#i thought it would be a nice departure from my usual stuff

[silhouetteonpaper]

DERIVED FROM POWER | CH. 1

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

Summary: Y/N is frustrated with the life being a political figure’s daughter brings. That’s when she’s forced to meet a group of heroes that give her the worst news possible: she’s far from normal. But what will happen when Y/N can’t be the perfect girl her parents taught her to be?

A/N: This is my first fic, so please bear with me as I’m still figuring things out! Any constructive feedback is welcome! This first chapter is a lot of introduction, I promise there’s even better stuff coming. I’m planning for this to have at least 10 chapters, if not more. I hope you enjoy :)

WC: 3451

Warnings: Drinking, gun use, fighting, mean parents

CHAPTER ONE

The girl sighed as the green silk dress draped down past her legs to the floor. Another new article of clothing she delicately placed herself in, now turning back and forth in the mirror to see how it fell on her body. She liked this dress more than some of the others she’d worn. It had a nice v-cut neck, giving her collarbone some emphasis. The straps were thin to let her shoulders shine, too. And it complimented her figure well, leaving the girl dreading the news articles about her ‘scandalous attire’ she predicted would appear soon enough. Still, all the girl cared about was the fact she felt confident in it, so in the moment she tried to ignore her rising fears.

Tonight is yet another party the girl’s parents decided to attend, wanting to keep up their appearance as senators for the United States. As their daughter, the girl was expected to follow them to every trip, public statement, gathering, and of course party. She hated every single one, the feeling of everyone’s eyes drilling into her causing anxiety. She never liked the spotlight, let alone the political discourse that followed her everywhere. Even at her young age, she was expected to have an opinion and be able to articulate her surrounding thoughts. But she never was as into politics as her parents were.

A soft knock landed on the bedroom door, the young girl’s attention quickly being stolen from the mirror. “Y/N, your parents are headed to the car. They said they’re leaving in five minutes.” A woman who appeared in the doorway spoke. She was shorter, and had straight brown hair and brown eyes. She wore a kind smile with her form fitting gray pencil skirt and matching blazer. Y/N immediately smiled at her and nodded, hiding the frustration she felt toward her parents. Only they would force her to come to a party, and send the house manager to communicate the departure in their stead. 

Brianne, the house manager and the woman in the doorway, was more like a maternal figure to Y/N than her own mother. Brianne was in charge of keeping household tasks on schedule, and organizing everything surrounding it. The maids, chef, everyone, all looked to Brianne for direction on when to do their jobs and how. Because Y/N’s parents were constantly working, the young girl often found herself in Brianne’s hands. She didn’t mind it too much, yet always longed for a true parental relationship with her real parents. Yet they cared more about politics than their own child.

Brianne closed the bedroom door soon after relaying her message. Luckily, Y/N was nearly ready. She had blow dried and curled her Y/C/H hair earlier, forcing her natural hair pattern to cower under the heat styling. Her parents always told her she looked prettier when she heat styled her hair, so ever since their first comment on it she kept doing it. It was a habit now- Y/N never let her natural hair show anymore.

She had put on some simple makeup, just to highlight and brighten her features but not too much to make her look too old. Y/N’s parents constantly reminded her that youth gets you far in any industry, to which they were usually met with an eye-roll or unimpressed expression.

Y/N took a moment in the mirror to look herself in the eyes. Being in the public eye meant she had to be a perfect daughter, teenager, and person. But there was one thing the young girl was hiding that she’d never told a single soul about. She had this strange ability, she could move things with her eyes. She could bring objects to her, or push them away, no matter how heavy they were.

But, she didn’t often get to use her special skill, as she didn’t want her parents to find out. Occasionally she’d grab a book from a shelf across the room, holding out her hand as it slid off the shelf and flew in the air towards her. Or, she’d throw the clothes from her floor onto the bed with one simple gaze from her eyes. She knew it wasn’t normal, so she kept the secret with her for all 18 years of her life.

Eventually, Y/N strutted out front of the house in her black high heels, the low light of the moon and front driveway lights illuminating the path to the car. The family’s house was a large contemporary-colonial style house, with lots of windows and pillars. They resided in New York, far enough away from the white house to have some privacy, but close enough that they could easily travel there for work.

The Rolls Royce SUV sat in the driveway, engine running. The driver exited the car to open the door for Y/N, her expression turning cold as she met her parents' judging faces inside. The door closed behind her and Y/N buckled her seatbelt, sitting in the opposite facing seat to both her parents. Her mom looked at her up and down, not trying to hide the tinge of disgust.

“Who let you buy that?” She commented on the dress, staring directly at its low neckline. Y/N looked down at her lap for a moment, watching her words to prevent her tone from ruining the night.

“Brianne took me shopping. You told me I can’t wear the same dress twice, so I got this one for tonight.” Y/N answered quietly. She knew her mom probably wouldn’t love the low cut, but Y/N liked it and Brianne told her how good it looked, so it felt right. The dresses her mom picked out always made Y/N feel like she was either a little kid, or a full grown adult. But Y/N was finally 18, and her excitement to make decisions like these stemmed into the purchases on her parent’s credit cards.

“Next time, get something less revealing. I don’t need to see pictures of your chest in tomorrow's newspaper. It’ll have to do for tonight though. Maybe Stark will have an extra jacket you can cover up with…” Her mom went on. Y/N rolled her eyes to herself, knowing at the party her parents would be too busy socializing to care about some stupid jacket. Y/N’s ears perked at hearing the name Stark, though. These parties were often political figures and their friends gathering, so the girl was intrigued to hear a name unrelated to politics.

The name Stark was familiar, and Y/N’s memory quickly jogged. “We’re going to Tony Stark’s house for a party? Why’re we invited?” She questioned her parents. She knew a bit about the billionaires franchise, and that her parents were friendly with him, but was unsure what business her senator parents had at a rich man's night of fun. Her mom scoffed, exchanging a glance with her father.

 “Stark funds part of our campaign, and in return we offer him some… benefits.” Her mom said carefully. Y/N knew that in return for his support, her parents helped him weave some laws and watchful government eyes. It was further proof how devious those involved in politics could truly be, but Y/N already lacked trust in her parents.

The car drove down some winding roads, following the edge of the hill they lived on that overlooked the city. The night was beautiful, a dark navy sky full of stars holding up the bright moon, matching the glowing city lights down below that never ceased to burn. Y/N enjoyed looking up to the sky, watching the quiet world that sat above her. It was a nice break from her own life as she could float with the stars for only a moment.

Soon enough, the SUV pulled into a long driveway that curved in a loop out front of a large modern mansion. Y/N was impressed, seeing a house even larger than theirs. She was always curious as to why people needed all this space, she never felt a use for it. But her parents and Stark both had money to spend, so she presumed that was reason enough.

The driver opened the doors for the family and they headed up towards the large front doors. Inside, music could be heard playing in the foyer where a crowd of people socialized. The ceiling was tall, a second floor balcony overlooking the area around a large hanging chandelier. Floor to ceiling windows covered the farthest wall, standing behind a DJ booth and a bar area.

An older man with brown hair greeted the family, immediately going to hug Y/N’s mom and dad. “Laura! Paul! Welcome!” His attention was turned to the young girl in the stunning green dress as soon as he pulled away from the hug. “And here she is, Y/N Y/L/N, you’ve grown up since I last saw you!” He spoke, pulling Y/N into a side hug.. Y/N smiled as best as she could, making sure to keep eye contact with an expression that was reading properly. But she couldn’t quite remember him, or how he knew her.

