp draco x reader #hp draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fanfiction #revolution #revolution chapter one #chapter one: evanesco #evanesco

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its-always-the-witching-hour · 5 years ago

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Chapter 2 of Apocalyptic AU - Sanders Sides

Here you guys go! The second chapter has arrived!

Word count - 1705

Pairings - Some Dukeceit

Warnings - (Spoilers) Blood, injuries, abuse (physical and emotional), peer pressure, bad pasts, fire, zombies

Characters - Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Deceit “Devan” Sanders

This is mainly the backstories of our other two darkside children. Enjoy! Also some soft stuff as well

Previous chapter - Next chapter

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“How did you injure yourself?”

It had been several weeks since Remus and Devan had found Virgil, and they were currently sitting around an open fire in the middle of an abandoned carpark - So they could see if anything came, Remus had stated, but the others suspected he just wanted a reason to start a dumpster fire. Remus was changing Devan’s bandages, and Vigil was attempting to heat up a can of baked beans they had found during a house raid.

Remus turned to give Virgil a hard glare at the question, which caused the anxious one to hurriedly start apologizing, “sorry it must be private you can tell me when you’re ready I didn’t mean to sound rude I was just curious because if I know what caused it I might be able to help more and-”

Devan cut him off by placing a hand on his arm, and one on Remus’ shoulder, “It’s fine. I guess that I should tell you how it happened.”

“Dee, are you sure? I know that it hurts to talk about it.”

“He deserves to know, Remus. I feel that we can trust him.”

“Okay… do you want to show him?”

“Yes.”

Remus began to unwind the old bandage on Devan’s face. Virgil tried to keep his face passive, but he had never seen Devan’s injury before, and he was a bit uncertain. The last piece of the cloth fell away to reveal a large burn mark covering the whole left side of his face. The skin around it was red and shiny, as though it had been larger before. As Devan moved his face, the newly formed scabs cracked and started bleeding again, but he only sighed. The eye that was usually covered by the bandages was still closed.

“Are you…”

“Blind in that eye? Yeah. I was born with a condition that made me lose the vision in one eye,” he opened the eye in question, revealing a cloudy pupil, and a strangely yellow iris, “the colour is to do with the condition.” He said blatantly, noticing Virgil’s confusion.

“My parents were… less than understanding. When they found out about my disease, they abandoned me to the streets. Just turfed me out with a blanket, some food and a change of clothes. No warning beforehand, no conversation to figure out what was going to happen to me, nothing. I was only 8 at the time.

“A child services officer found me a week later. They bought me to an orphanage, where I was adopted later by this woman and her husband. It was nice with them at first; they sent me to school, gave me gifts and were really understanding with my condition. Then I came out as gay. I was nervous about telling them, but I told myself that they would understand, but how wrong I was. My ‘mother’ had to actually run to the bathroom to stop herself from throwing up, and my ‘father’ hit me hard across the face. From that day on, my ‘parents’ hated me. Th-they threw bottles at me whenever I talked to them, and hit me for things that I couldn’t control. There was never a day when I was without bruises. They emotionally abused me too. Calling me slurs, a-and telling me that I was worthless, and I would never be loved, a-and that it was my fault that my birth parents had thrown me out-”

He was crying now, hiding his mutilated face in his hands with Remus having wrapped a protective arm around him. Virgil reached forwards tentatively and placed his hand on Devan’s arm. After a couple of minutes in that slightly awkward hug, Devan looked up, his face streaked with silver.

“T-thanks. I’m fine now,” He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand as Remus gave him a worried look, still not entirely convinced.

“When the day the zombies arrived, I was the first to see them. I went and told my ‘parents’, but the didn’t believe me, of course. My ‘father’, who was boiling water for a coffee, threw some at my face, where… where it did this,” He gestured weakly to the large half-healed scab.

“I ran upstairs; the pain was unbearable, but I managed to barricade myself in my room before I collapsed onto my bed. I think I passed out, but when I could move again, the zombies had left, and taken my ‘parents’ with them. I can’t remember how long I stayed there, nursing my wound until I decided to go out and search for survivors. It took a while, but eventually, I found Remus, and he helped me out,” Devan looked gratefully over at Remus, who blushed at the sudden attention.

“Well, yeah. If you hadn’t found me, I’d probably be dead.” Virgil looked at Remus with wide eyes, intrigued by where this was going.

“Where did you come from Remus?” Virgil queried, hoping to know more about his new friends. Devan looked at Remus with curiosity as well.

“Yeah, you never actually told me what happened to you. If you don’t mind sharing, that is.”

Remus looked away, and mumbled something under his breath, avoiding eye contact.

“Remus…?” Devan looped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

“Thanks Dee. It’s just… hard to talk about, you know?” Remus mumbled into Devan’s hair

“I think I do.”

“But I think I want to tell you guys. I need to tell someone, or it will eat me up inside.” He gently broke the hug and poked at the fire with a stick. “I have – had parents and a twin brother. And I guess I was responsible for their deaths.

“I was the youngest out of us, so my older brother, Roman, was always bossing me around. I hated it. He would tell me to clean his room, and when I refused he would tell our parents about the latest test that I failed. He did love me though. He always defended me when I was bullied in school for being weird, and he sat with me during lunch when I had no-one to talk to. He was like my best friend. Because he took care of me so often, I started to hang out with him and his friends. I could tell they didn’t really like me, but they never said anything rude to my face when Roman was around. One day, on the day it happened, we were hanging out around a closed supermarket. Roman’s friend Christian, I think it was, dared me to climb up onto the roof. Roman wasn’t happy about me doing it, but I’ve had worse dares. It didn’t take me long to find a way to climb up, by using the low hanging gutter and some garbage bins. I saw the first zombie when I was up there, and I tried to tell the others, but they thought that I was pranking them. I pranked my brother all the time, you see. When the other zombies appeared I knew that I had to do something to help them, but I couldn’t get down in time. They got Christian first, which to be honest, he had it coming. The others were quick to follow. I… I didn’t see Roman get turned, but I did see him run inside the building with a bunch of zombies chasing him, so… I could only presume the worst. I stayed up on the roof with my hands over my ears until they had all left, then I climbed down and went home. The zombies had gotten there first though. I stayed in my home, going over the situation over and over in my head, thinking of what I should have done better to help them. If only I had seen the zombie’s sooner, or to get Roman to climb onto the roof, or, or done something!” Remus was sobbing into Devan’s neck now, locked in a tight embrace between him and Virgil.

“There was nothing you could do Remus.” Devan rubbed his back reassuringly.

“Anyway, you didn’t actually see Roman die, so it’s possible he could still be alive!” Remus sat up so fast that he nearly headbutted Devan in the nose and stared at Virgil with wide eyes.

“Are you saying that my brother could still be alive!” he yelled, shaking Virgil by the shoulders. “I can see him again!!” Remus got up and started to dance madly around the fire with a bemused Devan and slightly shaken Virgil watching him.

When he came to sit back down, he ended up practically sitting in Devan’s lap, who hugged him close and buried his face into his hair. “I hate to say this,” he murmured, “but there is a chance that Roman didn’t survive.” Remus sat back up and looked Devan straight in his mismatched eyes (Remus did NOT notice the beautiful way they danced in the light of the fire, or how they were filled with such compassion).

“He has survived. I can feel it. Besides, I know my twin. He wouldn’t have died to something as minor as a zombie apocalypse.”

“Says the person who thought their brother had died just a minute ago,” Devan muttered jokingly under his breath, just loud enough for Virgil to hear.

“What?” Remus asked.

“Just saying that we should probably go to sleep now. I’ll keep watch.”

“But Dee, your bandages?”

“I’ll be fine. It might actually do some good getting some air on the wound.”

Remus knew he couldn’t argue with Devan for long, and besides he was feeling tired with relief now, so he curled up next to Devan and promptly fell asleep. Devan noticed that Virgil was watching them with a mix of happiness and longing.

“Come on Vee. Your safe with us,” Devan beckoned to the nervous boy, who crawled over hesitantly before settling into a gap between Devan and Remus that looked like it had been made just for him. Devan watched over them, knowing deep in his heart that no matter how annoying they were or how cold-hearted he acted, he would defend both of them with his life down to the very last second.

Taglist! (I just tagged everyone who reblogged my first chapter. Hope you don’t mind)

@pastelbootybomb

@firey-alex

@phoenixdoesstuff

@aimasup

@yesicanbelieveitsnotbutter

@dierotenixe

@astraheart04

@lovelilijazunde

@feralratt

@elementalshadowwitch

@sanderssidesocfanstuff

@oofmood

@holliberries

@authorized-trash

@decentsanders

@cass-withsass

@amintyworld

@sanderssidesweirdo

@its-logan-appreciation-day

Hope I got you all, and see you in the next chapter

#sandersides #remus sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic dark sides #sympathetic virgil #sympathetic remus #zombie warning #zombie apocalypse au #tag this as dukedon'tlook or twdeceit and I'll steal your knee caps #OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE ON MY TAGLIST #OR THAT I HAVE A TAG LIST FOR THAT MATTER #AAAHHHH #I know this is only the second chapter but seriously thank you guys #I totally 'don't' have any angst planned for upcoming chapters

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mochuelovelli · 4 years ago

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ASOUE AU? ASOUE AU. Pt 1 (Characters)

Okay so I just posted a little doodle I did for an A Series of Unfortunate Events AU that I had been thinking about ever since I realized that Esmé was obviously Magica's VA (which was 3 days ago so oop). I don't have all the characters figured out right now (mostly bc quite frankly there aren't really enough adults that act so... neglectful towards the kids in ducktales). I'll list the ones I am pretty concrete on VS the ones I'm unsure or ones that I "reimagined" due to not everyone fitting perfectly in this world.

Characters that are Definite:

Glomgold as Count Olaf: Think about it, horrible actor/cosplayer (yes thats what he is). Both obsessed about riches, revenge and are generally incompetent. Really, Olaf is much more wicked in the ASOUE series imo (bc even tho Glomgold wants to kill Scrooge and steal his money. This anger only extends his wards if he wishes to use them against Scrooge and is less keen on the murdering of kids. Notice I said LESS). Not 100% if I want him to be as...well explicit as Olaf can be at times. Especially his characterization in the Bad Beginning if you know what I mean (pst it's child marriage)

Magicia DeSpell as Esmé Squalor: Like I said, this is a no brainer. She has the stage performance of Magicia with a bit of Mark Beaks Mom (forget her name) mixed in. Probably would downplay her love for fashion and replace it with an obsession with the occult. I would also not have her be obsessed with Glomgold, its more in character for Glomgold to be obsessed with her anyhow. It is also possible bc I tend to believe she is a more compelling villian in canon that she might take the place of Glomgold on the Island in "The End". But I also plan for Scrooges Number One Dime to replace the Sugar bowl so, maybe not.

Doofus Drake as Calmanita Splats: Duh, spoiled brat who is very creepy and probably has parents that want them dead? Instead of wanting to sing all the time he mainly wants to wreak things/people. He still definitely dresses up tho into a hodgepodge of things. It always changes and Glomgold is always annoyed by this but he likes him more than Magicia. She definitely wants him dead just like Olaf in the series (she really hates kids).

Duckworth as Larry your waiter: Yeah not much competition for this role. It was either him or Launchpad. Duckworth is too perfect for this role and he honestly will play a better spy than canon Larry. If I ever write it out a lot of the "fight scenes" and anime-esque "explaining how I fooled you" dialogue will definitely be reworked but still present. I will however not keep out the main theme of neglect or ignorance with the adults, they will still fail in that regard as always but will just not literally stand there and tell Olaf "We finally caught you, now let me explain why we are so smart oh no you set something on fire again". I mean...maybe for a Mr. Poe but not the VFD. Or...SHUSH I should say but more on that later (or in another post who knows?)

Scrooge McDuck as Lemony Snicket (sorta): Okay so OBVIOUSLY we can't have our "Lemony" have the hots for the McDuck siblings mom (yes another thing I must explain oh boy). Scrooge will still be gilted in love by, of course Goldie though I am still not 100% if she should play part of the the role of Kit Snicket (again NOT related to Scrooge) or should she be someone else entirely. Scrooge is basically the reason everything is happening in this AU just like the canon Lemony but writes sad letters to Donald and Della as well as Goldie. As you might of well guessed, Scrooge's Fortune is also the riches the McDuck's have.

Fethry Duck as Dr. Monty: Of course a snake lover will become a marine lover in this AU! Also of COURSE Mitzy will play the roles of the incredibly deadly viper AND the great unknown! Fethry and Dr. Monty not being mentioned by their family but also too enthralled with their studies to care all that much (but seriously thats fucked up ducktales). Totally made for this role. As far as setting goes this will be where the siblings will be underwater first but since the series already has plently of aquatic locals I will probably swap out the Lake Lacamose story with Peru or the Galapagos. Speaking of...

Ms. Quackfaster as Aunt Josephine: For narrative purposes it would make sense that Ms. Quackfaster would lose her edge as a brave and bold woman. For what exact reason I am still trying to figure out. Not sure if I still want to keep the "Ike" storyline, maybe she just got really spooked by FOWL. Maybe some creature from the Galapagos ate her leg or something.

