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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years ago

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The Days and Nights are Long

Pairing: clueless!Colin Shea x clueless!fem Reader

Words: ~4K

Summary: You and Colin are being idiots and it’s driving his band crazy.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m receiving oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, squirting), idiots in love, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: It took way longer than I had planned but here’s some more of our drunk, musical idiots in love for you hoes!!! I love them so, even though they’re morons. Tagging my Colin babes @starlightcrystalline and @wayward-blonde because I know they’ve been waiting for this.

I no longer do taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

Colin shook his head and shrugged uncomfortably as he stared at his phone, wracking his brain to think of what exactly he should say to you.

“For fuck’s sake, Shea, just ask her to come up.” Matt looked exasperated, twirling his stick through his fingers as he rolled his eyes when Colin scowled at him.

He’d been moping for the past two weeks, ever since the two of you had slept together. All of his bandmates were getting sick of it, the man was the biggest pouty baby on the face of the planet. If they had to listen to him sing Everybody Hurts one more time they were going to kill him.

So they’d come up with a little plan to get him out of his funk, lining up a gig that would really lend itself better to a female vocalist and feigning innocence when Colin pointed that out. They had really enjoyed hanging out with you on that exceptionally hot evening, and if having you join them again was the only way to get their boy out of his funk, even better. He had actually smiled before pulling his phone out, but then he realized he had no idea what he should say.

The two of you had still been cordial whenever you ran into each other, but there was definitely a strain to your interactions now. No matter how much you both told each other it wasn’t awkward, it was definitely awkward. It was also weird that he was pretty sure you hadn’t come home after 1 AM at all in the last two weeks, and you usually at least spent your weekend nights at some other asshole’s apartment. Not that he’d had any visitors either, but he didn’t want to explore that too much.

He was still staring at his phone screen and trying to come up when some nonchalant greeting that would entice you to come sing with them when the phone was suddenly plucked out of his hand by an exasperated looking Keith, who ignored his spluttering as he typed a quick message before tossing the phone back to him.

“You’re thinking about this too hard.” The bassist said, setting to tuning his instrument and chuckling at the indignant look on Colin’s face.

Colin was about to give a snarky reply when he felt his phone buzz and looked down to see a text from you, grinning when he saw you saying you’d be right up. With an exclamation point! He didn’t even notice the pleased grins his bandmates were giving each other as they watched him start to tune his guitar, plucking a happy little tune and humming to himself.

They were all expecting you to come through the main door from the stairs, so when you shouted hello from behind them after climbing up your fire escape, you were greeted with the sight of five grown men almost jumping out of their skins before turning to greet you.

That grin on your face was enough to make Colin melt, all the awkwardness that had been lingering between you disappearing in an instant when you met each other’s eyes.

“Alright boys!” You took the mic Brad handed you with a warm smile, rolling it in one hand as you trailed the cord through your fingers. “You said you needed my help with something Col, what’s up?”

“Right, these idiots lined up a gig for us without consulting me first.” They all avoided his halfhearted glare with doe eyed innocence, focusing on their instruments. “And, well, the set list isn’t really in my range.”

“Lemme see.” You took the sheet of paper from his hand and scanned it quickly. “That’s a whole lot of girl rock.”

“Yeah, like I said, Ann Wilson and I aren’t really in the same register.” Fuck, it was nice to be able to talk to you again.

“Why don’t you just modulate it, then?” You mumbled absentmindedly.

He gaped like a fish at that question. He honestly hadn’t even thought about it, and even if he had, he wasn’t expecting you to know about modulation.

“If we modulate for him, none of us can hit the harmonies.” Craig piped up from behind the keyboards, and he could have kissed him.

“That right?” You teased, shooting a wicked smirk around at them. “You boys sure you didn’t just miss me?”

Colin tried not to sound too hysterical when he let out a laugh, missing the indulgent eye rolls his band mates were giving behind your backs.

“What do you think, we booked a gig where I can’t sing any of the songs on purpose just so we could hang out again?” Good thing he was pretty, the man was clueless.

“No, you’re not that clever, Col.” He made a mock wounded gesture and you grinned at him, looking over the set list some more. “What kind of gig is this anyway?”

“Yeah, Craig, you never told us what the actual gig was.” Colin and the rest of the band gave the keyboardist a variety of inquisitive stares.

“Uh, it’s a bachelorette party.” He mumbled, avoiding making eye contact with his bandmates when they started groaning.

“Fuck, Craig! I do not want to get felt up by a bunch of drunk, horny women!” Colin threw a balled up sheet of music at you when you started laughing.

“That seems right up your alley, Shea.” You teased, dodging when he threw a pillow from the couch at you. “You don’t want to pick up some rowdy bridesmaid?”

“No, they’re scary aggressive.” He shuddered when he thought about the last bachelorette party they had done, they’d practically ripped the band’s clothes off before they could get out of there.

“Aww, well I’ll be there to shield you this time, sweetie.” You winked at him and moved a little closer to everyone. “Let’s practice, boys. Don’t want to give those girls cause to complain.”

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It was the day of the gig, and you and Colin had decided to drive together to streamline things. He was waiting in your living room and tapping his foot nervously as he waited for you to finish getting ready, anxious about what actually performing with you would be like.

“Y/N, we need to go!” He never thought you would be the type to take forever getting ready.

“Yeah, I know!” You strolled out to the living room with a grin on your face and he had to swallow a groan. “How do I look?”

“Good, really good.” The way he was looking at you made your grin grow even wider.

The outfit wasn’t even that special, just a denim mini skirt and a tight v-neck tee with a leather jacket. Oh, and thigh high leather boots. It was definitely the boots he was staring at, his eyes trained on the few inches of bare skin between the top of the boots and the hem of your skirt. You gave him a couple minutes to just stare at you before rolling your eyes and strolling towards your front door, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him after you.

“C’mon Shea, we don’t wanna be late.” You scolded, shoving his amp into his hand and slinging his guitar case over your shoulder before heading down the stairs.

He had trouble focusing on the road as he drove you to the bar the party was going to be at, all he wanted to do was memorize the way you looked in that outfit. It was like someone told you exactly what to wear to drive him crazy. Maybe bringing you into this gig hadn’t been the best idea, because all he wanted to do right now was pull over and let you ride him while you weren’t wearing anything except for those boots and that jacket, and maybe whatever lingerie you had on under that outfit.

“Colin, you’re going to miss the turn.” Your voice snapped him out of his little daydream, and he cursed as he took the turn towards the bar a little faster than he would have liked.

“Sorry, just got a little distracted.” He mumbled, slowing down as he turned into the alley behind the bar and put the car in park behind Matt’s van.

The rest of the band was already unloading, waving at you two as Colin shut off his vehicle and you stepped out. You actually gave Craig and Keith little side hugs before you started helping with the unloading, he hadn’t realized you guys had gotten that close over the past week, and for some reason it made him smile.

“How’s it going man?” He didn’t know how he felt about the look Matt was giving him as he helped carry the bass drum inside, it felt suggestive of something. “Y/N seems excited to be here.”

“Yeah, I thought she might be nervous about performing but she’s handling everything like a pro.” He watched you laugh at something Brad said as you worked on connecting your mic. “Maybe we should make her an official member.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Matt just shrugged, laughing when Colin rounded on him and started spluttering.

“I was joking! We can’t just ask Y/N to be in the band!” Could they? Having you around had been a lot of fun, and the band dynamic had helped alleviate some of the tension that had been growing between you two. But seeing you tonight looking like you did and knowing that you were gonna have to have some on stage chemistry to make this work was making him think twice about things. You got a little intense during rehearsals, and the added pressure of being on stage might make him combust if you kicked it up at all.

Matt shook his head at him and set to assembling his kit while the rest of the band started tuning and connecting their instruments. You just sat on a stool and sipped some water, running through a couple vocal exercises absentmindedly as you scrolled through your phone. It only took a couple of minutes for everyone to finish setting up and then it was mic checks all around.

Everything sounded good and balanced after a couple adjustments and the sound guys gave you the thumbs up to start warming up. Colin couldn’t stop watching you. You were so unbelievably relaxed on stage and it was just endearing you to him even more. He thought for sure you would have been a bundle of nerves but you seemed to be right in your element, tossing him a couple of lazy grins over your shoulder as you ran through a couple of songs before the partygoers started filtering in.

The band switched to doing some instrumental ambience shit while they waited for the party to really get going, and Colin wandered over to talk to you when you took a step back from your mic.

“Still feeling ok about this?” He asked, beaming back at the soft smile you gave him.

“Yeah, I’m excited.” You bounced on your toes a little, adrenaline flooding your veins as the crowd grew. “Think I’ll get any bras thrown at me?”

“You never know with bachelorettes.” He laughed, strolling back over to his own mic so he could introduce the band.

If he thought jamming with you was special, it was nothing compared to watching you perform. You were a goddamn natural, coming alive and feeding off the crowd’s energy until you were completely lost in the music. Every time his eyes met yours you were grinning at him, and your chemistry with the rest of the band was palpable.

Not to mention, you kept drifting close to him on the stage, brushing your hand over his shoulders or leaning against him when you harmonized and it was making his knees weak. , God, he could do this with you every night, even though he was pretty sure he was going to need to sneak into the bathroom to jerk off afterwards.

The show was over too soon, the extremely drunken crowd of rowdy bachelorettes finally getting crazy enough that the band was ready to make a hasty escape. You were bouncing on your toes with residual energy as you started helping the guys pack up their instruments, grabbing Colin’s amp after he shoved his guitar in the case and you both made a run for it to his car when a wobbly woman started to try to climb on the stage.

“Colin, holy fuck that was so much fun!” You managed to make it to the alley unscathed and were giving him the most heartbreaking grin. “We’re definitely doing this again.”

“Yeah? Well you did a great fucking job.” Goddamn it, he’d missed you. “We can do whatever you want, honey.”

“Really?” You slammed the trunk closed and started to prowl closer to him. “Whatever I want?”

“That is what I said.” He could feel his voice dropping into that low register that meant he was in desperate need of some sort of release, so he really hoped he wasn’t misreading this situation. “Why? Did you want something now?”

“I think I do.” Your chest was right against his and you could feel it heaving, gazing at him through your lashes while you ran your fingers over his abs. “I stole the keys to the van.”

“And, you wanna go on a joy ride?” He breathed deep when you brushed your lips over his, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

“Or, we could just fuck in the back while the rest of the guys search for these.” You pulled back a little and jingled the keys in his face, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth while he ran his hands over your hips.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” He smashed his lips to yours and let out a low moan, his fingers digging into your ass while the two of you stumbled towards the side door of the van.

You fumbled with the keys for a minute because you didn’t want to take your mouth off Colin for any reason, but then you were sliding the door open and the two of you were falling inside in a tangle of limbs before somehow managing to kick the door closed behind you. Trying to undress each other was a little difficult with how wrapped up you were in each other but you managed, tossing your garments away haphazardly as your tongues curled tangled together. Colin grabbed your hands when you went to remove your boots, pulling them up to his face and kissing your palms before winding your arms around his neck.

“Keep those on.” His voice was a low growl and fuck, you forgot how sexy he was.

“Well, cannot say I’m surprised you're a little kinky, Col.” You wound your fingers through his hair and yanked, purring at the groan he gave you. “I’m gonna suck that pretty dick of yours, but then I’ll give it to you nice and rough.”

“God, baby.” He wished he didn’t sound so whiny when you started kissing your way down his chest, but he hadn’t gotten any release except from his hand for the past two weeks and he really needed you to keep doing what you were doing. “I’ll take whatever you give me.”

“Yeah? Knew you were a good boy.” You winked at him when you started kissing the skin above the band of his boxer briefs before you were yanking them down his thighs and immediately licking a heavy stripe up the underside of his cock when it sprung up against his abs.

Colin had to brace a hand against the side of the van when you worked him over, spitting on his tip and watching it drip down his length before spreading it over him with your lips. You wrapped your hand around his shaft and gave him a nice, smooth stroke as you ducked down between his length to press gentle kisses over his balls while you jerked him off. He almost choked on his tongue when you wrapped your lips around his sack and tugged softly, the hum you let out sending a vibration up his spine while your thumb swiped over his swollen tip.

The sounds he was making from just a handjob were enough to soak through the thin lace of your panties, and when he shouted your name when you moved a little lower and teased your tongue over his asshole, well you almost fucking came just from that. You couldn’t believe you had stupidly waited two fucking weeks before indulging in this man again, you finally felt like yourself again. It was driving you absolutely crazy, the way his hips were wriggling underneath you spurring you on until you couldn’t take it any more.

If he thought your hand was incredible, it was nothing compared to the feel of your lips wrapped around his tip while your tongue swirled around his sensitive head. With all the women he’d slept with, he’d definitely suffered through some mediocre and downright disappointing blow jobs. But you felt like you were about to suck the soul out of him, and you’d only just started.

“Ah, Christ.” He was going to pass out if you kept going like this, your mouth was like fucking heaven. “Honey, fuck.”

You shot him a wicked look when you started bobbing your head, taking him just a little deeper each time while your tongue curled around him as much as possible. Then you opened your throat and swallowed him whole and he lost his mind.

He wrapped his hand in your hair and held your head still as he started fucking your throat, his hips bucking wildly while you choked and sputtered around him. Drool was running down your chin and soaking his thighs as you started breathing through your nose, digging your fingers into his thighs while he used you like a fuck toy. You kept your tongue pressed flat against your bottom teeth to avoid choking on it, moaning softly when you tasted the salty tang of his precum hit your tongue. His grip on your hair was growing painful, and you could tell by the way his abs were twitching that he was close.

“Wait, ah shit!” He somehow managed to gather enough self control to pull out of your mouth, groaning at the long string of saliva that kept you connected even as you bit at your swollen lips. “I’m not coming unless it’s in that pretty pussy. How do you want it?”

“Fuck me from behind, Col.”

He growled as he sat up and smashed his lips to yours, savoring the taste of himself on your tongue before flipping your over and burying his face in your hair. You let out a low moan when he slammed into you with no warning, gasping at the punishing pace he was setting and purring when he started mouthing at your neck.

The van was shaking like some sort of cliche while Colin fucked into you with abandon, his hips bouncing off your ass in an obscene display while the two of you whined and panted together. Colin was going to lose his fucking mind, two weeks with barely even talking to you and now he was finally inside you it was all he could do to not go completely feral.

“Oh god, honey.” He was practically whining against your skin when you clenched around him, sucking your ear lobe between his lips while you arched your back and purred for him. “Fuck, you’re so tight and wet. Pussy so fucking good. Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you come.”

“So close, Colin, shit!” You gasped when he hit you deep, curling your body backwards around him and reaching over your shoulder to wind your fingers through his hair and press his lips to yours. “Need that dick so bad. Feel so good when you’re inside me.”

“I know, baby, I know.” He wound one hand around your neck and the other arm around your waist, holding you close while he kissed you deeply and swallowed your wanton mewls with a deep groan. “Come for me.”

His hips ground against you and you slapped the floor of the van when you came, sobbing into his mouth and vibrating underneath him while your pussy strangled his cock. Your teeth nipped at his lips once you were finished, humming happily as he continued fucking you through your high.

“Need more, Colin.” You whimpered when he started slowing down, trying to thrust your hips back towards him as you tried to bring yourself to the edge again. “Harder, I need it.”

“Fuck, I’ll give you whatever you fucking want.” He tugged at your lips with his teeth, squeezing your neck gently and groaning at your soft whimper as you clenched around him. “Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good.”

You couldn’t respond when he started pounding into you furiously, the way his cock was punching against your soft walls making it a little hard to breathe, never mind thinking. He was hitting every spot you needed him to with each thrust, grunting into your ear each time his hips slammed into you until he felt your breath hitch.

Every time he bottomed out you thought you were going to pass out, the tip of his cock punching against your cervix and making you see stars. It was so good, he was hitting you so deep and smooth you couldn’t believe you’d been denying yourself for so long.

Colin growled when a particularly vicious push had your entire body rising off the floor of the van, your fluttering sigh sending a shiver of pleasure through his body. One more thrust and you lost it, screaming with ecstasy as every muscle in your body vibrated and you squirted all over Colin’s thighs and the floor.

“Fuck, fuck, baby.” Colin was desperate, his rhythm completely gone as he chased his own end while you fluttered around him. “Gonna fill this pretty little pussy up until I’m leaking outta you for the next week.”

“Oh god, please.” Your eyes rolled up in your head while you let him use you, his lips tracing your jaw hungrily as you pushed your hips back to meet his. “Give it to me, Colin.”

He buried his face in your neck and let out a strangled cry when his hips stuttered, thick, warm ropes of white shooting against your soft walls until he was collapsing on top of you with a sated moan. You tangled your fingers with his above your head as your breathing regulated, his breath hot on your neck while the two of you melted into each other.

“We’re not waiting two weeks again, right?” Colin’s arms wrapped around you as he nuzzled into your hair, his lips spreading in a slow smile when he felt you purr contentedly.

“Nope. I’m definitely gonna need this to happen on the regular.” You turned a little so you could rub your nose against his. “You know, in between our other, normal escapades.”

“Right.” His heart fell a little at that, but maybe just interspersing his trysts with you with his other one night stands would help flush his crush on you out of his system.

Before he had a chance to say anything else there was a sudden pounding at the van door, snapping the two of you out of your haze with a pair of exasperated groans.

“Shea!!!” You untangled yourselves as you started to pull on your clothes. “That had better be Y/N in there! If you sad fucked some bachelorette and we have to listen to you sing stupid breakup songs for the next month I’m going to kill you!”

#natalie writes #colin shea smut #colin shea x y/n #colin shea x you #colin shea x fem!reader #colin shea x reader #colin shea #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans character #eighteen plus #eighteen and over #do not interact if you are a minor

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blissfulparker · 3 years ago

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Wipeout⇔ Surfer!Dad!tom

Parings: surfer!dad!tom x surfer!reader

Summary; You and Tom spend your whole relationship in the water. Surfing under the summer sun and competing in summers biggest surf competition. To a surpise, you and Tom take on the biggest challenge nature could throw at you. A baby.

Wc: 9k

Warnings: mentions of insecurities durning pregnancy, fluff

A/n: I know this isn’t a birthday themed fic for Toms b-day but I hope you all enjoy! My little spin on a summer fic with dad!tom 🥰

June.

The summer breeze rose goosebumps to your skin. Your hands coming up to rub your arms as the water was only a bit colder today.

it was summer, the best part of the year when you lived with a beach in your backyard. Spending your whole life surfing you now prepared for the summer tournament that happened only weeks away from now. Surfers, fans, media come in from nearly all over the world just to compete.

To feel a wave under their boards and the adrenaline that rushes through your blood when you finally get on top. The same competition that lead you to Tom, Tom who was now your boyfriend of two years. At first, you laughed at the boy.

Pale, shy—yet so cocky and from London of all places. The most water they got is from the sky. You wanted to laugh with your friends for how confident he was acting, little rain boy wanted to have a chance in the big ocean and he did. To your shock, he scored better than you and scored to be in the top 10. Your laughs stopped after competition and maybe it was the slight momentary enemy thing or it was that deep blue bikini that made him find you after the games and get you out for a drink.

That drink was truly a shared basket of fish and chips as you talked more and more about each other. Pale, rainy London boy ended up being the best thing that ever happened to you.

“You wiped out twice!” He sits atop his board and your hands rub over your face.

“Maybe because I’m distracted!” You splash water in his direction. His toned abs always tanner during g this year and it was hard for the both of you to control yourself. “I’m just tired, stressed.” You shrugged it off truthfully.

“You fell asleep at 8:00 last night, grandma.” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“Competition stress.” You point to him and he shrugs. If he’s honest, within the two years he’s known you, two years he’s loved and wondered where you had been all his life, he knew your stress. When you were stressed you oftentimes took long showers or wrote in your journal for hours on end but this time your stress was sleeping early/in late and a few times he’s caught you throwing up. All under the name of stress.

He didn’t push anything though, reminding you that he is there and you could tell him anything. But nonetheless, he left you be and just kissed your cheek and told you everything was okay.

“Race you to shore and whoever gets back inside first gets the leftover chicken from last night!” He starts to swim and you quickly flatten yourself on your board.

“What are we like five?” You call out but still push yourself to go faster. Pushing yourself to race him to shore.

Even though Toms board was definitely double his size, he still beat you into the house, already washed off and reheating the leftovers for lunch. After a morning swim you always had lunch before you went off to work where you would teach little kids how to surf. No matter what, you were always around the water.

“So I was checking the competition list this week, checking to see if there’s anyone new…” he trails off on a story. The two of you share the chicken and fries before you suddenly get a disgusted taste in your mouth. The chicken suddenly becomes sour in your mouth but you force yourself to swallow, Tom notices the change and he stops everything to make sure you’re okay.

“Darling, what is it?” He has a worried look but you shake your head.

“Nothing—it’s nothing. I-I just think this part of my chicken was a bit undercooked and it grossed me out. It’s nothing.” You smiled at him and he waited a second before continuing his story.

But that wasn’t the end of it, the next bite even more sour and this time you drop your fork and open the trash can to spit it out. The spitting then followed by spitting up all of your breakfast and lunch. Tom quickly coming to move any stray hair and rubbing your back as he tried to not throw up himself.

When you were done, he quickly closed the trash can lid and got you into the bathroom where he assembled the toothbrush for you.

“Peaches, I know that you told me not to worry but this is the third time this week.” He folded his arms as he leans against the wall.

“I’m fine.” You say through a mouth filled with toothpaste. Spitting into the sink and rinsing your mouth while also splashing some water over your face. When you look back up, just a bit, your eyes flicker to the untouched box of tampons.

One week late wasn’t so bad, one week late was just some built up stress and every women had been a week or two late before. But before tom can take notice in your distraction, you turn around to him who hands you a towel.

“But you’re not fine.” He argues a bit gently, not wanting to offend you.

“Tom, in school I would throw up during exam seasons all the time. It’s just stress okay? Better than losing hair or breaking out I guess.” You try and joke with him but he doesn’t exactly laugh. Just stares at you worried and you push back a few of his curls.

“Hey, look at me,” you tell him and his eyes meet yours. “I’m fine, seriously! Just a bit of stress and nothing the ocean water and you can’t fix.” You kiss his cheek and he finally smiles.

“Can you go see a doctor? For yourself and if not for yourself then for me, I want you to do good at competition and you know they won’t let you compete if you are sick in anyway.” He rubs up and down your sides and you sigh. Hating the doctors but you agree.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make an appointment but they will just tell me I just have butterflies.” You tell him and that’s when he grows a smirk.

“Aw, babe, I didn’t know after all these years I still gave you butterflies!” He teased and you rolled your eyes playfully nudging your body against him. Both leaving the bathroom, your eyes flicker over to the untouched box to tampons that just taunt you one last time before tom shuts the bathroom door. It was possible, you just didn’t want it to be possible just yet.

“I should’ve canceled, I should be there!” Tom speaks through the phone. You sat in an empty, cold doctors office waiting for blood results to get back.

Despite Toms over worrying, everything was fine. They couldn’t find anything physically wrong with you and agreed when you mentioned how it was just anxiety and nerves. Yet they still had to run a blood test to make sure it wasn’t anything they missed and couldn’t see with the naked eye.

Meanwhile tom had to be the most dramatic person out there. You always told him if he was not a surfer he would be an actor. It was impressive how every single night before bed he had a new condition to diagnose you with. Some so severe and outrageous you had to remind him that this wasn’t 1600s England and that you didn’t have the plague. That things were just from stress and if it was a stomach bug then let it run through.

Yet he would rant to you nearly every single night about how he’s always loved you and hated that this was the way to go. Always with that you would smack him with a pillow and tell him to go to sleep and with that he would kiss your cheek and hold you tight as he fell asleep.

“Tom, it’s fine. Seriously! They said they couldn’t find anything wrong, you’d be wasting your time to come here. The most you’d get out of this visit is maybe a sticker. Does Tommy want his girlfriend to bring him back a sticker?” You used a baby voice and you could practically hear him going red.

With a scoff he replies, “Ugh, no. What am I like five?” He pauses for a moment. “But what kind do they have? Were you able to check?” He asked in more of a quiet voice and you laugh.

“No clue. But the nurse told me the best thing I could do is just drink some tea and rest. Maybe they have some spiderman stickers or Sofia the first stickers.” You fiddle with the loose thread on your pants. Ending with a joke to calm both yours and Tom's nerves.

With a smirk, Tom Says, “you’ve been drinking some British tea for awhile—“ he jokes and you quickly cut him off.

“Tom!” You say and as if it was a sign, the nurse comes back in with a clipboard and a gentle smile. “Hey, I’ll call you back, the nurse has my results.”

“Wait! Before you go, ask them to check for tapeworms—“ before he could finish you hung up.

“He’s just dramatic.” You laughed a bit and the nurse laughed along before taking a seat across from you. She clicks her pen which makes you nervous for some reason.

“So your blood came back fine, everything is okay. I just have a few little things such as are you on any birth control?” She asked and you shook your head.

“Oh no, um...haven’t been for a while. But my boyfriend and I use protection and we’re safe. We only used planB once and that was a year ago.” You tell her but she looks up at you. Nodding as she purses her lips.

“Condoms only go so far sweetheart. We just have to ask patients who we find to be with a child incase of any birth control so we can remove it immediately, the birth control, I mean, remove that immediately.” With child. You were with a child. Pregnant. Your heart nearly falls out of your chest and the nurse says a few more things but they don’t register.

“Y-You mean there’s a baby inside of me?” You don’t know what color you look right now but you would assume pale, or green with the feeling of vomiting and this time not from slightly uncooked raw leftover chicken.

“Yup, about one month along it looks! We still will want to run more tests and…” she talks more and more but you don’t listen. Your brain foggy, you don’t know if you’re going to pass out or throw up or shit everywhere from how nervous you were. Hell, even all three seemed like an option as she talked. “So I’ll leave you to tell the important news?” She asked. This was apart of her regular day to day, she probably had hundreds of girls like you come in. Clueless and thinking of a stomach bug and then finding out they are pregnant.

“Y-Yeah.” You try to form a smile.

“Perfect, just meet me up at the desk whenever you’re ready. There’s a bathroom down the hall if you are feeling queasy and of course, help yourself to as many waters in the mini fridge in our waiting room. Congratulations!” She says before she turns out and all you hear is the door click shut. The white noise of the light and the taps of your fingernails against the cool metal bed.

You know it was professional and sweet of her to allow you space to call your significant other but you only stare at Tom's contact. Staring at the word ‘Tommy’ with almost all the heart emojis and his contact pictures of him with the biggest smile.

You have no guts to tell him right in the moment, but rather get off of the paper coated bed and grab your things to leave. Setting up a new appointment with your doctor to see more into the baby. Pregnant, with child, before competition. You and Tom were going to have a faimily.

July.

Tom still hadn’t known the news. It had only been a week but the guilt still ate you alive.