“Tony, the inside looks amazing!” Laura beamed, admiring the interior of the house. After only a moment, Tony was walking away with her parents as he promised to show them a new renovation he did. Y/N was left alone in the foyer, the crowd now seeming a lot louder in the absence of the only two people she knew at the party. As great as it was to see Tony Stark, it wasn’t as great to be at another party alone, Y/N thought. She weighed her options, and ultimately decided to head for the bar.

Although at parties she was usually on her best behavior, Y/N knew this house was full of rich celebrities and individuals alike who didn’t care about rules. She wasn’t 21, but had drank with her friends before without her parents' knowledge. A few drinks wouldn’t hurt, and she knew no one would care- as long as her parents didn’t see. But Laura and Paul weren’t in sight, and the many bottles of alcohol were calling Y/N’s name.

She sat at one of the bar stools, adjusting her green dress to sit comfortably. A redhead turned to face the young girl, only looking up to make eye contact once Y/N spoke. “One shot of vodka, please, and a martini.” She ordered. The redhead raised her eyebrow, but nodded and prepared the drinks. She slid over a shot glass of the clear liquid, Y/N immediately taking it and downing it no problem. The woman behind the bar smiled, impressed, as she placed the martini down in the empty shot glass’s stead.

“Not a big party person?” The redhead asked. Y/N laughed, shaking her head and taking a small sip of the martini.

“Not really. I go to so many, they get old fast.” She spoke, careful not to overshare. She had some sense of comfort at this party, knowing everyone here was famous or known in some way. Most of them probably didn’t care about politics, let alone a senator's daughter. Y/N could be an average girl here. The redhead laughed, leaning against the counter behind her and crossing her arms.

“I get it. I’m always down for a party in celebration of something, like this one.” The redhead told her. Y/N nodded, understanding that feeling.

“What’re we celebrating tonight?” She asked. Before the redhead could answer, a whizzing sound could be heard. Within seconds, a large boom shook the house, leaving Y/N with wide eyes as the crowd screamed and scattered.

“Get down!” The redhead told the young girl, helping her move behind the bar quickly. She pulled her down, the two of them ducking below the counter as the sounds of more small explosions and gunshots rang through the house. “I’m Natasha, by the way.” The redhead spoke, peeking up every few seconds to gauge the situation.

“I- I’m Y/N.” The girl responded, too terrified to even formally introduce her full name. She preferred just her first name anyway, less formalities, but for now that didn’t matter as her name could be splayed on a grave if she didn’t focus. Her heart was racing as Natasha and her continued to hide behind the bar, debris from the chaos occasionally flying over.

Screams echoed through the house, the sound of heels and dress shoes crunching broken glass and debris as people ran filled the large rooms. Y/N’s eyes remained wide, her breath hitching when Natasha pulled out a gun and began to shoot over the counter. ‘Who is this woman?’ Y/N thought, now seeing the bartender become some kind of security personnel.

The gun firing died down for a moment, and Natasha bent back down to Y/N’s level. “We need to go, I need you to follow me.” She spoke, trying to meet Y/N’s eyes that began to dissociate into the floor. She was panicking, her own mind making her feel like her death would come at any moment. “Y/N Y/L/N.” Natasha spoke firmly, putting a hand on the girl's arm.

Y/N’s eyes finally rose, now processing Natasha’s words. She realized Natasha had used her full name, somehow knowing it, but quickly brushed it off as the chaos continued. She nodded, and slowly stood with the redhead as they waited for the right moment to move from behind cover. They darted across the foyer, over broken glass and fallen drywall. A few stray bullets zoomed behind them, just missing the pair.

The girl’s jaw dropped in shock as she noticed there were a few bodies trapped underneath heavy beams that had fallen from the ceiling. After making sure Natasha wasn’t looking towards her, she flicked her eyes from the beam to the floor in front of her, pulling it toward her so it lifted off the body. As they began to leave the foyer, Y/N couldn’t do much more than that without holding up the redhead and alerting her of the ability she possessed, so for now she hoped it would be enough to save a life.

Natasha kept her gun propped upwards as she led the girl down one of the hallways. It was silent, almost too silent. Y/N tried to keep her panicked breathing quiet as she watched Natasha guiding the way.

As they turned a corner, Natasha stopped in her tracks, holding out her arm to prevent Y/N from walking even one step more. Less than a second later, a large explosion erupted in the hallway in front of them, just over a yard away. Y/N shielded her eyes, a few pieces of rubble flying at her with a sharp sting as they grazed her skin. Her eyes watered at the pain, but she remained focused as the adrenaline pumped through her.

Natasha immediately continued to run, soon opening a door that led outside. Down a dimly lit path stood a black van. Y/N’s heart dropped, was this woman trying to kidnap Y/N, or save her? At this point, the girl wasn’t sure- but running back inside didn’t sound too appealing. There were a few times when people attempted to harm the senators and their family, but it was usually easily avoided with the help of their personal security team. This time though, her family’s security team was nowhere in sight.

Speaking of family, Y/N soon realized her parents were caught up in the same attack. “My parents, I have to go find them,” Y/N spoke, her voice weak and full of worry. In the glow of the moon, Natasha could see the girl's eyes watering, her eyebrows caving in with fear. And her arm slowly dripped with blood, but it didn’t seem to bother her too much.

“Don’t worry about them, I promise they’re safe. We have to move, now.” Natasha spoke calmly, yet firmly. Y/N’s mind raced with a million more questions. How did Natasha know her parents were safe? Where were they? Where was Natasha taking her? But there was no time to ask as the redhead quickly sped toward the van.

Y/N could see the dark figures of a few other people getting in the van and already sitting inside. As they approached, Natasha opened the back doors and gestured for Y/N to step inside. She could see a few faces in the near dark, all staring directly at her. “Look, if you’re going to kidnap me at least just tell me. I can’t take any more surprises tonight.” Y/N begged, exhaling deeply as her eyes teared up. Natasha laughed, a few people inside the van adding a chuckle. Y/N looked at them, slightly appalled.

“We aren’t kidnapping you, your parents set this up. We’re saving you from getting kidnapped.” Natasha explained, slightly entertained. Y/N looked from her to the other passengers back and forth quickly, now more confused than ever.

“What?-” She began. There was no time to finish, as the sound of gunshots grew louder. Y/N quickly moved to step in the van, knowing it was her only shot at avoiding a bullet wound tonight. One of the passengers in the van reached out an arm to help her up, offering the seat next to him as everyone inside made room. Natasha quickly jumped inside after, closing the van doors with haste. The car sped off, making everyone lean to the side a bit as gravity pulled them.

The gunshots grew quieter, silence taking over the van as Tony’s house became smaller. Now that the immediate threat of getting shot wasn’t weighing over the girl, she looked around. She could see Natasha, and a few more men. A soft glow of technology came from the driver's seat of the car, lighting the man at the wheel’s face. It was Tony, manning the van. He wasn’t even touching the wheel now, as the car seemed to drive itself with a complex looking computer setup.

Natasha turned a small overhead light on, the back of the vehicle now being lit well enough for Y/N to make out the people sitting with her. A guy with dusty brown hair and a bow hooked over his shoulder, a larger guy with long blonde hair and a hammer of some kind, and a sandy haired guy sitting beside Y/N.

“Can I patch that up?” Natasha pointed to Y/N’s bleeding arm, the girl’s eyebrows raising as she finally noticed her injury. She nodded, Natasha switching places with the sandy haired guy so she could easily clean up the wound. As she wiped off the blood and cleaned the source of it, leaving Y/N wincing, she was able to take a closer look at the sandy haired character. Her expression twisted in confusion when she noticed his familiar face.