Ma Beagle as Dr. Orwell: This particular role was sort of hard for me to cast due to the fact that Dr. Orwell is older and romantically involved with Olaf (at least its sorta there). I really didn't want to give this role to Owlson bc other than she isn't a bad person, she is also way too young. Ma Beagle already has a similar motivation im canon to want to reclaim Duckburg as Beagleburg so the Terrible Mills plot to frame the B for causing a fire in order to have control over the mill is very in line with Ma. I originally wanted the Beagle Boys be working in the Mill but since I am changing the setting to Egypt, I decided to use the people stuck in the pyrimid (idk what they are actually called) and will either use Amulet, Launchpad or Dijin as Cookie

Characters that are Mixed with others:

Huey Duck as the Narrative Role of Violet B.: I mostly imagined(?) the kid characters in a approximation of set characters from the books/series. For this reason, Huey plays the ROLE of Violet Baudelaire so that he can take the "inventor" occupation. I went back and forth on finding who would have Violet's quirk of using an object to help her think. My mind originally went to Webby since she has a bow and I wanted Huey's obsession with the Incomplete History of Secret Organizations to take the place of his JWG. However I reworked it so that Huey's JWG would act as Violet's ribbon with him having to flip through his beat up (and slightly burnt) journal to find a quick solution or just to calm his nerves. Something that applies to all the triplets and twins is that their last names are changed to "McDuck" mostly bc it sounds better that they are later called the "McDuck Murders" instead of the "Duck Murders" as well as Scrooges edited role in the kids lives. He has a mix of Klaus' social awkwardness and habit of talking at length about his special interests to whoever will listen. Huey is also the one who gets hypnotized in the Miserable Mill ep.

Louie Duck as the Narrative Role of Sunny B.: Pretty sure I swapped Louie and Webby for this role in my first post but whatever. I wanted to confusingly change Klaus' role into a "Charmer" or "smooth talker" (obviously still a work in progress) since I felt that Huey in DuckTales canon was always well researched as well a good mechanic and having two characters who pretty much fit the same role was... redundant. I also wanted to really make Webby's Sunny much more inline with her notorious/abnormal fighting abilities. However, I realized that instead of changing Klaus' role I should just change Sunny's characterization since I would have to rework it anyways since she was a baby. I also got the idea from recently rewatching the series and saw Sunny basically trick her way out of being trapped with the Hook handed man (i.e. Fernald). I will instead make Louie's role as what he functionally is in DuckTales (the guy who can talk his way out of anything). He would probably also say his occupation is "Defense Attorney" or something along those lines. He is also the one who gets captured the most but not by much. However while he still has Sunny's sarcasm, he also has Klaus' inherit skeptism and distrust of adults.

Webby Vanderquack as the Narrative Role of Klaus B.: Like I said in Louie's segment, Webby is changed to Klaus or more accurately the "Researcher" of the group. She is often the one who stays up late, researching ways to get out of Glomgold's schemes. Unlike Klaus though, she has more of the optimism of Violet but might not put as much belief into all authority as Huey might. She still has role models that she looks up to but isn't against bending the rules. She also unfortunately takes Violet's role of becoming "Olaf's bride" in the Bad Beginning. In the story she has always lived with the McDucks but didn't take their name and still had Mrs. B (until she was around 10, she was 12ish when the fire happened). However, she is still in the McDuck Will and therefore Glomgold hatches a plan to use her to get the fortune. She also tricks him by signing her name "Vanderduck" or "McDuck" instead of Vanderquack to make the marriage null in void. She is also a mix of Sunny since she is generally the most physically capable out of the children.

Dewey Duck as the Narrative Role as Quigley Quagmire: Okay honestly after a rewatch, I don't exactly know what makes Duncan and Quigley that different from each other. I'm pretty sure Duncan is the Klaus of his siblings but whatever. Dewey mostly just 1/2 of the reveal that two people survived the fire during the Carnival segment (which is changed to an underground wrestling theme for reasons to be explained). I am fairly certain that during the last part of the Village of Fowl Devotees I want Dewey be the one left behind with Webby and Lena that way we can have more time spent with him and Weblena/ Magicia v Lena drama. Dewey's occupation would be "Comedian/Host/Actor" . He also is the one the adults ignore during the first half and will be the subject of Triplet/only child jokes that the Quagmires face.

Gosalyn Mallard as the Narrative Role of Duncan Quagmire: Okay so like, no she isn't related or adopted by the Quagmires

Lena Saberwing as the Narrative Role of Isadora Quagmire: c'mon both these kids like poetry. Literally I can think of no other DuckTales kid that likes that (other than Webby but that was more of her liking Lena's stuff). She will still have her background as Magica's niece and might take some of the role of Fernald where he gets redeemed by betraying Olaf/saving Sunny. I am unsure by what extent though as she isn't going to be a henchperson of Glomgold or Magica. It might be that she is uses morally questionable ways to get what she wants/needs. Maybe she is "good" but has to commit a terrible act similar to how the Baudelaires have to burn down the carnival.

Characters that I am uncertain about or straight up don't have someone in that role:

Violet Saberwing as the Narrative Role of Fiona Widdershins: Like Fiona, Violet was also originally distrusted by a part of the cast (in this AU, it probably be Webby and/or Louie as Huey catches feelings lol). She is also obsessed with the occult not fungus and has to save probably Louie from losing his soul or something (wip). Violet more than any of the main cast of kids will probably act more like her canon self since she is naturally straight forward and booksmart. She probably gets forced to stay with Glomgold until her and Lena can escape again. Also since I didn't want it to be another underwater local and wanted it to relate to DuckTales17 a bit more closely I thought it be better if they were in the sky. Maybe Violet got the Sun chaser or maybe even the Spear of Selene. Maybe instead of going to look for their dads (since they are dead oof) they come back at The End to tell the McDuck Siblings et all that they might of found something...or someone important.

Boyd as the Narrative Role of Friday: This is definitely more of a stretch as really he is only Friday because in role only because I want him at the Island at The End so that he can save the siblings from whatever organic incident happens since he is still an android. I previously thought he could also fit the role of Fernald since he could go through a redemption arc easier due to him sorta going through one in the show. Its not out of the realm of possibility that Glomgold could have reprogrammed him to obey him (he might still do something similar I haven't figured it out 100%).

Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera as the narrative role of Hector: He probably won't faint as much as Hector but he will have to be pushed by the kids to be confident in himself during the Vile Village (which will probably change to a Capital city since I plan to rework FOWL into this). Maybe its similar to a military academy which makes having a set of rules make sense. Its also possible that Fenton escapes with some of the kids in the Sunchaser by the end of this.

Steelbeak as the Narrative Role of Fernald Widdershins: I mainly chose him because Steelbeak and Hookhanded man both most clearly are shown to be sympathic antagonists. They are still functionally villians, much more so than any of the children like Boyd or Lena who, yeah, have done bad things but in one case wasn't given the freewill to decide for himself or was but when she decided to stand up for herself she was literally tortured and had her freedom taken away (more so than in the beginning since. Steelbeak would, like Fernald, be making a choice as an adult man to be apart of a mad man's troop and was harden enough to commit murder if it meant he could impress his boss. But because he is not related to (by blood or otherwise) any protagonist I struggle to know where to put him. I might still have him defect during the end of what would have been the Grim Grotto ep and comes back with the Saberwings at The End. Maybe he brings Gosalyn back after finding her at some point, maybe he dies somewhere towards The End. Not sure.

Gladstone/Ghost of Christmas Past/News Reporter Lady as the Narrative Role of Mr. Poe/Mr. Poes Wife: wow this one is really confusing. My reasoning behind these picks is because The News lady would be a great pick for Mr. Poe's wife or at least a substitute as she has similar motivations in DT17. The biggest set back for her tho is that she has no reason to be on the Baudelaire case (or McDuck case anyways). Ghost of Christmas past is a bit of a stretch since why the fuck would he be in charge of making sure the kids had guardians? I mainly want him just bc of his motivation (or lack thereof) to do his job and being incompetent at it. Gladstone while making some sense that he also would be uncaring about where the kids go is also a stretch given he is a relative and he while he might not care 100% about their whereabouts he wouldn't lose them like Mr. Poe would simply bc he is so damn Lucky. Its possible to work that against him, maybe in a scenerios like where he drops off the kids but gets whisked away because some rando gifts him a boat. Still unsure.

Mrs. Beakley as either the Narrative Role of Jaclyn S (Mr. Poes Secretary/VFD spy)., Olivia C. (Librarian): I want Mrs. B to have a role which fits her being experienced and competent but also met a tragic demise. I might mix the experience of JS with the fate of OC. Poor Webby.

Justice Strauss as ???: I'll be honest, I am stumped with this one. This is a very important role to fill and I can't quite find an adult character that fits the bill of Justice Strauss. Mrs. B is too smart, Launchpad studying law while ridiculous, is something inline with the show but he doesn't have a DT17 motivation similar enough to Strauss where he's desires can be exploited nor has he really want kids in the same sense as Strauss. Drake Mallard is close since he is an actor but having him work with law is a bit of a stretch, I also think that making him somewhat bumbling is an insult to his character but Strauss is tragic since she WANTS to very much be the Baudelaires guardian but fails so much. Maybe in a safer world she could have been, maybe if they were luckier. She loves them so much, but they run away where she can't find them to at least try to be there for them and is left heart broken by the end. Whoever becomes JS is in for a world of hurt and I'm sorry. Goofy could also be a replacement, maybe Max died for more angst 😬.

Goldie or Daisy as the narrative role of Kit Snicket: This kinda gets really fanfic-y as neither of these characters really fit nicely into this role. Goldie definitely has the skill of Kit and her disregard for the rules but the pregnancy thing is... something. Not entirely sure if I actually want her to be pregnant but I also want a Beatrice II type character (of course she would be named Della II) but again very fanfic-y. Daisy I am more comfortable being the one who gets pregnant, she might take Olivias role as the new VFD recruit instead of Kits more seasoned one. All I know is that if either or both outcomes exist they will die also a Dewey Deanumont(?) Character wouldn't be the father it would of course be Donald or Scrooge depending who gets pregnant.

Jacques Snicket as ???: Another mystery for me. Functionally? Maybe Manny could play this role or even Launchpad (he really is just my go to for any character idk about huh?) Whoever it is will die but wont have a romance with the Olivia character(s). Maybe its Goofy lmao.

This is quite long enough, let me know if y'all got any more ideas. I'll edit this when I can since I am tired of writing. Please comment or reblog for suggestions and the like thx u. And please...Look Away while you still can.

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retroateez · 4 years ago

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Prophecy - Chapter Four

okay i’m gonna leave it here for now and post the other four chapters i have in the drafts when i get home from work,,, hope u enjoy!! (pls let me know if u do)

Prophecy Masterlist

wc; 2532

He strolled through the woods calmly, as he did almost everyday. The route was so familiar to him that he could walk the grassy path with his eyes closed. Not that he would do that, of course. It would be foolish, leaving oneself so vulnerable in the open. The tide splashed angrily against the sand a handful of metres away. He sighed deeply; the recent storm had wrecked the forest surrounding his secluded home. He just hoped the natural resources he needed hadn't been destroyed by those dangerous winds. Above him, the usual canopy of green had almost all disappeared, torn away by the harsh hands of the rain. He wrinkled his nose at being so exposed to the sunlight.

Eventually he passed through the alley of trees and stepped out onto the grey beach. Despite the sun, the sand was not glittering as it usually would. The waters were murky, disgruntled from the rage of the storm. His walnut coloured eyes sparkled softly as he surveyed his surroundings. His hair, soft and daffodil hued sat both messily and neat in gentle curls. It parted in the middle, allowing his piercing eyes to glare at people he didn't like.

Which was almost everybody.

Living alone on the outskirts of the most powerful kingdom sounded better than it actually was. He preferred to be alone, that way he could do his work without being distracted. But being a mage was exhausting work, and having someone cook his dinner when he was exhausted would be quite nice. Nevertheless, the magician was disliked purely out of fear. He was powerful. All mages were.

Living inside the kingdom was too risky for both himself and the citizens of the kingdom, so the king gave him a sizable amount of land roughly a mile away from the kingdom walls. He couldn't complain really. The mage's land consisted of mainly woods, which backed out directly onto the coastline. Luckily for him it was dense in herbs and creatures he needed for his work, so it worked out well for him in the end.

That's exactly what he was doing this gloomy morning. The sun was there, but barely. Hidden behind the clouds, clearly the sun was in no mood today. The ocean wasn't particularly happy either, like it had been drinking ale for 3 days straight and was currently trying not to explode from the hangover.

The mage had no idea what that was like.

Squinting at the sand, he began his search. He hated this part of being a mage. Skills in magic often required a basic knowledge in alchemy, and collecting the ingredients was the bane of his existence. Unfortunately for him, the only local source of this particular substance could only be harvested from sand mandrakes. The most annoying little bastards he had ever had the displeasure of coming across. Typical mandrakes were easy enough to come across, as if you accidentally stepped on one during a stroll in the woods they would scream bloody murder and possibly attempt to poison you.

But these ones would bury themselves underneath the sand and wait to attack you on purpose. He hated them.

No, he loathed them.

However, he really did need that specific ingredient, so he took a deep breath, pushed his golden hair back and prepared himself.

Yet, what he discovered on the beach was not what he needed, nor what he had expected.

A body lay, face-down, flat out just beyond the reach of the tide. He could tell by the darkness of the clothing that the person was soaked to the bone. Whether or not they were alive was a different matter, though. He sighed and approached the body cautiously, in case it was some kind of dead-alive, drowned hybrid-thing that would try and bite him when he got a little too close.

"Hello?" he called out quietly. "Are you dead?"

No answer.

"Excuse me," he tried again. "are you sunbathing?"

He rolled the body over so they were laying on their back. The mage inspected the body with his eyes and internally groaned.

Great. A human. A woman too.

He had nothing against women, but it meant that he couldn't just leave her on the beach. It he had found a random man, he probably would have done exactly that. But he was a polite mage, he had manners.

He also didn't want to be charged with murder if the guard patrol found a dead woman close to the mage's home. Most authorities would use anything to throw a magic wielder in jail. The only reason he was able to walk free was that he helped the king at his request. The king had a fascination for magic. The mage felt rather uncomfortable knowing that was the only reason he was alive, but he supposed it was better than being dead.

With a groan, he scooped the woman up into his arms.

"Talk about dead weight, holy shit"

He huffed as he began his hike back to his shack. As he walked, he glanced down at the unconscious figure he was carrying.

Her hair was wild, as if she had been dragged through an entire thicket of bushes a minimum of one hundred times. Her skin was covered in dirt, dried sand and honestly only god knows what else. He could feel her breathing shallowly, so that was a relief. At least now he wouldn't be responsible for her death.

Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks and cursed.

"Fuck sake!" He shot an angry glare at the woman he was carrying. "I didn't get the fucking mandrakes!"

-----

A warm, soothing scent washes over you, and you crack your eyes open the tiniest bit. First, you notice the pounding inside your skull, reasonating like a drum in a huge, empty hall, the bass bouncing off every wall. It's a dull ache but it's there. Your sight is still blurred from sleep, but above you, you can make out something vaguely wooden. Most likely a roof.

A roof?

You're inside?

Forgetting all your pain, you bolt upright, panicked.

"Where am I?" you blurt aloud.

Surveying your surroundings, you realise you're most definitely inside somebodies house. Despite having never been here before, it has a very welcoming feel to it. A lit brick hearth was directly opposite you, exuding a comfortable warmth as the wood inside it crackled. The room you were in was fairly large, with a single window and arrays of plants adorning every surface and crawling up the walls. The room smelt earthy and fresh too, like the roots of the flowers and emerald leaves made up part of the structure of the house itself. You wouldn't be surprised if it did.

Slowly, you pull yourself up off the bed and pace over to the window. The round, oak table just below it is cluttered with petals, pencils and other various objects you couldn't even attempt to identify. Multiple pots line the windowsill, each one filled with flowers the shade of bumblebees. You run your fingers gently over the honey coloured petals, gasping quietly when they radiate a yellow shine onto your hand.

"Ficaria verna," a deep voice startles you from the threshold of the door. "pretty, aren't they?"

You nod silently in response, staring at him blankly.

"Celandine?" He tries again, approaching both you and the flowers carefully. Again, you have zero idea what he was talking about.

With a sharp sigh, he plucks one of the flowers from the cluster of plants and holds it gently underneath your chin. You couldn't see it, but you assume the skin grazing the little yellow bud was glowing gold.

"Buttercups," he murmurs. "if they shine under your chin, that means you like butter"

You nod meekly, deciding that pretending to know what this mysterious man is talking about is the best course of action. Instead, your confused brain has other plans.

"Who are you?" you burst out. "Why am I here?"

His hand falls from your face, discarding the buttercup onto the table and turning back to you with a sour scowl.

"Is that any way to address somebody who just saved your life?" He snaps at you.

"I-" He moves closer to you, forcing you to back up.

"Is that any way to address somebody who welcomed you into his house? Completely ruining his plans for the day?"

You stand frozen, back pressed against the tough wood of the wall. Why was he suddenly being cold towards you? Naturally you wouldn't expect a stranger to be warm and welcoming off the bat but inititally he had seemed quite friendly. Did you annoy him by not knowing about plants? You didn't want to be rude but the average human being didn't possess an extensive knowledge about multitudes of vegetation.

"Human being?" he mused playfully. Your eyebrows shoot up in shock.

Did you say that out loud?

He stares down at you for what seems like millenia, his sandy hair falling forward the slightest bit as he towers over you. His silence is daunting and honestly, you have no idea what to do except just stand there. After all, you're a guest in this unknown person's house. And he did save your life, so the least you could do was just be quiet.

He reclines abruptly and sticks his large, calloused hand out to shake your own. You reciprocate the greeting shyly, your much smaller hand completely engulfed in his. Much like how the ocean totally swallowed you up.

"I'm Yeosang," he smiles. "I found you knocked out on the beach this morning. Any idea how you got there?"

"The storm," you explain. "I got caught in the middle of it and it threw me about like a ragdoll"

Yeosang steps away from you, leaving his bedroom into the main room of his shack and prompting you to follow him with a nod of his head.

The central room to the house is breathtakingly beautiful. Circular in shape, a collosal maple trunk stands proudly in the center, supporting the rest of the building like a pillar. Surrounded by open space and natural light, you have a hard time believing that you hadn't stepped into another dimension. The body of the trunk run straight up through the middle of the room, leaving you wondering where both the base and peak of the maple actually were.

The sunlight filters through the windows and also beams down between the branches of viridescent leaves above you, making you feel like you were in a fairytale. You half expected a fawn to come barrelling through, tripping over his spindly little legs but still determined nonetheless.

Still stood in the threshold of the bedroom, you stand statue-like, gaping at the view.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Yeosang smirks, stirring a pot which sat above a crimson brick stove over to your right. "It requires a lot of maintanance but it's worth it."

"It's so beautiful... It doesn't look real!"

Yeosang ladles the liquid from the pot into some bowls, and walks to the opposite side of the giant maple trunk. He places your bowl on a small, rickety looking table then he sits down in an equally rickety looking chair on the other side.

You politely sit down and eye your meal. You don't want to be picky but... it doesn't look very appetising.

"What-what exactly is this?" You ask in the kindest way possible.

He raises an eyebrow at you from across the table, and you pray to the heavens you haven't royally pissed him off. In a panic, you attempt to change the subject.

"How do you keep everything from burning in here? It's literally all wood! And there's no way it can be so naturally beaut-"

"Magic." Yeosang cuts you off, his voice cold and hard. "I didn't have to bring you back here, you know. I could've left you on the beach to die. I know the mandrakes get hungry quickly this time of year"

You gulp, his gaze on you now dark and polar opposite to the welcoming demeanor he had before.

"But I helped you anyway," he continued. "Better I found you anyway than the Ateez guards, they probably would've killed you right there on the sand."

Is he really this mad over a bowl of (what looks like) soup?

"I'm sorry!" You argue back. You don't really care who this Yeosang thinks he is right now. You have no home, literally nothing to your name and he's being a dick for no reason? This isn't fair.

"I'm sorry for inconvieniencing you by washing up on that beach. Maybe you should've let me die! I don't know who you are or why you're getting angry with me so if you're quite finished, I'd like to leave!"

You glare at each other angrily over the table. The both of you stay silent for a few moments, until Yeosang suddenly starts spooning soup into his mouth. You look at him incredulously; what is with this guys mood?

Deciding to play along and also knowing that if you did leave, you'd have nowhere to go, you also begin sipping the bubbling soup. You discover it is actually very delicious, and now you feel like a fool for insulting both the food and the confusing blonde man who you technically were indebted to now.

"I don't expect anything in return for saving your life," he says matter-of-factly. "I can see that you possess nothing of value to me on your person. However I may be willing to help you out, on a few conditions"

He lays his spoon back in the bowl and folds his arms, leaning back into his chair and waiting for your reply.

"And what are these conditions?" You ask, continuing to eat.

"You help me out when I need it, and I'll let you stay with me. Because you evidently are not from around here, and frankly, going up to the Ateez territory looking like that wouldn't do you any favours"

Offended, you look down at your mud-caked clothes, stiff from being soaked and drying awkwardly on your body. You realise too your hair is a complete wreck, sticking up in so many directions a compass would have a hard time figuring it out. It's matted and clumped together and you already know it'll be painful to fix. So maybe Yeosang does have a point, albeit a rude one.

You ponder his invitation, glancing around his stunning, fairy-tale home. Really, you have no reason to decline; you have no home, no job, and it could be an opportunity for you to start fresh, forget about your past as a lonely thief on the streets.

"Okay," you nod, peering straight into Yeosang's icy blue eyes. "I do what you ask, you let me stay."

He nods back, satisfied.

You finish the remainder of your soup (pottage, he tells you) and you turn to him as he washes the bowls.

"What now?"

He turns to you with a grin, one you haven't seen from him yet and it fills you with dread immediately.

"Fancy a trip to the beach?"

He was definitely going to kill you.

Chapter Five

#ateez #ateez au #medieval!ateez #hongjoong #yeosang #yunho #seonghwa #wooyoung #san #jongho #mingi #im whipped for this yeosang help #i rlly love him

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theyrealllegends · 6 years ago

Text

Someone still loves you (Roger Taylor X femReader)

Synopsis: It’s 1984 and you’re John’s cousin as well as Roger’s best friend since basically forever. Not even his marriage or his kind of annoying wife can change that. However, things are getting messy between him and his wife, so of course you’re there to help him out and take care of his son Felix.

Words: almost accurately 6k

Author’s Note: I don’t precisely remember where this idea came from but I had to share it with you all and I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think!

Warning: Drinking and drug use, puking, language, angst, mentions of a divorce

xoxox

Someone Still Loves You

“What the actual FUCK?”, the woman cried out, making your ears ring painfully.

“God, shut up”, you muttered annoyed, feeling sicker the longer you looked at her.

“What’s wrong, love?”, Brian asked her, acting innocently.

“You’re high, that’s wrong. All of you are bloody stoned!”

“And what’s wrong with that?”, you mumbled into Roger’s chest and he chuckled before he sat up slowly, pushing you into a more upright position as well.

“I gotta get going, darling”, he slurred and you sighed.

“Why again?”

“Promised Cyn we’d have - uhm”, he interrupted himself, scratching his head. “Something, I guess. Can’t remember.” You snorted at his words before you steadied yourself on the couch you would now sit on alone. Roger sat straight, trying to fix his hair and shoved his sunglasses up his head to ran his hands over his eyes hardly, before he put them back on and got up very slowly. “Here we go, love”, he told his obnoxious wife who just glared at him, unable to understand that he wanted to hang out with you and the boys - his closest friends - who wanted to entertain themselves as well. And given that their band Queen was now pretty successful and they themselves as well as you considered them as rockstars there came a lifestyle of the cliché sex, drugs and rock ’n roll.

Of course somewhere along the journey, Roger had to knock up a woman. Maybe it had been more than one but since Cynthia could be as annoying as she wanted, she knew how to get the biggest advantage for herself out of everything, she forced Rog into marrying her “for the good of his first born son”, of course! At least that was the way you saw the story because you didn’t precisely want to believe Roger had real feelings for a woman you couldn’t stand for the live of you. You didn’t even remember precisely how you happened to become best friends with him, maybe it was when you were living together in college - you’d both been flat hunting and ended up with a third person that knew both of you but wasn’t too keen when you started to hang out without them - or when you introduced him, Brian and Freddie to your cousin John because you knew how badly they were looking for a bassist. No matter what it was, Roger and you shared a very special bound. It was like you knew what he was thinking without him saying it but a glance or a simple hand move was all you needed and the other way around, Roger understood you just as well. He was the one to keep you stable when you struggled with anything in your life, he’d been the one to encourage you to apply for the magazine you were working at now and he was the one that was always down for whatever crazy thing you came up with. For him, you were the one woman he wouldn’t want to lie to or cheat on because one, he didn’t want to hurt you and two, you were the only one that truly got him, he felt like and he loved you for it. You both loved each other without letting the other one know with words - you weren’t in love after all.

He got married fours years ago after he and the boys had gotten back from a still shocked Germany where they’d performed Fat Bottomed Girls with stripping girls on stage and finally had some months at home which were ruined when Cynthia had showed up eight months pregnant and convinced Roger to go through every test he needed to believe he was actually becoming a father. It had been a lot for him, he’d told you and you knew how worried he’d been, often enough helping him out of his panics. But now, seeing him with his son Felix, you knew it had been worth it and Roger was happy with almost everything - the only thing that upset him was the mother of his son. He wouldn’t really admit it and you guessed he felt bad or embarrassed or both but you could tell whether he said it or not. Mainly because he still left his home to get high with you and the boys - it had become way less often but still counted - and because you knew how his face looked when he was happy and it never looked like that when Cynthia was around. He didn’t look happy when he had to leave that day as well but you were a bit too dizzy to care, only really getting the situation hours later when you were home and had downed what felt like three litres of water. You were starting to worry if Roger was alright or if he and Cynthia had had one of their countless arguments about the most unnecessary shit ever and you couldn’t help but dial his number even though it was way past Felix’s bed-time. They’d probably turn off their phone if they were scared it’d wake him up.

“Hello?”, you heard Roger’s voice after a few too many of the noises that indicated you that your call was actually going through and he sounded out of breath to you.

“Hey, it’s me”, you whispered as if you didn’t want to answer him anymore right there. “Just wanted to hear if you were alright.”

“I am, love, everything’s alright”, Roger replied and you could tell that he was smiling into the receiver, making your heart ache for no real reason. “Thank you for calling, I was thinking about you but afraid you were already asleep.”

“You know you can always call, Rog. I was scared I’d wake up Felix as well."

“Moved the phone the furthest to his room, I don’t think it’ll so don’t ever hesitate, love.”

“Thanks, Rog”, you answered softly and he sighed deeply.

“Who’s that?”, you heard in the background of the call and of course it was Cynthia.

“Will I see you in the studio tomorrow?”, Roger asked directed to you, kind of ignoring her and you smiled silently.

“I can come around if you want me to.”

“Felix will keep you company, if that’s alright?”

“Sure”, you said, knowing that your talk would be over now.

“See you then, y/N.”

“Night, Rog.”

He often asked you to meet him in the studio, he always had but since Felix had gotten a bit older he sometimes took him as well and there had to be someone to look for him while Roger was busy recording. Tomorrow was Saturday and you didn’t have to go to work so it wasn’t a big deal for you, in fact you were happy to have a reason to see all the boys.

***

They were all sat on a couch, laughing with each other and Felix was silently looking at all the strange men in front of him. You chuckled when you walked in and his face lit up when he spied you.

“I think they’re weird as well”, you told him after greeting the boys and Felix started laughing, reaching for you. “Uff, someone grew!”, you continued to talk to him when you lifted him from Roger’s lap into you arms but Felix just smiled at you, playing with the strands of your hair softly.

“You should really take care this doesn’t grow into a weird thing”, you teased Roger who was running a hand through his shortish blonde hair as well, pulling on some strands when his heart felt like it was about to burst seeing you with Felix. He looked so much calmer and happier with you then with his real mother, not that Roger could ever get himself to admit that.

“I’ll try, love”, he said with a grin before he forced himself to get up and follow his bandmates. “You’re alright out here?”

“Perfectly fine”, you nodded with a smile.

“You’re good with auntie y/N?”, he asked his son in a softer voice and Felix smiled at you.