You didn’t want to worry or stress him. You yourself still tried to wrap your brain around it. A baby, every breath you took, every bite of food you ate, every drink you swallowed and every step you took there was a baby you shared it with.

You think about how every time tom had wrapped his arms around your waist this week he gently touched over the baby. Kissing your lying lips, you hated yourself for it.

As for competition, your mind nearly forgot. Still getting in the waters everyday with Tom but this time a bit more cautious. Everytime Tom worried for you, you quickly would cover his worry up with either a joke or kisses.

As for the throwing up, morning sickness was something that came in and out. You started hating the smell of bacon tom cooked in the morning but just waved it off. He noticed your decline in caffeine and beers and wines but you just told him the best athletes only had what’s best for their body before performing.

Tom believed all of it. Every single white lie you told—even though you hated yourself for telling them— believed them.

“How ya feeling?” Toms lips met your forehead as you cuddled up on the couch today. Extra tired and almost positive the baby was screaming at you for rest. You cuddled a bowl of popcorn and a water bottle.

“Mmh, just fine.” You give him a smile as his lips come down to meet yours.

Stealing some popcorn from the bowl, he heads over to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

“I’m thinking we do shrimp tonight?” He looked over and you made a face.

“Ew, no.” You shake your head and he gives a furrowed brow look.

“What? You love shrimp!” He responds and you feel yourself growing hot. Hiding deeper in the Blanket and not wanting to show your face.

“Well, I’m just not in the mood for it tonight.” That was another thing, lots and lots of emotions. Luckily Tom had plenty of emotions to match.

“Okay...tuna?” He offers and you shook your head. “Steak?” Once again and no. “Chicken?” No. “Okay, love, you’ve gotta help me out. I know you’re not feeling well but I’m helpless in here.” He says and your eyes start to water. He notices and immediately comes over.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he comes in front of the couch and crouches down to you. “What’s wrong?” He stroked your cheek and you shook your head.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” You sniffle. “Seriously, I’ll help you. I’m thinking pasta.” You smiled and he did too.

“Yeah that’s not too bad.”

And so you two made and ate dinner completely normally. No tears from you, no sickness from you. Tom only talked about the waves out today and how much you would’ve loved it. Now you two spent time washing up.

“You think that one girl with red hair will be there like last year? She was so annoying.” You laughed as you got excited again for competition. Tom grew tense as you mentioned it. You noticed that. How he didn’t talk much about competition anymore. It went from the only thing you two talked about to now nothing. You knew how excited he was, the both of you were but suddenly it was like that excitement was put in a box to rest.

“Yeah...she was.” He kinda laughed but then just washed harder at the dish.

“Everything okay? You’ve kinda stopped talking about competition.” You put down your plate and that's when he took a deep breath.

“It’s nothing, I promise.” He tells you, pressing his lips into a lying smile that you knew.

“Baby, you can tell me anything you know. I’m always here for—“ and with that, he cut you off and told you the words you hated to hear.

“I-I took you out of the competition,” Tom sighed, dropping the dish rag on the counter in defeat. He watches as your face goes from annoyed to shock. Anger builds behind the eyes he find peace in. “It was wrong me me to do so—“

“damn right it was wrong of you to do so!” You slam your hand on the counter. “W-why would you?”

“You were sick! You were so sick for so long and what was I going to let you do? just make yourself worse—“

“it was the stress! I told you it was the—“

The built up ignored tension between you both finally caused him to snap.

“Is your period being late stress too?” His words caused the room to be silent. You take a sharp breath as you stare at him with anger but not at him anymore, at the fear of your new life.

“I’m just late, it’s normal for a woman like me to be rhis stressed and late...” you trailed off and this time he had the red face.

“Bullshit. What happened at that doctors appointment.” He demanded. You didn’t say a word at first which only angered him more. “Damnit (y/n)—“

“I’m pregnant.” You finally cry out and he knew his thoughts could be true, he knew they had to be but the moment those words left your mouth his whole body froze. He went pale with fear and shock, his hand no longer gripping the counter out of anger but out of support in case he passes out. The tears that left your eyes were uncontrollable as you let out a sob, the first sob that snapped tom back into reality.

He didn’t think twice, his arms supportively wrap around you as he tells you sweet nothings to try and calm you and himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He mumbled into your hair. You swallowed hard as you pulled back, your face wet with tears and you sniffled. His thumbs come up to wipe away each tear and each trace of mascara.

“Because I wanted to be normal still! I wanted to compete, I wanted to surf! I can’t surf anymore tom, i'm going to be a mom and I won’t have time for surfing.” You sob more and he only pulls you back into his grasp.

“I’m so selfish and stupid to even think to compete but I just want to n-not—“ you can’t even spit it out anymore.

“Who said you can’t surf when you’re a mom?” He moved back to hold your face. You didn’t look at him, he wasn’t going to force you to either. This was your decisions right now, he just wanted to listen.

“When you’re a woman and a mother, everything is for your child. You will have time to surf because you’re a dad but no one wants a mom to do anything but take care of their kid and I’ll love this baby so much, I will, but don’t want to lose myself. I’m young, you’re young and you’re about to be the next big thing.” You punch his shoulder playfully trying to lighten things up. “I—i-W-we’ll—“ you start again and he shakes his head.

“Don’t even say it. Sweetheart, you’re having a baby, our baby. I will make sure you still surf, when it’s safe, Of course. I-I don’t even have the words right now, my heart is racing, feel it.” He placed your hand over his chest to feel his pounding heart. “You will be (y/n) Holland, the infamous surfer that beat Tom Holland twice last year and you will be the mother to our kid. Their badass mom.” He cracks a smile as his hand goes to your stomach.

A shared moment where he only touches the stomach as he learns about it. You look at him softly and he looks at you as if you were the entire world. As if he was a little kid at sea world for the first time, he looks at you with beauty and hope and a hint of thankfulness

“For a minute,” you speak again. “I thought you were completely calm about this.” You chuckle and he shakes his head.

“No, I actually think I’m going to throw up.” He held his breath for a moment before he moved to the trash can and emptied his worried stomach.

This time it was you rubbing his back and wiping his mouth. Maybe you wanted to roll your eyes at the Irony but you just knew he loved you.

Holland. He used the last name Holland on you for the first time you’d ever heard it. He said it so confidently as if you two were already married. Holland. You can get use to that.

Day of competition

there was this sort of shock in everyone’s face as they watched you walk in shorts and a tee. Joining the crowds of people instead of getting ready for the waves of water.

This year was no wetsuit with your board, slathering sunscreen on your face as you got ready but rather taking a seat in that sand just like everyone else. Carrying a baby no one knew about except you and Tom and a few friends and family.

Your body was warm with nerves, hundreds of cameras here usually captured the sea, interviewing the surfers afterwards. Although it was not like Hollywood, there was no TMZ or dailymail, but there was enough interest and news casters to tilt their heads for why they infamous (y/n) (y/l/n)—soon to be (y/n) Holland—took a seat with the friends and family. Cheering on from the sand.

“Hey.” Z snaps you out of your constant looking around, how your eyes never focused on one thing.

“Ease up a bit, babes, no one even knows.” She knew, you knew you had to explain to her when you were sitting out. Just as Tom explained to his brothers and the two of you both would explain to his mother after competition. For he knew the women would get so excited she would explode

“Right.” Was all you said as you started clapping with the rest of the crowd when the games begun. It would be a moment for them to get to tom, they always let the younger ones go first, you and Tom were in that fine middle where you had to wait just for the middle of the games.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” Z asked with a hint of excitement to her voice. She kept it quite enough to where it was just you.

“I’m okay with either.” You didn’t ever care much for gender, although a girl would be nice to balance out the male testosterone you’re always around. “A girl would be nice though.” You smile at Z.

She gives a smile back, leans back on the towel as she soaks up the sun. “And Tom?” She asked and you shrugged.

He had talked about almost everything but a boy or girl, when you asked if he cared he told you,

“as long as they have two arms, two legs, a torso, a head, comes out of me with no trouble, then it’s a perfect surfing buddy.” You quote him exactly, smiling at his words from a few nights ago.

When he found out, his hands never left your stomach, even though you reminded him the baby was only the size of a grape. That well...it was just a bunch of cells forming up in the moment that couldn’t exactly kick for it had legs the size of your pinky nail. He still waited, he waited and waited, you didn’t even know what he was waiting for at one point for he would pause between his words at the baby or when he asked you a question he looked down at your stomach as if they would reply for you or before you.

“I know hes nervous as hell, but he’s so excited, I know it. The other day Harrison told me he cried when he told him. Tom, crying.” Z laughed a bit and you did too.

“If you think I’m the emotional one...turn on coco or inside out and see what happens to that man.” You chuckled as you turned your head back to the waters to watch tom with a smile on his face blow a kiss in your direction before getting on his board. Paddling out to the sea you watch him get ready to take the first wave, the crowd goes wild and your hand rests over your stomach.

This time, next year, you would sit on these sands with a smaller version of the two of you.

August.

Being early in your pregnancy but far enough to show was not as glamorous as people made it be.

Your shorts no longer fit, shirts started to get loose at the top and tight at the bottom and for the love of heaven you slept so much. Tom liked the idea of endless naps, somedays you wondered if he was the pregnant one instead of you. As he slouched around, ate just as many snacks as you and started to even complain about some of the same things you did.

Maybe it was the impact your moods had on him or the fact he stopped drinking caffeine since you no longer could have it and he didn’t know what his life was before morning coffee was with you. He was almost the same as you were durning the pregnancy.

“What are you doing?” Putting on a bikini for the first time since you told Tom. For the first time in about a month. You didn’t like the fit much anymore, the bloation you constantly had and the extra weight you now carried in your thighs, arms and breasts made you insecure. The top that used to fit perfect now had you grunting to tie. But you had to wear what you had to wear to get you in the water.

“I’m coming with you to the beach.” You say innocently and he shakes his head.

“You’re not picking up a board, you know that. Besides, the waters have been rough lately, there’s that storm coming in and one hard wave can hit you and I don’t want that to happen.” He exaggerates and you look at him with a dead stare.

“Tom, I haven’t touched the water in over a month, I’m pretty sure my skin cells are changing because of it.” You exaggerate as well and he comes up to you.

“Well, I’m not letting you in the water. It’s too dangerous.” He was serious, at first you thought he was just being dramatic, he was still going to let you swim but he was 100% serious.

“Tom, you’re kidding.” You scoff a bit and he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry darling, I know a lot is happening—“ he starts and you move back.

“The doctor said I am healthy enough to be physically active and I—“ before you could finish he cut you off.

“The doctor said you could do some squats, leg workouts, lift a 5lb weight, that was the type of exercise he said. The waters are too dangerous, please don’t argue with me.” He pleads but your emotions get the best of you. Anger starting to build and your body heating up.

Tom had learnt one thing so far; don’t upset the pregnant women and that’s exactly what he did.

“You’re telling me to not argue with you when you are the one holding me hostage in my own home? God, Tom, I have a life still too! A month ago you said you understood what it was going to take and now you’re treating me the way I specifically asked not to! I’m getting in the water, I haven’t been in the water for months it feels like and that’s all I know—“ your rant continues but Tom isn’t looking at you anymore. He’s looking at your side view in the mirror.

Your bump is showing, the bump he swore he could kinda feel but not see was now showing. Almost like it grew overnight.

“Fuck, Tom! Look at me while I’m—“ you start to yell again but he steps closer.

“Look.” He stares at the mirror and comes closer to your bump.

“Oh my…” you see exactly what he’s seeing. The small curve outwards that is your swollen stomach. Your bump.

“May I?” He asked and your mood went from angry to overfilled with happiness. Your eyes starting to tear ss you nodded.

“Tom, it’s your child too, you can touch.” You told him and he did. Your hand even went to your stomach as you rubbed over the bump that was barely forming.

“It’s like it happened overnight.” He laughed a bit and you did too.

“I swear it wasn’t there last night when I got out of the shower. I swear.” You let a few tears fall and he peppers soft kisses.

“I’m sorry.” He gently stroked at the stomach and you sniffled.

“I’m sorry too. I know you just want what’s best for us but I’m just…” you sniffle some more not being able to finish.

“I know baby, I know.” He gets up and wraps his arms around your back. Pulling you in for a hug for you to cry on his chest. So emotional over everything but he was right there. Right there with you.

“We can call the doctor about you surfing, we can call him right now if you want. But I just can’t lose you.” He gives a smile and you nod as your lips meet with his.

“C-can you order the chicken from the place I like?” You finally regain your composure and he nods.

“Of course, anything else?” He looks down at the stomach and you shake your head.

“No, not for now.” You smile down at the small bump forming. “Wait!” You stop him as he’s leaving to grab the phone. He turns to face a guilty looking you, “and mozzarella sticks.” You rub your stomach and he nods. With a faint smile he goes,

“always.” As that was your constant craving. Leaving you in the room for a moment and coming back to see you dressed back ins sweats and a tee shirt, Tom smiled and gladly cuddled up next to you, rubbing and talking to the bump about the future. Maybe you couldn’t surf, but you had Tom right by your side.

December.

Christmas cookies and sweetly salted popcorn occupied your side as you spent a snowy Christmas in London. No beach, no blazing sun even during the day, Tom took you home where you were now five months pregnant.

Heavily showing and to even think you wanted to go surfing months ago was laughable. You hated getting up to shower somedays for it was too much work.

“Darling, Angel, my pretty girl,” Tom sat next to you nervous with his next words. “I know you’re pregnant but there are only so many Christmas cookies.” He told you and you smacked his shoulder.

“Thomas, she’s pregnant! She’s allowed as many cookies as she wants besides there are more in the oven but pregnant women gets first pick as she is carrying my grandchild.” His mom immediately came to your defense. Taking so much good care of you while you were here, Tom doesn’t even think he got this much affection as a sick child.

“I wasn’t saying it’s a bad thing for her to eat cookies, I just want one!” Tom defended himself and you handed him a cookie and you felt your baby kick.

“See? They don't even want you stealing our cookies. I’m eating for two, I’m eating for your baby. You eat a lot by the way! Remember that summer you went through the whole fridge in a week? Yeah, now I’m eating for a tiny version of that! And myself! It’s hard out here for me and what did you do huh? Take two minutes!” You snatched the cookie back from him and rubbed your stomach. His brothers stifled a laugh and Tom grew red in embarrassment.

“I last longer than two minutes.” He says is a mumble.

Rolling your eyes, You rested your head on Toms shoulder and moved his hand over to the kicking stomach. “She says thank you.” You smile as you take a bite from the cookie.

“A she?” His mom perks up and the rest of the family does.

It was a mistake, you and Tom had a battle of the sexes. It seemed as if you didn’t want to know the gender right before your winter holiday. Or really the gender at all. The gender was available for you guys now but you both didn’t see it as a big deal. The baby’s room would be filled with ocean themed toys and a gentle blue wall Anyways. And besides, whatever they decide to be they would make the perfect surfing buddy. Although it was still fun to think of, You thought a girl and Tom swore a boy.

“No, mum, we still don’t know I promise. (Y/n) is just messing around.” He swore and the family relaxed again.

“He’s right, I am just joking. Tom is probably right with his assumption, thinking it may be a boy. With all this moving and eating, just like Tom.” You poke his cheek and Tom again flusters in embarrassment.

“Hey, I have a fast metabolism.” He told you and you kissed his temple.

“I know baby, I’m just teasing you. My man knows how to stay fit and sexy.” You playfully rub his stomach and suddenly the stifled laughs from the boys turn into disgusted noises.

There was everything to indicate a boy, well, mostly just a gut feeling. Tom's mother described her pregnancy with Tom to you and it was nearly the same. A baby boy, you could see that. You would need another fridge and a lot more paper towels assuming the babe will be like Tom and eat yet spill everything. You liked the idea of a boy. Plus, Tom had been playing a stupid game where he asked the baby questions making it kick for an answer. When Tom asked if it was a boy or girl, it kicked the moment he said boy.

The ding of the kitchen timer went off, more cookies fresh out of the oven and Tom was quick to jump up.

“Let me help m’lady up.” He grabs your hands and you grunt as you stand up. You walk with Tom at your side and once you are alone eating more cookies in the kitchen your hand rubs over your stomach as you feel the baby kick in excitement.

“Off the topic of gender, I think they miss the ocean. They kick so much just when I sit in the bath like they are having fun in the water.” You mention water and you feel a kick. They couldn’t understand, but they could hear and a smile rose to yours and Tom's face.

“Then they’re just like their mama.” He leans in and kisses your cheek.

“Who knows, maybe once we get back I’ll get in the—“ before you can finish your sentence about surfing, a sharp kick to your bladder causes you to hunch over with a pained face. Tom worried as he held you panicked but you got back up with a deep breath.

“Nevermind, little one didn’t like that idea.” You hold onto his arms tightly.

“Everything okay? Just a bladder kick?” He panicked and you just nodded.

“Yup.” Your face scrunches up again. “Just the bladder.” You suddenly have the urge to pee. “Now shoo, I’ve got to pee.” You tell him and he looks at you in confusion.

“You just peed like—“ you give him a look making him think about how he’s finishing his sentence. “Right, my darling.” He moved out of your way to let you go. Snatching one more cookie from the tray, he smiled as he thought how next year at this exact time, you would be holding a little baby.

April.

One week. You were one week late and as any normal pregnant woman would be resting in bed and rubbing over her swollen belly and anticipating the child’s arrival. Although that was not what you were doing.

Against Tom's wishes, you went back to work to see the kids start up their surfing lessons. Although there would be no swimming for you, no waves for you just yet, seeing the kids happy to be there was something that sparked joy to your heart always. Helped ease your nerves and turn them into excitement.

“Mrs. (Y/l/n)-Holland, look what I learnt how to do!” One of the kids calls out. You had a smile for not only did they call you by both yours and Tom's name, but that they had always been excited to show you new things.

“That was amazing Ryder!” You clapped at the boy who did a handstand. He had a big smile with teeth missing. Your hand went over your stomach again, an aching pain that was noting but a false labor.

The doctor said it was fine. Women always experienced this right before birth and just take a deep breath but don’t waste your time rushing to the hospital just for them to send you home.

It was normal to be late and that you had a stressful year so it was okay. The doctor mentioned that you still felt contractions which meant you were close. But when it was Tom, every slight indicator of pain you felt meant a freak out where he rushed around the house to get the baby bag and try and get you in the car when in reality, you just had to pee.

“T-That’s really cool.” You wince and the boys face goes from excitement to worry. Within the luck, Tom comes jogging from the parking lot with lunch for the two of you. Hoping to get in the water with the kids and keep an eye on you.

“Hey Angel.” He kissed your cheek but noticed your pain. “Everything okay?” He panicked and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, Ryder here was just showing me how he can do a handstand now—“ you can’t even finish as the pain was strong.

“(Y/n)?” Tom needed to be calm, your face scrunched up as you held your swollen stomach. “Darling, Angel, pretty girl, look at me.” He used all the pet names you liked and you looked up at him with worry in your eyes. “I think it’s time for us to meet the little one.” He nods with a trying smile and you feel an even sharper pain.

“Mmh, I can’t do this.” You breath heavily as you hold onto the stomach. “Yes you can, if you can surf a wave that is 12 feet with no wipeout then you can birth our baby.” He promised and also got the little boy who was so excited to show you his new moves a moment ago to run and get another adult.

“Tom, I-I can’t.” You felt yourself tearing up and he shakes his head. Your heart pounding and mind swarming with worried.

“You can, you will. You are the strongest women I—“ before he can start his motivational speech you cry out in pain.

“Get me in the goddamn car!” You cry and he nods and gets you up before anything worse. He rushes to the hospital as quick as he can, holding your hand and trying to not crash as you hold your stomach and scream.

When he gets to the hospital, he’s still in a wetsuit. They take immediate action into getting you into a room where you are laying with your legs up waiting for a doctor. Holding Tom's hand as you cry.

“Uh sir?” The doctor walks in and looks at the man in the wetsuit. “We’re going to have to ask you to put on scrubs...helps prevent any ourside clothing germs getting on the baby...are you wearing anything under that?” She asked and he immediately started unzipping.

“Jesus tom, not here, she wants you to get changed in the bathroom.” You shake your head as you run your hands over your face. In pain but want to laugh at your worried boyfriend for how he was acting in the moment.

“Right! Right!” He quickly changes from the wetsuit into the scrubs. The doctors look at him funny but let it go as you’re clearly in pain and needing the baby to be out.

“You got this love, you’re doing so good—“ he starts again but you don’t even want to hear it.

“was this really worth two minutes! I’m getting my fucking tubes tied!” You scream at him and he flushes a deep shade of red as one of the nurses giggles.

After one more big push you heard the sound of a cry filled the room. For just a second, all the pain you felt went away as you see the body of your baby, baby boy. You both were right, a beautiful little boy.

“A boy.” Tom breathes out in awe.

“Dad you wanna come cut the cord?” He looked at you for approval and you nodded. He cut the cord with shaky hands, couldn’t focus for the life of him as he just stared at the boy. You only got to hold him for a second before he’s taken off to a bath. Tom following them before they bring him back in a bundle of blankets.

“Oh my…” you hold the beautiful boy. His little lips open just a bit to make a sound while his eyes flutter to adjust to the light. “Look at him tom.” You feel yourself cry and Tom does too.

“Wow, look at you.” He touched the boy's cheek who immediately tried to take the finger into his mouth. “You did that.” He tells you as the two of you admire it.

“We did that.” You tell him and he smiles a bit. “Although yeah, it was mostly me.” The boy stares hard at Tom, Tom who was still in just swim trunks and scrubs.

“Hey, I ate a lot with you during this pregnancy. Even had my own morning sickness.” He teased and you only laughed.

The room going silent for a moment. Hearing the little cooes of your boy as you held him. Toms finger tracing over his cheek when you finally spoke, “Caspian.”

Tom had mentioned how he liked the name for a boy, more than once. It had connections to the water and to Europe so the child would have a bit of both. You had to admit to yourself that you liked it but just wanted to stick with a more casual name. But looking at how he looked at you the moment you said that name, you knew it was the one.

“Caspian?” He repeated and you nodded.

“Caspian Holland.” You told.

He smiled as he kissed your forehead. “Holland? Just that?” He asked as well and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah just like that.” You smiled. A perfect moment in the perfect situation was interrupted by a small nurse who held a tee shirt.

“Uh sir?” The nurse looked at the two of you and both of your attentions were caught. “So unfortunately we have to ask you to wear a shirt, we got one from the lost and found for you hoping that it would fit.” The shirt read “I’m not as fun as mom” and Tom's face dropped. A proud smirk rises to your face as you look at Tom who’s flared his nostrils just a bit to show his embarrassment.

“Yeah Tom, put on the shirt.” You encouraged and he looked at you. His eyes telling you that you’re going to regret that but you can’t wait 15 years into the future to tell your son.

Sighing as he took the shirt from the poor nurse and sat back down on the chair in a huff.

“You’re never letting me live this one down are you?” Shaking your head you look back down at the boy,

“no, I don’t think we will.” You brought your dry cracked lips down to the boys forehead, you had no water within the past hour and screaming with crying seemed to make you as dead as possible. “Caspian. Caspian Holland.” He whispers again. “Thank you.” He looked at you and you furrowed your brows.

“For everything.” After months of no surfing, months of pain and aches, instead of saying anything back you looked at him and said

“sushi.” Was all you said and he furrowed his brows.

“W-what?” He questioned.

“I need sushi, please.” You sigh and he smiled. Months of being unable to eat any fish that was all you wanted in the moment.

“One California roll coming up.” He kissed your cheek and then the boy's cheek. Calling in the nurse, sending for a California roll and tuna.

Caspian was sleeping soundly in Tom's arms while you ate and rested. Everything was worth it, from the moment he stepped on a plane one summer to Hawaii he knew it was worth it for he found a family in the end.

June.

Once again the sand was squishing under your toes. Feeling each and every grain as you held your baby boy tightly bundled in blankets against your chest as you walked out to the beach. He was freshly bathed, you and Tom took turns. You were so eager the moment you were cleared to get back in the water after birth that the day the doctor cleared you for physical activity, you did it.

But tonight wasn’t you getting in the water, it was you greeting Tom and telling him to come back inside.

“Dinner is done.” You call out to him as he jogs back to the two of you. The baby boy cooing as he sees the ocean and his fathers dripping wet figure coming towards them.

“Hey, look who’s out.” He immediately leans in and kisses all over the pretty baby boy's face. “My sweet boy is so fresh and clean.”

You and Tom had argued about who he had looked more like,You or Tom. he had Tom's nose for sure and his big brown eyes that you knew were going to be trouble. If you had a hard time saying no to Tom when he batted his lashes and gave a glossy look, it was going to be impossible to say no to your beautiful boy.

“He just took a bath. But it wasn’t the ocean.” You smiled and Tom pressed a kiss to your face too.

“Mmh, did you?” He looks at the boy who was yawning in his mother’s arms. “Want to swim a bit?” He asked and you shook your head.

After birth, Tom did a lot of the work. He loved it too. He claimed you needed rest, in which you did, but you would often find him just sitting in the nursery staring at the baby boy. Telling him stories to sleep and kissing his face. He would let you surf, bathe, sleep, all while he took care of your beloved boy.

“No, I’m so tired I think if I use my legs any longer they will snap.” You give a pout and Tom immediately kisses it away.

Tom started to gather his stuff, the beach towel and the bag he normally carried and the moment he started to pack up your baby boy let out a wail.

Within the two months of his birth, you were able to identify each cry. When he was hungry it was more of a gurgle, when he was sleepy it was more strained and forced, when he craved touch it was a whimper sounding cry and then there was this. He was simply upset something did not go his way. May you or Tom stepped away for a moment, the bottle gone too early, but now it was his father packing up his stuff that makes him scream a cry that makes heads turn.

“What’s the matter bubs?” Tom pouts as he sets the stuff down and comes over to him.

Once the stuff is set down the cries settle just a bit, settle enough until tom takes him out of your arms and presses him up against his body.

Still wet from the surf, you both think the baby liked it. While Tom occupied little Caspian, you picked up the towels and his bag for him and once again the boy let out a wail cry which made you and Tom furrow your brows.

“I-I don’t know what it is. I-I changed him and I bathed him and he was perfectly fine and—“ you start to panic and as you panic you drop the stuff which calms his cries. Tom immediately took notice and grew a smile that made his heart flutter in his chest.

“(Y/n),” he stops you and you look up at him with a worried look as if you’ve done something wrong. “He wants to stay. He wants to stay on the beach.” Tom says in a calm voice and the boy was now only cooing in Tom's arms. He bounced gently but mostly cooed as his daddy smiled at him.

“H-He knows we’re leaving the beach.” You sigh and come over to the boys. Petting your sons head as he relaxes in his fathers arms.