“I know you… how do I know you?” She asked him. He laughed, looking to the other passengers to exchange a glance. Natasha nodded at him, beginning to wrap gauze around Y/N’s arm. She looked around in frustration, annoyed that they all knew something she didn’t. Suddenly, it clicked. She recalled the man's face and where she saw him last. The man waited for her to say it, his eyebrows raised as he saw she connected the dots. “You’re my family’s security guard—Johnson…but you look slightly different?” She realized.

The man was definitely the security guard, but he wasn’t wearing sunglasses or a black tux. He also somehow looked more youthful, like his position as a security personnel involved a disguise. The man laughed. “I am… or was. Undercover.” He told her. She lifted an eyebrow, unsure what he meant by that. “I’m an agent for SHIELD. But more importantly, an Avenger. I’m Steve Rogers, this is Clint Barton, Thor, and you probably met Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff. Your parents needed extra security and we were put on the job.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped slightly. She knew about the Avengers. Their names often swirled government meetings or secret gatherings full of hushed voices. They were a hot topic in the political world, but even more incredibly, they were superheroes. “My parents are working with a bunch of superheroes? What did they need extra security for?” Y/N questioned. They were average senators, what could they possibly need a group of superheroes for?

Steve hesitated, looking at the group for a moment before continuing. “You.”

[mitraoki]

Hi hi! I'd like to rq a Ken Sato x Gundam pilot (pilot of a giant war robot, similar to a transformer) reader, fem or gen if possible!

She's slightly older and used to work with the KDF but quit due to realising the problems KDF has caused.

OR! She could have worked for the Japanese army but due to a horrible accident during a mission she could've been injured badly and was forced to retire early.

Possibly low-key sassy and stoic personality that she acquired after years of working for the army, that undermine her politeness and sweet personality.

And if possible, can she wear an eye patch?

If you don't like this feel free to ignore :( But I really like this concept and your writing style so it'd be really nice to see it written out :)

Don't tire yourself out!

😧🪒😦 - Anon

hot and cold. (ken sato x gn! reader)

note; HELLO anon!! thank you soo much for requesting. this is a REALLY good background you've given me, i just hope i've done it enough justice for you🥹🥹please let me know of your thoughts about this! i always welcome feedback <33

as usual, requests are open!! refer to my rules for a better view on what i write (✿◕‿◕✿)

masterlist.

i would say that after ken's experiences with emi and bonding with his dad, he becomes more open to various possibilities. yes he's happy he's slowly recovering what he'd lost long ago, but there's definitely something in particular that's missing in his life.

he hasn't thought about love in a long, long time. back in america it was always crushes, or simple dates but nothing ever lasted longer than he wanted it to. ken sato hates cliffhangers.

you, on the other hand, weren't hoping for much. all your life you've worked - very obviously - as a tool for the KDF, but what good did it bring you except to push yourself away from people?? so you did, not wanting to be around people quite often, so much as to even isolating yourself.

after learning of your boss' potential demise, what good is there staying in an organization that left you completely shallow? gone was the need to remain in KDF, signing the very last paper regarding your resignation.

"i should get an eye patch," you muttered, staring into the mirror with a dull look. it was no news for the frontliners to experience heavy injuries, but you definitely did not expect one of your eyes to become completely dysfunctional.

it had only been a few days since your departure from the shackles when you just had to bump into the well-known, ecstatic baseball player, ken sato in a convenience store. purely out of coincidence, of course. squinting your eyes, you sent a nod his way.

"heard of you," you uttered, stretching your lips into a thin line as you headed towards the counter, paying for the stuff you'd picked out for dinner later.

....leaving the man himself completely speechless.

who were you? why didn't you say anything else about his plays? have you attended any of them? were you pissed that he wasn't playing to his full potential? and what was with the eye patch?

he needed to know more of you.

i'd like to think he'd ask more about you from mina, gaining as much information as he could about you. if you had any specific history, some kind of secret that he was yet to uncover. lo and behold, he dug far enough to find out you once worked with his enemy. emphasis on worked.

a shiver ran down his spine when he read those words. he didn't need to see it, but he could tell there was more to than what meets the eye.

"something the matter, ken?" mina questioned, her holographic screen dissipating.

"oh- how difficult do you think this is gonna be?"

"....i cannot give you a definitive answer, ken. i would depend on the way you'd choose to approach her."

and approached you he did. not exactly, but again. it was purely out of coincidence when he saw you sitting by the window of a quaint cafe, sipping on your favorite beverage.

"baseball boy?" you called out behind him while he was "trying his best to order his favorite drink." his words, not yours.

"fancy seeing you 'round here."

"yeah! well. you know me - super down to earth," he chuckled nervously, clearing his throat after.

but you can see just how bad he was suppressing himself from throwing the biggest questions he had for you. out of respect, you had hoped. nodding, you walked back to your seat after grabbing your long-awaited dessert.

that was - until - the same baseball boy practically begged to sit at the same table as you. there it was. one would expect the fan to do most of the questioning towards their idol, but in this case it was different.

you were no fan, and ken surely wasn't one himself. the KDF doesn't really have a good image going on, after all. it was the slight glimmer of hope in your heart that this man had a pure heart, just wanting to explore what he hasn't in this big, cruel world.

heaving a huge sigh, you gave in. this can go on. what's the worst that could happen?

and it did. for hours. hours turning into days. days turning into weeks. months. suddenly a year had passed, and you were now in his arms, being the little spoon you had desired for so long.

he hears story after story of yours. all the secret missions you'd gone through before resigning. the eye that you'd lost a long time ago.

ken sato was careful with your heart, soul and you. he cares for you like the world's most fragile glass, holds you in his arms like he might lose you the moment he lets go. he kisses every single scar of yours like he was silently acknowledging the sacrifices you'd made through the years.

and for the first time, you felt like there was some meaning. you needed to see this through. you wanted ken sato more than ever now. the way he smiles, the way his eyes glimmer when you tell him something new. the way he cups your face and reminds you of your worth.

it's mind boggling to know someone slightly younger than you has such a vast and mature mind, ready to accept you when no one else has. life had always been stagnant. you wake up, you face the days ahead. some conversations with or without you. unwanted noises that bothered you to the core.

it was just something about ken, his voice perhaps. or it could be the way he wants to listen. he chooses to listen even when he doesn't understand, because this man would do anything in the world to be in yours.

"i don't know what the others have told you, y/n. but in my eyes, i can keep them on you forever and i'd never grow tired."

and those were the words that left you speechless, the fresh warm streak of tears flowing down your cheeks. it was such a rare sight to see someone so stoic, so persistent break down. but even then, ken sato was there to hold you tight, whisper soothing words into your ear and pepper you with endless kisses.

you'd grown absolutely smitten for this man, and i would say you'd never regret a single moment with him.

all created content belongs to mitraoki. reposts/remakes are not allowed.

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 24

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 873

Masterlist

The flight to The Netherlands is long and annoying.

There is a fat man next to me, taking up all my space, and a baby in the row behind me is crying the whole time. I can't sleep at any part during the eight hour flight even though I really should, and I can't focus on Sky full of elephants - a book which you recommended to me - either. Also, I feel dehydrated, so I drink a lot of water, but then I just have to pee every ten minutes.

I feel disgusting when I finally get off the plane, and Amsterdam airport sucks. It takes forever until I can get my suitcase and it takes even longer for the one line (one!) that is open at customs to let all the non-European Union travellers through.

But it's all worth it, (Y/n), because when I walk into the departures hall, you are waiting for me.