“Always fine with auntie y/N”, he answered in his soft voice and you felt your heart warm by the way he said your name just like Roger and by how much he sounded like his dad.

“Roger, move your a-“

“Fred!”, you heard Deaky interrupt Freddie’s interruption of the moment.

“Move your small bottom in here, would you?”, Freddie continued with a shit eating grin and Roger snorted before he had to force himself to leave you and Felix alone.

“How’s it going at home, sweetie?”, you asked the little boy after you had settled both of you on the couch the boys had occupied before.

“Dada’s not sleeping in momma’s bed”, he whispered to you like it was a secret.

“Why not?”, you answered just as silently.

“Don’t know, but he’s always in the living room when I can’t sleep.”

“And you sleep on the couch with him then?”

“Sometimes”, the child nodded softly. “But sometimes Dada’s asleep on the table and doesn’t wake up”, he told you looking concerned. “I think he’s having a lot of the drinks I can’t have.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”, you asked Felix softly, pulling him closer and stroking his hair to relieve the tension in his face.

“Don’t want to upset him”, he answered muffled by the skin of your neck Felix always loved to bury his head in.

“I understand”, you said softly, continuing to stroke his back, knowing it would be hard for him to stay awake that much longer when you did this around midday. But you had to force yourself not to think too much about what the little boy had said because you hadn’t known that before and were even more concerned now, actually having to urge yourself not to cry but to focus on the boy’s recording to distract you.

“How’ve we been?”, Roger asked Felix with a smile when they were done recording and he’d found the two of you looking at a picture book Roger had brought for him.

“Good”, Felix told him and Roger smiled, ruffling his hair and moving to pull him from your lap.

“Gotta get home soon, shall we?”

“Can’t we stay with my auntie?”, you heard him ask and got up quickly and put a hand on both his and Roger’s shoulder.

“You should go home with your Daddy, love, I’m sure Mommy prepared dinner for you”, you told the boy and Roger’s face fell.

“Actually I in fact know she didn’t”, he told you quickly and silently and you nodded.

“You wanna come over then? We could go to the store on the way and pick up everything we need for dinner.”

“That sound good to you, son?”, Roger asked Felix while you saw every pain in the world in his eyes.

“Yes, yes, yes!”, Felix said with the widest smile ever, happy he’d gotten his will.

“Fred, can you keep Felix company for a second?”, you called the black haired man over and Freddie smiled and swayed his hips.

“Who prefers uncle Freddie?”, he asked Felix with a grin. “Come ‘ere young man, they’re boring anyway!”

“Boring!”, Felix repeated laughing, sticking out his tongue to Roger who just snorted and handed him to Freddie without further arguing - it told you everything you needed to know.

“Is that really alright with you, don’t wanna -“

“Rog”, you interrupted him and softly put a hand to his biceps again. “Of course that’s fine. You and Felix are always welcome over. I can make pizza with him if you need some time to go home and talk to - her.” He rubbed his face harshly and when he looked back at you he looked broken.

“I’d rather not but I guess you’re right. It’d be great if we’d do it like you said.”

“Sure, Rog”, you said softly and he moved towards you for a quick hug.

“God, you’re the only girl that keeps me sane”, he mumbled into your hair and your grip on his neck tightened for a moment.

“I’ll always be there for you, Rog.”

“Thank you, babe.”

“I want auntie y/N!”, you heard Felix rage from the outside world that surprisingly still seemed to exist while you were in Roger’s warm arms. You broke away from him, feeling like you’ve been hit in the chest at the sudden loss of his body close to yours and his smell that could always right any wrong in the world for you. “She’s mine, she’s mine, not Dada’s!” You laughed because you couldn’t help it and otherwise you might’ve started crying there and then so you settled on picking Felix back up from Freddie who had trouble holding the child that had started kicking his legs around when you’d been too far away for his liking.

“‘m here, sweet boy, ‘m here”, you tried to calm him, swaying him around on your hips a little. “Everything’s alright”, you continued, trying to get yourself to believe your words as well.

Making pizza with a four year old boy was hard. Harder than making pizza on your own and with a huge glass of Chardonnay for sure. Roger was gone and you had to force yourself to keep smiling and keep Felix distracted so he wouldn’t suddenly ask for his dad. However, he returned when Felix and you were about to put the dough with everything you two had wanted on it in the oven and everything seemed alright until you saw Roger’s face. He looked bet up and angry and he didn’t even try to hide it from Felix when he put the liquor-shop bag on your table and went in to put a bottle of Scotch in your freezer.

“Sweetie, if I let you pick the music for tonight, can I talk to your dad for a second then?”, you asked the little boy and he looked at you for a moment, contemplating your offer.

“Okay”, he finally said and you literally let out a relieved breath. “Show me your vinyls.” At first you thought you’d instantly regret letting him close to your beloved collection but apparently Roger had already thought him to handle the material the way you had to.

“I’ll replace everything if he breaks something”, Roger was quick to assure you. “She completely freaked out”, he then continued without looking at you. “She told me I was stealing her son from her and I was a cheating bastard and that I shouldn’t even try to come home later and some other shit and she threw things at me and I left before she reached the kitchen knives. Like, sometimes I’m scared she’ll actually harm the little one if I leave them alone."

“She wouldn’t dare to, Rog. He’s the only thing that keeps you with her, I think she’s aware.”

“I can’t do much, y/N. She’s his mother and I want her to be part of his life, I guess. I hated growing up with just one parent.”

“I know, Rog.” His dad had been the talk of the town because he was a drunk and had slapped Roger’s mother to a point where she’d kicked him out of the house. He’d been to young to realise when it happened, but his mom had explained it to him later and he’d told you one night he’d felt horrible about everything. “I’m always here for the two of you.” He bit his lip and looked away and you could tell he was about to say or do something when Felix turned back to the two of you and help up Queen II.

“Someone got good taste”, you told him with a smile and picked him up so he could sit on your sideboard and watch you put the needle of the player on the vinyl. Eating the pizza with the boys was fun and your heart was painfully beating when you let your thoughts travel for a second and thought about the fact that you were nowhere close to having what Roger had - as bad as it could be, after all he had a family he could be proud of with a son that could bring peace to your mind with just a smile. Felix had his moments where he was a child other people could dream of, actually. Especially when you brought him up to the little bed Roger had bought for your place and that waited for him in your home office every time Felix needed it. Roger had brought him a PJ to change into and as soon as his head hit his pillow, the little boy was gone.

“Fell asleep in like two seconds”, you told Roger when you met him in your living room again and he was already three glasses into his whisky.

“Never does that when I try to put him to sleep” he mumbled into the glass on his lips. “Hell, y/N, I’m so angry.”

“I can tell”, you said honestly, sitting next to him. His body was tense, there was a deep line between his eyebrows and his free hand was either clenched into a fist or running through his hair, a sign that he was nervous or angry - or he was playing but you knew he wasn't, not with you, ever.

“You know how much I hate her calling me a cheater? So much I actually want to go to some fucking place and just shag someone. At least she’ll have a reason to yell at me then.”

“You don’t want to give her that reason or the pleasure to be right, trust me”, you mumbled as he downed his glass.

“You know I cheated before but I wouldn’t wanna do it on Cyn. For the sake of Felix, I’m trying my best to stay with this crazy bitch and the only thanks I get is getting yelled at.” You moved your head to his shoulder and leaned into him when he wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“Sorry about that, Rog”, you mumbled, softly putting a hand on his clothed chest, feeling his heart beat rapidly through his black button down.

Roger and you had slept in the same bed countless times before. Back when you’d lived together it had happened when you both had passed out drunk or high or if one of you was upset and the other one tried to comfort them - mostly that was you crying and Roger spooning you so you wouldn’t feel lonely while a guy had just broken up with you. After that, you’d sometimes shared a hotel room with him when you’d gone to meet him and the boys on tour for only a few nights and even after that you’d crash at his gigantic place when he’d invited you and the boys over for drinks or after one of Freddie’s parties. So it wasn’t a question that he could join you in your bed that night as well but first of all it was a torture to get him upstairs to your bedroom, out of his clothes and onto your bed and secondly, after everything you’d felt the past few days, it was weird to be that close to him again physically. It hadn’t happened in almost two years, you believed because he was really trying to be a good husband and father and slept in a bed with his wife most nights since Felix was born - excluding the nights he slept on the couch or the dining table in his own mansion. But smelling his familiar scent, a little less smoke and a bit more scotch in it this time since he’d stopped smoking when Cynthia was pregnant and moved in with him, and feeling the warmth of his body, his touch on the exact places he knew you were most comfortable with his hand there; you felt at ease. You leaned into his chest and Roger pulled you closer without noticing while he was already drifting off to sleep. You smiled to yourself and let go of the heartache at least for one night.

***

The next time you saw Roger was Tuesday when you came home from work and you found him sitting in front of the house you had your flat in and he was drinking from a half empty bottle of cheap Vodka.

“Roger, what the fuck?!”, you called out when you realised it was him. He looked worse than usual, his hair not sticking away from his head in the sexy way it usually did, his eyes were deeply hooded and his face looked paler than usual, a bit grey actually and he wasn’t dressed as properly as he had since he grew from all the fur coats he was sporting in the seventies. Actually you were sure he was still in his pyjamas, had just pulled a random pair of jeans on over the bottoms and didn’t have the time to care whether the colour of his jacket matched witch his pants or if his shoes were a pair.

“Y/N, this crazy bitch just took my son and left!”, he yelled back, grabbing his bottle and trying to get to his feet. “Can you believe that? She took Felix away from me!”

“Rog, shhh”, you whispered softly, trying to calm him down before your neighbours would complain. He was way too famous to be outside that drunk and shitty looking at this point. “Let me get you inside, we’ll talk there and I’m gonna call the boys and Miami for help.” He seemed to get that because he remained silent and tried his best to be a help while you struggled to get him up the few stairs to your building’s front door and then into the elevator. He only started rambling again when you finally managed to have him sit on your kitchen table and you called the boys and their lawyer quickly before you started to roam through your fridge for the greasiest food you had, hoping it’d soak up the most alcohol in the shortest time. Even though Roger’s system didn’t precisely need food, it needed a miracle. You knew him, he’d probably start throwing up in an hour.

“What precisely happened?”, you asked him softly when you started cutting some potatoes.

“She wasn’t home when we came on Sunday but that wasn’t a surprise, she did that to piss me off in the past”, he slurred, leaning his elbows on your table and rubbing his big hands over his face angrily. “And she only came home Monday night and acted like everything was perfectly fine, so I go to the studio today and I come home and she packed some of her and some of Felix’s things and took my Bentley and just left.”

“She took Felix and your Bentley?!”

“You’re basically me at this point”, Roger mumbled, finally smiling again.

The boys and Miami came when you’d put the potatoes in the oven and continued to fry bacon to aside them and they were just as shook as you’d been about that story.

“What are you gonna do now?”, Brian asked Roger who just snorted.

“All I wanna do is get fucking high.”

“Rog”, you said calmly from where you still stood on your stove. “If we wanted legal steps against her you’d have to be sober and presentable as fuck.”

“She’s right”, Jim said, nodding at you with a smile. “We’d have to be very careful and very aware of the huge impact it would have on publicity if you went through a big lawsuit right now.”

“Sorry, I don’t understand what you’re saying right now”, Roger said, at least you understood that he was trying to do so but Jim didn’t seem to be that familiar with Roger’s slurred words.

“He says he doesn’t understand you”, you went to translate and turned off the stove. “I need you to get him in the bathroom right now.”

“I’m alright!”

“That’s what you always say, babe, I know you’re not.” Brian nodded and got up but it took all three of them and some very unhappy looks of Jim to be able to move Roger to your bathroom and once he saw your toilet, it was over.

“Ehw”, John mumbled, turning to open a window for fresh air.

“It’s fine, Johnny, you can leave if you can’t handle that. I got him from here on.”

“I won’t leave him”, Freddie spoke, stroking Roger’s back softly. “He needs us.”

“Sorry I’ll have to wait outside. I’m getting drunk only from the smell.”

“That’s fine, Bri. Just take care of my potatoes, can you do that?”, you asked, trying to keep him and John, who looked way too pale to make it another minute, busy. They both nodded and Miami joined them, leaving Roger with you and Freddie, knowing that he was in the best possible company.

“Bloody hell”, Roger mumbled into your toilet when his breathing finally stabilised and he sat back on his ass, leaning onto the next wall for stability.

“Thank you two.”

“Always, Rog”, you told him, getting up to grab him a towel.

“I hate you, bitch”, you heard Freddie tell him and smiled to yourself when Roger said the words back to his friend. It was their very unique way to tell each other they loved them.

***

You spent the next few nights in the same bed as Roger, however the both of you slept over at Freddie’s on Wednesday and Thursday and at Roger’s house on Friday because he was hoping to find Cynthia and Felix at their home. You hadn’t planned to fall asleep on the couch but Roger’s arms were wrapped around you tightly and you had had a few too many glasses of white wine and he’d put on your favourite movie, you couldn’t really help it. Also, you grew way to addicted to being that close to him again; how were you supposed to go back to falling asleep on your own? Being close to you calmed him too, actually resting in his bed at night sleeping next to someone he cared for and he knew it was the other way around as well was incredibly good for him. It wasn’t completely like the lazy weekends you’d had back in your college days because there was still a leftover tension in Roger’s face and muscles when he thought about everything too hard but apart from that, both of you were as happy as you could be, making a few jokes here and there, talking for hours and watching TV if you weren’t. Roger even invited you to the studio at some point to show you a song he was working on that Felix had inspired him too and it required more synthesisers as Queen would ever again use in their whole lifetime combined, you were sure about that but you still loved it. Especially the way Roger’s eyes lit up when he sang the lyrics to you, playing a few tunes on his guitar then and there.

***

You saw Cynthia again when you least expected her. It was in your office on Monday morning. Your boss had called you into his room and you were shook for a second before you hurried your way over to his desk. Felix managed to get away from Cynthias hands and met you a few steps away from you, raising his arms desperately.