“Like I’ve always said, just like his mama.” Tom smiled up at you and you caught his lips for a kiss. “Well…” you rub your hands on your thigh, wiping off the sand you got stuck all over your hands. “Since Caspian always gets his way, I better bring dinner out here.” You smile as you poke at the sweet boys face and Tom moves and has a serious face.

“(Y/n), no, you can’t just whip out your boob in front of—OW! I’m kidding!” You smacked his arm for the stupid comment he made that at first had you worried.

“I hate you. I’m bringing out the dinner.” You start to walk off and he smiles.

“You love us!” He shouts back.

“Just Caspian! You? Not much you. remember...you’re not as fun as mom!” You call out to him, sending him a wink and he wants to say something back but he holds his tounge.

Looking down at the baby boy he says, “when I teach you how to surf I need you to beat mums ass a few times while you’re out there. Just for her little comments.” Tom spoke to the boy and he cooes. “Atta boy.” With that he plots down on the sand towel.

Setting caspian down on the towel for just a moment so he can strip from his wetsuit and be closer to him. You come back out balancing the plates of food for you and Tom as you seat next to them and eat. Leaning your head on Toms shoulder and kissing at it.

You never knew that one competition, one amateur British boy and one shared basket of fish and chips could lead you to the best moments of your life. Could lead you to the best family you’ve ever had.

Please leave feedback! It helps me grow as a writer and lets me know what more you want to see!

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anightflower · 4 years ago

Text

Come and Find Me Chapter 4: The Andrew Curtis Case

Guys I am so sorry this took so long. On top of school kicking my ass, I had to rewrite and reedit this chapter several times until I got to one that I deemed worthy. I am going to try and post Chapter Five early for you guys if I can.

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Rape, Abuse

Masterlist

Spencer glanced around the room at all the police officers assembled. He cleared his throat.

“The Unsub is a white male in his late 20s to mid-30s. He is a man with an average build and a friendly face, someone who women would not pose as a threat.”

“Since there were no signs of forced entry, we believe he’s posing as someone who women would let into their house. Classic cases of this include maintenance men there to check up on things, someone who needs help after their car broke down, or a similar case like that.” Emily explained. “This is a man who fakes confidence, but in reality views himself as inadequate in some way, he knows he can’t fight off another man, so he chooses women who live alone and are essentially defenseless.”

“Yet, he hates that they are successful enough to support themselves or that they have any sort of power.” Morgan chimed in.

“He clearly was cheated on or had some sort of marital issue that caused him to spiral into this spree. He is a sexual sadist projecting his partner onto the women he attacks, that’s why he chokes them, watching the life drain from their eyes sparks something in him and gives him a sense of power. That is also why he rapes his victims, he loves the idea that he is all powerful and they are helpless.” Hotch explained.

Spencer swallowed, “Comparing his last four victims it seems his type is 20-30 year old females with (Y/C/H) and (Y/C/E).”

Which coincidentally looks like the love of my life. Spencer thought, repressing a shudder.

________________________________________________________________

Spencer starred in shock at the scene around him. He was just finishing up the geographical profile, when they had received a call about yet another body.

Her empty bulking eyes stared up at the ceiling, her body was beaten, cut, and bruised.

“Strangulation marks on her neck, multiple stab wounds and injuries, this looks like our unsub.” Emily resisted the urge to shudder.

“Man, whoever cheated on this guy, must have really broken him.” Morgan mused, looking around at the bloody scribblings on the wall.

Spencer knew that if they tested the blood on the wall, it would match the victims. He looked at the frames on the wall, trying to ignore the blood that seemed to coat everything. The victim had her diploma hung up and multiple pictures of her smiling with family or friends. Spencer stared hard at the name on the diploma; Adria Winston.

It scared Spencer how easily he could see you in this woman’s place. Injured, dying, pleading for him, for anyone to save you-

“Reid. Reid, are you alright?” Morgan clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder, drawing him back to the present.

Spencer shook himself out of his dazed state. “Yeah, uh I just need to step out for a second.” He said, pushing past Morgan and making his way outside Adria’s house. He pulled out his phone and dialed your number, it was late, so you would most likely be asleep, but-

You picked up on the third ring. “Hi baby, are you alright?” Spencer bit back a smile at the sleepiness in your voice.

“Not really, but I just really needed to hear your voice. How is Ohio?” Spencer asked, trying to distract himself from what he just saw. You could tell, but you played along with it.

“Not too bad, whoever designed the Google lounge has nothing on me.” You joked.

“Well, we already knew that.” Spencer smiled.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t believe some of the cool stuff I found, I’m telling you if the employees complain about these amazing comfy chairs I got for their break room, I am totally coming back and stealing all 22 of them for my apartment.” You said enthusiastically. “They're perfect for reading in Spence, I’m telling you, you would love them.”

Spencer let out a little laugh, “I’m sure they are. We will have to see if we can find some, but I don’t think 22 will fit in either of our apartments.”

“I suppose you’re right” You sighed dramatically, but then took a more serious tone of voice. “Are you alright baby?”

Spencer’s chest tightened at your worried tone of voice. “There’s a sick selfish part of me that is so glad that you aren’t here (Y/N). All of these girls look so much like you-” Spencer paused, swallowing back tears. “I just am so glad you are safe, I don’t think I could focus as well on this case if I knew you could possibly be in danger.”

“Aw Spencer, I am so sorry baby. You aren’t sick or selfish for wanting me to be safe, everyone focuses on the safety of those they love, it’s only human. I know you are going to catch this guy, you are the most brilliant man and agent I have ever met. Just don’t tell your team I said that, I don’t want a bad reputation before they even meet me.” You teased, trying to lighten his dark mood.

Spencer let out a small laugh and sniffled. “Trust me the team is going to love you. We will have to figure out when you can meet them, but I definitely want to wait until things settle down a bit here.”

There was silence on your end for a second. “Listen Spence, I can stay here a bit longer if it will help you focus, but when I come home I am taking self-defense classes and such. I want you to have a sane mind knowing that your girlfriend actually can handle herself. I honestly think it will help me keep sane too, after hearing everything about this case.”

Spencer heart skipped a beat, as much as he wanted you safe and sound, he also needed to hold you in his arms to keep his sanity. But ultimately you were the one who should lead your life, not Spencer. “I appreciate you considering me, but I want the ultimate decision to be made by you Princess, I trust your judgement and I don’t want you living your life based on my fear.”

You breath caught in your throat at the sentiment. “I love you Spencer Reid.”

Spencer could have sworn his heart stopped. The two of you hadn’t said I love you yet. Part of him wished it was in person, but just hearing you say it, meant the world to him. “I love you more (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

So help him god, Spencer would catch whoever this unsub was and put him away, so you could come home to a safer city.

________________________________________________________________

“You know what strikes me as funny?” Emily asked, looking at the crime scene photos.

The room was silent, waiting to hear what she had to say.

“Each of these unsubs reported strange gifts and letters being sent to their home. The police had thought it was nothing, but now I am thinking that maybe this could be a connection. I mean think about it, didn’t you guys notice that each victim received a gift box wrapped the exact same way?”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah they had the white box with the red bow-”

Spencer chimed in, “Red typically symbolizes love and infatuation, but in this case it was the unsub’s warning, red meant war or violence was about to come upon this victim.”

“Reid and JJ I want you to talk to the officers and get the reports these women filed for harassment, I think we are missing a connection.” Hotch ordered.

An hour or so later they had that connection.

“All of the victims received their gifts from a delivery service called ‘Special Delivery.’” JJ explained to everyone.

“Well it seems we have to pay them a visit.” Hotch said.

________________________________________________________________

Special Delivery was a small Ma and Pa store, located just a couple blocks from Ava’s coffee shop. Spencer debated on stopping in to check in with her and maybe grab the team coffee.

Spencer had quickly taken a liking to Ava, not only because he had called him your “sexy superhero boyfriend,” but because she was a reliable friend to you, one who always managed to bring a smile to your face. She reminded Spencer of a more wild Emily, in the best way possible.

Emily stopped outside the storefront window, glancing at the display of chocolates, gift baskets, and jewelry. “Why is it always the cute small places that get ruined? Can’t it be one of those big corporate offices that fuck over their employees instead?”

Spencer huffed a laugh.

As they entered the store, the bell let out a delicate twinkle. Causing a silver-streaked brunette to pop out from the back of the store. Her round face held a warm smile as she approached them.

“Hello dears! What can I do for you?” She asked as she excitedly clasped her hands together.

“Hello Mrs. Ellison, my name is SSA Prentiss and this is Dr. Reid, we had a few questions for you.” Emily said gently, flashing her badge to the woman.

The woman's smile dimmed a bit, “Oh, uh of course, is everything alright?”

“Mrs. Ellison I am sure you’ve heard of the recent tragedies-” Emily began,

“Oh yes, I’ve been keeping up with the news, it’s just dreadful that something so horrible could happen so close to home. You see these things in movies or in other places, but you just never expect them to happen right near you.” Mrs. Ellison said sorrowfully, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Mrs. Ellison, I am afraid everyone of these victims received several deliveries from your shop. Each was wrapped exactly the same, white box, red bow, does this ring any bells for you?” Spencer asked, cutting to the chase.

“Well dear, it is Valentine season, red, pink, and white are the typical go to colors.” She shrugged.

“Do you have any regulars? He would have each gift he bought wrapped the exact same way? He would seem friendly, but would be on the quieter side?” Emily asked, attempting to prod the older woman’s memory.

“I’m afraid none of that is ringing any bells dear, I am so sorry.” Mrs. Ellison said apologetically.

“Do you have any other employees? Or do you run this place all by yourself?” Spencer asked.

Mrs. Ellison, let out a small laugh, “Oh goodness me, no. I get so many orders, I could never do it by myself. I previously had three employees, Jess, Remy, and Andrew, but I had to fire Andrew when I found him stealing from our stock. It was a shame too, he was a hardworking boy, but I’m afraid he just fell apart after his wife left him.”

Emily and Spencer exchanged a quick glance. “Do you happen to know why his wife left him?” Spencer asked, his heart picking up speed.

“Oh it's not my business to share-” Mrs. Ellison hesitated.

“Please Mrs. Ellison, this could be crucial information.” Emily urged her.

Mrs. Ellison let out a sigh. “That horrible girl cheated on him. I just couldn’t understand it either, Drew was such a doting gentleman to her, it simply didn’t make sense.”

“Do you still have his contact information? His address?”

“Why of course, but you couldn’t possibly think he has anything to do with this-” Mrs. Ellison began, making her way to behind the counter to grab a binder. She looked up worried when Spencer and Emily didn’t answer right away. “Do you?” She urged.

“It’s quite possible he had nothing to do with it, we just need to follow through with every angle.” Emily quickly explained.

“Of course.” Mrs. Ellison said, but her hands slightly shook as she opened up her binder to get Andrew’s address.

________________________________________________________________

“Andrew Curtis, this is the FBI, open up.” Hotch hollered from outside the door. There was no response. Hotch looked to his team to make sure they were ready, then kicked in the door.

As the team checked different rooms, several calls of “Clear!” echoed throughout the house. Curtis was not there.

Morgan made his way to the basement and swallowed back a gag. “Hotch! You better come see this.”

Guns at the ready, Spencer, Hotch, Rossi, and Emily, made their way down to Morgan.

“What the hell.” Emily huffed as they all beheld the horrific sight before them.

It was a girl, for sure. She had the same mutilated marks as far as they could tell, but her body was decently decayed.

“He’s displaying her like a trophy.” Spencer observed. “He props her up naked and makes sure her wounds are fully on display to remind him what he did.”

“There’s more trophies over here.” Rossi said in disgust, gesturing to a shelf full of different valuables.

“He’s sick.” Morgan hissed.

“We need a med team down here to remove a body. As soon as it’s IDed we need to know and alert any next of kin.” Hotch ordered into his earpiece.

Rossi put on a glove and began to go through the other trophies for evidence. “I’ll talk to the victims families and see if any of them recognize these items.”

Morgan dialed up Garcia.

“Speak and be heard, the all-knowing goddess listens.”

“Hey baby girl, I need you to look up any missing person’s reports from around this area. The victim has (y/c/h) and (y/c/e). She fits our victimology to a t, but we need to figure out who she is.”

“I’m on it.” Garcia said.

“And Garcia,” Hotch said, stopping her before she hung up. “I need you to find a license plate for Andrew Curtis. Also check to see if he rents or owns any other property, he’s currently not at his home and it is too close to other buildings for his victims to not be heard.”

“You got it. Talk soon.” She said, hanging up.

About half an hour later Garcia got back to them. “Curtis drives a 2003 silver sedan with the license plate 637-IRT. I also found that he rents a small storage unit that’s a 20 minute drive in a more secluded part of town. I am sending the address to you guys now.”

“Thanks Garcia.” Hotch said. He turned to JJ “I need you to get an APB on Curtis. I want you to warn the public to keep an eye out for him.”

JJ nodded and rushed off with her phone. Hotch looked to the rest of the team. “Everyone else, vests on, we are heading to that storage unit.”

________________________________________________________________

“Fuck Drew, what are we going to do?” The boy asked as he looked at the screen projecting a news report on Andrew Curtis.

“Well, it might be the end for me, little brother, but I have you as my legacy. They don’t have a clue that you are even involved, so I need you to get out of here.”

“No, no, no. I am not going to leave you!” The Boy cried, tears streaming down his face.

Drew huffed a laugh. “Now, now, little bro. It isn’t the time for tears. I’ve taught you everything you need to know. You need to get your girl from that Doctor remember?”

“How am I supposed to do this without you?” The Boy asked, fear filled his voice.

“Your time will come. You have to be a man about this. You have the skills now and you have our little videos to watch. Your own little tutorial to pluck that girl right out of Dr. Reid’s hands. You need to hide those and hide them well. Promise me you won’t fuck up your chance.” Drew growled.

The Boy whimpered and Drew smacked him. “Promise me!” He yelled.

“I promise.” The Boy sobbed, grabbing at his pained cheek.

Drew’s face softened and he gave the boy a smile. “Good, now get out of here legacy and make me proud. I expect to see you on the news someday.” He winked. “You remember our code right?”

The boy nodded.

“Then this isn’t the last time we will speak to each other. Now get the fuck out of here, I already fucked with the security footage, so they won’t even know you were here.” Drew explained, pushing the boy out towards the parking lot.

The Boy’s heart broke as he rushed from his mentor, not only because he knew he would never be able to see Drew in person after this, but because he knew that he would never be able to ruin the 6th victim. The sixth whore that was tied up in the trunk of Drew’s car.

________________________________________________________________

The girl sobs were muffled by her gag. Drew pulled on her hair harder as he dragged her to the storage unit. He knew he didn’t have much time left, so he might as well let every moment count huh?

The girl’s sobs turned into terrified screams as she beheld the bloodied storage room and the various knives and devices within it.

“Shut up you stupid bitch.” He growled in her ear.

The girl whimpered something and Drew ripped away her gag.

“Please.” She begged and Drew simply laughed as he lugged her limp body towards the table in the center of the room.

“Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I have a family who cares about me-” She pleaded.

“Whores don’t have families. Whores have nothing. They just cheat and lie and move onto the next guy. Huh Madelyn?” He growled as he threw her up onto the table.

“My name isn’t Madelyn, please it’s Emily-” The girl sobbed.

“Enough of your lies Madelyn. You stupid slut. You couldn’t stay loyal could you?” Drew snarled, hitting the girl’s head hard against the table.

She sobbed harder. “My name is Emily, my name isn’t Madelyn, please it’s Emily.” She babbled.

“SHUT UP.” He said, hitting her again.

Suddenly a shout rose up from outside the storage unit door. “Andrew Curtis, this is the FBI, come out with your hands raised.”

The smile that crept across Drew’s face was wicked. He grabbed a knife and pulled Emily against him. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?” He whispered in her ear.

“Andrew Curtis, this is your last warning. We will come in armed and ready.” Hotch’s voice shouted again.

Drew remained where he was, the sick smile on his face, as tears streamed down Emily’s face.

When the door burst open and several agents poured in, he did not flinch or cower away.

“Drop the weapon.” Hotch boomed, his voice echoing in the space.

“Now, now, now, where would the fun be in that?” Drew mocked.

“Put down the weapon, Curtis and let the girl go.” Rossi ordered.

Drew’s eyes looked past all of them and fell on Spencer, he bit back a smile.

“Come any closer and I’ll slice her throat.” Drew threatened, pressing the knife harder to Emily’s throat, a few drops of crimson blossomed and crept down her neck.

“If you don’t let Miss Bloise go, then we will be forced to take action Mr. Curtis.” Rossi explained.

Drew’s hand shook, god he wanted them to come at him, but then he thought of his mentee, how lost he would be without him.

He lowered the knife and let the girl go. She ran towards one of the agents, tears mixing with the blood that ran down her neck. JJ wrapped an arm around the girl and guided her out.

Morgan rushed to Curtis, pinning him down against the floor and putting cuffs around his wrists.

Though they had caught him, Hotch felt uneasy. Curtis had given in too quickly. The greasy smile across Curtis’s face as Morgan led him away only heightened his suspicions.

________________________________________________________________

The team sat outside the interrogation room, watching as Hotch tried to get a rise out of Andrew Curtis. He and JJ had gone in; Hotch to be the intimidator, JJ to be the trigger as she looked a bit similar to the victims. So far the man had just sat in the chair, his arms crossed, silent and smirking. It had been almost an hour and they had gotten nothing out of him.

Spencer felt as though Curtis could see him through the two-way mirror.

“You know Agent,” Curtis began. “I know you’re trying to be the big bad wolf, but it’s not going to work, I’ve dealt with worse than you.”

Morgan looked about ready to kick in the door and beat the confession out of Andrew.

“Send me in, I’ll get an answer out of him” Morgan growled, cracking his knuckles.

“Unfortunately, the confession won’t stand up in court if they found out you beat the shit out of Curtis to get it” Emily smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

“The Court doesn’t have to know” Morgan argued, making Emily scoff.

“Focus kids.” Rossi ordered sternly, but Spencer could tell he was fighting back a small smile.

Hotch and JJ came out of the room. Hotch looked to Spencer, his expression grim. “He wants to talk with you.”

Spencer looked at Hotch confused, “Why me?”

“He’s ‘fascinated by you’” Hotch explained. “I know it’s not ideal and you don’t have to go in their Reid, but-”

“But, we could get the confession out of him. We have the charges for Miss Bloise, but we want to pin him for the other girls he attacked. I understand and I will do it.” Spencer said.

“I’ll stick with you Spence” JJ reassured, putting a hand on his arm. “You won’t be alone.”

Spencer nodded, sending a grateful look JJ’s way as they made their way into the interrogation room.

“Ah the elusive doctor. So glad you could join us.” Drew purred.

Spencer said nothing as he moved to sit down across from Curtis.

“-your wife left you Mr. Curtis, is that correct?” JJ asked.

“Please doll, a pretty thing like you can call me Drew” Drew said, looking JJ up and down.

Spencer’s fists clenched in anger as he felt JJ tense next to him.

“The file says she left you after she cheated on you. Did you have medical issues Mr. Curtis?” Reid asked, drawing Curtis’s attention to him. “Did you struggle to please your own wife?”

Curtis growled. “That stupid whore has nothing to do with this.”

“Ah so you couldn’t and when she left you for a man that could, you projected your anger for her onto these women. You were angry at them for being confident and independent, much like your wife who knew what she wanted.” Spencer said, sitting back in his chair with a faint smirk.

“These women were nothing but whores, willing to let men in like me. They wanted someone so badly they let a stranger into their house.” Curtis hissed.

“Mr. Curtis, you were a delivery man. They didn’t let you in, you forced your way into their homes didn’t you?”

“If a man needs a glass of water, can’t he let himself in?” Curtis purred. “They turned their backs on a predator and got what was coming to them.”

“Did you attack them in their homes?” JJ asked.

“Only to make them quiet, couldn’t have the neighbors hear them scream.” Curtis laughed and Spencer resisted the urge to choke out the man across from him.

They placed images of all of his supposed victim’s before him. “Do you recognize these women?” JJ asked, her voice harsh and cold.

Curtis looked over all of them, silent for a couple minutes. Spencer’s patience thinned. “Well?”

Curtis pointed to an image of Lila Jennings, the third victim of this case. “She screamed the loudest.” He pointed to another image. “She was a hot piece of ass, it was fun breaking her.”

“Enough.” Spencer hissed.

“In short Doctor, yes I do recognize these women. Every single one of them and no I do not regret a single one.”

Without saying another word, JJ and Spencer got up, taking the files with them. Curtis’s laughter rang out behind them as they shut the door.

________________________________________________________________

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legoshi-plz · 4 years ago

Text

Pretenses Part 3 (Louis x Reader)

Summary: Part 3. Louis is a spoiled prince and you are a clumsy maid. Prince! Louis x Canine!Dog! Reader.

Part One • Part Two

////////////////

You climbed the staircase, your arms and legs buzzing from overuse. Despite the longer than usual nap you had taken thank to Prince Louis, you still had to help cook for the Carnivores and with the knowledge you’d have to leave to attend to the Prince, you tried to cram as much cooking in as you could before you had to leave.

There were only two other Carnivores that helped cook at night and they were both older animals who couldn’t move as fast as yourself. You’d been meaning to begin training someone younger than yourself, as your elders had trained you, but no one had shown interest. Also you were still in your prime and the two older chefs weren’t going anywhere in the imminent future so it was something you hadn’t really felt pressure to make happen. It never occurred to you that you might not do it because something else got in the way. Idiot.

You reached the Prince’s study and rapted lightly on the door three times.

“I already know it’s you, YN, just come in already,” Louis snapped and you entered.

“You’re late,” he huffed, his eyes not leaving whatever it was he was studying on his desk. You couldn’t resist glancing at the clock mounted on his wall. You were five minutes early.

“What is it you wanted to see me about, my lord?”

“I’m not a lord, I’m a Prince, you imbecile,” Louis retorted before finally glancing up at you. If you didn’t know any better you might have thought there was a twinge of guilt in his eyes.

“Have a seat,” and just like that it was gone.

You sat across from him as he continued to go over whatever was spread out on his desk. You noticed he was not wearing his usual royal regalia, opting for a more casual assemble. It was still far finer than any clothes owned by a commoner of course but this was the first time you’d ever seen him dress.... comfortable, as if he could finally breathe in his clothes. Though you were sure he could probably wear a beggars clothes and still look handsome.

The Prince’s attractiveness was obvious to anyone with even slightly functioning eyesight. He was a Red Deer and they were known for their beauty. His father, the King, was also incredibly handsome. You supposed some things were genetic, though that’s about where the similarities ended from what you had seen.

During your time on the dining staff, you couldn’t help but glance from time to time at the King and you noticed he seemed almost the polar opposite of his son. He was of an enormous stature, much larger than Louis, and he possessed a deep, graveling voice, almost like that of a Carnivore. Yet he spoke softly, every time, and with compassion for his fellow royal guests. He had an aura about him that anyone would follow, the aura of a true King.

Much unlike his rude, condescending, egotistical, maniacal, and downright vile offspring.

“Here, read this. If you can, that is,” Louis pushed whatever documents he’d been studying towards you. You picked them up gently as to not ruin them.

You didn’t have the slightest idea what you were looking at. You knew how to read and write, having actually completed your time in school, unlike too many Carnivores you’d come to know, but that education had not been the best, especially for a commoner like yourself. You knew it was something about space from the drawn depiction of of celestial bodies but that’s about where your understanding ended. The text accompanying it was even worse as it was so riddled with scientific jargon, you couldn’t even make out the premise.

“I-uh, I... I can’t...”

“Don’t tell me you can’t read?” Louis asked with raised eyebrows. You felt your face heat up and your fur bristle in embarrassment. He never failed to let you know how much of an idiot he thought you were but attacking your basic education was a new form of humiliation even you weren’t prepared for.

“I can- I can read. I’m... I’m not illiterate, I swear. I just... don’t understand... that,” your ears had flattened against your head and you could feel yourself trembling slightly. Tears were welling in your eyes despite your willing them not too. Earthworms in the ground couldn’t have felt as low as you did.

Louis stood and circled around behind you. He slid the documents back into your hands then placed his own on your shoulders, rubbing them as if you were cold.

“Stop shaking, it’s alright,” he assured you, his fingers squeezing you slightly.

“I...,” Louis hesitated, as if doubting what he was about to say,“I should have worded that differently. It was not my intention to insult your intelligence. My apologies.”

His voice was soft in your ear and for the first time since you’d met him, he sounded genuinely remorseful. You nodded and attempted to swollen the lump in your throat.

One of Louis’ hands left your shoulder to wrap around your hand that held the papers to still them from shaking. He then began to explain what they meant in a low, careful voice. His face was right by your own and you could feel the fur of his face brush against yours. The alluring scent of his cologne flooded your nostrils and you felt a little dizzy. He was way too close, you couldn’t process a word he was saying despite his voice being right there in your ear.

“And so according to the stars alignment, this planet will be in our orbit tonight and visible from the night sky.” Louis finished.

“Okay....” You weren’t sure what it was he wanted from you or even why your presence was required here. Louis seemed to sense your unspoken speculation and released your hand and shoulder.

“Follow me, we won’t be able to see it here,” He said heading towards the door of his study.

You followed behind him silently as he went up staircase after staircase until the two of you finally reached a balcony near the top floor of the castle. You felt a sense of unease at being this high up and with a Prince as vile as Louis, no less! There was nothing and no one to stop him from chucking you over the balcony wall. You began to inch back towards the door.

“What are you doing? Come closer,” Louis said noticing you backing away.

“I- I can’t. I’m afraid of heights, my liege,” you said keeping your hand very firmly on the door handle. Louis approaches you, covering your hand with his own as he drew you away from the door.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Y/N. If I did, then who’d bring me my lunch?” Louis smirked at his own joke. You didn’t laugh.

He brought you to where a rather large telescope was settled. You realized that the balcony had been built to accommodate the gigantic contraption that was placed at its center. Despite how long you’d been working in the palace, you had no idea this place even existed nor that Royals took such an interest in the celestial heavens.

“And now we wait,” Louis said checking his pocket watch. You found a wall behind the telescope and slid down it so you wouldn’t have to look over the railing to the ground below. You took deep breaths to try and calm your heart rate, the cool breeze from outside helping to clear your head.

Louis sat down beside you, his side nearly resting against your own.

“Why am I here, my liege?” You asked wringing your hands in your lap.

“Louis. My name is Louis,” you glanced at the royal besides you but he had an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’m not supposed to address you as such-

“I don’t care. It doesn’t matter anyway.” Louis said and you remained quiet. He was clearly setting a trap for you after all. Such blatant disrespect of a royal would not be tolerated in any capacity and you knew it.

“Why am I here?” You asked again. He remained silent and you thought he was simply not going to answer you.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Louis sighed, looking up at the stars.

“It is?”