You don't care that I'm sweaty, or that my shirt stinks. You just about crash into me and hug me. Then you kiss my lips and then my nose and then my lips again. I kiss you back and I forget all about how uncomfortable I am.

“Hey, you,” I say.

“Hi,” you answer, smiling against my mouth.

You have lost weight, even in just the five days I haven't fed you. Don't people usually gain weight when they spend a lot of time with their grandparents?

You're wearing a red woollen hat with a puffball on top that I only know from Nadia's Instagram. It makes you look like a little elf.

“You look cute,” I tell you.

You make a face.

“It's 42 degrees, I'm dying in all this shit.” You gesture down at your attire: an unzipped, light blue puffer coat, a sweater that goes to your knees and skinny jeans. “Thank you, though.” You eye my suitcase. “Lemme take that.”

“Isn't the guy supposed to carry his girlfriend's stuff?”

“You were just on a plane for eight hours, and we're about to get on a train for two more. It's not fun. Let me carry your suitcase for you, mister macho man.”

I laugh, and I let you.

On the train, I should look out the window at all the new things I’ve never seen before. But all I wanna look at is you.

We're sitting in a spot for four people, even though enough spots for two are open. These trains are nothing like the ones in New York. I expected to have to stand uncomfortably for two hours, but this is alright. The seats are nice enough and there isn't too much litter. There are some teenagers loudly playing their music and talking, but when you're used to the New York transit line, that's nothing.

Your legs are stretched sideways. You are typing on your phone and I want to ask who you're texting, or to say anything to you at all, but you are frowning. You are not in the mood for idle questions, so I wait for you to talk to me, first.

Eventually, you put your phone away and smile at me.

“Sorry about that.”

“Is everything okay?”

“It's just my grandparents. They want us to come by their house right away and I thought I already made it clear that wasn't going to happen, but now my grandma's on it again and I'm having real trouble relaying through my uncle that you've just been on a long ass flight.”

“We can go by their house.”

“No.” You shake your head firmly. “I'm going to save you from yourself here. No.”

You know when I just want to please you, and I love that you know to stop me when it's too much.

“Okay then.”

“Trust me. You're going to take a shower and fall into bed and you are going to crash hard. I only just got over the jet lag, myself. It's much worse this way than back.”

Back. You consider New York going back because that's where I am.

“I believe you.”

I want you to bring up Mitch, but you don't.

I ask: “is your mom still not going to be there, by the way?”

A complicated emotion crosses your face. Then, you go carefully blank. You shake your head.

“That's too bad,” I say.

“Apparently she thinks I told her I don't want to talk to her,” you tell me. “I never said anything like that, but it's not the first time she's made stuff like that up.” You shrug. “Anyway, she's not coming if her boyfriend's not allowed to come, and apparently she's not taking the news that you are allowed to come very well, either.”

You cross your arms, and you cross your legs and your body is closed. You are hurting and I don't know what to say to you to make it better.

We are silent for a moment.

“Anyway,” you say, taking a deep breath. “When we get to the AirBnB, you should take a shower and I'll go out and get some food.”

“That sounds great.”

“What're you hungry for?”

“You grew up here. You probably know what's good better than I do.”

“I'll figure it out then.”

[asherloki]

HELLO I LOVE YOUR WORK! CAN WE GET SHERLOCK X READER WITH PROMPT 18 PLEASE?

ITS OKAY IF YOU REFUSE HAVE AN AMAZING DAY

It's nice to have a friend

Sherlock x reader

Prompt list here

A/n:- I'm so glad you like my work, I hope you like it, sorry it came out platonic, made more sense to me that way.

Y/n is the neighbour of Sherlock Holmes, she lives in the upper flat of the detective's. They both kinda get along well, platonically. They're like the friends that understand's eachother's eye signs, they argues like siblings, they care like besties. But y/n is rather possesive, maybe a bit like Sherlock, if anyone touches her stuffs she acts like how Sherlock would if you touch his test tubes.

The only thing that was different from Sherlock about her was that she was literally a cry baby. And that annoyed Sherlock, well he made it seem so, but ultimately his hand would be the one calming her down by wrapping them around her.

So on a Sunday when Sherlock just got up from his bed wrapped in his bedsheet, he heard his door creeked open, and went to see it was y/n, "hey morning!" Said she all dressed up. He was stunned to see her like that, usually she's in her pyajamas or shorts that are so short that might even gives a glimpse of her butt.

"Hey, good morning, where are you upto?" He asked.

"Oh well" she buzzed in excitement and came in, "you remember Lauren?"

"The popular guy of your college?"

"Yes! He asked me out, Tada!"

"Woah that's cool" he said blankly didn't know what to think about it."

"Huh! I'm so happy, anyway I came to give you this extra key, if I drop mine on the road in excitement, so I'll ask this extra from you."

"What if I'm out?"

"Oh just give it to Mrs Hudson then, anyway I'm late see, you mate". Waving she went out, Sherlock literally saw from the window she was leaping through the road. He rolled her eyes but couldn't help but giggle at her.

Sherlock got a case from lestrade which needed his immediate attention. So He went out after two hours of y/n's departure.

At 8pm y/n came home, she didn't look very happy, atleast not that how she was when she was out. She went upstairs to ask Sherlock for her keys. As she reached she found his door open but Sherlock wasn't in, she didn't like to enter his flat when he wasn't there cause it would be invading his privacy. Baffled of why's his door open she did went upstairs. Half way through she saw her door unlocked too, "wtf?" She thought. This new fear of a thief entering their flats and stealing stuffs replaced her sadness. She couldn't think properly, her things being touched was so frightening she ran to her flat and pushed her bedroom door open, she gasped at the sight of Sherlock sitting on her bed and looking up at her, "y/n how was...."

“Why are you in my bed?” she interrupted him.

“I was sad.” he replied

“Well now I’m sad you’re in my bed, move.” said she almost with tears in her eyes and with a pout. He noticed it and knew her date didn't went well or she's just making a fuzz out of nothing.

"I... I always noticed whenever you're sad you go to your bedroom and comeback as if nothing happened so I thought maybe..."

"Ugh" she said annoyed, "fine why are you sad?"

"Why are YOU sad?" He cross questioned.

"I asked first". She replied

"Fine you win, thinking everything in a complicated way, checkmated me, I forgot to see the simple solution, so you see, my first deduction of a case which I was sure of wasn't correct, though the second one was, but I wasn't sure of it, that much".

"Oh" she said.

"You?"

"Well" she sat beside him, and looked down then said softly, "you know me, I'm looking for love, and I want marriage. Lauren, he is a real nice guy, respectful, but doesn't believe in marriage. I don't know what to do".

He listened, but this topic is not very much of Sherlock Holmes's interest so he didn't know what to say on that, rather he asked, "how everything goes fine when you come out of this room? I'm here for half an hour and I'm still upset."

"You what? Did you touch anything?" She gasped.

"What no... Well except for your makeup products, those are expensive, how much do you spend on them?"

"You? " She almost bursted but calmed herself, "I forgive you this time."

"I'm grateful " he joked "so? My answer ".

She giggled and replied, "I cry here, I'm a cry baby, i cry, let my sadness go and comeback stronger."

"I see, I never done that, anyway you take some rest I better go..."

She held his arm to forbid her from going, "maybe you can sit here, it doesn't make me sad anymore."

He smiled and sat down beside her, "maybe we should cry our sadness out" he said with a laughter. But they didn't cry that night, they laughed over lot's of things, that seemed sad alone but with eachother the burden was light a bit.