“God, it’s so good to see you, little one. Are you alright?”

“I’ve missed you, aunty”, he replied softly and you softly swayed him like you always did.

“I’m gonna bring him to my assistant so we can talk openly”, you suggested and you boss nodded, obviously fuming that you hadn’t mention the whole situation with one word. “FT, this is serious”, you whispered to the child when the office’s door fell close behind you. “I need you to call your dad with my phone and tell him to come pick you up at my office.”

“Okay, aunty”, he replied as silently as you were talking.

“Everything’s gonna be alright, okay? If he’s not at home try the studio, I’ll tell Melissa to give you the number.”

“Sure”, Felix nodded, just happy to see his dad again soon. Your assistant didn’t look that happy at the sight of having to babysit but you couldn’t care and took off again faster than anything could distract you or Felix. You prayed to every god you knew he’d do what you told him and Roger would actually be here rather sooner than later.

“So”, your boss said when you returned to his office. “What made you think we wouldn’t be interested in Roger Taylor’s marriage problems?”

“I always said I would separate my private friendship to Roger from my job here”, you answered firmly. “If I got divorced no-one in the world would care and it should be the same for Roger or anyone else, really, whatever Cynthia said, it’s his private business”, you continued and watched your boss’s face turn red and then very pale.

“Who are you and what have you done to my best working journalist? This is exactly what your job isn’t about, y/N!”

“I’m sorry you see it that way but I wouldn’t want to get involved in this."

“As if you weren’t already!”, Cynthia finally decided to talk to you, her high voice even higher today and your ears were ringing again. “You’re what made him so distant!”

“Distant? I’m keeping him distant while you’re the one leaving the city? With his SON without him knowing? You’re crazy, Roger was dying over what you did! You can’t hold me responsible for everything, sorry.”

“Don’t even try to tell me you weren’t happy I was gone! You’ve wanted him forever and I’m sure he was desperate enough now to find relieve with you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous”, you snorted. “He’d never cheat on you but you don’t deserve his efforts at all!”

“And how would you know?”, she was almost screaming at this point and you could tell your boss was growing uncomfortable with how the situation was turning out.

“Because he bloody told me! And even Felix noticed you two weren’t sleeping in the same bed, I’d fucking make sure my child wouldn’t have to worry about something like that!”, you defended yourself and Roger and you knew that Cynthia didn’t have more valid arguments but wasn’t willing to give up this fight. You were interrupted nevertheless though because in front of the glass door, people started freaking out and Cynthia’s face went white.

“You fucking called him?”

“I didn’t call anyone. I just told Felix where my phone is”, you replied with a smile, turning around to guide Roger to his son.

“Thank you so much”, he whispered when he hurriedly followed you down the long hallway and when Felix spied him he ran into his direction just like he’d done when you walked into the office earlier. He was crying and clinging onto Roger’s leather jacket, burying his face in his dad’s neck and Roger held him for what felt like seconds before you knew Cynthia would raise hell in the middle of your bloody office.

“Felix, come over here!” She wasn’t even trying to sound nice to the kid anymore and you snapped just as hard as Roger did, walking towards her so there was a chance he wouldn’t hear you.

“Don’t fucking talk to him like that, you bitch! Obviously, he doesn’t want to be with you!”

“He’s MY fucking son, get out of the way!” You didn’t move though and she made the mistake to push you out of her way to approach Roger who looked like he’d rather die than hand the child in his arms over to her ever again.

“I’d bet money on y/N beating you up right now, Cyn, I’d take care.”

“That whore got nothing on me”, she ranted and Roger’s eyes were sparkling when they met yours.

“You clearly don’t know she’s into boxing.”

“We’re in the middle of her fucking office!”, Cynthia said but you could tell she was getting scared.

“I’m getting fired anyway, thanks”, you told her between gritted teeth before you started pushing her backwards, unwilling to let her get to Felix and Roger. “You better move before I pull you out of her on those ugly extensions!”

“That’s my hair what are you talking about?!”

“You’re lying but if you weren’t that’d make it even worse.”

***

Of course your boss had to publish the story of the gigantic scene Cynthia had caused. And you’d tried to stop him but you’d been right as well, he did fire you. Roger had offered Miami’s help to get you back in but you denied, knowing that working there would’ve never been the same again. Also you wanted to be there for him and Felix because you knew that Roger would finally get the divorce he’d wished for the last few years. Cynthia had tried to be your friend the first six month or something and she’d been as good of a wife as she could be, attempting to make dinner for Roger and ordering take-out when she’d repeatedly failed. They were fucking pretty often, you could tell by how calm and content Roger became all of a sudden even though Felix didn’t let him sleep more than five hours a night. Roger even talked to you and the boys about it a few times but you hadn’t really been up to hear it to a point were Freddie had diagnosed you with jealousy. You’d been right in the end though, she’d turned out just as nasty as you’d expected and Roger had to admit that he’d only stuck with her for Felix. He was worried he wouldn’t get the right to have him live with him but Jim assured him that after what Cynthia did - and keeping in mind that the boy himself told the judge that all he wanted was to stay with his dad - chances weren’t too bad for him.

Felix was staying with Roger’s mother for a few days while the lawsuit went on and there basically were paparazzi everywhere. They wouldn’t even let you through to Roger’s house when you clearly had brought take out for him and you hated the thought of having pictures of you, angrily rolling your eyes, on every paper tomorrow. You eventually made it into his house and sighed in relieve before you got plates and the cutlery to have Chinese on the couch just like you and Roger had done in college.

“Thanks”, he mumbled with a weak smile. “Honestly, thank you, y/N.”

“It’s fine, Rog, you would’ve done the same for me.”

“Anytime”, he whispered, lacing his fingers through yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Rog”, you got out before your excitement could take your voice away or anything. Your heart was beating loudly, blood flowing through your veins quicker than usual and your breath caught in your chest when Roger leaned in to touch your face softly.

“Can I kiss you?”, he asked silently, his eyes wide and his lips parted slightly. He was looking like he saw you for the first time and his breath felt hot on your skin, leaving a light tickle.

“Do you think that’s a good idea right now?”

“Yes, if you want me to as well.”

“I’ve wanted you to forever”, you whispered, putting your fingers on top of his. “I just don’t know if it’s the right time given everything.” He was getting close and you were getting lost in his eyes, all you wanted was to feel Roger’s lips on yours.

“Can we make this about the two of us and not think about anything else?”, he whispered and you nodded, leaning in to close the distance between the two of you.

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #roger taylor fluff #roger taylor angst #roger taylor fanfic #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy angst #ben hardy fanfic #queen #queen fanfiction #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #borhap fanfic

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battlestar-royco · 5 years ago

Text

updated faq

Round 2! I tried to shorten the answers so as not to be repetitive, and I also added new FAQs for your convenience. My past self who wrote my first FAQ annoys me, and this one is more thorough anyway, so here you go. I still can’t believe you all actually interact with me enough that I have to make one of these.

Questions up here, answers under the cut.

anti sjm basics

1. why are you an anti?

2. why are you specifically anti SJM?

3. do you like anything about SJM’s books?

4. terminology and practices

5. why do you hold SJM to a higher standard than other authors?/why do you focus on criticizing this one woman more harshly than you do men?

6. did you see what xyz stan did?

7. are you an anti for non-SJM stuff?

best of (in my humble opinion)

diversity and sensitivity

8. I have a question about writing and/or how to portray xyz identity...

9. can you please tag...?

10. is it okay if I like [x author]/[y series] even if I know they’re problematic?

11. what are your suggestions for aspiring authors who want to write diversely?

personal

12. is it okay if I message you?

13. why don’t you post about books/shows/movies you actually like?

14. favorites?

15. book suggestions?

16. are you a writer/what are you writing/do you plan on publishing?

17. is it okay if I follow you on other social media?

18. fandom research

19. when did you start your blog?

20. how did you decide your url?

anti SJM basics

1. why are you an anti?

I love thinking critically about the media I consume. Though I wouldn’t say I’m particularly “anti” any text or author, some people classify any criticism as “anti.” To respect people in the main tags, I post in anti tags so they don’t have to see critical posts. Otherwise, I love talking about positive, neutral, and negative aspects of books.

2. why are you specifically anti SJM?

The Anti SJM Manifesto

What made you turn into an anti? x x

Rowan/Rowaelin: x x x

The fandom: x x x x x x

3. do you like anything about SJM’s books?

Yes. I like a lot of SJM’s ideas, but I don’t like how they’re executed at all. I highly enjoyed TAB, TOG-HOF, and the witch storyline of QOS. My favorite TOG characters are Manon, Chaol, Nehemia, and Sorscha. Honorable mention for Lysandra, Kaltain, and Asterin. My favorite ACOTAR characters are Nesta, Lucien, and Tarquin. Additional links: x x x x

If you want my positive thoughts on certain SJM characters, look up: “anti sjm: [character name]” and you’ll find them.

4. terminology and practices:

Anti SJM Glossary. Seeing as many of us have had bad experiences with stans and in one case, authors, we censor names so our posts stay in our own tags.

What is soap dick? From August 2018 x x.

Manongate? when KOA came out, Charlie Bowater’s promotional art (x) depicted Manon as Asian. Here’s more on why that’s a problematic and lazy decision on SJM and Bloomsbury’s part: x x.

5. why do you hold SJM to a higher standard than other authors?/why do you focus on criticizing this one woman more harshly than you do men?

SJM alone out of all the biggest YA authors has yet to make craft improvements or display a social awareness similar to what I’ve seen from her colleagues. I give all authors an equal chance, but SJM’s writing and behavior has significantly decreased in quality compared to other fantasy authors despite her books being lauded as complex and feminist works. However, I’m not perfect, so do feel welcome to send me an ask if you think I’m being unfair.

The anti SJM community is focused on women because we all mainly read women. Critiquing women doesn’t mean we are unaware, dismissive of, or silent about the issues in men’s work. The “anti” movements for the likes of GRRM do exist, but under a different name than “anti”–there are thousands of critical meta blogs, book/TV critics and reviewers, Youtubers, etc out there who discuss his flaws in depth. I also have lengthy anti GRRM, anti GOT, and anti ASOIAF tags. Finally, I personally find critiquing and discussing women’s work a lot more interesting, productive, and empowering than doing the same for men, especially because my blog’s focus is on the YA author/transformative fan community at large.

About Leigh Bardugo: x x x x x x x

About GRRM (and GOT): x x x x x x x

About Tolkien: I've only read The Hobbit and a third of Fellowship of the Ring, and I’ve only watched FotR, so I don’t say much about him at all.

6. did you see what xyz stan did?

Probably not, especially if what they did was off Tumblr. I don’t look at stan accounts unless someone informs me that my posts or I have come up in conversation on their blog. Any specific stan urls in asks will be redacted both for their privacy and my own well-being. Stans have doxxed, harassed, and discriminated against antis, including myself, so I’d rather save us all the trouble.

7. are you an anti for non-SJM stuff?

I most often talk about SJM’s books, but I’ve also been very critical of GOT/ASOIAF. Following GRRM, several other YA authors have appeared in positive, neutral, and critical lights. On the more critical side we have Cassandra Clare and JK Rowling, and a very little bit about Victoria Aveyard, John Green, Maggie Stiefvater, Stephenie Meyer, and Veronica Roth. Otherwise, I’ve talked about Susan Dennard, Rick Riordan, Leigh Bardugo, and Marie Rutkoski. Check out my YA critical tag for more. I’m also down to discuss franchises like Star Wars, Fantastic Beasts, MCU, etc, as well as TV shows. Basically anything big in genre fiction media, there’s a good chance I’ve read/watched it and I have opinions!

best of

anti SJM

Are the Illyrians MOC?

Moral Ambiguity Series

Anti Nessian

Lucien or Rhysand?

Chaol or Rowan?

misc.

why are period dramas like... that

White Feminism

a beginner’s guide to fandom racism

diversity and sensitivity

8. I have a question about writing and/or how to portray xyz identity...

First and foremost, check my “writing advice” and “writing advice: poc” tags to see if the question has already been answered.

I am black cis girl with a dual degree in women’s/gender studies and creative writing. I will best be able to answer questions regarding black characters, women, racial oppression and identity as a whole, and most questions about queer characters. There’s a chance I can provide a basic answer to questions about demographics outside of these, but I’ll most likely advise you to ask another blogger or seek out sensitivity readers.

9. can you please tag...?

Yes. Just send an ask and I’ll tag anything. I’ve turned off all Tumblr notifications for this account so I probably won’t see tag requests in comments unless you comment within a day or so of the post.

10. is it okay if I like [x author]/[y series] even if I know they’re problematic?

Absolutely. I’m not the liking-things police and I can’t control whether you like something or not. There’s no such thing as an unproblematic author or unproblematic series, so you just have to like what you like at your own discretion and with a critical eye. As long as you’re aware of the issues and not denying or ignoring them, maybe even seeking out other people whose opinions add to the conversation, you’re good. It’s exhausting to be 100% critical but harmful to be 100% uncritical, so you have to seek out critics you like and figure out how to maintain a dialogue with the text and/or the author. The balance is different for everyone but once you find it, it gets easier to keep up!

11. what are your suggestions for aspiring authors who want to write diversely?

Concepts to be aware of and tropes to avoid: male gaze, the Bechdel test, the Mako Mori test, the sexy lamp test, fridging, Orientalism, xenoface (called “the Gamora Phenomenon” on my blog), black best friend, Spicy Latina, Dragon Lady, bury your gays, disability narratives, queerbaiting.

What not to do when creating a culture.

My advice about writing POC.

Check out these blogs if you like: x x x.

Follow as diversely as possible. Follow multiple blogs, especially writing- or fandom-themed blogs, run by POC (especially women and LGBTQ+), bloggers from religiously marginalized groups, bloggers with disabilities, older bloggers, younger bloggers, international bloggers, plus size bloggers, etc. Everyone has different perspectives and opinions, so it’s best to read from multiple sources.