“For some odd reason beyond me, I actually find I quite enjoy your presence,” Louis admitted, his eyes never leaving the moonlit sky. “I don’t know what it is about you but I can’t seem to stay away.”

Out of all the possible reasons Louis could have brought you here, this undoubtedly shocked you the most. He couldn’t stay away from you? What kind of sick, twisted game was he playing at?

“I see now.... So you’re not a vile person naturally?”

“That’s still up for debate but for the most part, no I’m not,” Louis chuckled.

“So you just enjoy making my life miserable when the mood strikes?” Louis finally turned his eyes on you to see you were as far from accepting of his little confession as possible.

“You like to keep me around all the time so you have someone to pick on, your highness. Then I guess you feel guilty afterwards which is why you try to be nice again. Or let me take naps in your quarters to try and break even?” You were seething now as you stood from your seat on the ground. Louis followed after you to try and stop you, pinning you to the balcony wall by caging you in both his arms.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,”

“You’re sick is what you are,” you huffed.

“I know,”

“And cruel,”

“I know,”

“And manipulative,”

“I know, I know, I know! You think I don’t see the way you look at me? You think I don’t see the fear in your eyes? Or the disgust? I know you hate me, Y/N. You’d be an idiot not to.” Louis agonized. You refused to even look at him.

“Why can’t you just.... leave me alone? Our paths never had to cross before, they don’t have to ever cross again,” you lamented to the ground. Louis’ hands lowered to cup your face, angling your head upwards to look in his eyes. There was conflict and pain swimming in his amber orbs.

“I think we both know things can’t return to the way they were...” Louis continued to lower himself into you until he was nearly nuzzling the fur of your cheek.

“Then I quit,” you whispered, his hold on your jaw and neck bringing out your more submissive side. It was a leftover genetic predisposition that all dogs felt, some more than others, from their long history of domestication.

“I can’t let you do that either,” Louis purred and you could hear your heart beating in your ears. The crown Prince should not be this close to his maid, or any commoner for that matter. It was indecent to say the least however you knew from the Gazelles in the kitchen that he was no stranger to this indecency.

“Your highness, please. Let go of me, this isn’t right,” your pleas fell on deaf ears as Louis licked a long stripe from the fur of your neck up to your jaw which was still cupped gracefully in his hands. You felt yourself shudder at his touch. Whether Carnivore or Herbivore, such an act was one of intimacy amongst mammals regardless of class.

“Sire stop this ple-”

“Louis,” he growled into your neck. “My name is Louis. I need to hear you say it.”

“Sir-“

“Say it,” he nipped at your sensitive jugular before soothing the spot with his tongue.

“Louis, please,” you gasped, holding his forearm to steady yourself.

“Good girl,” he groaned.

And then he kissed you.

////////////

Louis has never simultaneously felt more elated nor more heinous in his entire life, until tonight that is. He’d also never forced someone to kiss him that didn’t want to be kissed until tonight either.

The second his lips captured yours, it seemed that all protest left your body as you slumped against the wall, allowing the Prince full access. Louis kissed you with a ferocity that surprised even him and you responded with hesitance.

No, not hesitance. Fear. It had to be fear.

Louis knew it was fear because the second he pulled away, you looked as if he’d just hit you. Your eyes were wide, your tail was tucked between your legs, and he could feel you trembling beneath his hands. He let you go immediately.

What on earth had he done?

In his own love-drunk haze he’d forced himself onto you and now you stood before him scared out of your mind. He’d got carried away being so near you that he’d ended up irrevocably ruining whatever frail relationship there was between you two.

He really was a monster....

He couldn’t stand to look into your huge, innocent eyes any longer. He was ashamed of himself in a way he’d never experienced until now.

“Y-you’re dismissed,” he uttered softly, stepping back. Your already shocked eyes turned impossibly larger.

“Sir, I-”

“Didn’t you hear me? Get out of my sight,” Louis bellowed and you hastily scampered back inside the palace, leaving him alone on the balcony with his thoughts.

His hands were shaking and his ears were burning. Despite the uneasy settling of guilt in his gut, he also couldn’t deny the butterflies that resided there as well. He had kissed you. Your lips were even softer than he imagined in his many, many daydreams of you. The way your fur felt beneath his fingertips, so soft and luxurious. Despite the less than ideal circumstances, he couldn’t deny the elation he felt at being near you, getting to actually touch you. It was intoxicating, invigorating, and..... completely inappropriate.

I was unaware I raised such a cruel child...

His father’s words suddenly haunted him. He had to save himself from this insatiable desire for you before it consumed him completely.

You would never be his and he had to accept that.

///////

The next morning you found yourself taking Louis his breakfast with a lump in your throat. You were nervous and overthinking things as usual. You had run through every possible scenario in your head for how things might go when the two of you saw each other again and none of them were pleasant.

Due to the Prince’s torment, you had never actually formed an opinion about him other that outward disdain. You hadn’t even considered a relationship that was more.... complex than that of a simple maid and her employer. Of course he slept around with Gazelles (and probably other species of staff as well) but that was hardly what you would deem scandalous. He was a young Herbivore man, a stag no less. He had needs and it wasn’t surprising he sought to quench said needs with the beautiful, graceful Herbivore staff.

You on the other hand? You were a dog and not one you considered especially pretty. As friendly and generally well liked as dogs were amongst other Carnivore species, that never really cultivated into anything beyond camaraderie. Dogs, especially domesticated dogs, were usually only desired by other domesticated animals. Other animals, especially Carnivores, saw domestication as a form of betrayal to your own kind. In today’s society, it wasn’t as heavily prevalent but the stigma still lingered, especially when it came to the process of mating.

You didn’t see yourself as a very attractive Dog, but you were a hard worker and a great cook. You’d always believed you’d eventually find a mate, even if just for those qualities alone which were ideal for Canine. Eventually you’d come across a willing Canine participant, maybe even one who wasn’t domesticated if you really had to, and settle down, have his pups, and live out your life quietly. Romance or love were factors you never even actually considered, you would have been grateful to just find a mate who wasn’t too rough or abusive. And the thought of even entertaining anything with someone who wasn’t a Carnivore never crossed your mind.

But now Louis was forcing it to cross your mind over and over and over again. Your mind kept going back to how it felt to be in his arms. You’d never been held like that, never been kissed like that. It was so full of passion that your body buzzed in excitement thinking about it even now. Excitement and anxiety that is.

You finally neared Louis’ chambers, knocking and entering precariously. And he wasn’t even there. You thought about using this as an excuse to avoid him but thought better of it. You had a job to do and you needed to do it.

You found him in the place you knew he’d always be if not his chambers: his study. As you entered, he blatantly ignored you until finally you spoke up.

“S-sir where would you like me to set your breakfast?” You squeaked out after the elongated stretch of silence. He waved his hand in annoyance at the end of his huge desk, his eyes never even meeting your own. You set down the food and waited in your normal position by his desk.

“Get out,” he snarled and you left along with any hope for answers about his bizarre behavior the night before.

/////////

Things proceeded in that same fashion for weeks. He would ignore you now as if you were less significant than dirt. He couldn’t even be bothered to berate you as he did before, you simply didn’t exist to him other than to dismiss you. He stopped being in your presence in any capacity: no more naps in his chambers, no more staying to accompany him while he ate, and definitely no more late night sessions in his study or on balconies.

A part of you felt guilt at his sudden austerity. You were a Carnivore after all, what if he believed that you had come on to him, that you had been trying to seduce him in this situation. Thinking back, the events of that night could have easily been spun to look as if the whole thing had been of your own fruition. Maybe it was. Maybe you had crossed a line with the deer that you could have prevented. You allowed yourself to get way too comfortable in the presence of a royal, it had backfired miserably and now you had no one to blame but yourself.

You were in the kitchens, where you’d been spending an almost abnormal amount of time lately due to being iced out by the Prince, about to start on his lunch when one of the Gazelles stopped you.

“There’s no need, Pup. The Royal guests arrived this morning, a whole three days earlier than expected,” She putted. You nodded in understanding and went over to help her mince carrots.

“I hear she’s back, and for good this time,” Another Gazelle quipped. There were groans of disgust from the rest of the station.

“Who’s she?” One of the younger, newer Gazelles asked. She was one of the few kitchen staff that actually arrived after you.

“The Prince’s bethrothed. Some princess from the small Kingdom right to the north of us. She’s a stone cold bitch, no offense Pup.” The same Gazelle from earlier glanced down at you.

“None taken,” you answered, too absorbed in the knowledge you were just given. The Prince has a fiancée? The news should have been less shocking to you, it was natural for Royals to enter arranged marriages but you hadn’t stopped to really contemplate this option for Louis.

“Yeah, last year when she came to stay she-” the conversation stopped altogether when suddenly a Grey Wolf entered the kitchen. He was enormous in every facet. He wore the metal cast of a knight however the crest was clearly from a different Kingdom. The Gazelles all scampered to the other side of the room, their fight or flight instincts kicking in.

“You’re not allowed in here!” One of them shrieked.

“Sorry, I was ordered to come here and I wasn’t sure if I sho-”

“Y/N! Get him out of here NOW!” One of the Gazelles behind you pushed you forward in a panic. Oh so now they suddenly know your name?

“Please, sir, if you’ll follow me, I can get you squared away,” you said offering your arm to him gently. Usually it was customary in such tense scenes for one Canine to grab another Canine’s tail to deescalate the situation however this was a wolf and from a different Kingdom. Even you weren’t that careless.

He took your arm and you led him outside where most Carnivores worked during the day.

“So you’re from the neighboring kingdom?” You asked as the two of you walked.

“Y-Yes! I am the royal guard for the Princess.” To be a guard, he sure had a gentle aura around him. His size and stature was intimidating initially but his voice was a big giveaway. He also hid his fangs and natural growl when speaking, something uncommon for Carnivores who were amongst their own kind. Then again you were a domestic dog, not a wolf. He probably did not consider you to be one of his kind.

“Is this your first time at the palace or have you accompanied the Princess before?”

“First time. Is it that obvious I’m a little new to this?” He grimaced and you noticed his eyes. They were incredibly handsome, his entire face actually. But they weren’t the eyes of a Grey Wolf, much too sharp and precise. You had a feeling there was more to this Wolf that what he was showing.

“Not at all. I’m Y/N, by the way,” You offered with a smile.

“Legoshi.”

#beastars #beastars louis #beastars louis x reader #louis x reader #louis x you #louis

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years ago

Text

Til Death Do Us Part (A Light Fingers AU)

A/N: I’ve had flash-images of Elena and Diego’s second wedding in my head since before I wrote the first one. I wrote part of this up back in October, but never finished it because “it’s not going to be what happens, so what’s the point?” But now I’ve decided the point is because it makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside, so I made a few tweaks and finished it off. If anyone’s interested in their first dance song it’s this one. Because I choose to live in a fantasy wonderland and not overanalyze any lyrics. Rating: G. Other than a few swears, this one is nothing but wholesome fluffiness. Word Count: 3294 (oops, that got away from me) Cross-posted to AO3.

Diego fidgeted nervously, buttoning and unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, not wanting to put on the suit jacket until the last possible moment for fear of sweating through it.

He started to pace the small room. Duncan picked his head up from the floor where he’d sprawled and whined, watching him. Diego leaned down to scratch him, ruffling his ears.

There was a knock on the door. He froze.

“Diego,” his mother’s voice called softly. “They wanted me to tell you they’re ready for you.”

He slid his arms one at a time into the smooth black sleeves, hands shaking. With a white-knuckled grip on the knob, he opened the door. Grace’s smile being the first thing he saw made him feel instantly calmer, though for once in his life, it didn’t completely quell his jitters.

“Oh Diego,” she said, touch cool as she stroked his cheek lovingly. “I’m so happy for you. And you look so handsome.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he said, smiling. “You should go find your seat.”

His siblings all smiled brightly at him as he walked toward them – except Five who still wore a much more peaceful and pleasant expression than his usual scowl – all resplendent in black and azure. Klaus flashed him a thumbs up. He turned and took his place, eyes fixed on the door.

“Nervous bro?” Klaus leaned in to whisper.

“No,” he lied with a chuckle. “I mean, we already did this once.”

“It’s still not too late to run.” Klaus gestured with his head toward the small door behind the altar.

Slowly, like a rolling wave, the assembled crowd turned and stood.

“Not a chance.”

Before his brother could say anything else, the music swelled and the doors creaked open one last time, and the rest of the world fell away until only Elena remained.

Her blonde curls were swept back from her face on one side, pinned in place by a simple comb and a posy of forget-me-nots, forget-me-nots that matched the ones in her hand mixed with the white carnations and roses and broad green ferns. Her long white gown clung to all of those wonderful curves that he loved so much before flaring out at her waist like a shining lace-capped cloud. She had chosen to forego a veil (or the “jaunty little top hat” she had joked about), so as she drew closer, he could see tears sparkling in her hazel eyes, joyful ones based on the dazzling smile on her wine-red lips, and he felt thankful that he wasn’t the only one feeling so much emotion.

As they reached the front of the hall, Daniel turned to look at her instead of standing beside and studied her face intently for a moment. Then he patted her hand lightly and turned back, smiling broadly, handing her up the steps and taking his place to her left.

Diego was sure the entire room could hear the heart beating out of his chest.

“Hey there stranger,” Elena mouthed, lacing her fingers through his.

He smiled at her, knees weak.

“Hi,” he murmured.

“Dearly beloved we are gathered here today…” the justice began, and Diego felt his heart leap into his throat. Hearing those words made it all seem so much more real. The rest of the words seemed a hazy buzz, he was too focused on her, on the way she looked, the way she smelled, the smile on her face, that perfect moment.

“…if anyone here can show cause why these two people should not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace…”

Elena glared out at the crowd, and Diego couldn’t help but grin. It had been hard enough to get here, neither of them was going to really allow anyone to object, not without a fight. No one spoke and the officiant quickly moved on, and before he knew it, they were at the vows. Suddenly, nerves twisted his stomach and found himself forcing steadying breaths, just hoping he could get through a simple sentence without a stutter.

“Do you, Elena Pryce, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, honor and obey, til death do you part?”

“No,” she said bluntly with a shrug as the gathered audience gasped. “We talked about this. I mean I’m totally here for the whole love and cherish, share and support deal. Honor’s fine even, for the most part. But the ‘obey’ thing is some selfish buuullshiiit and I’m not doing that.”

“If anything, he’s probably the one obeying her,” Luther muttered, causing Klaus to giggle at his brother’s accidental innuendo and Elena to flash them a wink.

“But I do. I promise the rest of it. And more. My heart is yours, my soul is yours. We’re equals. Partners. No matter what. Until the end of the world, and probably beyond. I know I fucked that up the last time around, but I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’m in this, one hundred percent. I love you.”

Several of the audience gasped, scandalized that she had sworn. He grinned at her, rolling his eyes fondly.

The officiant stood, gaping, for a moment, and Diego turned to him with a half-shrug, as if to say ‘we did talk vows ahead of time, you knew this was coming.’

“Um. Right then...do you, Diego Hargreeves, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, honor, til death do you part?”

Elena raised her eyebrows at the absent word in his version of the vow.

“I do,” his words were slow, and she squeezed his fingers comfortingly. “I promise everything, and more, that I promised you the first time around, Elena. To see you as an equal and a partner, to take your needs and wants into every consideration, to support you and love you even when I don’t understand you. No matter what we’re going through or how things are between us, I’ll be there. Apocalypses couldn’t keep us apart.”

Klaus sniffled dramatically from behind him; one of the bridesmaids tossed a handkerchief over their heads to him and he hopped in the air to catch it. The officiant scowled at the antics. Diego and Elena just smiled.

“If we could now have the rings?” the officiant asked.

Luther stepped forward, pulling the two little velvet boxes out of his pocket, nearly dropping them in his fumble to deliver them, completely unsure anymore which was which.

“He’s going to quit before we’re through,” Elena mouthed, trying not to giggle at the officiant’s increasing annoyance.

“We’re almost there, I think he can make it,” Diego joked back.

“Repeat after me. With this ring, I, Diego Hargreeves,” the officiant started.

“Seal my promise, binding me to my word and vow. Let it be a physical token of all that I am and all I give to you. I now take thee, Elena Pryce, as my wife and the love of my life.” He finished, adding in the last bit as he slipped the familiar silver band back onto her finger where it belonged.

Tears welled up in her eyes again and she tried to surreptitiously brush them away before anyone noticed, and this time it was his turn to squeeze her fingers gently.

“And now you,” the officiant gestured to her. “Repeat after me…”

“With this ring, I, Elena Pryce, seal my promise, binding me to my word and vow. Let it be a physical token of all that I am and all I give to you. I now take thee, Diego Hargreeves,” she felt herself choking up, struggling to get the words out around everything she was feeling, “as my husband, again.”

Slowly, with shaking hands, she slid his ring onto his finger, and it was all he could do to wait for his cue of “you may now kiss the bride” before he pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. Her arms circled his neck as his wrapped tightly around her waist, and for not the first time that day, the rest of the world disappeared. He’d never bothered to try to count how many times they’d kissed, but this was the most perfect one, he was sure of it. He felt like the entire world was in his arms, and he never wanted it to end.

Someone cleared their throat, and the pair slowly separated, lingering as if there was some magnetic pull keeping them together. When they finally turned to the crowd, neither of them could stop grinning, faces wide and bright.

“Shall we?” he leaned in to whisper before offering her an arm.

“I think we shall, husband,” she answered, hooking her hand through. “After all, the snacks wait for no man.”

He laughed, head thrown back in delight as they led the processional out of the hall and across the lawn to the tent where the reception was being held.

Toward the end of dinner, Klaus stood up from his seat dramatically, holding his champagne flute aloft and tapping it with his fork.

“As the Best Man, I’ve decided, it’s probably time for my speech,” he called, voice carrying through the tent without need for amplification.

“Please tell me you cleared his speech ahead of time,” Diego muttered into Elena’s ear as they both watched his brother with wide eyes.

“He’s your best man,” she hissed back. “Besides, it’s Klaus. There’s no way he’d stick to a script even if he’d bothered with one.”

“Now, I’ve known Diego longer because he’s my brother, but I’ve known both halves of the happy couple for most of our lives. I’m sad it wasn’t me that introduced them, honestly. They just had to go and meet by random chance, without me.” He struck a dramatic pout for a moment before continuing. “I don’t know how they do it. Elena’s lovely, flawless, but Diego. Impossible to live with. So broody and stubborn. And the knives. Raise your hands if you think he’s brought at least one to his own wedding?”

Again he paused, and this time, hands went up all around the tent, probably at least half the attendees either agreeing or playing along with the joke, including, much to Diego’s shock and betrayal, Elena. Klaus caught onto it, and her grin, immediately and pointed.

“I’m taking that as he definitely has one, and I don’t want to know what you’re planning for it. Keep your wedding night shenanigans private.”

He threw a mock scolding glare, before he grew serious.

“You two are so good for each other, and you deserve this happiness. You’ve been through so much shit — am I allowed to say shit? Who am I kidding, her vows contained the words ‘fucked up’? — both together and apart. And no one should have to earn a happy ending, you should just automatically get one, but you two...definitely have. And if anyone ever ties to mess that up, I’ll...probably just let Five handle it actually. He’s so bored these days now that he’s retired from the apocalypse and assassination businesses. I love you both.”

He swept his arm outward, nearly splashing the champagne onto his aforementioned brother’s head. “To the bride and groom and happily ever after!”

The crowd cheered, raising their glasses and voices in answer.

“That was surprisingly heartfelt,” Elena whispered, and Diego nodded.

“Five’s still probably going to smother him with a pillow for that ending though.”

“Not our problem.” She laughed. Diego’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he joined her, heart swelling. He could listen to that sound forever.

As the crowd settled and Klaus retook his seat, Daniel stood.

“I suppose I should follow that then, as the bride’s Man of Honor, and as her brother,” he chuckled. “But I’m not sure how I can compete. That was...quite a speech. Still, it can't hurt to try I suppose.”

He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“My little sister is a pain in the ass. Stubborn, reckless, impulsive, short-tempered. But underneath that is a heart of gold. I have never known anyone who cares so much. Until I met Diego. I don’t think there could be a more perfect match than the two of them. There’s really nothing else to say. They’re cut from the same cloth, exactly alike and clearly meant for one another. I’m not usually one to credit fate, but these two might make a believer out of me. I have never seen Elena look like that, glowing with happiness like she does when she’s with him. And that alone is enough for me. To bless this marriage, and their lives together. To wish them, as Klaus did, a happily ever after.” He raised his glass in salute. “Elena and Diego!”

Elena blushed as the crowd once again cheered, ducking her head to bury it against the crook of Diego’s neck. Daniel’s speech left her full of emotion that she was almost embarrassed to show. He turned his head to kiss her, letting his lips linger on her hair for a moment.

Before long, it was time for the official first dance, and Diego felt nervous again. He had taken ballroom lessons as a child, and they had practiced together, not planning anything fancy, but his legs felt leaden as he walked to the center of the open space they’d reserved for dancing. He didn’t even care about himself, just worried that he would embarrass Elena somehow, or ruin things. He tried to squash down the feeling, knowing it was lingering self-hate from the way he was raised, but he couldn’t.

As the first humming cords of the song played, Elena walked through the parted crowd to join him. Their hands fit naturally together and he wrapped his other arm around her waist, holding her close. She rested her forehead against his as they swayed, and he felt sure for a moment that his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

“How are you doing?” she asked, a feather-light whisper.

The entire day had been a whirlwind, never stopping for a moment to give him time to process it all. And part of him was glad of it, sure that he’d be overwhelmed and exhausted if he did. But of course, here she was, checking in with him. And he could only guess that she was in much the same boat. Neither of them were exactly the most gregarious of people, and there were so many people and so much being asked of them.

“I’m fine,” he lied, knowing she’d pick up on his true meaning anyway, she knew him too well not to.

“Me too,” she murmured.

He leaned in a little further, nuzzling his nose against hers.

“We can bail.”

“On our own wedding?”

“If you want to.”

She chuckled, her eyes sparkling, head shaking just slightly.

They continued to spin around the floor, heedless of the eyes on them. He became aware that she was singing, soft and under her breath, eyes locked with his as if trying to bore the words into him with her gaze. Time seemed to be slowed down as they danced. Softly he brushed his lips against hers, the pair of them sinking into the kiss like they were falling.

She would happily die here in his arms, kissing him like this, she thought, her final moment trapped in such perfection, preserved like amber. She had no need of air or space or anything else but him.

Dimly the sound of applause tickled her awareness. Reluctantly she drew away, her eyes closed a moment longer before they fluttered open to meet his warm gaze.

“I love you,” he whispered for possibly the hundredth time that day alone. But she could never tire of hearing it, or saying it right back.

An hour later, she collapsed into a chair, leaning heavily against his side, after being dragged and paraded about the dancefloor by Klaus for several songs, and Amelia for several more without stopping. Meanwhile, he had been cutting a rug of his own, but managed to detangle himself sooner to take a break.

“How serious were you about cutting and running?” she asked, trying to catch her breath.

“Vanya moved a car as close as possible for us while we were serving the cake,” he replied casually, pouring a glass of icy water for her.

“Have I mentioned lately that you’re perfect?” she joked, taking a grateful sip. “I’m thinking I chuck these flowers so everyone’s nice and distracted and we make a break for it.”

“Not as perfect as you are.”

“Lies.” She stuck her tongue out at him with a giggle.

With a sigh, she dragged herself back to her feet, reluctant to leave him, again, feeling like they’d been separated by every ritual of a wedding and whim of their guests, even when they managed a dance together or a moment to sit side by side and hand in hand. His fingers lingered on her wrist, brushing against her skin as she stepped away, not holding her back but coaxing her to return to him.

Rather than raise her own voice, she shook the flowers in Allison’s direction, letting her claim a microphone from the band and make the call for all the interested single people to gather around. Realizing she was shorter than a good percentage of the crowd, she pulled over a chair, surprised to find Luther offering her a hand to climb up onto it.

“Alright, here it goes,” she called over her shoulder at the crowd. “Hope this doesn’t take any eyes out!”

The gathered group chuckled, though she was pretty sure she heard several people shuffle out and away from the likely throw-zone. She took a deep breath and several practice swings of her arms before finally letting the bouquet go, curving a graceful arc over her head, straight into Klaus’s arms.

“Hah!” he crowed, making her giggle and nearly fall from the chair.

Luckily, a firm, gentle arm caught her, helping her back to the ground safely, and she looked over to see Grace smiling at her.

“You and Diego should get going,” her melodic voice was nearly hypnotic in its comforting. “Klaus will keep their attention for a few minutes.”

“How did you…” she trailed off, puzzled by Grace’s seeming omniscience.

“Diego’s always been a little shy,” Grace explained, eyes soft and fond. “And I heard him ask Vanya about the car. It wasn’t hard to guess.”

Suddenly, Elena found herself being pulled into a tight hug.

“Welcome to the family, dear. I’m so happy for you two.”

After a split second of hesitation, mostly as she tried to process the strange emotion she was feeling, she returned the hug fiercely.

“Th-thanks,” she whispered, fighting back more tears. “You have no idea what that means.”

“Now go, and enjoy your honeymoon.” Grace stepped back, ushering Elena away as Klaus continued to brag and celebrate behind them, offering to let practically anyone in the crowd be the other half of ‘the next greatest newlyweds.’

Diego squeezed tightly, grinning, as she slipped her hand into his.

“Powers or no?” he asked.

“Where’s the fun in cheating?” she teased, answering his squeeze with her own and casting a glance behind her. “Now or never, let’s go.”

The two of them were laughing as they took off running, out of the tent, across the lawn, and into the night.

#definitely put more effort into planning this wedding than any event of my actual life #I had to cut the brother-sister dance (replacement for father-daughter) because it made me sad #and this is supposed to be nothin but fluff #cute romantic domestic fluff #Elena Pryce x Diego Hargreeves #Light Fingers #big Wedding AU #I'm sad that I couldn't find a way to incorporate Five into the wedding more #but I imagine him just being a little grumpy and awkward in the corner anyway #editing's for losers. I'll do it later

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anemonenemerosa · 4 years ago

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Hello hello,

here we go. Thank you for staying with me and thank you @lumosinlove for creating this world =)

This is still dark (but we’re getting a bit better) so please stay safe.

Chapter 10

They stopped in front of a big apartment-building, windows mostly dark, it was almost one in the morning. There was no doorman, no entry hall to the building, just a corridor leading to stairs and a concerningly dingy lift. Ouais, enfin… maybe I pay with my kidneys for this, after all.

The door to the flat opened, Regulus was pushed in and all but froze. He had never seen such a place.

There was no entrance hall in here either, the front door directly opened into a small living room with an open kitchen and a dinner table shoved into a corner, half hidden behind an overloaded laundry rack.