[earthtooz]

BRAINROT☹️ THOUGHTS ON BEING CHILDHOOD FRIENDS WITH THE ITOSHIS?? me personally, i think that yall would be close when younger but as the boys started to focus entirely on the sport, reader would sorta feel left out but u still talk to them at like school and stuff but when sae leaves for spain, reader and rin gets closer but rin still is focused on the sport to be able to play w his brother then BOOM sae comes back and traumatizes rin and reader is just torn bc they wanna help rin but at the same time rin is like 👹👹👹 IDK WHAT TO THINK OF TUIS ANYMORE ITS BENE ON MY MIND FOR SO LONG anyway i also want to fight itoshi rin but also i want to fight itoshi sae . i hope u are having a wonderful day!! ❤️ -🍰 anon (also i go by she/they!!)

YES I THINK ABT CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO STRANGERS TO BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS WITH RIN SO MUCH!!!!!!! I WILL BE RAMBLING ABT IT NOW BECAUSE YOU HAVE ENABLED ME, 🍰 ANON! THANK YOU!

like oh my gosh, imagine being friends with the itoshi brothers from a young age but never feeling particularly close to rin bc he always looked up to his brother and was like 'well, i'd prefer to spend time with sae than you' but in a 'that is your brother so understandable' way. but you spend time with them a lot bc of your parents and how close they are.

you basically go to the same schools your whole life, from pre-school, elementary, middle school and high school. since you and rin are in the same year, you end up in similar classes sometimes.

but it wasn't until sae's departure that you truly started to click with rin. you volunteer to help him practice at a field nearby his house, he thanks you by sharing ice cream with you, you exchange mangas and although you end up traumatised by the genre he likes, you both keep it up.

you like him because he's blunt, honest, and straightforward, but despite it, he's still a kind and gentle soul who has big dreams. he likes you because you're great company, a friend who takes the time to understand him and his dream.

just when you think you and rin are inseparable, all of a sudden, there's a rift.

rin isn't rin anymore.

there's a storm in those usually-calm teal irises of his and when you look him in the eye, you cringe at how harsh his glare is. what happened?

you don't recognise sae anymore either. the excitement he left japan with has dissipated, what did soccer do to him? was kicking around a few balls that deep?

the tension between the two brothers is thick and suffocating. you now dread hanging out with them, feeling worse and worse every time you left their house to return to the safety of your home. rin looks at you as if he can't stand you, sae looks at you as if you didn't exist.

school isn't the same anymore. you haven't spoken to rin in about three months by this point and watching him stalk through the hallways alone hurt. even though he was always introverted, he always had at least one classmate by his side, but to see him pushing everyone away just like he did to you, it felt cruel.

the first time you try to talk to him, he casts you aside, strikes you with his words and leaves you behind in an empty classroom.

the second time you try to talk to him, he does the same.

the third time you try, you've given up the nice treatment, forcing him to talk and blocking his path. he only caves at seeing how relentless you are and sits down begrudgingly, insulting you with words like 'mediocre' or 'lukewarm' and although you flinch at them a little, you want to get to the bottom of what was bothering him.

he owed you it. if he could provide you with an explanation of why he ditched you, you would leave him alone.

rin wasn't planning on it; opening up til all of his memories were bared and pulled out of his brain. he was just going to say something alone the lines of 'sae was a jerk' but seeing how attentive you were, how keen you were to actually listen rather than push him away, he feels like breaking down.

despite how cold he is, how mature itoshi rin may seem, he is, at his core, a caged young boy who still has a dream.

a young boy overwhelmed by spite and rage.

you're possibly the only one who understands the depth of what happened to him. having stuck by him and sae long enough to know the magnitude of their shared dream, you're just as shocked and stunned when rin relives what happened.

you end the interaction by asking if he wants to practice shooting with you providing him the soccer balls.

he agrees. a lot softer.

from that day onwards, rin is still the hardened boy he has grown to be, but he lets you close. goes to get ice cream with you after school, discusses the latest chapter of a manga you were both reading, hangs out with you sometimes during school. there's an air of awkwardness around it still, but there's nothing better than the feeling of having itoshi rin back by your side.

then he goes off to blue lock LOL!

[elviriel]

So I rewatched BTVS and watched Angel the Series recently, and I want to talk about my feelings, so I'm making posts for each. First up, BTVS, with my feelings and opinionsTM sorted by season, because for this particular show, the season seems to dictate the enjoyment tbh.

warnings: i am not a fan of sp*ffy or later seasons spike, and sexual assault is briefly mentioned re: season 6

Funnily enough, the more I dislike a season, the longer the paragraph seems to get. ah, the joys of being a hater at heart xD Season 1. I will admit, when i started my rewatch, I didn't know it would be a rewatch. Usually, I watch up to season 3 and stop, but this time, idk i thought i'd try the rest of the show to see if my feelings had changed, and finally watch season 7, which i had not seen. all this to say I did what I usually do which is: start at season 2 xD However, I have watched season 1 several times in the past, and I'm very fond of it. It's cheesy, and the image quality isn't as nice as it is later on, but I have so much love for certain episodes such as Angel and Prophecy Girl. Season 1 has good stuff, y'all! Season 2. I've said it before, but the Angelus arc is one of my favorite things to happen in the history of television, so season 2 is a favorite of mine. I just love it. The Angelus arc, from the Bangel love to the gutpunch of Innocence, to Jenny's death in Passion to the climax in Becoming... Still cannot hear Full of Grace by Sarah McLachlan without picturing Buffy on a bus and crying tbh.

And the Angelus arc isn't the only thing to love about season 2 either! I get giddy as a schoolgirl when Spike shows up - he's such a fun villain in season 2, from his antics with Drusilla to his bitterness re: Angelus to his team-up with Buffy in the finale. I also enjoy many other things, such as Willow x Oz (Oz is adorable, and his little crush on Willow was very satisfying for me when I was younger, given how much wee audrey identified with the local nerd gal) and Cordelia x Xander is by far the most tolerable Xander pairing, not that there are many choices xD There are so many episodes in this season I love, I can't even begin to list them, but the two part finale is definitely a highlight. Gosh, Buffy running in slow-mo in that little blue coat? Life-changing. Also, shout-out to Buffy punching Giles then hugging him while crying in Passion. Gosh, that episode. Episode of all time.

Season 3. The main draw in season 2 for me, as I said, is the Angelus stuff, and while nothing in season 3 reaches that level of emotional investment for me, it's got SO MUCH TO LOVE that I can never pick a favorite between those two seasons. Season 3 has Angel's return, Faith - whom I love, love, love, love, esp. on rewatch. It has the Giles x Buffy relationship in Helpless, fun episodes such as Band Candy, The Mayor being a delight, Mr. Trick (rip) - and, of course, the heartstring tugger that is The Prom - the class protector award ;_; - and the Buffy x Angel break-up. I even kinda like the Willow x Xander hook-up, because hey, it leads to Cordelia leaving Xander, and the Willow x Oz reunion is very sweet. They melt my heart. It might be the best season of BTVS, 'objectively' (if there is such a thing) speaking. It progresses nicely, and I think the only episode I straight-up dislike is the Xander one, which I'm comfortable skipping. Season 3, my beloved.