Magnify marginalized voices in conversations about diversity, and LISTEN to what they are telling you.

Read diversely! Read genre fiction written by marginalized people. Maybe even read some gender, queer, race, or disability theory if you like. I’m personally a fan of Audre Lorde, Anne McClintock, and Sara Ahmed, but I like a lot more.

Seek out multiple sensitivity readers for the specific identity you are trying to represent (ie if you are trying to write a Muslim woman, ask a Muslim woman to sensitivity read for you. Experiences are not interchangeable so don’t treat them as such).

Don’t let the research stop here. This is just the beginning. There are plenty of awesome and accessible resources out there if you want to know more. I started learning about this stuff on sites like Tumblr, Goodreads, and Youtube. The Goodreads review sections, especially for YA books, are so entertaining and full of commentators coming at texts with feminist, queer, and POC lenses if you look in the right spots. There are also podcasts and Youtube videos about feminism, history of queerbaiting, and such. Happy reading/listening/writing!

personal

12. is it okay if I message you?

If we’ve been mutuals and/or we’ve interacted for a while (at least a few weeks or so), absolutely. When it comes to questions about writing or diversity advice in WIPs, I prefer asks (off or on anon is fine; if you’d like to be off anon but answered privately, you can indicate that in the ask). That way, other people with similar questions can join the discussion and I’m less likely to repeat myself. That said, I’m not opposed to messages; I just get shy around people I don’t know :). Regardless of ask or message, please try to ask the full question as clearly as possible so I can answer it to my best ability. Generally, you can expect an answer to your message or ask within a few days to a week of sending.

If you’re looking for a fight and/or if you start using condescending, rude, or discriminatory language, you will be ignored.

13. why don’t you post about books/shows/movies you actually like?

I do! :)

14. favorites?

books: Harry Potter; The Hunger Games; Six of Crows; Percy Jackson; The Winner’s Trilogy; Angelfall; The Secret History; Othello; Jane Eyre; The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe/The Magician’s Nephew; A Storm of Swords.

movies: Alien, Blade Runner 2049, Harry Potter, Wonder Woman, Black Panther, Annihilation, Mad Max: Fury Road, The Terminator 2, The Breakfast Club, The Lion King, Moonlight dir. Barry Jenkins, Sleeping Beauty, Mulan, Tangled.

tv series: Sense8, Battlestar Galactica (2004-2008), Black Mirror, The X Files, The 100, Westworld (season 1 only), Watchmen, Homeland (seasons 1-4 only), Orphan Black, Breaking Bad, The Office, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, New Girl, Fleabag.

15. book suggestions?

Book recs!

Maxine, did you read/watch...?

16. are you a writer/what are you writing/do you plan on publishing?

I hope to publish, yes! I write mostly YA fantasy, but I also love sci fi, crime drama, and certain elements of horror so I have works in or influenced by all of those genres. I want to get my foot in the YA fantasy door first and foremost :). Check out “polysorscha writes things” if you want to know more specifics.

17. is it okay if I follow you on other social media?

As of now I keep my blog disconnected from my personal life, so I don’t share my other socials but feel free to follow me over on my main blog @ripley-stark if you like! It’s just pretty gifs and photos of my favorite movies and shows, social justice, meta reblogs here and there, and rambling in the tags. Don’t feel like you have to follow if you don’t want to; I say a lot more on here.

That being said, I have given my Goodreads to a handful of people who ask, so if you want to track what I’m reading, private message me and I’ll send you the link. In the case that I share the link with you, please respect my privacy and do not repost or share the link anywhere else unless you see me share it on my blog publicly.

18. fandom research:

In March to May 2019, I conducted a survey on my blog in an attempt to gather information about fandom through a social justice–specifically, intersectional feminist–lens. Here are the results and my analysis of the survey x. The purpose for this data collection was to write my final undergraduate research paper in one of my two majors, women’s and gender studies (the other is creative writing!), which focused on diversity and inclusion in genre fiction media and fandom. The final paper is about 11k words. I haven’t publicly published it, but message me if you’re interested in reading it! I also plan on doing more similar surveys to gather information about what audiences want to see in future media, so if anyone is interested, please send messages, asks, comments etc about what YOU want to see and/or ideas about how we can spread the info to creators. This is much bigger than just me and I can’t do it without your help. I love hearing from diverse voices and amplifying them as much as I can. Everyone’s perspective is meaningful!

19. when did you start your blog?

No earlier than the end of April or beginning of May 2018.

20. how did you decide your url?

I wish the Celaena/Dorian/Chaol love triangle resolved in a polyamorous relationship, and that Nehemia and Sorscha were thriving. Seeing as I am black, Sorscha is one of two characters in T0G who represents me. Thus, polyamorous + Sorscha. :)

#faq

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laylaevs · 5 years ago

Text

» • * — ( liz gillies , cis female , she/her ) . i think i hear girl almighty by one direction coming from APARTMENT 618 . doesn’t LAYLA EVANS live there ?? i heard they are a twenty-three year old waitress from malibu, ca , but they’ve been living in the apartments for ONE YEAR . they come across a bit - reckless and - obstinate , but they also seem like they could be + valiant and + adventurous . whenever i see them , i think of waves crashing against sand, used journals, wanting to hear “i’m proud” .

tw: mentions of child neglect and death.

i. about

born from meredith and roberts evans, she grew up happy and joyful at first. she took up ballet and was excited to see her parents in the audience during each performance. however, the happiness didn’t last long because at the age of ten, her dad passed away. it broke her heart for a long time and it broke her mom’s heart longer. every time her mom looked at layla, all she could think about was her husband, so she stayed in her room a lot or ignored the young girl. layla mainly took care of herself. she did her own laundry, cleaned the house, eventually learned how to cook, etc. the brunette went to a quiet home after school every weekday and the more months have passed, the more she became sad she had an estranged relationship with her mom and felt all she could count on were friends and a childhood friend’s family. when she turned fourteen, she got her own job and saved money to earn enough for several months of future rent since she already considered moving out when she turned eighteen.

nonetheless, she went to the group of friends who would cause trouble, partied a lot, and wasn’t serious about school. it stayed this way during her middle school and high school years, but as she was close to being expelled, she turned her life around gradually. her dream job became to be a best-selling author, so she wanted to continue with going to school. she cleaned up her act, went to tutors and study groups, and chose to take school seriously. she still continued to party, but just not as much. as years passed, her hard work paid off and she was eventually accepted into a university.

however, after graduating, she isn’t entirely proud of where she’s ended up. she’s currently been a waitress for about a year now and still hasn’t received any publishing contracts. layla did start working on freelance work, but still has the desire to have her work published.

ii. stats

name: layla madison evans

birthday: april 2

sexuality: bisexual

occupation: waitress, freelance worker

hometown: malibu, ca

iii. details

aesthetics

a journal full of words, matching lace bras & thongs, waves crashing against the shore, piggyback rides, the comfort of someone being there, hearing 'i'm proud of you', hands gripping bed sheets, police sirens, worn out ballet shoes

she has this tattoo on the back of her left arm and this tattoo in the same area as pictured

basically her fashion consists of all kinds of shorts (mainly booty shorts and ripped ones), crop tops, oversized hoodies and shirts, spandex shorts, tops that show off cleavage, fishnets, and occasionally skirts + denim, ripped jeans. she has a few very nice dresses too

more labels that can define her: the dirtbag, the halcyon, the promiscuous

one of her most prized possessions is a necklace her dad gave her

she’s determined to be an author someday, but pretends everything is alright right now and that she’s not upset about not being able to get a contract by now

other hobbies of her’s include: surfing, going to the beach, writing, reading, drinking, partying, dancing, going on road trips, boxing, baking, cuddling, destroying property, stealing, breaking the law in general

iv. wanted connections

enemies w. benefits. they always tend to get into arguments or annoy each other on purpose, but end up sleeping together often. even when they keep telling each other it’s the last time. (inspo)

OR enemies w. one night stand/could turn to benefits. they hate each other, but ended up sleeping together (could have been drunk or not) and now one of them, or both, regret it or pretend to regret it? (inspo)

toxic relationship. where they know they’re toxic for each other, but can’t seem to fully separate from one another. maybe they also make each other jealous bc they know their partner would be jealous?? (inspo)

secret relationship. maybe their parents or friends don’t approve, maybe one of them prefers to keep it hidden. more details could be discussed (inspo)

exes on bad terms. where they were good at first, but one of them closed themselves off and now either one wants to try and make things right (inspo)

crush. could have a crush on someone, but it may not seem that way since she’s probably so rude to them?? (inspo) OR��she could be someone’s wing woman because maybe they like someone else and she wants them to be happy, so she promises to help them, but it also hurts her on the inside?? (inspo)

general plots

a poly ship

squads

enemies

childhood friends

childhood enemies

best friends

ex-best friends

friends w. benefits

enemies w. benefits

exes (could be on good or bad terms)

unrequited crush

on and off again

a love triangle

#ten23:intro

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misscrawfords · 6 years ago

Note

Rose! How do you feel about Emma and its various adaptations?

Sorry for the delay in answering - blame the school trip!

I love Emma. I wrote my dissertation partly on it (also on Northanger Abbey, Rob Roy and St Ronan’s Well) and while I loved it before I loved it even more after studying it. All of Austen’s novels are extremely well plotted, but Emma might just be the best. It’s like a detective novel in that respect (and has been described as such on multiple occasions) because you can pick up on clues to what’s really going on all the way through but on a first read, you don’t see them. Miss Bates unintentionally reveals details that can be explained by Frank and Jane’s secret relationship but they are hidden in her verbal overloading. Emma’s own thoughts betray her unknown interest in Mr. Knightley, and his actions point to his love for Emma. And so on.

Jane Austen is also being radical in her use of literary conventions and genre in Emma (as she is in basically all her novels). She has the tightest mystery plot ever written at this point hidden directly inside a novel that sticks strictly to the conventions of romantic comedy. She even goes overboard with it - successfully navigating three couples to appropriate happy endings. However, within that solid structure, she plays with expectations and conventions in a subtle way and this is where I get really excited.

First we have Emma herself, a heroine “nobody but myself will like”. Austen clearly loved questioning and pushing conventions of who was allowed to be a heroine. Her previous novel, Mansfield Park, gave us Fanny who most people at the time found disappointing after Elizabeth Bennet and modern readers (unjustly IMO) hate, and she followed Emma with Anne Elliot who was far too old to be a romantic heroine according to contemporary standards. In the middle we have Emma Woodhouse, a meddling snob. She’s got a lot in common with Mr. Darcy actually and her character development in terms of recognising the bad behaviour she is guilty of and the prejudice she feels towards those of a lower social status is pretty similar. But while Darcy and his character development is held up as beautiful and heroic and romantic, Emma is frequently condemned as dislikable. I do wonder why that could be… Personally, I love Emma. She’s clever and shrewd and funny and, honestly, is there anyone who doesn’t think Miss Bates is annoying and doesn’t want to throw a tantrum at the prospect of being upstaged by Mrs. Elton? Are you, dear reader, such a paragon of rational enlightenment and charitable feeling? Would you instantly see through Frank Churchill and resist his flirtations? Would you be best friends with Jane Fairfax and not be just a little bit jealous of her and how much Mr. Knightley everyone seems to admire her? Have you never said something cutting and regretted it? Are you perfect, reader, ARE YOU? Come on. Emma is one of us. She messes up, she judges badly, she says cringeworthy stuff in inappropriate situations, she gives bad advice - she’s human. And she deals with it without losing her positive outlook and she does grow, enough to “deserve” her happy ending (though that’s a loaded concept) but not so much it’s unrealistic. And what makes her likeable through it all are that her intentions are good. Emma is not a bad person who has to become good and “be redeemed”. She is a fundamentally warm and caring person who needs to have some bad habits of thought and action corrected by guidance and experience. Emma’s intentions and understanding are good from the beginning.

Emma’s also interesting because, yes, she does change, but if you put her in the context of the genre she inhabits, she also gets to keep a lot. Basically, in another novel, Emma would have to pay significant penance for her bad behaviour before she would be allowed to marry Mr. Knightley and she would have to prove that she is a changed woman and is absolutely not going to continue meddling and will be a good and submissive wife. Usually this also involves giving up the dangerous reading of novels which have led her astray. Several points. Firstly, Emma is not a novel reader, she is a novel writer. Emma is described by various critics as “an avatar of Austen the author” and if you read the novel through the prism of Emma being an author, things become really fascinating. Beautiful, illegitimate Harriet Smith is the heroine of Emma’s novel and obviously Emma-as-author wants to discover that she is really the long lost daughter of Somebody and give her a socially advantageous marriage. Emma’s matchmaking attempts are the workings of a novelist plotting with characters. Emma is creating her own world. This is radical stuff, in a society where female novelists were looked down upon. Emma has the means and independence and cleverness to write a story of her own - and she is comically bad at it. This is one way in which Austen plays with genre. Secondly, it is not at all clear that Emma does give up her matchmaking at the end of the novel. Austen is coy when she floats this suggestion about Mrs. Weston’s daughter: “[Emma] would not acknowledge that it was with any view of making a match for her, hereafter, with either of Isabella’s sons”. Does this suggest that maybe Emma isn’t as cured as she should be? Thanks to Austen’s levels of irony it’s impossible to tell, which is the point. Thirdly, Emma is the only Austen heroine to have real financial and social clout. Emma really does rule Highbury and at the end of the novel, instead of being subsumed into her husband’s world, he in fact moves in with her (however temporarily). This is practically the Regency equivalent of her keeping her name after marriage. She and Mr. Knightley are social equals and she does not leave her home or her sphere of influence when she marries. The only other heroine this would be true of is, interestingly enough, Fanny Price. But Mansfield Park is notoriously inward looking and Fanny’s ending allows her to truly become a Bertram which is what she wanted all along for better or worse. And Fanny and Edmund’s social status and influence are much less significant that Knightley and Emma’s are.