The windowsills were crammed with pot-plants in several states of... health? survival? decay? Books and knickknacks were messily shoved into the tall but sloping shelves lining the walls, which were painted in a soft warm yellow, making the room look sunny and warm, even in the middle of the night.

Nothing, not even the chairs or precariously crooked shelves seemed to belong to the same set of furniture. And was one of the table-legs different from the others?

It was... all over the place, really.

The worn maroon rug in the living area clashed horribly with the big, ugly purple corduroy couch and the mismatched and multicoloured throw pillows.

Posters of 80's movies -Regulus recognised Ghost Busters and Back to the Future- and lots of unframed photographs almost covered the wall behind the couch.

On the far wall were three doors, one closed, one revealing bits of a very messy bedroom, the other ajar, sporting a poster of a rather ancient wooden privy... What. The. Hell.

Regulus did not know what to make of this. He somehow loved it instantly while simultaneously cringing over all the chaos and all the stuff crammed in here. His, stylistically uninspired, mother would probably die of shock at the view and somehow that made the place a little more endearing to him.

However, he always thought of himself as tidy and some part of him died just a bit at the sight of the mismatched socks and shirts littering the part of the bedroom-floor he could see. This place, starkly contrasting the house he grew up in was bursting with life, messy and welcoming instead of an assembly of model rooms resembling what was shown in some posh interior-design magazine. This is what a home looks like, Regulus decided.

He allowed himself to be ushered further inside.

"Leave you shoes here please and put your coat..." Regulus turned around as the sentence did not continue and saw Ben looking at the overflowing coatrack behind the door.

"...Put your coat somewhere you will find it again" he concluded, nodding to himself.

Mateo already went past them into the kitchen and dived headfirst into the fridge. "We have some left-over Minestrone from yesterday, if you want, Reg."

Regulus turned, having disposed of his coat on one of the chairs. As he didn't answer for long enough to be considered impolite, Mateo lifted his head from the fridge, noticing Regulus blank stare

"Is it OK, if we call you Reg? Regulus sounds so stiff..." This warm, infuriatingly disarming, smile. Regulus could only nod.

These people rendered him speechless at a disturbing rate. Usually, he chose not to speak but with them, he often couldn't.

The only one who had ever called him Reg was Sirius and even he stopped that years ago. Could he really be Reg again? Was he allowed to? No, a malicious voice echoed through his head. You do not deserve that comfort. Remember what you did. Regulus felt sick.

"Soooo... Minestrone?" – "I am not hungry, but thank you" Regulus looked at Mateo, hoping he would not call him Reg, regretting his thoughtless agreement.

"When’s the last time you eaten?" Ben asked as he came from the Bedroom in striped Pyjama-bottoms and an old shirt. Regulus tried to remember if he had had lunch today. Not good.

"If you need to think about it, it is too long ago. You eat." The man stated as Mateo chuckled and put a pot on the stove.

"Do never deny again that you are a freaking mother hen", he joked while walking into the bedroom, probably to change, too.

Regulus hovered in the room, wary and utterly confused. He struggled to maintain a safe distance, still trying to fathom what's going on and why these strangers were more welcoming and affectionate than his family ever been.

A quiet but reckless voice in his mind - very different from the sneer that chimed up just a minute ago and sounding suspiciously similar to a younger Sirius- reminded him that he fucked up already and that he might as well go and enjoy his time while the universe and/or his mother were probably already in preparation to take him down.

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

A while later he was seated on the ugly, lumpy couch, nursing a bowl of minestrone. He was clad in a much too small shirt ("this is the biggest shirt we have, you are just a giant") and borrowed underwear (his blood-stained sweatpants were soaking in the sink along with his, also bloody, shirt) and wrapped in a baby blue blanket with pink chickens on it. Why does such an item even exist?

The TV provided mindless background-noise while Ben and Mateo chattered along about anything and everything. Regulus just sat there in silence and listened intently. He never met people who would just go on and lay out their life in front of a person they just met. Let alone a person they found bleeding in the shower, mid-meltdown... Maybe their life history hinted on why they were so careless with private information.

And they really were. They told him everything and Regulus was confident he could write their memoirs by now.

Apparently, Mateo grew up in Manaus, Brazil So, it was Portuguese, not Spanish. ("That's where Rio Negro and Rio Solimões meet to form the Amazonas" The more you know...) He came to the US to study medicine on a scholarship, is in the last weeks of his training and only stays in Slytherin because-

"One cannot choose their training hospitals on that scholarship. No offense, mate." None taken.

They recounted how they met almost five years ago at an airport. That, after spending eight hours waiting for their delayed flight, they were joined at the hip. "Metaphorically and literally." Regulus went bright red at the innuendo while Ben patted his back sympathetically, shaking with suppressed laughter. He and Mateo were huddled up together in a yellow blanket with... Flamingos? Where did they even get these bird-themed things?

Ben had a sister, Josephine, who stayed here during semester breaks ("But do call her Jo or she will end you.") After Regulus gave a pointed look to the closed door, he was informed that he did not need to worry about their noise as she slept like the dead and even overslept a fire alarm in the building last summer.

Jo was 18, like Regulus but already in her Sophomore at Boston University as she skipped a year in middle school. "Got herself a scholarship and does computer-sciences, the insufferable nerd and know-it-all."

"She's really great, Reg. Ben is just her brother and thus, bound to think she’s annoying." Mateo interrupted Bens speech about his sister.

Regulus allowed himself a minute of going over the relationship with his own brother. Sirius was annoying. Very annoying, to be exact. But if anyone except him had called him out in the past, Regulus remembered feeling a little surge of protection against the git he was related to... maybe this was a siblings-thing.

He focused back on the conversation in front of him, fascinated by the insight of other people’s relations and upbringing.

The siblings grew up in Bristol, Great Britain, and moved to New York when Ben was seventeen and Jo ten but he did not elaborate on why they came here. That’s why I couldn’t place the accent.

Ben had studied Art History at NYU and actually worked at the Art Gallery in the city-centre. Cleaning the rink in the evenings was his means to save money for a tattoo shop he wanted to open in Boston, where they would move, come February, for Mateo’s new job.

He got informed that a note has been shoved under Jos door, announcing his presence, a spare toothbrush was presented and then, at nearly half past two in the morning, he is left for the night with a hug (!) from both of them. How touchy they are.

Regulus was not cuddly, never had been.

Really? You loved to snuggle up with Sirius in bed. The voice of reckless young Sirius supplied unhelpfully. This whole situation was completely surreal but also comfortingly normal.

This is a dream or, more likely, a godamn fever-trip. C’est pourri! This is shit! Regulus sighed.

These people were mad... hell, they didn't even know him. Yet, they took him in, fed him (very good) soup and freaking hugged him good night. They probably even stayed awake that long, filling the air with their complete life-story to keep him from feeling lonely... Allez savoir pourquoi! God knows why!

Reckless young Sirius suggested again to just roll with it and Regulus began to wonder whether he, instead of them, had gone mad.

This life he had a short glimpse into, this night was not real for him. He couldn't have that, considering the family he was born into and his obligation to live up to their expectations. Not to mention that he absolutely did not deserve being cared for after he de facto kicked his brother in the face ruined and his career.

The tiny voice piped up again, but Regulus silenced it with an exasperated groan. Yep, mad.

He surely would not sleep here on this odd couch. He would sit here, mull over all the shit that happened in just this one day, wait for them to wake up to thank them appropriately, return to the Malfoys and sleep there for a week to recompose himself.

#the spare #regulus black #oc's #Sweater Weather #lumosinlove

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whitehotharlots · 6 years ago

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Liberal cruelty has consquences

This semester is winding down. As I am desperate to avoid grading student papers, I’ve spent the morning reading longish-form online articles. I just came across one that I feel very conflicted about. The online reaction to it as been troubling. So I don’t know if I have anything particularly coherent to say, but I’d like to talk about it.

The anonymously written piece is titled “What Happened After My 13-Year-Old Son Joined the Alt Right.” It documents a young man’s journey from a garden variety, liberal-leaning goon to a frothing neo nazi mutant.

The piece is understandably sympathetic, seeing as it was written by the boy’s parent. The writer’s whiny and heavy handed tone caused me, and most of my e-pals, to dismiss it. If anything, the essay showcases an immense failure of parenting. If my child were to ask me to take him or her to a “Traditional American Culture” rally, I would slap the everloving shit of them. Lord knows how many times the kid’s parents had dropped the ball before it ever got to that point.

But then I re-read the start of the article, in which the parent identifies the trigger point for their son’s downward slide:

One morning during first period, a male friend of Sam’s mentioned a meme whose suggestive name was an inside joke between the two of them. Sam laughed. A girl at the table overheard their private conversation, misconstrued it as a sexual reference, and reported it as sexual harassment. Sam’s guidance counselor pulled him out of his next class and accused him of “breaking the law.” Before long, he was in the office of a male administrator who informed him that the exchange was “illegal,” hinted that the police were coming, and delivered him into the custody of the school’s resource officer. At the administrator’s instruction, that man ushered Sam into an empty room, handed him a blank sheet of paper, and instructed him to write a “statement of guilt.”

No one called me as this unfolded, even though Sam cried for about six hours straight as staff members parked him in vacant offices to keep him away from other students. When he stepped off the bus that afternoon and I asked why his eyes were so swollen, he informed me that he would probably be suspended, but possibly also expelled and arrested.

If Kafka were a middle-schooler today, this is the nightmare novel he would have written.

At a meeting two days later with my husband, Sam, and me, the administrator piled more accusations on top of the harassment charge—even implying, with undisguised hostility, that Sam and his friend were gay. He waved in front of us a statement from the girl at the table and insisted that Sam would need to defend himself against her claims if he wanted to prove his innocence. But the administrator refused to reveal the particulars of the complaint (he had also blacked out identifying details, FBI-style) and then hid the paperwork under a book. He declared that it was his primary duty, as a school official and as a father of daughters, to believe and to protect the girls under his care.

Eck… who edited this? It would have worked so much better without a fucking Kafka reference.

So, maybe it was the tone. I dunno. But most readers seem to regard this section as exaggerated, possibly fabricated. The takeaway was “boo hoo, the nazi kid got punished for sexually harassing a girl.” Heck: If a reader is truly dedicated to the #BelieveAllWomen mantra, then this description doesn’t warrant sympathy even if it’s entirely true. The kid said something that upset the girl. It wasn’t directed to her and it wasn’t about her. But still, he upset her, and she’s a girl, so he is bad and deserved whatever punishment was doled out to him.

And this got me thinking about my experiences in high school, as a student in the late 90s and a teacher in the mid-aughts. Administrators seemed to always be adopting some or other policy of harsh punishment for bad behavior: zero tolerance toward weapons, drugs, hats, disrespectful posture, electronic devices, swearing, Simpsons t-shirts, and mentally unhygenic reading materials. During dances and social gatherings, my middle school allowed students to bring in CDs from home. That was a decent policy, but anyone who attempted to play a “hip hop” track would receive an immediate suspension for “endorsing violence,” regardless of the track’s lyrical content. My high school adopted a firm anti-bullying policy, but once a boy came to school wearing a gothic dress as some kind of vague transgressive statement, and two separate male teachers called him a fag--out in the open, in front of everybody, as part of the official business of teaching.

Once, in 8th grade, two kids were caught taking over-the-counter caffeine pills. They didn’t get sick or anything; a girl saw them and she narced. They were arrested by the school resource officer, taken in a cop car to the hospital to have their stomachs pumped, and then summarily expelled, their young lives effectively ruined over 50 milligrams of a safe and legal stimulant. At an emergency assembly held the next day, the frog-faced principal croaked out a dire warning that the use of such drugs was strictly forbidden and we would all be subjected to the same fate, should we attempt to sneak in any No Doz. As he issued his stern warning, he slurped gluttonously from a 22-ounce mug of gas station coffee.

The point is, zero tolerance never really means zero tolerance. Rules are always--always, literally always, without exception in the whole of human history--enforced arbitrarily. Harsh policies rarely make anyone safer. They are employed instead to further humiliate and brutalize those who have already been rejected by the system. In my last two paragraphs, I cited the dumbest and most conspicuous examples of arbitrary cruelty that happened to pop into my head. This doesn’t cover the everyday, petty cruelties that teachers and administrators would exact upon kids they simply didn’t like. Without exception, these were the kids who were already marginalized: effeminate boys, masculine but unathletic girls, kids who dressed poorly, kids who spoke with accents, black kids, kids with learning disabilities or behavioral problems. These kids would be given detentions or even suspensions for minor infractions--looking away from the chalkboard, slouching, sneaking in candy, laughing at importune times, etc. It wasn’t the teacher’s fault, of course: zero tolerance and all that. But, strangely, the zero tolerance policies never seemed to apply to the popular, athletic, and/or well-connected kids. If Suzie Creamcheese was caught sneaking some Starburst during Algebra--well, she’s probably hungry, seeing as she works so hard. If Raul, Roofus, or Sheena were caught doing the same? God help them.

Some teachers were nicer than others, of course. Some were downright supportive. Others were simply evil. There was one, when I was in 7th grade, who was particularly repulsive and cruel--no kidding, his admiration of Rush Limbaugh was formative in my early-adopted hatred of American conservatives. He had matted red hair and teeth like a cracked picket fence and would wear a leather jacket out to lunch. Anyhow, he would prattle on about his hatred of kids who “Just. Refuse. To. Learn.” These kids were almost always black. Pure coincidence, I’m sure. He’d make a show of tossing them out of class--sometimes physically--for infractions as minor as getting an answer wrong when called upon. One time, a twitchy white kid who wore the same t-shirt every day called him out: It’s unfair, he said, that I’m getting thrown out of class for getting an answer wrong, when right before me another kid got several chances to respond.

The teacher turned beet red. He got on his knees and put his face two inches in front of the twitchy kid’s eyes.

“I’m not throwing you out because you got the answer wrong,” he explained. “I’m throwing you out because you are you.”

Again, these are the conspicuous examples. The everyday stuff is harder to describe twenty-five years after it happened. Most people were not brutalized and they didn’t have a single moment that ruined their life, but they were still exposed to a deeply unfair and cruel system, and such exposure naturally engenders feelings of betrayal, hopelessness, and anger.

Here’s my story--it’s particularly stupid. 9th grade. One day, I walked into Spanish class, and the large woman who teaches in that classroom before my section grabbed me by the collar, physically lifted me out of my chair, and shoved her moist biscuit of a hand into my face. “What is this,” she demanded.

This was all very sudden. I could see nothing but her hand, which had a distinct fecal aroma.

“I don’t know,” I said.

She removed her hand. I looked down toward desk. She stood silently. I had no fucking idea what she was talking about.

“You’re gonna tell me what you did, right now, or I’m gonna double the detentions.”

I was still silent. Seriously, no idea what was going on. This enraged her. She began to count upward, starting at 3 detentions and stopping at 10, by which point tears were welling up and my face was flushed. I said I seriously did not know. She pointed to a small pentagram someone had engraved into the desktop. The desks, by the way, were movable. Anyone could have done it. She blamed me because she didn’t like me. I served 10 detentions and had to pay over a hundred dollars (a shitload of money for a 13-year-old) to get the desk refinished.

This isn't the end of the world, obviously. But it really, oddly broke me. Before, I had thought that so long as I did was I supposed to and didn’t break any rules, I’d be okay. Now I realized that was bullshit, that any vindictive cunt with a few ounces of power could punish me for any reason, at any time, and I wouldn’t be allowed to mount a defense. That’s the sort of thing that fucks with a kid’s head. I mean, christ--it’s 23 years later and I’m still kinda pissed about it. I hope that woman is dead.

I regained a sense of control by stealing books from the woman’s classroom. A few times a week, I would grab a textbook when I came in, use it during class, and walk out with it. At the end of the school year, some friends and I burned them in a glorious bonfire along the banks of the Mississippi.

My response was petty and destructive, but I don’t feel any pengs of guilt or shame in remembering it. I had to do something to reassert agency, to feel like I had some control, and I managed to find a way to go about doing it that didn’t hurt anybody or get me into trouble. Regardless of the morality of my particular response, we can agree that kids are now much more surveilled than they were 20-odd years ago, and that minor mischief is now much more harshly criminalized. If a kid finds themself on the outs within their school, there’s really no way they can push back. Their only available avenue of asserting control over their lives is to wander into welcoming communities elsewhere…

One more anecdote then I’m done….

My sister was in high school during 9/11. The attacks were on a Tuesday, and the whole rest of the week was assemblies and talking circles and other such activities meant to assuage fear and gin up the hatred of the dirty brown bastards that done this. Two of my sister’s friends, older boys, were the sort of kids who read Howard Zinn and listened to Jello Biafra’s spoken word records. During one meeting, they expressed exasperation at a girl who was sobbing because she just, like, didn’t know why anyone would do that. The boys certainly didn’t approve of the attacks, but they tried to explain the whole concept of the US being an unhinged and murderous imperial power that had done much worse stuff all over the globe. The audience gasped. The boys were hauled into the principal’s office. They were charged with verbally assaulting the crying girl. One was suspended. The other expelled.

So, I dunno… go ahead. If you think due process is evil, that all victimhood claims are valid and should be taken at face value, and that kids of lesser social status should be demonized and made into criminals for upsetting members of the fair sex, then you do you. That’s fine if that’s what you believe. But please don’t be so naive as to think that the bulk of these newly criminalized behaviors are going to actually be malignant, or that the genuinely malignant behaviors of secure kids will be curbed in any way. Please respect yourself enough to realize that school admins aren’t magic sages with mature moral compasses--a plurality of them were business majors in college, for fuck’s sake. And most importantly, don’t be surprised if the kids you dismiss wind up doing some crazy or awful shit in response.

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nikkzwrites · 4 years ago

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Yesterday Once More | Dark Fix-It Fic Series | Chapter 1

A/N: This fic is one that I started with my OC because honestly, I personally didn’t like how season 3 ended. So I am rewriting all of Dark with my OC Annalise Dahlheim. I hope you all like it. Some things will be expanded more on just for more depth to Dark that season 3 kinda skipped over so.... yeah.

CW: Canon Typical Triggers: Smoking, Sex, Language, Drugs, Drinking, Death, Violence.

Word Count: 5.1k

[Next Chapter]

Meeting Jonas felt as if the world finally started turning for Annalise. Her lips felt dry seeing the blonde boy. Her tongue instinctively licked her lips to moisten them once more. His bright blue eyes were just as Martha had described. He was different though. He did not radiate the happy energy that Martha had once described.

“Anna,” Bartosz called to pull her out of her trance from seeing Jonas. He leaned over to his best friend and teased loud enough for everyone to hear, “Forgive her. She’s still a foreigner so her German isn’t the best.”

Annalise grumbled, “Please don’t call me that.” She rubbed her shoulder anxiously. She never understood why Martha decided to date such an ass when she was previously dating such a sweet boy, especially since the ass was the sweet boy’s best friend.

“Hey.” Jonas gave a small smile, “You know, it’s a fairly pretty name. It’s close to my mom’s name. Hannah.”

She laughed, “Did you just say my name was pretty because it sounds like your mom’s?”

Jonas blushed. He bit his lip for a second. “Yeah.” he quickly changed the subject, “You’re German isn’t that bad.”

Annalise rolled her eyes as she watched everyone walking towards the doors, “Well, Bartosz likes to make fun of me.” She spotted Magnus and said, “I’ve gotta go talk to him.” She honestly just wanted to leave the awkward conversation.

Bartosz laughed and explained to his friend once she left, “She lives with them since her exchange status, you know. Anna is weirdly close to Magnus. Martha always asks me to stop pointing it out but the way she looks at him is fucking weird.”

“Did you tell anyone,” Jonas changed the subject.

Bartosz chuckled, “I told everyone you were on a two-month school exchange in France, playing hide-the-baguette. Conveniently enough, Annalise came over from America a month later so no one really questioned much.” He looked at Jonas who still seemed worried, “Relax. Come on.” He walked towards the school and encouraged his friend, “Come on.”

Magnus looked down at Annalise and rolled his eyes at the girl’s smelling of him, “Yeah. Mikkel is at school safe. You should have just waited for all of us if you were that worried.”

“You smell like weed,” She commented pulling away from the older boy.

Magnus shook his head, “Who are you? Franziska? What has gotten into everyone today?” A slight blush grew on his face.

“Franziska,” Annalise teased dancing just out of his reach, “That’s a big surprise, Magnus.”

“Shut up,” He turned his head and asked, “Shouldn’t you go find Martha?”

Annalise nodded then turned just in time to spot her, “There she is, I’ll go. Bye Magnus. Have fun~”

Martha looked at her foreign friend. “You left without me this morning,” she complained, “where did you go?”

Annalise shrugged, “I just walked to school.” She lied. She had gone to try to pick up some bread for herself that morning and past Ulrich on her way coming back from the bakery. He made her promise not to tell anyone about it, so she had eaten as much as she could before getting to school before passing it off to one of her other classmates.

“Assemblies like this are for idiots,” Bartosz reasoned, “They need to get rid of them.”

Jonas didn’t reply, but instead, kept an eye on Martha who was walking towards them. He truly smiled for the first time since getting home. His hopeful eyes watched as she moved to sit.

Bartosz moved to give Martha a place to sit next to him. When he noticed Annalise with her, he whispered to the person next to Jonas to move.

Martha sat in between Bartosz and Jonas. Sorrowfully, she gave Bartosz a kiss as he wrapped an arm around her. Completely unaware of Jonas’ face changing to one of hurt, she linked her hand with Bartosz’s.

Bartosz leaned over and confessed as if an afterthought, “Maybe you did miss something.”

Annalise shifted uncomfortably on the other side of Jonas and looked away. A sick feeling filled her stomach seeing how Jonas’s expressions changed. She just bit the inside of her lip and decided to stay out of it for the moment though.

Martha looked up at Jonas to finally fully study him. She mustered up her courage to let out a, “Hey.”

Very quietly, Jonas replied back, “Hey.”

Martha looked around the room trying to figure out exactly what she wanted to say next. She could feel that they were making this moment awkward for everyone. “How was France,” She asked.

Before Jonas could respond, Bartosz answered, “French. How else?” He laughed at his own joke causing Martha to look at him unamused.

Annalise leaned over, made a face at him, and said, “Shove off Bartosz, that wasn’t even funny.”

“Oh, shut up Anna,” Bartosz rolled his eyes and sneered back at her before he and Annalise shifted to sit correctly in their seats once more.

Everyone started to applaud as Katharina walked onto the stage as if the entire school were thankful that she interrupted the awkwardness between Jonas and Martha. The woman thanked everyone for their warm welcome and then started on the assembly about Erik Obendorf. This caused numerous students to whisper amongst themselves as Jonas and Martha just looked at each other.

Afterward, they all walked to their classes. Annalise lagged behind with Jonas kind of just following Bartosz and Martha. She really didn’t know what to say to make the situation any better. So she instead elected to stay silent. The girl did overhear Bartosz talking about meeting up to go to the caves later to get the remains of Erik’s dope. She shook her head and stormed past them, “Excuse me.” She walked into her and Martha’s shared first period.

Bartosz smiled and chuckled, “She really needs to get some dick. Magnus still hasn’t done that yet?” He teased Martha.

Martha lightly hit her boyfriend, “Gross.” She pulled away and followed Annalise into the classroom to try and apologize.

Bartosz anxiously waited until the middle of the first period with Jonas to discuss going to the caves. First, he needed to make his friend laugh though. While Franziska gave her report, he leaned over to his friend, “You know what I’ve been wondering for days? If the blackest hole of all is parked in Franziska Doppler’s ass.”

Jonas finally chuckled. A giant grin spread across his face and he tried to suppress his laughter.

“But, seriously,” Bartosz stated seriously, “what I really wonder is this: If Erik didn’t run away, but got snuffed out or something instead, then all his dope is still in the caves.”

Jonas looked at his friend confused.

Bartosz continued, “He kept his entire stash there.”

“So,” Jonas asked.

Bartosz shook his head, “Oh, man!” He sighed at his friend’s foolishness, “We go in there and….bingo!”

Jonas scoffed, “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s awesome,” Bartosz counteracted.

Martha leaned over to Annalise and whispered, “I know you two aren’t the greatest of friends, but can’t you and Bartosz try to be at least a bit more polite and nicer to each other?”

Annalise twirled her pencil in her hand, “Tell that to him first. I’ve always been the one to try and play nice.”

“Well, you are coming with us to the cave tonight right,” Martha pleaded, “It would be really awkward if it’s just me, Bartosz, and Jonas.”

Annalise smiled and stifled a laugh, “Isn’t Magnus also going? Want another person there so you can hoe with your boyfriend without feeling bad about Jonas.”

“Shut up,” Martha blushed and hit her shoulder against the other girl a bit harder than she expected that caused Annalise to fall out of her seat with a large clang of the metal stool against the cement floor.

The bell rang signifying the end of the school day before any of the kids could realize.

Jonas called Bartosz on his bullshit then asked, “Then you’ll go around selling it or what?”

Bartosz hummed, “No dude. We’ll smoke half of it ourselves. And if there are capacities on the market, you don’t hesitate.” He further explained, “We’ll go there and get the stuff. Easy Peasy.”

“Who’s getting what stuff,” Magnus’s deep voice called over to the two boys as he and his sister joined them atop the stairs.

“We’re going to the caves tonight,” Bartosz explained to the boy before going to greet his girlfriend with a deep kiss.

Magnus laughed. He turned towards Jonas and asked, “You turning into boy scouts?”

“Bartosz thinks Erik’s dope is there,” Jonas replied.

The group started their way down the stairs to meet up with Annalise who was waiting hanging off the metal banister on the outside of the stairs. Martha spoke up, “Fanny told me they once found a dead squirrel with five legs there.”

“You’ll believe any old crap,” Magnus teased his sister.

Annalise laughed and said, “Come on Magnus. Leave Martha alone. Let her live in her dreams.” She hopped off to pounce on her surrogate brother’s back causing him to stumble a bit. They both started to laugh and Jonas smiled at the pure ridiculousness of what was going on between Magnus and Annalise.

Martha turned to the two laughing like crows, “Just because you can’t see past your nose doesn’t mean there aren’t things going on out there that the nuclear power mafia keeps secret from the public.”

Magnus pushed Annalise off while Martha went on her rant. As he passed his sister, he told her, “Don’t forget to breathe.” Franziska, as if on cue, stood in the doorway blocking the group. She looked up at the tall older boy. Magnus carefully moved past her. “Franziska.” he acknowledged her.

“Magnus,” she replied walking backward to eye him up and down before continuing her way into the school.

Bartosz, Jonas, and Annalise stood back to watch her walk away in awe with what had just happened.

Just as Franziska was out of range, Martha looked at her brother disgusted, “You got a crush on her now or what?”

“Shut up,” Bartosz muttered under his breath.

Annalise chuckled and murmured, “So it’s mutual. I see.”

When Magnus ignored her, she said, “Hey, idiot.”

“Okay, what the hell.”