I also love how the season ends, with the very literal blowing up of the school - ending high school with a bang xD. Usually, my rewatch ends here and very satisfyingly so - I think BTVS worked really well as a metaphor for high school, and like several shows of the same type, it can't quite get back to that linear clarity once it transitions to college. Which leads me to.... Season 4. I don't hate season 4, but it's also very lackluster for me. The highlights are Willow's storylines (Oz's departure, magic, Tara, Oz's return, etc - it really got me this time around) and Chipped Spike, which is a great iteration of Spike IMO. What a fun addition to the group (for now.) But the rest... meh. I miss the high school sets, for one - and the Initiative may be a vaguely intriguing concept on paper, but it did nothing for me, narratively OR aesthetically. All those white walls and military uniforms.... meh. Adam himself is SUCH an eyesore that does nothing for me, and then you have Riley, which. Eh...? XD That's not a hot take by any means. And I think in terms of Buffy's love life, Riley was a logical step - nothing was going to match Bangel in terms of intensity - but that doesn't mean I, you know. enjoy it. Riley is cute enough at first, but he is quite pushy with her even early on - which I didn't remember tbh. To me, Riley's worst season 4 crime was being boring, and I was surprised to find that actually? he kind of sucks the moment he and Buffy become romantically intertwined. (Hush is a great episode tho. I'll give it that.) Season 4 also has Xander x Anya, which, ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I had this impression that I didn't like Anya, but the rewatch made me realize that actually, it's Xanya I don't like, and Anya has the misfortune of being stuck with Xander for most of her scenes. The way he's so Neutral about her drives me insane - it's just an unpleasant ship IMO. Season 5. This is where the trouble truly begins So, the thing about season 5 is that I think it's a good season. I think it's far more compelling than season 4: it's got great stuff! Dawn is a fun addition, Joyce's illness is a devastating detour to reality in a world of magical threats, and I love the "Death is your gift" theme with Buffy, I really do. I also enjoy Glory a lot xD I think she's fun. I also really love Buffy telling the Council to go fuck themselves, that was very satisfying

Oh, also, Riley leaves. Bye Riley! (though oh boy, does Xander's little speech to Buffy about Riley angers me. shut up xander! nobody asked you!)

But season 5 also has the beginning of Romantic Spuffy, which I hate for reasons I can only partly unpack tbh xD it's visceral to a point that is beyond logic The thing about Spuffy is that I can't untangle it from my feelings about Spike, a character I loved until that point. And look, there were already flaws in Spike's inclusion in the main cast. Season 4 works fine, but given the damage he's shown he can do despite the chip, it stretches disbelief that he didn't get himself staked already xD and sure, him being in love with Buffy is a narratively sound way to get him 'on the good side' without losing his edge. I also think JM is great, and as I understand, he was great to work with, and I understand why they'd want to keep him around. But man..... do I hate Spuffy. notp of all time, and i'm not exaggerating. And you know, up until I watched ATS, I thought maybe my anti Spuffiness was because I'm such a die-hard Bangel - but I ended up liking Angel x Cordelia just fine, so while shipping preference does play a role for sure, maybe spuffy just. sucks. I do enjoy some of their dynamic though. The episode where Spike walks Buffy through his slayer kills is oddly enough one of my favorites, and Spuffy is tolerable enough to me when Buffy is horrified/disgusted by it - but even then, the narrative framing of it BOTHERS ME. There's too much 'look how cute, look how funny!' framing around Spike's stalkerish ways, and it all comes to a head for me in the Buffybot episode, which I wish I could set on fire. It's not that I think any of this is ooc for Spike btw - but the Buffybot is all kinds of gross, so the fact that the episode ends with the real Buffy 'rewarding' Spike with a kiss for how he behaved under torture is just- it's so irksome. One of my main issues with Spuffy is that IMO, the writers tried to have their cake and eat it too. Many quotes indicate that the writers never intended the audience to really Ship It, and while I do believe that's true to an extent, there's also moments like these that frame Spike as sympathetic, and his love for Buffy as something endearing, and like, idk. I don't expect my media to be prescriptive in any way (given my personal taste in ships, that would be quite the opinion xD) but, ugh. Spuffy irks me. I also think Spike/Spuffy is highly Parasitic re: the show, and I would resent it less if it didn't take up so much narrative space. From season 5 on, there is no escape from Spuffy, and the dislike I have for it borders on show-ruining I do love how season 5 ends, though, I really do. I find it very moving, and I still cry like I'm watching it for the first time Season 6. For a season that was reviled in my memory, I enjoyed it quite a bit on rewatch. Buffy's coming back from the dead arc is good. I like the darkness of it, the depth of it - especially as an adult who's been through the Mental Health ringer - tho I do think the resolution of the arc in the finale is a little lacking. But in general, I really love it.

I also love Dark Willow, and I would love it even more without the addiction parallels, which I don't believe were necessary, and kind of muddled the whole arc. They had a perfect set-up with Willow's tendency to magic away problems. They didn't need the whole 'magic = drug' aspect. It makes the storyline worse, which is a shame, because I LOVE this version of Willow. The hubris of necromancy! The lack of self-awareness or willful deceit! It's good stuff, what can I say

I also enjoy the 'Xander leaves Anya at the altar' thing, if only because it means the end of Xanya for a bit xD and it's the first time I actually believed Xander didn't just settle for Anya. His regret over that decision was actually pretty well done, so, props for that. (Tho ofc, the show had to ruin it by making Anya 'in the wrong' by sleeping with Spike, which she had every fucking right to do, and shut up Xander.) Season 6 also has Spuffy. Now, when I saw season 6 for the first time, I was younger, and very uncomfortable with sexual content. So back then, the Spuffy sex, believe it or not, felt like Highly Explicit Porn to me xD which is funny to look back on today. I'll say on rewatch, season 6 Spuffy is probably the version of Shippy Spuffy I enjoy the most...? One problem in season 5 is that Spuffy was driven by Spike's feelings. Buffy was just along for the ride, and I feel like the narrative dragged her into caring for Spike because his obsession with her led him to do things for her and her family. But in season 6, Spuffy is a manifestation of Buffy's trauma, and I enjoy that, narratively speaking. I do still get that feeling of 'the writers tried to have their cake and eat it too' re: the shippability of Spuffy, but I do believe season 6 Spuffy was written with purpose. Seeing Red is very unpopular, for reasons I get, and it does drastically 'alter' the Spuffy dynamic for me, but it's not like... ooc for Spike, and likely a more honest outcome to that kind of relationship than usually portrayed in media (I say as someone who, in general, is a dark relationship enjoyer btw.)

Lastly: the trio annoys the fuck out of me for many reasons, but Warren was a chilling villain. Hateful, but well-suited to the role he played in the season. man, i wanted that guy dead so bad

Season 7. My least favorite season, which I know isn't a hot take either. I found it sometimes boring, and mostly hard to get into. I think the main reason is that season 7 made me lose sight of Buffy. Through all of BTVS, Buffy is an amazing protagonist IMO - I love her, tend to be firmly on her side in most situations, and her thought process/feelings have always been easy to track. I feel Buffy. On rewatch, she's definitely my favorite character on the show, period. But season 7 Buffy, I just don't feel her. I do like some things relating to her here - her role as a counselor at the school, and the leader role she has to take with the Potentials, but otherwise, Buffy in season 7 leaves me cold, and I truly wish that wasn't the case. Granted, season 7 is the only season I've seen only once, so maybe I missed something, but I found the evolution from season 6 to 7 hard to track - season 6 ends with Buffy wanting to live again, and season 7 has a Buffy that's very detached again, and narratively, it's a little awkward IMO. I also do not buy, for a second, the whole "Spike is the only one who has my back" thing, but that's my anti Spike bias, which is at its peak in season 7, but we'll get to that xD Willow in season 7 does nothing for me either - I wish her relationship with magic hadn't been solved so easily. Xander is, err, also there - I do remember enjoying the Dawn episode where she thinks she's a Potential and turns out to be. The Potentials are... fine? I know Kennedy is fandom-reviled, but I think she's fine tbh. Oh, I Barely talked about Giles, but Giles from season 6 onward... I do not Like This Man very much, and I miss Librarian Giles sm xD Season 7 also has Andrew - and god, GOD I hate Andrew. I can tell I'm supposed to be charmed by his whole thing, but I just hate his whole archetype, I hate his presence, I cannot stand him, and he's around too much, and just, make him go away. And then there is Spike, which, ah. I understand that mythos-wise, if we can't 'blame' Angel for Angelus's deeds, Souled Spike cannot be held fully accountable for the actions of No Soul Spike, so the events of Seeing Red aren't his 'fault' (using the term loosely.) But whatever the fault, he still did this to Buffy - Buffy, who has to defend him to her friends, who has to help him through his shit, and i just, nope! I won't lie, season 7 Spike is the version of Spike I hate the most. The episode where Robin (whom I really like, btw! My guy!) confronts him about the death of his mother filled me with a rage I didn't think possible. What do you MEAN you're not sorry you killed his mom? You say that to his face? And I'm supposed to take Spike's side and not want Robin to flay him alive, Willow-style? And now Buffy is telling Robin to bury his resentment or she'll let Spike kill him?