Something else to bear in mind when thinking about Emma’s character is that, despite her social power and wealth, she also lives an extremely confined and limited life. She is essentially a carer for her stultifying and claustrophobic father. She has never left the environs of Highbury. She is surrounded by people who jump to her every command and shower her in praise, both deserved and undeserved. The only person who criticises her is also in love with her. The only eligible men in her world before the arrival of Frank Churchill are her brother-in-law who is 16 years older than her, and the obsequious vicar. Yes, she can remain a spinster but even a rich spinster cannot maintain the sort of power she currently holds when faced with a married woman like Mrs. Elton (who is a real threat to her), but her alternatives are bleak. A woman of her rank and fortune should be having a London season and meeting other young people of her rank and forming external connections. Because of her father’s passive control over her, Emma has none of these opportunities. Even Fanny Price travels more and meets more people than Emma does. Yes, Emma Woodhouse is handsome, rich and clever and has had very little to vex her, but I suspect that is probably Emma’s own view of her life and it is not necessarily accurate.

Okay, this post is already far too long so I’ll end my discussion of the novel here. There’s also a lot that could be said about Jane and Frank, Emma and Mr. Knightley’s relationship and more, but Emma is clearly the most important and, honestly, the most in need of defence!

Onto the adaptations, and I’ll try to be brief:

1. The Gwyneth Paltrow film. Jeremy Northan is divine though his hair could be better and he’s not my favourite Mr. Knightley, even if I do have a massive crush on JN. Harriet Smith is a not particularly attractive redhead which is… weird. Frank Churchill is Ewan McGregor but he has appalling hair so IDK what was going on there - such a missed opportunity. Gwyneth Paltrow as Emma is a casting disgrace and I honestly can’t bear to watch this film because every time she is on screen I cringe. The producers were more interested in the aesthetic than making a good adaptation. My grandma hated it. Enough said.

2. The Kate Beckinsale film. Honestly, I don’t dislike anything about this except that I wish it were a mini-series and the proposal scene is a bit… eh. But I think it manages to stay true to the book in a feature film and I love Kate Beckinsale’s Emma. She has the right mix of liveliness and arrogance for me. Mark Strong is a stern Mr. Knightley but he’s not too handsome. Frank Churchill is perfect in this adaptation. Controversially, this is my favourite period adaptation.

3. The Romola Garai miniseries. I love lots about this mainly because the length allows everything to be expanded suitably. Johnny Lee Miller is the best Knightley by far. The Eltons are fabulous. Frank and Jane’s relationship gets more time dedicated to it. The Westons and Bateses are great. Harriet Smith is dumbed down too much - she’s naive and not too bright but this adaptation makes her practically an idiot, almost as much a disservice as the 2005 P&P film’s character assassination of Bingley, though physically the actress is perfect and she’s very likeable. And I really do appreciate what they were trying to do with Emma. It was clearly an informed choice to make her bubbly and often silly and a chosen interpretation of the text and I respect that - better that than wilful misinterpretation which some adaptations go in for. I fundamentally disagree with it - whatever her faults, I don’t think Emma is silly and giggly and I struggle to believe this Emma is a 21 year old woman secure in her position as a social leader. Her mannerisms often come across very modern - her little waves, giggles and posture and this is very irritating because Romola Garai has done some fantastic period acting (Daniel Deronda, The Hour etc.) and these mannerisms aren’t consistent across the cast. I love Romola Garai and I think it’s an interesting choice of direction, but not one that rings true to how I see the character though.

4. Clueless. Clearly the best adaptation of Emma ever made. We all know it.

5. Emma Approved. Only seen a bit of it and didn’t warm to it. Should probably give it another go. Why did they change Knightley’s name to Alex? What the hell is wrong with George!?!?

Anyway, here are my thoughts on Emma. Hope they’re at least somewhat interesting. There is nothing I like better than rambling on about Jane Austen! :-) Thank you for giving me the opportunity!

#Emma #Jane Austen #Emma Woodhouse #literature #books

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lopithecusfanfiction · 5 years ago

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Take it All Away: Chapter One

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden Rating: Mature Word Count: 4548 Alternate: AO3 Summary: When Robert goes out to a club, he doesn’t expect what happens. He should have been more careful, should have paid more attention. Now his life is flipped upside down all because of one stupid mistake. Warnings:

Rape/Non-Con

Non-Consensual Drug Use

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD

Blackouts

Memory Loss

Implied/Referenced Self-Harm

Self-Harm

Panic Attacks

Other Additional Tags to Be Added (I will update this post when more are added)

Author’s Note: This is a “what happens if Robert is the one to get assaulted instead of Victoria” fic. I wrote this mainly because I wanted more hurt Robert (because I’m cruel and I like to see characters I love suffer.) I wasn’t planning on posting this until I was done with it but I wanted to post it before Ryan leaves the show and that is, unfortunately, coming up fast. I do have Chapter 2 and 3 done but that’s it. Updates will most likely be slow but I never abandon a story, so I’ve got that going for you. Also, my brother’s name is Aron so I’m not used to writing the name with two A’s (I actually often times forget that most people do spell it with two) so if you see at any time during the story I’ve spelt the name with one A, just let me know so I can fix it. This is my first fic in the Emmerdale fandom. I also live in America so I might get the slang they use on the show/things that are called differently here than in the UK, wrong. Hopefully I’ve obsessively watched the storyline enough times to pick up a few things, lol! I’m also not going to be able to remember to change the spelling of words that are spelt differently here than in the UK nor would I know all the words that are spelt differently (i.e. z vs s) so I’m probably going to just use the American spelling. I’m sorry if this bothers you. This is set around the time Robert, Aaron, Ellis, and Victoria go to that club except it doesn’t play out in this like it did on the show. Please enjoy!

Robert saunters down the stairs, fixing his tie around his neck. He can smell the toast Aaron has made and it makes his mouth water, stomach growling with hunger. Once at the bottom, he approaches Aaron and Liv, where they are sat at the kitchen table, eating cereal for breakfast.

“Good morning,” he says, leaning down to kiss the top of Aaron’s head. He sits down and takes a piece of toast, taking a big bite out of it.

“Mornin’,” Aaron replies, mouth full of food. Liv gives him a smile but says nothing.

“I have a bunch of meetings today and then I have that late dinner celebration I told you about with a few of the new investors,” Robert comments.

Aaron nods. “Yeah, I remember.”

“So you’ll be home extra late then?” Liv asks, getting up from the table and grabbing her school bag.

“Probably,” Robert answers.

“Well maybe, Aaron, you could have tea with Chas then.” Liv shrugs on her bag. “Then I can have Gabby over without my annoying older brother hovering over us the whole time.”

“Aren’t you going to be late for college?” Aaron quips, giving Liv a playful look.

Liv laughs. “I’m just saying.”

Robert watches the scene play out in front of him, his own smile of amusement on his face. He’s always loved seeing the playful banter between Aaron and his sister. It often reminds him of how he and Victoria are sometimes. There’s just something gratifying about picking on your younger sibling.

Liv says her goodbyes and leaves The Mill. Aaron watches after her, a wistful smile playing at his lips. “What?” Robert asks him.

Aaron takes a deep breath and finally goes back to eating his cereal. “I’m just glad to see she seems to be moving on from that whole Jacob stuff.” He slurps his cereal as he drinks the milk from the bowl.

Robert makes a face at the sound. “She’s a strong kid. She can get through almost anything.”

“Well, she does have the perfect role models when it comes to getting through tough times,” Aaron says with a small, playful smile.

Robert chuckles. “If you say so.” He stands then, leaning over to give Aaron another kiss on the top of his head, grabbing a couple pieces of toast on his way. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

*~~~*

Robert sits in a booth in the back of the Woolpack. He isn’t really looking forward to this dinner. He would rather be at home, curled up on the sofa with Aaron while they watch some corny film Liv picked out. He really hopes this doesn’t take long and comes up with a plan on how to make this whole thing go by as fast as possible while he waits. All he really has to do is eat a small meal while he schmoozes the guests of honor and buy them a few drinks. It should be easy.

That’s why Robert isn’t sure what to think when the children of the investors arrive instead of the men themselves. Two men and a woman who are probably about nine years younger than he is, approach him with wide smiles. He looks back at them in confusion, eyebrows knitting together. One of the men holds out his hand for a shake and Robert takes it. “Nice to meet you Mister Sugden-Dingle. I’m Lucas.”

The other man shakes Robert’s hand next. “Name’s Trevor.”

“And I’m Meghan,” the woman says, not offering her hand.

“Please, call me Robert.” Robert looks from one to the other. “Sorry, but I thought I was meeting-”

Lucas cuts him off. “Our fathers?” He chuckles. “Yeah, they thought we would have more fun instead.”

“But they’re the ones who made the deal,” Robert comments, incredulous. He’s starting to feel a little frustrated now. He didn’t come out tonight to entertain a bunch of young adults and if he’s being quite honest, it’s really unprofessional of the investors to send these three in place of them. “Sorry but,” Robert stands, “they really should have come out themselves.” He scoots out of the booth, grabbing his jacket. “It was nice meeting you but I think I’ll be off.”

“Woah, hold it.” Lucas steps in front of him. “We were promised a good time tonight; food, drink, the lot.” He smirks. “You wouldn’t want us to tell our dads that you skimped out on us, would ya?”

Robert isn’t sure what to say. He can’t lose these business deals, not if he wants the money from them. He and Aaron are trying to have a baby and they can’t do that if the new haulage company doesn’t work out. They’re desperate to make money, even if it means Robert has to entertain a bunch of children.

He sighs. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Lucas’ smile grows bigger. “Good! C’mon, let’s go.”

Robert stops them. “I thought we were only going to have a few drinks and some food?”

Trevor scoffs and looks around the Woolpack. “Not here.”

At that, the three of them turn and begin leaving the pub. Robert sighs again, heavier this time, and shakes his head, following behind.

*~~~*

Robert gets even more confused when the taxi pulls up next to a club. He gets out and turns to the group, asking, “Weren’t we just going to another pub or a bar?”

Meghan walks up to him and runs her hand over his shoulder. “And where’s the fun in that?”

Trevor smirks at him, wrapping an arm around Meghan’s middle. “Come on, Rob, lighten up a little. It’ll be fun.”

Robert bites his tongue, deciding that snapping at the little git wouldn’t do him any favors. Instead he says, “It’s Robert and this isn’t what I had in mind when I agreed to this.”

Trevor and Meghan laugh at him and start walking away to the queue while Lucas pats him on the back, leaving his hand at the nape of his neck. “It’s what our fathers want, Rob; for you to show us a good time and this is how it’s going to happen.”

He shrugs the man’s hand off. “I don’t really care what your fathers want. This is unprofessional to send you instead of coming themselves.” He looks the kid up and down in bewilderment. “I don’t really understand why they thought this would be okay.”

Lucas laughs, loud and obnoxious. “Because they’re too good for you, Rob. You’re some poor little pillock while our fathers are rich and powerful. Don’t you see, mate, they’re having fun at your expense.”

“They’re winding me up then?”

Lucas shrugs, walking away. “And the best part is, is you’re going to deal with it because you can’t lose this deal from what I’ve heard.”

Robert takes a deep breath in, trying to calm himself. This whole thing is ridiculous but he knows Lucas is right. He is going to deal with it. He has to. His and Aaron’s future depends on it. So with another quick, calming breath, he follows along and joins the queue at the entrance to the club. It’s quick moving, so it doesn’t take them long to get in, the three of his companions being ID’d. Robert heads straight for the bar and groans when he feels Trevor’s hand on his shoulder.

“You’re buying us all drinks, mate, and trust me, Meghan can put them back like you wouldn’t believe.” Trevor laughs and orders the three of them drinks. Robert pays reluctantly, glaring at them the whole time, and sighs in relief when they decide to leave him alone for a while to head out onto the dance floor, drinks in hand.

Robert turns back to the bartender and orders himself a beer, pulling out his mobile. He quickly navigates to Aaron’s name and starts typing out a text, wishing he could call him just to hear his voice which he knows will instantly calm him down, but the music is too loud to do such a thing.

To Aaron: sent 19:24

Save me

From Aaron: received 19:25

Sorry, can’t. Got Liv and Gabby drama to deal with. I’ll tell you later. What happened?

Robert sighs to himself again and begins explaining to Aaron what is going on. He finishes his beer by the time he’s done typing it all out and sending it, finding himself ordering another one. He tacks on one last message, wanting to get across just how irritated he is.

To Aaron: sent 19:36

It’s frustrating and unprofessional. They’re treating me as if I’m some chav who doesn’t know what he’s doing

From Aaron: received 19:37

I don’t get it, if it’s that bad then why don’t you just drop ‘em

To Aaron: sent 19:37

Because we need this money, Aaron. It’s for our baby

From Aaron: received 19:39

But is it really worth it?

To Aaron: sent 19:40

Yes it is. Anything is for our baby

From Aaron: received 19:41

Anything? Because we’ve been there before, Rob, and look where it’s gotten you

Robert rolls his eyes at that, annoyance building up in him for Aaron’s use of his past to have a go at him again.

To Aaron: sent 19:42

This isn’t like last time. This is legit

Robert can practically hear Aaron’s scoff as he waits for a reply.

From Aaron: received 19:42

Yeah okay. All I’m saying is don’t do too many things you’re uncomfortable with just for this

To Aaron: sent 19:43

I won’t. Promise

From Aaron: received 19:43

I’ve got to go. Try to have at least a little fun, yeah?

To Aaron: sent 19:43

Impossible without you

Robert smirks as he puts his phone back in his pocket, knowing Aaron scoffs again as he shakes his head, chuckling slightly at Robert’s comment. He turns around and leans against the bar, watching the crowd as they dance wildly to the music that is playing. He shakes his head in amusement. There are so many people that are willing to make fools of themselves once a little bit of drink is in them.

Within fifteen minutes, Robert is well and truly bored. He hasn’t left the bar and he finished his second beer ages ago. He debates getting another but he’s not really fancying the idea of getting plastered tonight so decides to forgo it. The problem is, now, he’s stood by the bar with nothing to do but people watching and he doesn’t even have anything to occupy his hands with. Robert scans the crowd for Trevor, Lucas, and Meghan and spots them in a frenzied dance, looking as if they are having a brilliant time.