The other boys started to ‘Woah’ at Martha and Magnus. Starting to get into the middle of the near fight, Jonas said, “Let’s go to the caves tonight and look.”

Bartosz gently slapped his friend’s shoulder, “Yeah dude.” He did his handshake with Magnus before taking Martha’s hand and walking ahead, “Come on.”

Jonas stood there and watched as the other three walked for a moment. He was completely lost staring at the sight in front of him that he nearly panicked at Annalise bumping her shoulder against Jonas’s.

“Do you live at school or are you coming,” Annalise teased as she started to urge him to walk with her.

Jonas laughed a bit while shaking his head, “Yeah. Thanks.”

The rest of the group was so far ahead at that point that Annalise decided to try to make some conversation. She smiled at Jonas and walked ahead of him a bit so she could walk backward and face him, “So, you know the first time I got here, I wasn’t used to so many men speaking German. In fact, I was a bit afraid of German.”

Jonas looked up and raised a brow at her, “Yeah?” He didn’t one hundred percent want to be rude since she was Martha’s friend, but he really didn’t know where she was going with telling him this.

Annalise smiled and continued with her story, “Well, when I was first moving here for the program, I heard that Katharina was going to pick me up. So I was waiting for her when a tall authoritative intimating man walked up and started speaking to me in full German.” She started laughing, “I knew what he was saying, but I couldn’t help it. I just started crying right there in the middle of the airport. Everyone just kept staring at Ulrich and me until someone asked what was wrong. You should have seen his face.” Annalise doubled over laughing at her recollection.

Jonas smiled and chuckled. He couldn’t help but feel a bit more cheerful after seeing her eyes sparkle. Her laugh infected him and before he knew it he was laughing as well even though he didn’t even think the story was that funny. He just really enjoyed the fact someone was putting so much effort into making him feel normal again. Jonas looked at her again. It was as if she was made of vibrant colors and radiating it outwards. The pinkish-orange hue that she emitted from just existing in his life was like watching the most beautiful sunset.

Annalise finally was able to stop laughing as they got where they needed to part ways so that way she could pick up Mikkel and then head home. They stopped and looked at each other for a moment. “Please don’t tell anyone I told you that,” She plead with him jokingly, “Bartosz would never let me live it down.”

“I won’t,” Jonas nodded. He laughed.

Annalise laughed again and said, “Jonas. Don’t laugh! Makes me think you are going to tell him as soon as I’m gone.”

Jonas continued to laugh, “What do you want me to do about that, you’re laughing too. You stop first.”

“Promise me, Jonas,” Annalise giggled.

The boy wiped happy tears away from his eyes, “I promise.”

“I promise what,” She dogged him.

“I promise,” Jonas smiled, “that I won’t tell them so that they will make fun of you. Only I get that.”

Annalise shook her head, “See you later asshole.” She giggled and blushed as she walked away.

Jonas watched her leave. He walked towards his house still watching her. “See you later,” he whispered under his breath as he waved towards her leaving form before he turned around to continue walking back home before the meetup.

Annalise touched her tree of life necklace. Its silver comforted her as she waited for Mikkel to walk over to her. She scanned to try to find the little boy who had grown to be like a little brother to her. Her heart felt scared knowing she was going to keep Ulrich’s secret from him. It was for the best, but she never wanted to lie to him.

When Mikkel spied Annalise, he smiled and ran up to her. He gave her a forceful hug that made them have to spin to keep balance. He yelled, “Lise! You came to pick me up!”

Annalise smiled and said, “Yeah I wanted to be the one to walk you home before Magnus took you to Heide’s.” She laughed as she held the boy, “So you will never guess who I met today.” She grabbed Mikkel’s hand so that they could walk together.

Mikkel laughed, “Did you finally meet Jonas?! He’s great, huh?”

Annalise ruffled the boy’s hair with her other hand, “Yeah.” She didn’t notice the pink painted on her face until Mikkel spoke up.

“You’re blushing,” He teased, “Do you like him?”

Annalise unconvincingly scoffed, “What? Me? I just met him.” Her face glowing.

The young boy laughed and concluded, “So you do like him.”

“Well, he isn’t not handsome,” She conceded with the boy letting the truth out about her feelings just a little bit.

When they got home, Annalise hurried upstairs to get freshened up. Martha was just about to leave but decided to wait for her friend. Martha looked at her and asked, “Wanting to impress someone now?”

Annalise blushed and finished up freshening up. She turned to her friend and asked, “Are we going?”

Martha nodded and asked, “Can you pick up some drinks from the convenience store since we are so early?”

Annalise made a face but agreed to anyway. She walked to the convenience store. She wandered down the isles and grabbed a six-pack of the mini plastic bottled Coca Cola’s and grabbed two tall glass Coca Colas. She smiled as she walked back towards the train tracks where she was going to meet back up with Martha.

Then she heard voices. She squinted and snuck closer making sure they didn’t hear her. “Where are Bartosz and the others,” asked a boy’s voice. Annalise surmised it must have been Jonas’s. It was similar and very fluid like the way he spoke.

“Late.” Martha responded, “As always.” This made Annalise want to wring her neck, but the girl stayed silent to listen. “The thing with Bartosz…”

Jonas quickly interrupted sounding panicked, “It’s okay. You don’t need to explain.”

“But I want to,” Martha replied to him. She started to sound like she was holding back tears, “I wrote you a text while you were away. Not just one. But I never sent them. It all sounded wrong somehow. What happened between us last summer…I...” Martha trailed off.

Jonas spoke up once more, “It’s really okay.” It didn’t sound okay. They were silent again. Annalise was just about to reveal herself when Jonas started again, “Something up? They were both lightly laughing now. This really hurt Annalise for some reason.

“I think I’m having deja vu,” Martha explained, “The light, the forest. As if all of this has already happened before.”

Jonas looked around looking right past Annalise with no notice. He looked back towards Martha with a small chuckle and a shrug, “A glitch in the matrix.”

Martha asked confused, “What?”

“If the world is a simulation,” Jonas explained, “deja vu is a glitch in the matrix.”

“Or a message from the other side,” Martha retorted, “I read that somewhere.”

Annalise felt very awkward watching such an intimate moment. For some reason, her heart ached a bit hearing them talk so easily. Part of the girl honestly wanted to just leave and go home. Have nothing to do with any of this.

Then Mikkel and Magnus walked near her. The younger boy noticed the girl hiding from the other two. Mikkel smiled as he linked his arm with Annalise’s and made her walk up with him.

“Hey, what the hell,” Martha asked Magnus.

He quickly replied, “Parents’ meeting. Heide’s got a stomach bug. I’m stuck with him.”

“Hi, Jonas,” Mikkel pulled away from the girl, “Ultimate fist bump?” He held out his fist to the older boy.

Jonas smiled and gave the boy a quick fist bump.

Annalise looked to Martha and Magnus then offered, “I can go home and stay with him if you want me to.”

Martha shook her head and looked towards her brother who responded with, “You take him back.” Magnus looked straight at Martha.

“Relax guys,” Mikkel interrupted, “I’m not a baby anymore.”

Bartosz, then, jogged up. “What is the idiot doing here,” he asked swatting Mikkel behind the head.

“Hey,” Annalise pulled Mikkel more towards her.

“Yeah,” Magnus agreed, “Only I can do that, okay?” Then he swatted his little brother behind his head. Annalise made a face as Mikkel complained that it hurt. She pulled the boy closer to her and gave him a plastic bottle coke while covering one finger over her lips. Magnus flipped his flashlight in his hand and held the light up to his face before saying, “Let us go.”

Mikkel looked up at Annalise as everyone started to follow Magnus, “Thank Lise.”

“It’s no problem Mikkel,” She grabbed a glass one out of the bag for herself. She opened it and turned to Jonas, “Do you want one?”

Jonas smiled gently, “Yeah. Thanks.” He took the other glass bottle from her and held it towards her so that she could open it.

Finally hearing the noise of a Coca Cola being opened, Bartosz turned around, “Oh nice! Thanks Anna.” He grabbed the bag from her hoping to find more of the glass bottles then turned towards her, “Did you only get two of those?”

Annalise smiled coyly at the boy, “It’s not like I was paid to get everyone a glass one. First come, first serve.” She clinked her bottle with Jonas then took a sip just to spite the boy.

Bartosz rolled his eyes, “Whatever.” He turned back around to continue walking with his arm around Martha howling at the moon with the others.

Jonas looked at the two wistfully and Annalise bumped his shoulder, “Come on.” She coaxed him into walking with her as a pair in the back.

It wasn’t too long once they entered the woods that the group started to walk more in a line across. Mikkel was the first to speak up again, “What do you guys think happened to Erik?” He walked with his older brother then continued, “Kids in our class are saying someone kidnapped him and has him locked up in a basement.”

Magnus rolled his eyes, “Oh shut up. He just ran away.”

Martha used this opportunity to look at Jonas once more.

“But it could be that he’s locked up somewhere and can’t get out,” Mikkel explained his side. “Why would someone do that? Lock someone else up?” the boy asked.

“It’s like the witch in Hansel and Gretel,” Bartosz tried to joke, “When she gets hungry, she has something to eat.”

Martha held back a laugh and hit her boyfriend much to the displeasure of Mikkel. She shook her head then replied, “No, Even if Mom and Dad tell you that most people are nice, there are people out there who are anything but nice.”

Magnus and Annalise both spoke up.

“Like your sister,” the oldest boy said.

“Like Bartosz,” the girl had said at the same time as the boy.

They turned towards each other and laughed as Martha complained, “You idiots.”

Jonas then spoke up, “My father said good and evil are a question of perspective.” He looked around seeing everyone suddenly quieter and a bit awkward. He joked, “Dead father, bad topic?”

Mikkel spoke up once more to get the topic back on track, “And if Erik is no longer alive? If he’s lying dead somewhere and no one finds him? That would be the worst. Even if you’re dead, you want to be found.”

“No one is dead and no one won’t be found, okay,” Martha angrily said clearly tired of the conversation, “Can we please change the topic now?”

Bartosz smiled deviously and said, “Annalise has been awfully quiet during this exchange. Why not we pick on her for a little bit?”

Annalise rolled her eyes, “You’re only mad that you didn’t get a glass bottle. Here, if you want it so badly take mine.” She held it out to the boy who quickly took it and returned the back of plastic mini bottles to her.

“Thank you,” Bartosz teased getting hit again by Martha, “Ouch. What?”

Jonas looked towards Annalise and held out his bottle, “I didn’t drink too much of it if you still want some from the bottle. I saw that you only took like one sip of yours.”

Annalise smiled and joked, “Thanks, I’d much prefer to share an indirect kiss with anyone else.” She was just about to press the bottle to her lips before she realized what she had said then paused. She tried to hand it back to Jonas.

Jonas, trying to ignore his own blush, said, “No. It’s okay.” He smiled, “It’s just funny that you would say that.”

Annalise took a quick sip before handing the bottle back to Jonas, “Why? Is it weird I don’t want to kiss my best friend’s boyfriend?”

Jonas laughed, “No. I think it’s just funny that it was your first thought. It makes me think you’ve thought about it before.”

“Ew,” Annalise shook her head, “That’s Bartosz you’re talking about. That’s disgusting.” She blushed and mumbled, “maybe someone else but not Bartosz really.”

Jonas chuckled and drank some of his drink himself.

“I’m bored, can we go home,” Mikkel complained as they passed the nuclear power plant.

“We are almost there,” Bartosz explained.

Jonas stood in front of the gates and stared. Strangely enough, he felt as if all of this had happened before as well. He was lost in this thought when he felt a small gentle pressure next to him and a girl’s voice call to him.

“Jonas,” Annalise tried to snap the boy out of his trance. “The others are leaving us.”

Jonas stared back at the plant then nodded following her once more.

It wasn’t long before the group finally made it to the caves. Bartosz called for everyone to split up to look for the drugs. He, himself, went to the chair it was normally in and looked.

Magnus called to him, “And?”

“Fuck, dude,” Bartosz replied, “It was here.”

A girl’s voice called over to the group, “Looking for this?” Everyone turned to see that it was Franziska holding the drugs and what looked like a burner cell.

“What is she doing here,” Martha complained.

“That’s mine,” Bartosz told Franziska.

Franziska sneered, “The definition of ownership says, ‘the possession is nine-tenths of the law,’ so it’s mine for now. But I’m selling. What’ll you give me for it?”

Bartosz pretended to think for a moment before moving to push her, “A kick in the ass.”

“What’s in here is easily worth 500,” she said pulling the drugs away from him, “It’s yours for 200. Daddy’s got plenty of money.” She tormented him.

Bartosz pushed the redhead and said, “Stop the bullshit.” He growled, “Just give it to me.”

Magnus shifted trying to hold back his anger at his sister’s boyfriend as Bartosz took the drugs away from Franziska.

As Bartosz walked away, he sang songed, “Jackpot.”

Franziska was just on her way closer to the group when there was a loud noise that came from within the cave. It sounded as if a door had opened inside of it. “What’s that,” Magnus asked terror unhidden from his voice.

There was a noise that sounded not too far from the group that made all of them turn to look. Martha spoke up, “Someone’s there.”

“Oh, shit!” the oldest boy whispered.

The noises continued making everyone turn. Then everyone’s flashlights started to flicker while looking towards the cave.

Everyone started to panic. It wasn’t long before Magnus yelled for everyone to run and go.

The rest of the group turn and ran leaving Mikkel and Jonas behind. Jonas quickly grabbed Mikkel’s hand and told the boy, “Come on.” He ran with Mikkel through the woods. Jonas tried to keep the boy ahead of him as he kept turning back to see if anyone was chasing them.

Annalise looked around realizing that Jonas and Mikkel weren’t with them and turned back quickly.

Jonas tripped in the woods. He tried to stumble and crawl his way back up. He turned and tried to call out, “Mikkel?” He yelled out, “Mikkel!” When he turned again, the boy saw his dad covered in black liquid. Jonas started to panic even more. He fell again before he was fully able to run away from the terrifying fright.

Annalise heard Jonas’s call and ran towards it, “Jonas?” She called. She started to hear footsteps as if they were running towards her. “Jonas?!” She called afraid.

Jonas soon revealed that it was him and grabbed her, “Lise, come on!” His iron grip pulled her with him as they ran out of the forest. He never let go of her wrist.

“Where’s Mikkel,” she called to Jonas over the falling rain that had started to drench them. When he didn’t answer her she called to him, “Jonas, where’s Mikkel?!”

He asked, “Is he not with the rest of the group?” He stopped only for a split second to ask her. His chest heaving from running so much.

“I don’t know, I came looking for y’all,” She yelled over the rain. Thankfully the rain hid her tears from him.

Jonas shook his head and started to pull her towards the exit again, “He must be with the others.”

When the rest of the group got to the bridge, Bartosz hit Magnus’s chest, “What the fuck, man! What was that?”

Magnus yelled, “No idea. Shit!” He looked towards Franziska and Martha that had finally caught up to them.

“Man, what was that,” Martha yelled as the other girl thrashed around as if looking for something or someone.

Magnus finally had a moment of clarity and yelled, “Where’s Jonas, Lise, and Mikkel?!”

Right on time, Jonas emerged from the forest dragging Annalise behind him. He sprinted to get to the rest of the group causing Annalise to trip. He stopped to help her up only to run back to them.

“Where’s Mikkel,” Magnus asked the two. Jonas and Annalise tried to take a moment to breathe. When they didn’t respond Magnus yelled, “Where is Mikkel?”

Annalise started to sob. Jonas replied, “Why isn’t he with you?!”

Martha yelled back at Jonas, “He was with you!”

“Shit,” Magnus yelled before running and calling for his brother in vain, “Mikkel! Mikkel!”

Everyone else ran after him. Annalise stopped and pulled out her phone. She quickly called the police and said, “H-h-hello. I think my brother has gone missing in the Winden woods. We’ve been calling for him, but he won’t respond.”

The police then instructed her to gather everyone else so that way they could stay together and accounted for. They then asked who was with her. Annalise started to give everyone’s names and the police then notified the parents.

All the teenagers split up into groups so that way the adults had an easier time finding who was who’s.

Ulrich ran to his son and daughter who had started to make their way towards their father. Charlotte and Regina comforted their respective children. Annalise stood behind Jonas still sobbing and shaking as Hannah ran to her son and held him. Jonas turned back towards Annalise and extended his hand to lace his fingers with hers. He pulled her close to him as she tried to calm herself. Hannah instinctively grabbed onto Annalise to pull her into the hug as well.

Ulrich, when Katharina finally arrived, ran his way through the woods calling for his son.

The next morning, everyone was just in shock. Annalise turned to look at Jonas. Hannah had let her stay with them that night to let the Nielsens’ have some family time alone. Lise had end up sneaking in with Jonas after asking if it was alright because neither one of them could really sleep. They just lay there breathing next to each other staring up at the ceiling not knowing what to say or do.

#yesterday once more fanfic #dark fanfic #dark netflix #dark netflix fanfic #fix it fic

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the-delta-42 · 5 years ago

Text

Endgame 2

based on This by @lenoreofraven

Repost of This by me

1 [Here], 2 [Here], 3 [Here]

Marinette stood still as the Wave expanded outwards. She swayed slightly, before collapsing, detransforming as she did. Adrien rushed forwards and caught her, Tikki landed in Marinette’s hands.

“Let’s never do that again.” Said Marinette, looking up at Adrien, before losing consciousness

Behind them five stones started forming. Tony did a quick count, spotting that the Mind Stone was absent.

Tony, Bruce and Rocket started making the new Infinity Gauntlet, to reverse Thanos’s damage.

“I still think Tikki would’ve been able to fix everything.” Said Plagg, his tiny arms folded.

“She’s only just gotten back, Plagg,” Said Nooroo, “Restoring the stones alone knocked both her and her chosen out.”

Plagg huffed, before he flew down to Tikki. Marinette regained consciousness, as Thor and Banner were arguing who should use the Gauntlet. Marinette shook her head, before Clint’s phone went off.

Everyone went silent, as Clint answered his phone. Clint started crying, Natasha looked at the caller ID and gaped.

“You were just trying to restore the stones, right?” Natasha asked Marinette, as Marinette took the Turtle, Fox and Peacock Miraculous and placed them in containers that then vanished back to their own time.

“Yeah, why?” Marinette responded, before Natasha turned the phone to face Marinette, showing Clint’s wife as the caller.

The three dead Miraculous suddenly glowed and flew into the air. Wayzz, Trixx and Duusuu flew out and landed in their wielders hands.

Adrien gasped and practically tore his prosthetic off and threw it to the floor, Ladybugs swarmed Adrien’s arm, and when they left, his right hand was restored. One by one, each avenger received a phone call from someone, from people who had been lost in the snap.

“JARVIS, track how far that Wave is going.” Said Tony, as he walked towards a display.

“Sir, it appears that the ‘Wave’, as you put it, is still on going.” Responded JARVIS.

“So, it hasn’t covered the planet yet?” Natasha asked, no one noticing Nebula walk off.

“It has just left the Solar System, and it’s speed is only increasing.” Said JARVIS, making Plagg laugh.

“I knew it, I told you that Tikki could fix everything.” Said the Kwami, before the entire building shook.

“Sir, the dual-phase shielding is down to 25% integrity.” JARVIS reported.

“JARVIS, what is firing at us?” Demanded Tony, everyone struggling to stay on their feet.

“It appears to be a large structure floating in the sky, sir.” JARVIS Reported.

Everything then exploded in a flash of colour.

/*/

Marinette groaned as she came to. She looked around the rubble.

“Tikki,” Marinette said, “Spots on, Guard up.��

There was a flash of pink and Ladybug called Eruption, Hail and Mjolnir to her. Ladybug could hear grunts and shouts coming from above her. Ladybug blew a hole above and jumped upwards, and saw Tony, Steve and Thor fighting Thanos.

Ladybug grit her teeth and leapt at Thanos, bringing Hail down onto his helmet. The clang was loud, but Thanos punching Marinette in the gut was harder. Marinette skidded across the ground, as Thanos tried to kill Thor with Stormbreaker. Mjolnir flew past Thanos, striking the titan in the face, and into the waiting hand of Steven Rogers.

Ladybug could’ve sworn she hear Thor mutter “I knew it.”

For a brief moment, they had the upper hand. And then Thanos destroyed Caps shield.

“All the slaughtering, the fighting, it was never personal.” Said Thanos, contempt written on his face, “But now, let me tell you what I will do to this world.”

Steve grit his teeth, Ladybug and Thor either side of him.

Then the portals opened and the lost walked out. Black Panther, Bucky, Falcon, Wanda and everyone else lost in the Snap, walked out. Soon more portals appeared, The Guardians of the Galaxy, Revengers and the heroes that were few and far between all stood together. Antman went giant, holding War Machine, Rocket and the other Miraculous holders.

“AVENGERS,” Steve yelled, everyone going silent, “Assemble.”

Then both sides charged, Ladybug removed the head of a Chitari that made the mistake of coming to close to her. Thor suddenly stiffened and grabbed Ladybug and Valkyrie and pulled them to the side.

“What are you doing?” Valkyrie demanded, just as the Bifrost fit the battlefield.

Then Loki walked out, then Heimdall, then Lady Sif, then the Warriors Three and then, the last person Thor though would be fighting with them, Hela, all followed by the Guards of Asgard and the Beserkers.

“I hope we not late.” Said Loki, prompting a laugh from Thor.

“Fight now, hug later.” Said Natasha ducking past the group and ramming a knife into a Dark Elf.

Ladybug looked down at Eruption, before throwing it to Natasha.

“I don’t think a knife is good on a battlefield.” Making Loki look insulted.

Then the biggest and most dangerous game of keep away started, except instead of a ball or a pillow, they were throwing the Infinity Gauntlet between each other. Natasha spun Eruption in her hand, before attacking Thanos. She managed to get some deep cuts on his arms, before Thanos grabbed her arm, broke it and impaled Natasha onto Eruption, before soundly breaking her neck.

Black Widow fell to the ground, dead. The Avenger stopped, unable to look away from Natasha.

Ladybug looked Thanos dead in the eye and said “Big. Mistake.”

Thanos only had a sick grin on his face, before Hulk crashed down onto him and started beating the Titan down, even going as far as, who Thor and Loki call, Puny Goding him. Thanos then punched Hulk in the face and threw him towards one of his ships.

Ladybug saw Spider-man had the Infinity Gauntlet, before he was knock to the ground. Chat appeared beside her and threw a Black Hole into the middle of Thanos’ forces, Ladybug then threw a ball of fire into the Black Hole, making it blow up. Viperion and Dragon Empress landed either side of them.

“So, what did we miss?” Luka joked, before Ladybug turn to the two and pulled them into a tight embrace.

“Too much.” Ladybug whispered, as Thanos ordered his ships to start firing down at them. The shields made by the Masters of the Mystic arts covered everyone against Thanos. Until the ships started firing into the sky.

Ladybug looked around, and realised, with a jolt, that the entire Miraculous Team was with them. Ladybug looked at Chat, who grinned sheepishly.

“We needed al the help we could get.” Said Chat, as Bunnyx arrived next to them.

“What are they firing at?” Bunnyx squinted at the sky.

“The other Captain.” Said Ladybug, as Captain Marvel rammed into Thanos. They attempted to get the Infinity Gauntlet away from Thanos by sending to another time, except Thanos destroyed the time machine.

Then Thanos got hold of the Gauntlet, before a yellow beam of light hit him in the chest.

Vision descended into the fray and landed next to Wanda, before a zipping sound was heard and Quick Silver stopped next to them. Ladybug started to think that her cure may have worked and little too well.

“Wanda,” Said Vision, before Wanda grab hold of him and held him tight.

Amidst the confusion, Thanos got the Gauntlet again and grinned, Tony jumping at him and trying to pull the Gauntlet off, before Thanos knocked him away.

“I am,” Said Thanos, sick pleasure on his face, “Inevitable.”

Thanos snapped his fingers, Ladybug felt a weight drop in her stomache. Nothing happened.

Thanos looked at the Gauntlet and spotted the stones missing. Everyone looked at Tony, who raised his left hand up, showing the stones as they took position on the back of his hand.

“And I,” Grunted Tony, as the power of the stones coursed through him, “Am. Ironman.”

Tony snapped his fingers and then there was a bright flash.

All around them, Thanos’ army and his minions all turned to dust. Marinette felt a twinge of satisfaction, as everything that Thanos had built all crumbled around him, before he too, was dust.

Everyone gathered around Tony. Ladybug cast a silent lucky charm and then miraculous healing and the ground, and the building was all restored, with the exception of Black Widow and Ironman.

“The healing doesn’t work on those killed with Uru metal or from the power of the Infinity Stones.” Said Hela, as Tony breathed his last, “I can speak with the keeper souls and bring them back.”

Everyone knew that it wouldn’t work.

A few weeks later, Tony’s and Natasha’s funerals were held.

Thor returned to Asgard and ascended the throne. The stones were returned to their origin points and Steve stood down as Captain America.

A week after that, Marinette and Adrien returned to Paris and introduced Emma to her grandparents.

The Avengers moved on and everything went back to normal.

Marinette did give her former classmates a shock when she became one of their net teachers.

They somehow convinced Marinette and Adrien to renew their vows.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #Avengers #Iron Man #captain america #Black Widow #thor #ant man #spiderman #marivenger #delta writes #marivenger au

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babbushka · 6 years ago

Text

Healer

Hi friends i’m currently suffering with a killer headcold and i have no one to take care of me so i am living vicariously through fanfiction!!!! please enjoy Kylo taking care of his girl!!

Word Count: 1800

Warnings: None

“You’re what?” Kylo asked, speaking into the small comm on his wrist.

He had just gotten out of a very successful meeting when your call was patched through your private channel with him, and he had answered it immediately, eager to speak to you. One could only imagine his dismay when he could barely understand what you were saying – too caught up in coughing fits to speak clearly.

“Sick.” You repeated yourself. Stars, you sounded miserable, he thought. Frowning immediately, he began walking towards your quarters.

“How?” He asked, probably too harshly, because the small static of a huff just sounded through the comm – and then another round of coughing.

“What do you mean how, just last week we went off ship. I probably picked something up at the transport station.” You groaned.

Kylo slowed his gait until he was standing in the middle of the hallway, stormtroopers and mouse droids doing their best to not dare bump into the Supreme Leader.

“I don’t…know what to do about sick.” Kylo said, his brow creasing with worry as you hacked up a lung.

Were you dying? Would this be how you met your end? Panic hit him hard, and he started walking in five different directions, not sure where to go or what to do. Of course a medic would be needed, he needed to get you to the medbay – he needed to get you away from anything that might make this worse –

“Kylo, surely you’ve had a cold before.” You said once you finally caught your breath.

“No. The force burns all my illnesses away.” Kylo replied, having made up his mind and going straight to your shared wing of the ship.

To his mild relief, you laughed.