DUDE. This is where I need to breathe and remind myself this isn't real xD Season 7 has Faith's return, which I like a lot, but otherwise..... eh. Season 7 is not a season I'd ever watch again tbh. It just doesn't do it for me. The final shot is nice, though.

OVERALL. BTVS evokes in me emotions that no show could hope to match. Season 2 & 3 are immaculate to me, but the highs from those seasons mean that the lows of other seasons make for a steeply inconsistent experience. I don't think the show is ever that bad, though some episodes are definitely questionable, an inevitability when you run for 7 seasons, but in terms of my personal enjoyment? I feel pretty confident in my usual decision to watch season 2 & 3 alone. Though I'm sad to miss the good stuff from latter seasons, it's not worth the Stuff I hate, which there is plenty of

if you read all this, um, thank you? at the risk of sounding like a youtuber, lmk your BTVS thoughts in the replies or reblogs (though, if you're going to tell me you love spuffy and that i'm wrong, maybe keep that to yourself xD)

[starspray]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag, @grundyscribbling!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?  242

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 

597,122

3. What fandoms do you write for? 

Primarily Tolkien though I've dabbled a bit in a couple others.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

A Change of Career

Fields and Mountains Ever Blessed

God, I Pity the Violins

An Unexpected Friendship

He Who Harps

5. Do you respond to comments? 

I try! But it's hit or miss, tbh. I read and deeply appreciate them all, though.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? 

Hour of Departure, probably?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? 

Honestly most of my fics have...if not happy than at least hopeful endings. Not sure I can choose the happiest.

8. Do you get hate on fics? 

Nope, though I'm still a bit nervous about future chapters of my Fingon/OFC fic.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? 

Noooope

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? 

Very occasionally, but none that can't work within each canon--so I couldn't call any of them crazy.

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before? 

Nope.

13. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Earendil/Elwing my beloved <33333

14.  What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? 

I'll finish them all eventually.

15. What are your writing strengths? 

Was told once by a creative writing professor that I write very good dialogue.

16. What are your writing weaknesses? 

Romance, probably.

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? 

I'm moving farther and farther away from it. I'll use elvish words for like mom and dad and stuff because I think they sound nice. A full sentence would only come up if it was from the POV of someone who did not speak that language, and even then I'm more likely to say that they just can't understand than to use actual dialogue.

18. First fandom you wrote for? 

Tortall

19.  Favourite fic you’ve written?

Usually it's the one I've finished most recently.

[amoirsetpacis]

★ --;; Even if they don't actually need the ticket now, Vash is too far into what has suddenly become a charade to change his story one more time. The smile on his face really is a grateful one, despite the feeling of dread in his gut. Asking for favors like this is no small thing, he knows-- wouldn't even have asked in the first place if he thought they wouldn't be able to easily make the money back.

"He does," he says, a little quieter. The money gets pocketed with a small nod of gratitude. "Thanks, Nina. You're a real life saver."

Before they head out, Vash ruffles Liam's hair one more time. "I'll be around in the afternoon, okay? Gotta handle all a' this stuff first." The boy huffs a disappointed 'fiiiine,' before slipping back around the corner and, presumably from the sound of it closing, through the back door.

Out in the heat of the mid-morning suns, clouds of dust get kicked up here and there under feet busy with preparations. Even if there's another day and a half or so before departure, there's plenty to be done. Folks scatter like worker ants; carrying this that and the other, organizing the caravan, trying to buy or make sales while the ship's at port. There's easily twice the amount of people that would usually be milling in the square around this time, and a volume to match.

None of them pay Wolfwood any mind, and Vash's stomach sinks further. He slinks through them like water until there's enough space for the both of them to walk next to one another, but even that won't last long the closer they draw to the ticketing stalls.

Vash tucks his face a little further down into the cowl of his coat; both because he doesn't want to draw any attention to himself by appearing to talk to himself, and because there's never any telling what sorts might drift in on days like this. Plenty of bounty hunters all too happy to make nice with the soldiers from Earth if it meant lining their own pockets, and a fight breaking out right now wouldn't exactly be ideal. Just because Vash has a good rapport with the folks already living here doesn't mean it's not still a very real possibility.

"Look at it this way," he says, voice low. "Maybe I can trade in my ticket and the cash and get a room with an actual bed instead of a glorified hole in the wall." Anything to lighten the palpable awful feeling hovering around the both of them. "Could'a prob'ly kept the hotel room at least 'till tomorrow night, but you know how fast everything fills up." That, and being as rattled as he was, it had been hard to think straight. Better to test the waters now instead of idling around until it was too late, anyway; even if Wolfwood couldn't be seen, that didn't mean he wasn't still taking up space. To Vash, at least, his presence is warm and steady.

"Feel bad though, havin' to ask that of her," he murmurs as they keep walking. Wolfwood doesn't need to know how often he's wandered through this town with a singular destination in mind.

The throngs thicken again, just as he'd thought, and soon enough they're back into a forced single-file. No matter how many times Wolfwood had followed just behind him before, now it feels strange. Wrong. They should be side by side, instead. It rubs Vash the wrong way, yet another uneasy feeling beneath his skin. His fingers twitch, even as he strolls the rest of the way up to the stalls and he puts on his friendliest face. Hopefully the staff is in a good mood.

"Hi, excuse me..."

They can't see him.

It had been this horrible inkling, this small fear that had been steadily growing in him. They can't see him. The woman—Nina—wasn't, isn't ignoring him. Her eyes pass right over him, as do her son's. Wolfwoood sees how Vash pauses and he swallows thickly but says nothing, letting him carry on the conversation.

What the hell does it mean if no one but Vash can see him? Is he really a ghost, or maybe some sort of vaguely self-aware hallucination? The latter wouldn't make sense since he could clearly interact with the environment, so... ghost it is, probably.

So if they go there...

No one there will be able to see him. He won't be able to talk to any of them.

...Is that for the best?

Nina gives Vash a long, steady look. Then she sighs. "I'll give ya half back since you already stayed one night. Only 'cus you helped us recently. I don't do this for just anyone." Same reason why she hasn't alerted anyone to Vash's location, probably. They're friendly and he's been useful to her. The woman opens up the cash drawer in front of her and counts out some double-dollar bills.

She hands it over the desk.

"Little extra in there for helping us dig the thomases out after that sandstorm. Hope this'll be enough for another ticket. I didn't even know you had a partner. Hope he treats you well."