Rubbing at his eyes, Robert turns back around to face the bar and orders another drink, relenting to the fact that he needs to do something to get through this night. He wonders how long he has to stay for it to be appropriate to leave, and figures he’ll probably have to buy his “mates” for the night a couple more rounds. As if in answer, Meghan comes up to him and leans in close to his ear, speaking loudly to be heard over the music, and hand snaking its way around his waist. “‘Nother round on you, aye?”

Robert nods with an eye roll and waits for the bartender to come his way before getting his attention. He orders them a couple more drinks, handing over a few more quid than necessary to pay for any future drinks they might get. She walks away with a flirtatious smirk and wink and Robert feels his face turn into a grimace before he can stop himself. Megan throws her head back and laughs, the sound lost in the noise of the music.

He’s stood there for another thirty minutes before he decides enough is enough. This whole night was a waste of time and he’s tired, agitated, and just wants to go home to Aaron where he can snuggle up next to him in bed. Robert sets his beer bottle down on the bar and pushes off it, ready to go tell Lucas that he’s leaving when someone bumps into him, spilling half their drink on his shirt. Robert has to bite his tongue to stop the retort that wants to come out, his mood becoming even more sour. He likes this shirt.

“So sorry, mate!” Robert looks up from his soaked shirt to a bloke who is about his age. The man reaches out to wipe at the liquid staining Robert’s shirt before realizing that he doesn’t actually have anything to wipe it up with. He pulls his hand back, frowning. “Shit, I didn’t see you there.”

Robert has to take a deep breath before speaking. “It’s alright.” He turns in the direction of the toilets.

“Oi, let me help you,” the man says, walking beside Robert.

Robert holds his hands out, dismissing him. “I’ve got it, thanks.”

“Look, it’s my fault. Just,” the man puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping Robert from walking away, “I want to help.”

Robert resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Fine.”

They both head into the toilets where the music quiets to a low thump, Robert’s ears ringing slightly. He grabs a handful of paper towels and starts to dab at his shirt. “You’ve got to get the towel wet first.” Robert’s eyes snap up to the mysterious bloke who spilled his drink on him.

“Look, I’m just trying to dry it. I was on my way home.”

“But you don’t want it to stain,” the man says as he grabs more paper towels and wets them under the tap. “Here.” He reaches over and starts to wipe at Robert’s shirt.

Robert stands there, not really knowing what to do. He can feel the heat beginning to crawl up his neck at the other man invading his space, getting uncomfortable at the proximity. The only person who isn’t blood related to him (besides Diane, of course, but she’s like blood) who has been this close to him recently is Aaron. He grabs a hold of the man’s hand. “I can do it.”

The man shrugs, taking a step back and handing over the paper towel. “Suit yourself.”

Robert eyes him before looking back down at his shirt. It couldn’t have just been a beer that was spilt on him. No, it had to be some fancy, colorful drink that is surely going to leave a blotch of red on his shirt. He sighs in defeat, throwing the paper towel in the bin. “It’s no use.” When Robert looks back up, the man is biting his bottom lip and Robert has to roll his eyes at the sight. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Well, at least let me buy you a drink to make up for it.”

Robert’s shaking his head before the bloke even finishes his sentence. “No need. I was going home.”

“Just one drink.” The man is smiling at him.

“I’m married,” Robert says, pointedly.

The man chuckles. “I noticed, I saw the ring.” His smile grows, playful like. “Come on, it’s a harmless drink. Just to say sorry.”

Robert stares at him, debating. One drink won’t hurt, will it? It’ll please this man and it’ll give his shirt a little time to dry before going home. Sure he’ll still smell like a boozer but at least he won’t have to ride home in a taxi with a sopping wet shirt. “Alright, go on then.”

The man’s smile grows impossibly wide and he leads the way back out into the club. They push their way over to the bar where Robert leans down on it, arms crossed, and waiting for the bartender to make his way to them. “Name’s Theo.” The man, Theo , says, leaning a little closer to be heard.

Robert gives him a nod in acknowledgement. “Robert.”

Theo purses his lips, nods in approval, and turns back to the bar, the bartender asking for their order. Theo orders for the both of them and Robert quirks one of his eyebrows in question. “What?”

Robert shakes his head. “Nothin’. Just don’t want one of those fancy drinks.”

“You mean the ones with lots of colors and weird names?” Theo teases, laughing at him. “Don’t worry, it’s not.”

They don’t have to wait long before Robert spots the bartender coming over with their drinks. He’s about to reach out for his when he hears his name being called. He’s never rolled his eyes so many times in one night. Turning around, he faces Lucas who is perfectly bladdered. “Mate!” He wraps an arm around Robert’s shoulders, leaning into him. Robert suspects if he moved, Lucas would collapse to the floor by how much he was holding himself up on him. “We thought you had left.”

“Yeah, mate , I was just having one more drink then leaving.” Robert tries to push him off but he holds on firmly.

“You haven’t danced with us yet,” Lucas slurs, resting his head on Robert’s shoulder.

Robert groans in annoyance, pushing harder. Lucas stumbles back off him. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

Lucas waves him off, sticking his tongue out at Robert, and Robert stares after him in uncontained disbelief. “Friends of yours?”

Robert turns back to Theo who is holding out his drink. It’s some blue liquid with one of those mini umbrellas in it and an olive, all contained in a cocktail glass. Robert hesitantly grabs for it, frowning. “No, thank God. I was just someone who could pay out on their drinks.”

Theo chuckles. “Then it’s a good thing I bought you yours.”

Robert’s eyes travel back down to his drink. “What in hell is it?”

“Just try it,” Theo says, smile playing at his mouth in amusement. “If you don’t like it then I’ll buy you a beer instead.”

“Didn’t I tell you I was going home?” Robert brings the glass to his lips.

He doesn’t miss the way Theo’s eyes travel the length of his body. “You did and that you’re also married.”

Robert licks his lips. “I don’t cheat.”

“I never asked you too.” Theo gives him a quick nod, directed at the glass still by Robert’s mouth. “Drink.”

Robert shakes his head and sips at the liquid, swallowing thoughtfully. He gives it a second, dragging it out just to annoy Theo who looks at him expectantly. Finally, he shrugs. “It’s not bad.”

Theo nudges him. “See, I told you you’d like it.” The man takes a sip from his own drink, another one of those colorful ones.

“This,” Robert gestures between the two of them, “me drinking this thing, stays between us, yeah?”

“Mate, I’m probably never going to see you again after tonight. Your secret is safe.”

Robert huffs, shaking his head, and drinking more of the blue liquid. Theo watches him from the corners of his eyes, smiling flirtatiously at Robert every once in a while. By the time Robert is done with the whole thing, he’s a little more than just tipsy. He carefully sets the glass down with shaking hands. “How… how much alcohol was in that thing?” Theo shrugs and Robert frowns at him.

“You alright, mate?” Theo asks him, hand landing on Robert’s shoulder.

Robert almost falls to the ground, losing his balance as the room starts to spin. “I…”

He hears Theo laugh beside him, the sound almost distant. “You’re completely pissed.” He puts one of Robert’s arms over his own shoulder, helping Robert keep balance. “Let me help you to a taxi.”

Robert stumbles along as the room continues to spin out of control, leaning onto Theo. His stomach is doing flips and he seriously starts to think he’s going to be sick all over himself when the next thing he knows, he’s in a taxi sat next to Theo. His eyebrows furrow in confusion as his body starts to relax into the seat. “Did I tell you where I live?”

Theo watches him but Robert can’t focus. “Of course, you did. That’s where we’re headed.”

Robert shakes his head, his movement feeling sluggish. “I don’t… I don’t remember telling you.”

When he blinks next, he’s in some kind of lobby, sitting in a chair. He looks around, confused, sweat covering his entire body as he shakes uncontrollably. He’s having a hard time focusing on things, his vision blurry and unfocused. Every once in a while the room will sway and it’ll make his stomach feel like it’s doing somersaults. Robert looks around the room for a bin he can be sick into just in case, but can’t find one.

Theo strides up next to him, lifts his arm, slinging it over his shoulder once more, and helping Robert out of the chair. “Come on.”

He’s cold, that’s why he’s shivering. He’s naked and he’s cold and where is he? Robert looks around again, limbs feeling heavy, and he’s in a room, a hotel room by the looks of it - he doesn’t remember how he got there - with Theo sitting on the edge of the bed, back towards him and fumbling with his… his trainers?

“Wasn’t I going home?” He’s confused. Robert meant to go home. Why is he here? Did Robert tell the taxi driver to bring them here? No, no Robert wouldn’t cheat on Aaron. Not again. Not ever again.

Right?

“Theo…”

Theo turns to him, pulling his shirt over his head. He leans over, kissing Robert softly. “Shh, it’s fine.”

Robert blinks and groans as his heart pounds in his ears. His head feels like there is a hammer inside of it and his body is sticky with sweat. He’s lying on his stomach and Robert groans, the light overhead making his eyes hurt. He tries to bury his face into the pillow but grimaces when his face is met with wetness and the stench of vomit. Turning his head back to the side, his eyes roam over the room. He was expecting to see his bedroom, Aaron next to him, but is confused when he sees unfamiliar wallpaper. Where the hell is he?

Swallowing, he makes to get up, arms feeling weak as he tries to push up. When he bends his right leg to get leverage, fiery hot pain shoots up from his back. He hisses and immediately lies back down, breathing hard. That’s when he realizes it doesn’t just feel like sweat that has made his body sticky. There’s another semi-dry substance on his back and between his cheeks. His stomach churns and Robert has to swallow multiple times to try and keep from being sick, something he has obviously already done but can’t remember doing so.

Did he really get drunk and bring a stranger to a hotel room? No… no, he only had a few drinks. Definitely not enough to get shit faced. No, something else… Theo, Theo had gotten him a drink. Did he get drunk from that one? He couldn’t have. It didn’t taste very strong and besides, he wouldn’t have slept with some random bloke. He doesn’t do that anymore. He knows he doesn’t. Then… then the only explanation is…

Robert groans again, feels the bile rise up his throat, and jumps out of bed to try and make it to the toilet in time. He doesn’t and he ends up vomiting on the floor, pain shooting throughout his entire body. His legs shake with the effort of keeping himself up, one hand supporting his weight on the nightstand. He can feel something dripping down the inside of his thighs and Robert really needs to get out of there.

Frantically, he searches the room for his clothes and when he finds them, he pulls them back on with great effort, trying to ignore the pain his body is in. When fully clothed, he stumbles out of the room and makes his way slowly to the front desk where he tries not to show his discomfort. “Hi, checking out.”

“Name?” the receptionist asks him.

Robert hesitates, not knowing what name Theo put the room under. “Uh, I don’t know what it’s under.”

The receptionist frowns at him and Robert feels his face grow hot in embarrassment. “What room number was it?”

Robert shakes his head. “I-I don’t know.”

Her frown grows more prominent. “Do you have the card key? I can’t check you out if-”

Robert’s stomach flips again. “Just never mind.” He pushes off the counter and heads to the front doors, ignoring the woman’s calls. They’ll just have to figure it out themselves.

When he exits the building, he isn’t expecting it to be pitch black out. Screwing up his eyebrows, he looks at the time on his watch and groans in dismay. It’s half past one in the morning. Aaron is going to be freaking out. Robert quickly gets a taxi and tells the driver where to go, wishing he would drive faster as Robert pulls out his mobile. He has a few texts from Aaron.

From Aaron: received 23:02

Where are you?

From Aaron: received 00:24

When I said to have fun, I didn’t mean stay out this late, Robert

From Aaron: received 01:13

If you think I’m waiting up for you any longer, then you’re wrong

Shit. How is he going to explain this to Aaron? When he said he was going to be home late earlier, he had meant ten maybe eleven at the latest. Not almost two in the morning. Aaron is going to kill him and then when he finds out why Robert was so late, he’s going to resurrect him just to kill him again . Robert has to come up with an excuse and it has to be one that Aaron will believe. Aaron can never know he cheated again.

No, wait, he didn’t cheat. He… he can’t remember but he knows he didn’t cheat. That’s right, he already came to that conclusion earlier in the hotel room. Robert lays his aching head on the window, getting confused again. No, Theo… Theo gave him a drink. That’s when he started to feel weird, after he had drank it. So something… the drink. The drink had something to do with what happened. He can’t remember.

With a pain filled moan, he rubs at his face tiredly. The taxi driver is saying something to him, something about getting out and paying him. Robert lifts his head and looks out the window, eyebrows furrowing. He can’t be home yet. He doesn’t even remember half the drive there.

The drink must not be entirely out of his system yet.

Whatever was in the drink must not be out of his system yet.

Robert struggles out of the taxi and pulls out his wallet and pays the taxi driver. He stumbles up the drive, to The Mill, and fumbles with the keys for almost two minutes before he finally gets his coordination correct to unlock the door. When he enters, everything is quiet and Aaron is nowhere in sight. Glancing at the stairs, he contemplates attempting to climb them but his legs are shaky again and the room is spinning once more.

He barely makes it to the sofa before he collapses on top of it and passes back out.

———————————————————————————————————–

A/N: I haven’t written in months and I feel like the beginning of this chapter shows it, but hopefully it got better as it went.

I have so many British Slang/words links saved that it’s ridiculous.

Also, yes, I know how unrealistic it is for investors to send their kids to the dinner celebration. That’s the wonderful thing about writing. I can have anything happen even though in reality it would probably never happen, lol!

Thank you for reading! I hope you stick around even though I know nothing about the UK and how you all talk. If you want to give me any pointers, please feel free. Am I using too much slang? Should I use arse instead of ass? Let me know! I’m always willing to learn. ^_^

#Emmerdale #Aaron Dingle #Robert Sugden #Robron #My Fanifction #Take it All Away

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