“I don’t believe that.” You replied, before hesitantly asking, “Can you please stop by the cafeteria and bring me back some soup when you come home?”

He turned on his heel at once and stormed through the hallway towards the cafeteria. He face was set in a menacing expression purposely, he didn’t want anyone getting in his way. Taking care of you was more important than anything a petty officer needed him for.

“Of course I can, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Kylo said, before hanging up.

After demanding four different kinds of soup and having a droid carry them all – you needed variety, of course – Kylo knocked gently on the door before punching in the access code and entering the foyer.

The droid went ahead and placed the wrapped bowls of soup on the table to be dealt with later, first he needed to hold you in his arms and check the status of your illness.

“(Y/N)?” He said, loud enough for you to hear him, but not loud enough that it would hurt your ears if you had a headache. “It’s me.”

“Uuuuuuuuuggh.” A pitiful groan followed by a wheezing cough came from the bedroom, and Kylo’s worry only magnified.

He stepped through to your bedroom, where you were laying very much how a corpse lays – limbs sprawled out in no coherent manner, one leg off the bed entirely, an arm thrown over your face. You were surrounded by crumpled up tissues, and your hair was stuck to your cheek.

“I missed you too.” Kylo tried joking, but he could feel his own heart speed up, he had never seen you like this before.

Don’t come any closer! You thought to him, too tired to use your words now that he was close enough that you could communicate telepathically.

“But, I love you.” He frowned, and the innocence in his tone made your already stinging eyes tear up.

I love you too but I’ll get you sick. You said with a shake of your head.

He only grinned, and shook his head right back at you.

“I told you, I don’t get sick.” He left the bedroom momentarily to go grab one of the styrofoam soup bowls from the dining room table. “I brought you soup.” He held the bowl up so you could see, and then set it down on the nightstand as he hovered.

Thank you. You smiled weakly at him, eternally grateful for his care.

Kylo wanted to sit with you, but you looked disgusting. Like an angel, as always, but…one that was absolutely crawling with being sick.

“You’re going to shower, and change into some clean clothes. Then soup, and rest.” Kylo decided, taking his boots and cape off. He would of course be joining you for all of those activities. He mostly needed to keep reassuring himself that you would be okay, and what better way to do that than to watch over you and witness your recovery himself?

You’re supposed to be in a meeting right now, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to interru— You frowned, feeling guilty, but he put a stop to that right away.

“Don’t even think about apologizing.” He reassured you. You tried to get up but you were too weak to, groaning and using the headboard for support. “Please, let me.” He rushed to say, scooping you up in his arms.

He carried you to the ‘fresher, where he stripped and then helped you undress as the water in the shower got hot.

You leaned on him for support as he ran his fingers across your back and neck, trying to massage some of the knots out. He lathered shampoo in your hair and scrubbed at your scalp in a way that made tingles shiver down your spine, and he could have cried from relief when he saw your bright smile at the feeling.

“Which one today?” He asked, pointing to the range of conditioners that you had collected from the trip off ship.

The blue one. Can you tell me about your day? You replied, wanting to hear his voice. It was the most soothing sound in all the galaxy to you.

“Hux was…manageable, for once. He’s been wholly more pleasant ever since promoting him to Grand Marshal. The meeting in the morning went well, we’re arranging a gala to assemble dignitaries to strengthen loyalty to the Order.” Kylo said as he coated your hair in the conditioner, before using the leftover in his hand to nourish his own head of hair.

Will I get to wear the nice dress? You asked hopefully, making him chuckle.

“You can wear anything you want, my love.” He kissed your forehead, and you just looped your arms around his neck, still needing him for support, but also simply wanting to be close to him.

He lathered up a big fluffy sponge with a shower gel that made the whole room smell like a tropical paradise, or at least that’s what the bottle said. When you both were squeaky clean and had all the product rinsed out of your hair, Kylo shut the water off.

“Alright, out you go.” He said, kissing your cheek.

Can’t I just sleep naked? You pouted, not wanting to leave his side.

Kylo shook his head and stepped out of the shower, holding onto your hand so you wouldn’t trip as you followed. He wrapped the both of you up in a towel, before reaching into the small ‘fresher closet.

“As much as I would love that, I’m sure you’d rather prefer to wear…” He trailed off as he grabbed what he was looking for and held them up, “Your fluffy robe and matching socks.”

Your face lit up – you and Kylo had gotten matching robes and socks shortly after getting married. They were both black and incredibly soft, with satin detailing around the cuffs and collar. They had the first letter of your names embroidered on the left breast, and you wore them constantly.

Will you wear yours too? You asked, taking the robe in your now dry arms.

“Anything for my girl.” Kylo nodded, reaching into the closet for his own set.

Two bowls of soup later, the both of you were curled up on the couch. Kylo had the droid change the sheets so that when it was time for a nap you wouldn’t have to lay in a gross bed, and had his schedule cleared for the rest of the day so that he could be with you. He was scrolling through the holonet for something to watch that you had seen a hundred times so you wouldn’t have a problem falling asleep.

“Can we watch the one about the oceans of Arkanis again?” You asked, seeing it on the directory of channels.

“Which episode?” He asked, holding you close. You were laying across the couch, your head in his lap. His fingers were idly combing through your still-wet hair as his other hand scrolled, and you sighed, snuggling happily into him.

“You pick.” You said, already yawning.

“You really worried me earlier.” Kylo said softly, as the soothing voice of the narrator began describing all sorts of horrors of the deep seas. He had no idea how you weren’t completely terrified by this sort of stuff.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be okay, these things pass.” You said, smiling up at him.

Suddenly, he remembered something – something he had learned nearly twenty years ago, in another life.

“Here, let me try something.” He said, nervously licking his lips. “Close your eyes.”

You let your eyes slip closed, and he placed a hand on your forehead. Closing his own eyes, focused in on the feeling of the force flowing through his veins, trying to hone in the healing qualities of it.

The force wound its way through his fingers into your skin, and began cooling your slight fever, making you sigh happily.

Kylo focused on it as long as he could, entering almost a meditative state. He thought about nothing other than making you well again, making you feel better. The force responded in turn by minimizing your pain, and he was grateful for its cooperation.

“I love you.” You murmured, falling asleep. Now that you didn’t have a throbbing pain in your temples, it was easy to get comfortable in your husband’s arms and drift into a dream.

“I love you more.” Kylo whispered, leaving the holo on and carrying you to the bed.

He tucked you in and followed suit, watching as your breath evened out. The droid looked at him expectantly, and he gave it a kind pat on the head, before dismissing it.

Not leaving your side for the remainder of the evening, he was glad he could take care of you in your time of need. There was something special about being able to help you, to heal you, he thought as he settled against the pillows.

The galaxy could wait for him for another day, but you couldn’t and he wouldn’t make you, not his girl.

Tagging some friends! If you’d like to be added to the tag list please just send me a message! @fullofbees @spinebarrel@oh-adam @dreamboatdriver @bad–bad–man @thecurlycaptain@bourbonboredom @driverficarchive @aweirdlookingtree @rosalynbair@redhairedfeistynerd @adamsnackdriver @glitzescape

#reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren #sick fic #sickfic #my writing #i want someone to take care of me rip lol

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findtheloveofmylife · 6 years ago

Text

it won’t be long

Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Female Reader

Summary: You both promised it wouldn’t be long until you were back together, but it’s been a year and that doesn’t seem to be happening. Maybe the award season will either push back together or be your final goodbye.

Author’s Note: Okay, so I have had this in the time for a really long time, as you will since this based on the Golden Globes and that has been a while. But I am super excited about today, the Oscars and decided to just fuck it, and post it.

Hope you like it!

Who knew dating could be so difficult? Well, Joe soon discovered after he broke up with his first girlfriend. He wished that his first heartbreak prepared him for his future relationships but no such thing. Honestly, nothing can really prepare someone when it came to love and relationships. You will always make mistake and have regrets along the way. But if there was one of the of Joe’s biggest regrets when it came to relationships was breaking up with you.

It wasn’t a bitter breakup, but it was bittersweet. You know when those couples that often state the reason of their breakup was because of their busy schedule when in reality it was for other reasons, well, that was the actual reason why you two broke up. The problem simply was that you and Joe were just so busy.

When you weren’t filming for a mini-series, Joe was filming for a movie. When you had finished your press tour, it was his turn to go on one. You never seemed to have the timing right. And when you saw each other, it would be less than two weeks and when you did see each other the two of you were so exhausted with your hectic schedule, that you didn’t really do much. You two loved each other and were always happy to be together, there was no denying that, but you two knew that wasn’t the best way to live.

So after a long discussion (which may have lead to some tears of frustration and anger), you decided that it was best you two took some time off.

“Don’t worry,” you had whispered to him, your face inches from him as you both laid down on the bed, facing each other. “It won’t be long until we’re together again.”

“I’m pretty sure you just quoted a song to me,” Joe said, trying to make it light, but failing. “But you’re right, it won’t be long, I promise.”

Well, that time off lead to an official break up five months later. It sucked, to say the least, but it was for the best if you thought about it. It was better to end things in good terms than in bad.

After your break up, you would see each other at times, but it was either in parties of mutual friends or award shows. Your interactions were brief, catching up on your life and always making empty promises of seeing each other soon. As time passed, you saw each other less, but Joe always knew he would run into you again. After all, Hollywood was a small world.

—=—

A new year began, which meant award season was beginning. That year, you had your first nomination which was something you were beyond excited about. You couldn’t stop talking about and you were pretty sure you had annoyed everyone around you but you didn’t care. You were finally nominated for something that wasn’t for best picture or assembled cast or another award that you were grouped into. This was your moment, and you were going to enjoy it.

After so much anticipation, the night of the Golden Globes finally came and you were so excited. While, you didn’t have a date for that event, which was a little disappointing, it didn’t bother you too much. You weren’t seeing anybody, and bringing a date to an award show basically meant you were serious. Besides, you had your castmates by your side.

The red carpet felt like a blur, people shouting your name, cameras flashing around, too much smiling, and before you knew it, you were sitting down on a table, next to one of your co-stars, Evan. Opposite of the red carpet, the award show felt like it was being dragged forever. When your category finally came up, you had to dig your nails into your palms from stopping yourself from losing your control.

To utter your shock, the presenters, Lin-Manuel Miranda, and Emily Blunt said your name.

“Holy fuck,” you said under your breath.

“Damn right,” Evan, one of your co-stars said, grabbing your face, ready to kiss your cheek but that moment you moved slightly, so he got the corner of your mouth. “Ha, sorry about that, but congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you said, still feeling slightly dazed and accepted other congratulatory hugs from the people around. Somehow, you made your way to the stage and accepted your award, receiving hugs from both presenters. You thanked them and got in front of the mike, your cheeks hurting at how big your smile was.

“Well, it turns out my mom was wrong. Crying can take me far in life,” you said, making the audience laugh. “So, jokes on you Mom. I’m going to keep crying. Maybe that will get me an Oscar.”

Going through your speech was a little overwhelming, but you managed to make it through without embarrassing yourself. It did help a little that you made the audience laugh with your jokes. Once you finished your speech and walked out of the stage, your mind kept going back to that you had won an award for best supporting actress for a movie that you had to go through a tedious audition process and filming under the worst conditions which lead to you getting sick for a month, but it had been worth it.

You honestly had not expected to win, and you had also not expected for your former boyfriend to be watching the show.

—=—

“Oh, my God! Look, there’s Y/N,” Joe said excitedly when he saw actors name be called out and yours appeared in the screen. The camera then panned to you and Joe felt himself forgetting everything. Fuck, he forgot how beautiful you looked dressed up. He remembered the first time you went to a movie premiere and you had worn this beautiful red dress. He had such a hard time keeping his hands to himself. Well, he won't be having a hard time that night, he thought, a little miserably if he was honest.

“You think Y/N’s going to win?” Ben asked him, making Joe snap out of his trance and looked over at his friend.

“What? Of course, she’s going to win. Those other actresses don’t hold anything against her. I honestly feel sorry for them to be in the same category as her.”

“You don't think you're being a little biased?” Gwilym said doubtful but backtracked when he saw the dirty look Joe gave him. “Just a suggestion.”

“No, she’ll win,” he said confidently and to himself, She has to win or else what was the whole point of breaking up?

To say that Joe cheered loudly when your name was called, was an understatement. He almost left Ben and Allen deaf.

“I know her!” Joe shouted proudly to everyone around him. “Woohoo! Go, Y/N!”

Ben had to pull him back down to his seat, but that didn’t stop Joe from continuing his celebration. That was until he saw something he wished he hadn’t.

“Oh,” Joe said, his excitement for you dampening a little when he saw you get kissed by one of your male co-stars. He had seen him in quite a few of your stories, but he always assumed you two were just friends from your interactions.

Ben didn’t miss Joe faltered slightly. “You okay?”

“Of course,” Joe dismissed him and then gave him a big grin. “Told you she was going to win.”

Joe didn’t miss that you didn’t thank your male co-star, the one that kissed you, during your speech. So, it had to mean that, even if he was your date or boyfriend, it wasn’t that serious because you didn’t bother to acknowledge him. That time, Joe couldn’t hide his slight relief he felt for that. It was stupid for him to feel like that. You two had been broken up for over a year and of course, had been on a few dates with other people.

After your speech, Gwilym joked at Joe, “Maybe, at the after party you can give her a congratulatory kiss.”

“Maybe,” Joe laughed good naturally. He doubted that would happen with what he had seen on the screen.

“I think someone beat you to that,” Allen said, grinning, thinking the same thing. “I didn’t know she brought a date.”

Joe smiled slipped slightly, not happy that they were talking about you and your co-star.

“Did she mention anything to you?” Gwilym asked him.

“No, she did not,” Joe said because you two only talked if you ran to each other and the last time had been four months ago. He then clapped his hands. “Guy’s we’re being rude. Someone new is giving a speech.”

It wasn’t the most subtle change of topic but it worked since no one questioned him and did go back to paying attention to what was going on the screen. Joe wasn’t even paying attention, his mind kept going back to that kiss.

Something Joe would never admit to anyone, not even his new soulmate Ben, he always figured that you two would get back together at one point. That this was just a passing phase and that once you both got your shit together, you would get back together. But of course, that wasn’t realistic.

So, Joe should not be as bothered as he was. He had said it before, but he was well aware you would go out on dates with guys, he’s seen some paparazzi photos. But, that little goblins inside of his head, kept pointing out there’s a difference to going out with someone for lunch to taking someone to an award show, where there were hundreds of cameras and people.

Stop it, he told himself. Don’t go there. Even if Y/N got into a serious relationship, she is not obligated to tell you.

But it would have been nice to hear from her and not find out through national TV, he thought slightly bitterly. And he went there. He looked around, really needing something strong to drink.

—=—

You were easy to spot. You had chosen to wear a bright yellow dress for that evening. You looked absolutely stunning and honestly, it made Joe a little nervous to go up to you. He had lost his train of thought when he had seen you first appear in the screen, he couldn’t imagine how he would react when he saw you in person and receive one of your warm smiles.

Unfortunately, avoiding you was not an option. It was just rude and also, he just really wanted to talk to you. You probably knew that he was there and he wouldn’t be surprised if you tried to find him if only to say hello.

So, his plan was that he would be able to put it off talking to you but no such luck. The second he stepped into the room, there you were, talking to Darren Criss. Joe felt a flash of annoyance when he saw your male co-star by your side, too close for it to be friendly.

“Maybe I should stick with you guys,” Joe said.

“Don't you want to find Y/N and congratulate her?” Ben said, who had seen her too.

“Later,” Joe waved him off. “She's probably busy talking to the press and then being praised by her co-stars.”

Ben looked at him doubtfully. “This isn’t about Even, right?”

“Who?”

Ben sighed in exasperation. “The guy that made out with her in national tv.”

“They did not make out,” Joe almost hissed. He then cleared his throat and gave Ben an innocent smile. “I will say hi. I'm not a jerk. I just want her to have her moment.”

Joe did end up saying hi to you much earlier than he expected because of course, you had to be with the people he had spent the majority of the night.

—=—

You would be lying if you didn't love the attention you were being given. All the congratulations and praises were really doing something to your ego. You probably won't be able to walk properly at the end of the night at how big it got.

Someone said your name from your left and you turned, smiling brightly when you saw that it was Rami and Lucy.

“Hi,” you said excitedly as if you hadn't seen Rami at backstage less than an hour ago. “Hi, Lucy,” you said, hugging her and letting her go to admire her dress. “You look gorgeous.”

“Oh, my God, Y/N,” she said, waving you off. “You're so kind, thank you. But look at you! You are stunning! And with that award, I've never seen you happier. Oh, and congratulations.”

While you were happy to see Rami and Lucy at the after party, you were a little disappointed that you still hadn't seen Joe. You had expected to find him easily, seeing that you had run into half of his Bohemian Rhapsody co-stars. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he was avoiding. But why would he? The last time you spoke, you had parted in good terms (and even made an empty promise to see each other again).

“So, is Joe with you guys?” you asked, not bothering to be subtle about it.

“You haven’t seen him, yet?” Lucy frowned. “I thought you would have by now. I know he was super excited for you.”

“Well, nope, I haven’t seen him,” you said, not sure how you felt about that.

“Oh, look, there's Joe,” Lucy said, spotting him and called out his name. She had to do it a few times before she got his attention. He turned over to them, looking like a reindeer in headlights.

“I’ll leave you two,” Lucy said, giving you a quick hug and went off in the opposite direction.

“Hey there, stranger,” he said, making his way towards you. “Long time no see.”

“Joe,” you almost shouted, thrilled to see your former boyfriend and not so gently pushed some people to the side to reach Joe. Once you were at his proximity, there was a fraction of hesitation from your side, before you pulled him in a tight hug. He quickly reciprocated the action and wrapped his arms around your waist. You did your best to hug him but it was nearly impossible as you held your award.

God, you had missed him so much. You had no idea how happy you were to see him. Joe being there made the night even better.

“Congratulations,” he said to your hair making you laugh.

“Thank you,” you said and pulled away from the embrace but didn't let him go. “And congratulations to you too. Best Drama Picture and Best Actor.”

“Well, you should be congratulated Rami for the best actor...”

“Actually, I did,” you interrupted him. “When I was backstage I saw him and he was with me right now too.”

“Oh, right. But I will take Best Picture.”

“You know you shouldn't you sell yourself short. This wasn't a one man's show, it was a team effort. Without you guys, Rami wouldn't have had anything to work with. Just like Queen, every member is important and shouldn't be overlooked for the lead singer, or actor in your case.”

Joe smiled fondly at you.

“What?”

“You do realize we're arguing about an award that I didn't even win, when you, Y/N, won your first award ever? Unbelievable.”

“I know,” you said in disbelief, letting go of Joe and stared at your shiny award in wonder. “I know I would always joke that I was going win one of these one days, but I never really took it too seriously.”

“It’s like me when I would say I would go work out and never did.”

“Exactly, or like you always promised me that you were going to stop leaving your clothes on the floor of the bedroom and you never did.”

“Uh, no, I did stop doing that for like a month,” he defended himself but you weren't listening to him.

“And now, I have it and I have no clue what to do. Do you remember what I always said I would do after I one? Now that I have it, I can't remember my last name, let alone my plans of celebration.”

Joe coughed, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Um, you had a few plans that involved us, or now just you and I guess someone else during the night.”

“Ah,” you said, catching his drift. “I guess I have to celebrate by myself.” You then smiled slyly at Joe. “Unless I can convince Ben to come home with me tonight.”

Joe scoffed. “Excuse me, Ben is coming with me tonight. Get your own man.”

You missed the look of instant regret on Joe's face at his choice of words as you were looking over to where Ben was with Gwilym.

“That's too bad,” you said in faux wistfulness. “Another night alone.”

Joe laughed. “Well, not that alone. You have a shiny award to keep you warm at night. But I have some good news.”

“What more can you make my day?”

“Um, another thing was that l I always promised that if you won your first award that I would take you out for burgers,” he said lightly.

“What do you mean? You’re still doing that,” you told him. “It was a pinky promise and you said those things are sacred. Are you backing out on our sacred oath?”

“I would never do that,” he said, smiling at you. “But I bet you have other people wanting to take you out. Friends, family, co-stars, lovers.” He raised his eyebrows and proceeded to give you an exaggerated wink.

“You forgot former lovers,” you reminded him, smiling.

“Wait. Am I a former lover?” Joe gasped.

“No, you were my long term booty call that I liked to spoon with sometimes.”

“Sometimes? I'm pretty sure you're talking about someone else because I recall that someone would get vicious when I didn't spoon them every night. I can't go out in public without shirt anymore because it will expose my battle scars.”

You laughed, unable to keep the charade anymore. “Okay, whatever, Joe. But the point is you made a sacred oath with me and I expect to have it done, or else I will take your first born, that was our deal.”

“Damn, I forgot about that part. What were thinking when we did that oath?”

“I’m pretty sure we were drunk,” you recalled.

“You really want to spend time with me? An average joe?” he asked teasingly.

“Oh my God,” you groaned, burying your free hand in your face. “You know what, I don’t want to anymore. I think I know why we broke up.”

“Because you don’t have a sense of humor?”

“Because of your shitty sense of humor,” you corrected him, poking his shoulder, making him laugh.

“I recall you loving me humor, especially when we were getting it on,” Joe teased you, which made your cheeks heat up. He laughed and shook his hand. “I'm kidding, I'm kidding.”

“Oh, come on, Joe. I know we haven’t really talked lately, but I mean, I’ll always make time for you,” you said, trying not to sound pushy. You were disappointed that he didn’t seem to want to have lunch with you. Maybe that was it. All your friendliness had disappeared with all that time apart and what was left was just old memories between the two of you.

“Listen, I feel bad for taking all your time. You should go and be with your date.”

“Date?” You frowned and looked around them as if your date would appear out of thin air. “What date? I didn’t bring a date tonight. I went stag tonight. I couldn’t even get my brother to be my date.”

“Oh,” Joe said, looking confused and slightly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I just assumed, he was your date.” He pointed to Evan. “I mean, he kinda kissed you in live television.”

“Oh my God. You saw that?” you said, feeling slightly mortified. “No, way. Oh my God, I am going to get an earful from my mom and Amy. I’ve been telling them that he and I are just friends so that is not going to help.”

“Yeah,” Joe said, feeling slightly awkward. “I would find it hard to believe it too since some people don’t think to go kissing their friends.”

“But he didn’t kiss me,” you said quickly, realizing you hadn’t clarified the situation.

“Really?” Joe didn't seem to believe you but seemed to be shrugging it off as if it was no big deal. “It doesn't matter. Hell, I would’ve kissed Rami if I had been there.”

“It looked like he kissed me but he didn't. He was going to kiss my cheek but then I moved so he kissed the corner of my mouth.” You tried to laugh it off, but you cringed at how forced it was.

“Oh,” Joe said and then laughed, probably more for your expense.

“So how’s your date?” you asked jokingly, trying to move on from the weirdness you created.

“No, I didn’t bring a date,” Joe said seriously. “Just like you, I went stag.”

“No, I know that,” you said and suddenly felt stupid for making the joke in the first place. God, why were you being like this with Joe right now? It was Joe, you’ve done really stupid things in front of him and never got as tongue-tied like you were right now. “I meant, like where’s Ben, you know, your date? Cause you’re in a committed relationship with him right now?”

“Oh,” Joe said, finally getting it and laughing. “Ben, of course. No, he, unfortunately, didn’t want to be my date. He said that he felt like we needed space. Which is ridiculous. How much space does he need than when I was in Japan and he was off in Europe?”

“Well, don’t give him too much space or else you’ll end up breaking up like us,” you joked which lead to you and Joe fall in an awkward silence. Great, this was the second time you made it awkward. You shouldn’t be allowed to speak anymore.

“God, this is weird, right?” Joe said, deciding to be honest. You and Joe had always been honest with each other, even before you started dating, so why stop now?

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed, relieved that you weren’t the only one that felt like that. “Why is this weird? Like we need to keep talking or else it just gets weird. Why?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted. “Maybe its because it has been a while and I don't know, I guess it's expected for exes to not get along as well as we do. I mean, should we start fighting? Should I point out all the things annoyed me of you when we were together?”

“I really don't think that's going to make things better,” you said, frowning but then laughed. “Although you now peaked my interest on your last sentence. What did you find annoying about me?”

Joe looked like he regretted talking, and not so smoothly said, “How beautiful you were when you woke up in the morning. It just annoyed me because I looked like an insane person with hair all over the place while you looked red carpet ready. Honestly, it wasn't fair.”

“Mhm,” you humored him. “Poor you having to deal with me.”

“The things we do when we’re in love,” he said dramatically.

“Yeah,” you said sadly. “The very stupid things we do when we’re in love.”

That time when you fell silent, it wasn’t awkward. It was bittersweet. You had no idea what Joe was thinking, he wore a deep look of concentration and when you were about to say something, he spoke first.

“Screw being bitter exes,” he said. “I like this thing we have. And if we’re awkward at times? That’s fine. Better that than us hating each other.”

“Yeah, no, I mean, yes, I agree,” you said enthusiastically.

“Great, so are you free tomorrow around one o’clock?”

“Um, I think so,” you said, thinking of any plans that you had for the next day. “Yes, yes I am free.”

“Great. I happen to owe you a cheeseburger with avocado and I would like to cash it in tomorrow.”

You laughed and nodded. “Great, then it's a date.”

Joe knew you mean it platonically but he felt a little pleasure of hearing you say that. Didn’t matter if was just you two getting together for a celebratory burger, there was no denying you two had really missed each other.

For the rest of the night, you two didn’t interact, both occupied with your group of friends, but that was alright. You were going to see each other the next day and hopefully, things wouldn’t be as awkward as it was tonight and it wouldn’t be long for you two to get back in your old rhythm.

Like Joe had learned a long time ago, you never really knew what to expect when it came to love and relationships.

#joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello #boh rhap cast #bohemian rhapsody

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warpedtourniall · 5 years ago

Note

To help your inspo I’ll give two options for ziall, how about 16 or 20?

I’m gonna go w 16 “Things you said with no space between us” and let’s, uh, [spins wheel] try that young broke nyc au i’ll never really write

Even the breeze is too hot, thick with humidity, blowing in off the river. From here Zayn can see the spangled slash of Brooklyn’s lights across the water, where he should be getting off the L and going to bed.

He has work in the morning, after all, and this party’s not living up to the hype.

It should be cooler up here on the roof but it’s not. This building is one of those rent-controlled disasters, the landlords leaving repairs untended so they can oust the tenants and remodel. It’s been a stalemate for years, with the paint peeling and the hallway lightbulbs burnt out and the bathroom sink in Niall’s apartment not draining properly. When Niall uses the microwave built in above the stove in his postage stamp-sized kitchen there’s a fifty percent chance he blows a fuse and has to go into the crawlspace to flip all the switches in the breaker box, only the light of his phone to go by.

But the rent is cheap enough and it’s down on the lower East, where everything’s easy to get to and it feels like really living in New York. Zayn’s rented room in Bushwick feels like living in New York too, but in a windowless, depressing, nine hundred dollars a month way. Niall’s place is so dilapidated and central that it’s romantic, somehow.

Plus it’s got roof access, and a decent view up here. They’ve dragged a dozen lawn chairs up and now that they party’s going as hard as it’s likely to, they’re all occupied. New couples cuddled together despite the heat; girls texting their friends, seeing where the next stop on a long night of social engagements might be; Harry plugging his phone into the speakers and putting on something indie and sentimental.

Zayn puts his palms flat on the ledge that spans the roof’s perimeter. If he looks out over the city he feels it, that impossible, romantic feeling of being here. Being swept up in it. When they’d all been in school upstate, taking the train down to the city for the day was a melting treat in his sweaty palm, uncomfortable and temporary and so delicious he couldn’t contain himself, and now…

He finds Niall across the roof in the press of people, always at the center of something. His hair has grown out, and only the barest ruffle of blond remains. He’s laughing; Liam has shown up, and has one bare arm thrown around Niall’s shoulders, laughing with him. Zayn wonders if Louis will turn up tonight. It seems like since graduation it’s been hard to get the five of them in the same room.

Truth be told Zayn wouldn’t have come out tonight except it’s Niall, and when Niall asks him to come to one of his rooftop parties he asks like he means it. He remembers something they were talking about the last time they hung out and follows up about it; he takes a picture of himself at the bodega getting the Brooklyn pennant ale Zayn’s been drinking lately. Zayn can’t say no to him.

And because when they were in undergrad Zayn had always meant to kiss Niall at a party like this, and it’d never happened, so he keeps coming to them to see if the pull is still there.

He watches the gleam of sweat on Niall’s neck as he throws his head back and laughs at one of Liam’s jokes. Zayn wants to lick it off.

The pull is still there, then.

Harry finds him a moment later, still nursing his beer, watching Niall. Harry has abandoned his phone to the aux cable, even though more people seem to be showing up every minute, people Zayn doesn’t recognize. But that’s Harry: if somebody walks off with his phone, he won’t be bothered. He’ll embrace the opportunity to live off-grid until his parents send him a new one.

“You’re gonna burn a hole in his top, staring at him like that,” Harry says. He’s drinking what looks like bourbon over ice in a moderately clean mason jar. When he leans in Zayn can smell the cloying scent of ginger ale undercutting the liquor.

Instead of answering, Zayn shrugs. Harry knows Zayn’s got… A crush, he guesses, is what you’d call it. Or, everybody knows Zayn’s got a crush. He’s not subtle, and he’s given up trying to be. At this point if Niall doesn’t know it’s got to be willful ignorance.

“Zayn,” Harry says, in the way that means he’s accidentally gotten too drunk while sitting down, and now that he’s standing it’s hit him all at once. “I think he’d be down, if you just… Asked him.”

Zayn takes a moment, finishes the last of his beer. It would be that easy, he thinks, because Niall likes to have fun, and isn’t the type to make it complicated or awkward in the morning. Zayn could pull him aside, into the rooftop’s sole dark corner beside the door to the stairwell. He could kiss him, and Niall would probably be up for it, would let the party go on while they fumbled their way back downstairs and into Niall’s bed, which is just a mattress on the floor. They could have the sort of unromantic, un-air conditioned sex Zayn’s friends are always having now that they all live here and hate their jobs and feel the looming weight of their dreams. Zayn could wake up next to Niall knowing he took the chance, and maybe Niall would walk him to the door and kiss him, but the more Zayn thinks about it the more he feels dizzy and sick in a way that has nothing to do with the beer he’s been drinking.

“I don’t know,” Zayn tells Harry, which seems to cover most of his feelings even if it doesn’t plumb their depths. “I don’t think it’s meant to happen.”

Because if Zayn had thought in college about kissing Niall at a party like this one, since they all moved down into the city and started what he was still naively thinking of as “grownup life,” he’s been thinking about moving around him in his tiny kitchen, about assembling a flat-pack bed frame with him to get his mattress off the floor, and sleeping beside him, close despite the humidity. When Niall’s working on a film down in the financial district and Zayn is temping at some soulless office building nearby and they meet up for lunch Zayn thinks about making two sandwiches in the morning, about taking the same train to different stops with Niall, about coming home to him.

He’s considering the possibility that it’s not really a crush, anymore.

The music pauses awkwardly as a text tone chimes from the speakers.

“Oh, shit, my phone,” Harry says, and vanishes.

Zayn turns back to the edge of the roof, slouching so he can lean his forearms on the ledge. He doesn’t like looking down, but he suspects it’s good for him. It’s healthy to let the terror pass over him, to open his eyes to it until the lights below resolve themselves. Taxis stuck in midnight traffic. Cigarette lighters. Lampposts.

“Are you looking aesthetically tragic on purpose?”

It’s Niall, suddenly close behind Zayn. He’s gotten entirely too much sun this summer; his face is red, which might just be from drinking, but Zayn can make out the faint fuzz of his nose peeling.

“How else am I going to get handsome boys to come talk to me?” Zayn asks, and watches Niall’s blush deepen.

I could fall in love with you, he thinks. If I let myself, it would be so easy.

“You need another drink? Ice cube down the back of your shirt?” Niall asks. “I’m roasting up here.” He tugs the collar of his sleeveless shirt away, and Zayn chases a bead of sweat down his chest with his eyes.

“Think I’m heading home pretty soon, actually,” Zayn says. The L is still fucked up on weekends - who knows how long it’ll take him to get home.

“Noooo,” Niall says, putting his sweaty arms around Zayn’s neck. It’s entirely too warm for anybody to be touching anybody else, but Zayn doesn’t lean away. He leans in instead, presses his sweaty cheek to Niall’s sweaty neck.

“I’ve got to,” he says. “I’ve got work tomorrow.”

Niall makes a dismissive noise, not letting Zayn out of the hug. “Crash with me,” he says.

Zayn searches the words for a hidden meaning: come to bed with me, maybe. Stop letting yourself drift apart from all our friends, more likely. You haven’t been out with us properly in weeks and friendships take work after college.

“I can’t go to work dressed like this,” Zayn says.

Niall steps back and looks at Zayn: his twiggy arms; the black tank top hanging off him; his skinny jeans laddered with rips. “Borrow something of mine,” he says. They’re still standing close. “It’ll give you an excuse to come back soon.”

The party’s filled right up. There’s nowhere for Zayn to escape to. Niall is smiling at him in a way that he knows means he could lean in and kiss him and it wouldn’t mean anything.

“One more drink,” he says, and Niall beams at him, tugging him by the wrist through the crowd to where the coolers are.

“You won’t regret it,” Niall says, handing him another beer. The Brooklyn pennant ale he’d bought special for Zayn. It makes him heartsick.

I will, Zayn thinks. He pops the cap with the butt of his lighter and takes a drink. I will. Niall smiles big. I will.

#ziall #mj.txt #oops #Anonymous

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typical-trope · 5 years ago

Text

The Great Wheelchair Contest

Summary: Jean is sick of seeing Professor Xavier run into things due to a lack of proper wheelchair design. She decides to fix it.

A/N: This was inspired by all the informative rants the wonderful Madneto would post regarding the issue. Note: There are still issues and I know nothing about wheelchairs. It’s meant as lighthearted fun inspired by the electric blue X on the new design. This was the only way I could justify its existence. There are NO SPOILERS for Dark Phoenix unless you count the wheelchair design.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think we should have a contest.” Jean swung her legs freely as she perched on the kitchen counter with her friends.

“What kind of contest? And get your butt off of there. That’s where food goes.” Ororo gusted an icy breeze at the exposed skin of Jean’s lower back, making the young woman squirm off the marble.

“A drawing contest. The students could design The Professor a new wheelchair.”

“Why does he need one? Is his broken?” Scott had just taken a large bite of his sandwich before he’d asked his question and half masticated food rolled around his mouth. Jean wrinkled in nose in disgust at her boyfriend even as she walked over to sit in his lap.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s disgusting. And no, it’s not broken, per se. But it’s not right.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with it.” Kurt also had a mouthful of food, which sprayed from his mouth as he gave his input.

“Seriously?” Jean asked, wide eyed as she looked at Jubilee and Ororo for support. “Are manners not a thing in this house?”

“Nope,” Jubilee state, cheeks full of bread.

“Sorry, are we bothering you, Jean?” Ororo asked around her own bite of mac and cheese.

“You know what? That’s it.” Jean stole the turkey sandwich straight from Scott’s hands and took the largest bite she could before attempting to finish her thought.

Right when Hank and the Professor entered.

“Aa ee-ahs ah oo ick ih ah ong ah ihs ai-ah oo ee uh i oo ehp mm”

“Jean Elaine Grey, what do you think you’re doing?” Silence fell over the kitchen as all eyes turned from the disgusted men and back to the chagrined young woman who was having trouble swallowing the tacky mass of food. “Really, I thought you had more class than that. Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Hank shook his head and grabbed a bag of grapes from the fridge before heading out again with the Professor in tow.

Silence reigned for another few seconds before the group burst into laughter at the expense of the red-faced young woman trying to bury head into Scott’s shoulder.

~~~~

“So you never mentioned why you wanted to have the contest. At least not in a way that was intelligible to anyone.” Scott was running his fingers through Jean’s hair as they lay on her bed staring at the ceiling.

“The wheels are completely wrong. Bobby’s been complaining loudly for weeks that the Professor’s chair was nothing like his friend Cody’s chair. And that Cody never ran into tables or walls because of steering issues. The current one is more like a hand jack in a warehouse than an actual chair, which just doesn’t make sense.” Jean sighed as she focused on making the marbles she had dancing above her spin lazily in helixes.

“So you want to have the students draw chair designs for him? What makes you think any of them will know how to make a working wheelchair? Besides, the Professor’s rich. If he wanted a new one, he could just buy it.” Scott tugged on a strand of red as he made his point.

Jean made a sound of acknowledgement as she sent the balls back into their bag on her side table. “Maybe you’re right. I just thought it’d be something fun. Besides, it’s not like the Professor could say no to a present from the students.” Scott huffed a laugh as he turned off the lamp next to him and curled around his girlfriend, ready for sleep.

~~~~~

A week later, a stack of drawings sat on Jean’s desk, varying in talent, ingenuity, complexity, and sense. “Am I too late?” A young girl Jean believed was named Kitty stood at the classroom door with a crumpled piece of paper in her hands.

“For what, sweetie?” Jean beckoned her over to her and held out her hand. The drawing was crude, but it seemed like it wouldn’t be terrible, if tweaked a little. “This is so pretty.”

“I drew a better one, but St. John grabbed it and threw it in the mud, so I had to draw it again.” Kitty had tears in her eyes as she recalled the event. Jean smoothed out the sheet and added it to the pile.

“Don’t worry, this is going to the top of the pile. It’s beautiful, Kitty.” Jean pat the girl’s head and sent her out of the room before leaning back in her chair again.

“So? Did you get any entries?” Ororo and Peter leaned against the doorframe.

“Did you do this?” Jean motioned to the pile next to her to-do box.

“We may have told them you were taking entries, and the winner would get a detention pass from you.” Peter grinned wide at her as he told her the prizes.

Jean groaned and hit her head on the desk as she sent a paperclip his way. “Well, I appreciate the effort, but I have no idea how we’re actually going to vote.”

“How about we choose the top five, then bring them to Hank and Raven to choose the finalist?” Ororo shrugged and sauntered in to look over the choices. “Is this just a box? Who drew this?” She flipped over the paper to try and find a name.

“I think it’s supposed to be a pedestal? That seems even less helpful. How does it move? It doesn’t even have wheels? Oh wait, there are instructions.”

“That’s Luke’s handwriting,” Jean pointed out as she leaned over to look at the instructions.

“Oh no. I love this. It says that Ms. Grey has to float The Professor wherever he wants to go.” Peter doubled over laughing at the thought of Jean being Xavier’s beck and call.

“Stupid,” Jean said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not that funny.”

“I agree with Peter, actually. Imagine just following behind him constantly, hand out guiding down the halls. You’d be like a body guard, but completely useless if he were actually in trouble since you’d have to drop him to protect him.”

“I can control more than one thing at a time,” Jean defended.

“While making sure he doesn’t fly into the wall while you’re looking somewhere else?” Jean’s hand-eye coordination was something she’d been trying to practice for years.

“Whatever, I like this one.” She slid a paper over of an obnoxious hovercraft in gold. “Think Hank could manage it?”

“It has to be gold?”

“That’s the x-men color! He could ride it into battle with us.” Peter obviously supported the idea.

“I thought it was implied that Jean wanted a more subdued chair so it could be an every-day thing.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Peter asked.

What ended up being in the top five was the hover-craft, a hospital chair, a sport’s chair, a chair with a spot light and horn attached to a pole that rose a foot above where the stick figure Professor X’s head was, and a chair that looked similar to his current one, though it had a far more padded back, with a drawing of the back showing a bright blue X that had arrows indicating that it lit up, and had to be the same blue as his eyes.

“I can’t believe we included the hovercraft,” Jean groaned. “I’d been joking.”

“Oh come on, you know Hank would be able to figure it out,” Scott teased as the group made their way to the lab.

“Figure what out?” Beast and Raven were just stepping out of the side hallway. The former was tugging the sleeves of his shirt down while the latter was grinning wide.

“We asked the students to submit ideas for a contest regarding The Professor’s wheelchair. You two get the final say.”

“Why is there an air horn?” Raven asked, taking the papers and flipping through them quickly.

“To get the attention of everyone if they’re in an assembly hall,” Peter casually stated.

“He’s a telepath.” Hank was not amused.

“I told you it wouldn’t get through,” Jubilee poked.

“Why do we get the final say?” Hank questioned as he spread them out on the steel table. “Shouldn’t Charles be the one choosing his chair? And why does he want a new one?”

The group all looked at each other bashfully. Kurt’s tail flicked as he scratched the back of his neck before biting the bullet. “He maybe doesn’t. But we all thought it would be fun for the students to consider ideas.”

“Jean said his current one wasn’t practical.” Ororo threw the leader under the bus with no remorse.

“I built his current one. He’s fine with it.”

“Well, but…” Jean floundered before composing herself and standing tall again. “He’s used to it. That doesn’t mean it’s the best design. Listen, this one may have some flaws, but Bobby knows his shit and Kitty probably took cues from him when drawing it. Look at the back. It’d be far more comfortable than that metal one he’s currently working with. Just consider it.”

~~~~

The students all complimented The Professor on his new chair a month later. Kitty was the proud owner of a detention pass for all of one day. The magazines that disliked Charles Xavier were quick to highlight that while the rest of the team were subjected to distasteful yellow, The Professor was set apart by the narcissistic blue. Some extreme news vloggers stated loudly that it was obvious where to aim.

Of course, most of society quickly learned who designed the frankly restricting chair and thought it was cute how he showed such support for his students’ creativity.

#My fic #xmdp #charles xavier #jean grey #scott summers #kurt wagner #ororo munroe #jubilee #hank mccoy #Raven Darkholme #i haven't written in so long #please be kind #scott/jean #implied hank/raven #mutants

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ryouverua · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter 5 Investigation (1)

Oh, that’s just my heart breaking. Why, what’s going on with you?

Is that Komaeda’s bloody song playing right now??? I know you guys want to hammer home the comparison right now but really??? Really???

I get it, it is a horrifying song for a horrifying moment, I really do - but I want to distinguish this the last game and this whole set-up (as well as the two involved!) have me feeling all sorts of Umineko things, so I’m going to lend you some alternatives to go with the truth/lies theme I desperately want back while I read over everything again.

Golden slaughterer | Miragecoordinator

honestly they both fit well because goldenslaughterer literally played when a similar garage shutter was lifted and the horrifying sight was revealed while also having a harpsichord section Kaede would be proud of, while Kokichi would probably love the title ‘mirage coordinator’ so take your pick or look up the original ‘sing the empty truth’ song, it’s up to you .

And the rest of you are here -

I really don’t know how Shuichi’s heart can hold it together at this point. Aaah, Sweetcheeks...

Ow game, okay! No need to rub further salt in the wound! As if I wouldn’t be able to recognize his coat the second I saw it there smh...

I can’t even imagine how Maki is feeling right now.

FML we’re so in sync right now and under the most terrible of circumstances -

OH LEAVE US THE HELL ALONE YOU STUPID BEAR

If.... Monokuma is moving? If the killing game is continuing? I... don’t know about that...

I want to make a Saimouta joke here but I CAN’T THIS IS SO AWFUL EVERYTHING HURTS

AND SHUICHI IS ACTING SO NATURALLY, EXACTLY AS HE SHOULD IN A SITUATION LIKE THIS

Shit, dude. Still, this wasn’t just some stranger - right? Or... or have you been through something like this before?

Compartmentalizing, huh? I guess if you engage with the situation as the Ultimate Assassin rather than Kaito’s friend/potential love interest, you could move forward in the short term...

Aaaah, but just like Maki, Shuichi has another role he can slip into too - though I don’t know if he can do it as seamlessly as Maki has.

Oh??

I was about to make a comment on Shuichi clinging to a fragile shred of hope that Kaito wasn’t dead, purely for emotion’s sake the same way Kaito did last chapter with Gonta, but...

... Maki unintentionally brings up a good point, though completely flipped upside-down. When Kokichi was being the mastermind, Monokuma was gone - being guarded, I’m assuming, as shown earlier with the exisals - and now someone is dead and Monokuma/the killing game are both back on. So... why? Why show up now? Could this just be the case of the mastermind finally being able to create a new Monokuma, or does this mean....?

Yikes, I forgot - he wasn’t just sick, he was wounded. That... would make things extremely difficult....

Honestly, that’s true both ways. I just... I don’t know if I can see Kokichi killing Kaito. He has (had?) all the cards - there was no need to. He would be the obvious culprit - I mean, honestly, just look at everyone now - he is the obvious culprit - and if he just took temporary control of the game and lost it somehow, why would he risk making himself the blackened?

Could... no, this seems silly, but could this be a framing by the mastermind, to paint the troublemaker as the culprit? It would be an interesting callback to the first game, except with the victim being... well, not ~hidden~ in the same way. It’s a bit of an unlikely scenario, but no point in discounting it right out the gate.

YES SWEETCHEEKS SLAM THAT TIRED HOPE OR DESPAIR THEME BACK INTO SDR2 WHERE IT BELONGS

Somehow I don’t think that’ll be a problem with Monokuma back in the fray and also Maki who, let us all remember, has a hunting knife on her person.

Just so you know Tsumugi, the fact that you seem to know a lot about Junko is really making me side-eye you right now. still love you though

ALSO! ALSO, THIS COMPLETELY RUNS AGAINST WHAT YOU WERE ALL SAYING ABOUT KOKICHI GETTING BORED OF THE GAME AND THROWING IT AWAY! YOU CAN’T HAVE IT BOTH WAYS! Though I guess you could argue the illusion of taking the game away only to suddenly spring it upon everyone again would be despair-inducing and blah blah blah but that is still highly suspect -

Maki is seriously in ‘take no prisoners’ mode, huh? I... I guess we all have our own way of dealing with death...

I don’t know if I’d call it that? It seems more like tunnel vision to me.

Well, let’s take a look at the all-important Monokuma File...

Wait, you’re seriously not going to give us the victim’s identity? You, uh, you know we’ll know who it is once the other person comes to the trial, right? ... Didn’t this happen in the Kyouko/Mukuro case, now that I’m thinking back?

Maki?!?! Wait, really?!

I actually said, very softly, ‘oh, shit,’ out loud.

Shuichi’s just trying to pay tribute to him that’s all

No... no, despite how strange it might seem for Shuichi to not want to believe Kaito is in there, I think he’s making the right choice in exploring all the avenues. Maki should know by now that he’s willing to follow the path to the truth down to the bitter end - he’s done that with both Kaede and Gonta.

Seriously though, damn - you’re being seriously hostile? I understand grieving, but this seems a bit...???

the electrobomb

K1-b0, kiddo, it’s the electrobomb

Don’t stick around if you aren’t feeling well, K1-b0!!! This is a dire situation and you have nothing to prove right now!!!

HIMIKO STOP BULLYING K1-B0 THIS IS HIGHLY ILL-TIMED

I wonder what the equivalent feeling for him would be? Similar to nausea or dizziness or something? General fatigue or chest tightening? Fuzzy head, or a migraine? However it is, feel better K1-b0!

Aaah Himiko, you too huh? D: Man, everyone’s ditching us this investigation.

.... Tsumugi, you’re the last one standing. BE OUR INVESTIGATION PARTNER!

I guess??? It’s weird - she really seems convinced it was Kokichi. With that said, seeing Kaito - or who knows, maybe it is Kokichi under there - like that would shake anyone up. Himiko’s been through a lot this game, so seeing her resolve break down isn’t exactly abnormal.

Kokichi really left a huge impression on you. Every time she talks, Kokichi sounds like this impressive larger-than-life cackling villain from, well, one of her space epics she loves so much. It probably wasn’t nearly as much fun to go up against one of those types of characters in real life, was it?

Unless it was a locked room crime, which I don’t... know about yet. Eurgh. There’s only one confirmed entrance - the bathroom window has to be too small to fit anyone through, even Kokichi and Himiko. We could barely see Kaito’s whole face through it!

“Don’t neglect the heart!”

... Reasons to kill Kaito. Reasons to kill Kaito. If Kokichi was the mastermind, general ~despair~, sure. Fine. But if he wasn’t, which is what I’m 99% certain on now......

......... Self-Defence? Or did he die already? We haven’t had a chance to go over the safety feature of the press yet, but if Kaito was already dead.....

Wait Tsumugi too? She’s right there!

SHUICHI!!!

TSUMUGI IS

RIGHT THERE

AND WILLING TO TALK TO US!!! YOU WERE LITERALLY CONVERSING WITH HER FOR THE LAST FIVE MINUTES! OI!!!

Shuichi: looks at Tsumugi, remembers love hotel scenario with her, resolves to investigate by himself

okay, harsh but fair tbh

I am so, so happy Shuichi’s focus is back on ‘truth’ and off of ‘hope’, you just have no idea.

I WASN’T READY FOR YOU TO SHOW UP AGAIN

You’re just mad you got sidelined for the last few days lmao

THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR MAKING THE MONOKUBS A THING

learn how to use EVA foam well and then get back to me, bear

I’M SORRY YOU CANNOT GET MAD ABOUT FALSE ADVERTISING WHEN KAEDE IS STILL PROMINENTLY DISPLAYED ON THE GAME COVER

So the body was moved... whatever happened, it wasn’t at the press along. Makes sense - no one would go in there without a fight or a reason (EYES K1-B0). Something must have happened to lead to this point.

Y-You’re braver than me, Shuichi... Aaaah jeez, I’m seriously not ready D:

!!!!!!

oh?!

.... I mean, thank goodness, but on the other hand.... we’re really sticking this through, huh? But to what end? The person still alive will have to come to the trial in the end, right?

That is some damn deliberate action. So someone doesn’t want us to lift the press... but there’s only one reason that would be, right? So we can’t ID the body, right?

Yeah!!! So why didn’t it work??

I... I have to wonder if the body was living when it went in there, and if it wasn’t... well, we have clear signs of something other than the press being a weapon (COUGH CROSSBOW THAT WE HAVEN’T FOUND YET BUT WAS TOTALLY SHOWN TO US EARLIER FOR A REASON), so that’s option 1, and then there’s Kaito’s illness which may have finally taken its toll. Are we going to have to determine what the real cause of death is, but without a body to look at? That... will be very tricky...

nngjsdklfngksldjf

D: D: D:

I don’t want to lose Kaito. I really, really don’t. I was preparing for it, but I was still going to flinch when the trigger was finally pulled.

But -

if - and that’s still a big if - Shuichi is somehow right, and it’s not Kaito - I really don’t want to lose Kokichi either, you know? He’s been such an incredible, interesting force during this entire game and especially with all the hints they’re dropping about the whole mastermind schtick of his being a coup as opposed to the actual truth, to have it end like this...

criiiiiiiiiinge now I really hope he was dead before he went in there

.... Oh shit, what if the crossbow was crushed with the body???

I said 10 seconds before finding out the bathroom was a MINE full of evidence, hot damn! I lost the screenshots for it, but what we found:

Crossbow

Bottle (poison from Shuichi’s lab??? so it finally comes into play...)

Black Case (so it wasn’t assembled before it reached the hangar)

Talk about a huge turnabout! So now there’s poison in play too? That means there’s a third method - or well, if you combine the poison with the crossbow bolts, a way for Kaito to completely incapacitate Kokichi. There’s no way for Kokichi to know how to assemble the crossbow, and the bloodstain pattern starts here, so if there was a body being ragged the original attack happened in the washroom. This is a pretty pyrrhic win for Shuichi regarding Kaito being alive - we now have evidence that Kokichi may be dead, but at the cost of Kaito being the culprit!

It also means Kaito had someone help him from the outside.... Maki.

Aaaw, Sweetcheeks actually is starting get attached to K1-b0! And it only took you what, four chapters? Better late than never, I suppose!

Did Kokichi call it back for some reason? I’m surprised it didn’t react to you, even if it is being accessed remotely. Maybe it needs a proper pilot to be alert to its surroundings.

Exisals, but not humans - unless the alarm is turned off. You’d be able to do that from the inside, right? In order to get Kaito in there he’d have to have one of the exisals carry him in and I don’t think he’d want the alarm blaring but he also wouldn’t want to autopilot it with Kaito in the pilot’s seat in case he woke up (I have a feeling if anyone could figure out how to use one in a pinch, it would probably be him), so Kokichi going in first to be able to disable the alarm and let the exisal carrying Kaito in would make sense. Not that this probably matters too much right now - this is just me wondering about the initial transport a few days ago.

I have a strong feeling that it was Maki -

Wait, what?? Seriously?!

UH, HIMIKO, WHY DID YOU BRING A CROSSBOW TO THE HANGAR???

I... didn’t actually bother to cap that last post. I thought she was just nervous the way she usually is. That does explain her current behaviour! Is she blaming herself for what happened?

W... WHATEVER HELPS YOU RECHARGE AT NIGHT, K1-B0....

With... an exisal maybe?

okay I’m going to have to separate this because there is so much going on right now. I like how we started with a clear victim but now we’ve got a lot of uncertainty being thrown into the mix. Disappearing culprits and hidden victims, eh? not enough to soothe my broken heart but I’ll take it

#Kaito Momota #Shuichi Saihara #Maki Harukawa #Kokichi Ouma #Tsumugi Shirogane #Kiibo #Keebo #Himiko Yumeno #Ryou plays drv3 #spoilers #drv3 spoilers #i meant to post this last night so maybe i'll post part 2 later on schedule... depending on how fast I can get it done

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