Wolfwood sighs heavily through his nose. The grip on the Punisher's belts tightens. He doesn't even say a word to Vash through the entire exchange, waiting restlessly, until they're finally leaving, stepping out into the morning sunlight. He digs his sunglasses out and settles them on his nose. It's hot.

"They can't see me, huh," Wolfwood mumbles as he fishes out his cigarettes and lighter, too. "Maybe ya won't need to get another ticket after all. That's convenient, right?"

He's trying to play off that awful feeling in his belly. It's not really working all that well.

[megabadbunny]

some kind of AU where Rose dates her superior, The Doctor. Could be student,teacher or worker,boss or whatever you want

Hey there nonny!!! I’m sure your interest in my fill for this prompt died a long time ago and its corpse is now gently crumbling away to dust, for which I deeply apologize. The thing is, while I totally understand why folks like AUs, they’re not my thing (I tend to be a stickler for canon or canon-divergent stuff, with the exception of fem!versions of the Doctor), and after a series of former jobs with male supervisors who were, well, kinda dickbags a lot of the time, I’ll admit I had a hard time getting over that and struggled with this prompt quite a bit. (Seriously, I’ve been working on a response to this for two and a half years now!) However, because I do have stuff written, and it seems a shame for it to just languish away in my WIPs folder untouched by the light of day, Imma go ahead and post what little I did manage to get written over the last 28 months. And here’s the dilly: if someone else sees it and feels a mighty need, I’d be more than happy to send them my notes or do a bit of collab with them if they’d like to pick up the trail from here!

pygmalion’s revenge

Rose Tyler is, in no particularorder, 24 years old, British, white, female, a stage actress, a former gymnastand current runner, a connoisseur of chocolates and films starring Idris Elba andColin Firth, and, despite being a dreadful flirt, just a tad bit dense when itcomes to picking up on signs of a certain nature.

The epiphany smacks her like a handto the face, dawning on her sometime in a grey morning in her tiny London flat.Evidence of a job hunt is spread over her dinged old kitchen table, a smallmountain of newspapers and printouts with her laptop sitting pretty andvictorious at the peak, all of them hiding pockmarks and coffee-rings andsomething that looks suspiciously like a cigarette burn which Shareen swears upand down that she knows nothing about. Rose stares at it all while hersleep-lagged brain tries to decide whether her mouth wants tea or coffee. (Teais the obvious answer, and the likely victor, but sometimes a mug of foul-tastingjet fuel is just what she needs to get through the morning. “Morning person”does not number among the many things that Rose Tyler is.) And while her eyesstare and her eyelids droop and her brain pontificates, even though it’s gotnothing to do with anything, somewhere in the back room of her subconscioussome part of her just realizes.

The Doctor is totally, completelyarse-over-heels in love with her.

“Jesus, Jack,” she asks, withoutpreamble, the moment her flatmate steps into the kitchen, “Am I an idiot?”

Jack’s resounding laughter letsher know that yes, in this particular case, “idiot” ranks very high on the listof things that Rose Tyler is.

***

Rose firstmet the Doctor when she was 19 years old, neither a gymnast nor a runner norsomeone with even her A-levels, working a dead-end job at Henrik’s. She hadnabbed the position in an attempt to chip away at theseveral-thousand-pound-debt incurred by a year of irresponsible living with agood-for-nothing boyfriend. (Thanks, Jimmy.) And the day she met the Doctor, shehad just clocked out at the end of her shift and stepped into the ancient lift,so absorbed in her fashion magazine with some silly name (Belle or Metropolitanor Splendor or some such rot) that she didn’t even look up when the doorsopened and someone joined her.

She frowned.There it was again.

This time thetext was splashed in white across a model’s bright blue jumper—“Bad Wolf.”Those words kept popping up everywhere Rose looked. She saw them spray-paintedon bins, printed on takeaway menus, in big black letters outside stuffy-lookingoffice buildings, on the bottoms of pink and yellow nail polish sets. Thephrase had popped up everywhere seemingly overnight. What was this obsessionwith Bad Wolf, and more importantly, whydid no one else seem to notice it?

“I wouldn’tbuy that one,” a chipper voice informed her from somewhere to her left. “Thecolor is nice, but the lanolin acids present in such a wool-heavy blend arelikely to cause some unpleasant contact dermatitis.”

Rose openedher mouth to politely tell this gent and his posh Estuary accent to mind theirown business, but fortunately, her eyes moved faster than her lips; she foundherself staring at a bloke who, despite being so thin that a hard look mightknock him over, was pretty enough to make her heart trip on itself. Academictypes didn’t usually do it for her (there was something about their snootyvoices and prim manners and patronizing attitudes that grated on her nerves,somehow). But, looking this fellow up and down as subtly as she was able, eyescataloging everything from his spectacles to his wild hair to his freckles tothe ever-so-slightly tatty brown pinstripe suit—paired with Chucks, no less,who wears Chucks with a pinstripe suit?—Rose felt that perhaps she could makean exception this time.

“Thanks,professor. I’ll keep it in mind,” she teased as the lift lurched and lumbered upward.

“What makesyou say I’m a professor?” he asked, mouth twitching in amusement.

Sheshrugged. “S’just a joke,” she replied, but halfway through her sentence, itoccurred to her that the fellow was looking at her in a very specific way, andthat gave her pause. He wasn’t leering at her like the lads on the sidewalk, orsneering at her like gentlemen in suits were oft wont to do. Instead he waswatching her almost like—

Like she wasonto something.

Rose’s eyestracked him over. “I guess the specs look sort of professor-ish,” she offered.“Wearing a suit, too, brown and not too fancy. Nothing wrong with it, but youwouldn’t catch it at Harrods. And you’ve got a bunch of student papers stickingout of your briefcase,” she said, pointing at the worn leather case danglingfrom one hand.

“What makesyou say they’re from students?” he asked, a smile hiding in the corners of hiseyes.

She was definitely onto something.

“Well,they’ve got grades on them, don’t they?” Rose asked. “Gotta be students.”

His facesplit in a wide grin. “That makes sense. Well done.”

“Thanks,”Rose laughed, and she was only being a little sarcastic. “Did I pass the test,then?”

“With flyingcolors.”

Both of themsmiled at each other, and Rose felt just the tiniest twinge of regret when thelift arrived at its destination. The doors slid open, the bell chimed out aloud announcement, and neither Rose nor the professor moved away.

“Well,” theprofessor said, fidgeting a bit in his plimsolls. He tilted his head toward theexit. “Got to run. See you around, maybe?”

Not if I see you first is what Rose thought.

“Sure,” iswhat she said.

With acheeky grin, the professor stepped out of the lift and walked away. He didn’t seemto notice the paper that fluttered in his wake, drifting out of his case andfloating lazily, featherlike, to the floor.

“Wait,” Rosestarted, scooping the paper up in her hand, but the doors were closing and theprofessor didn’t turn back. Rose quickly gave the paper a once-over (it couldbe rubbish, but what if it was a student’s assignment, what if the professorhadn’t graded it yet, what if that poor sod ended up with a 0 through no faultof their own?) and was surprised by the words she found at the top.

OPEN CASTING CALL

And a littlebelow that:

For George Bernard Shaw’s

PYGMALION

At the Blue Box Theatre

Rosefrowned. Open casting? She wasn’tsure what that meant, exactly, but it was obviously something to do with aplay. Had to be a play if it was in a theatre. Right? Was it like auditions?(And if it was like auditions, why didn’t it just say that?)

The liftdoors opened at her destination and Rose balled the paper up in her hands,compressing it neatly into its own little cragged-edged world. She tossed it inthe rubbish bin without a second thought.

…but she didhave an individual thought, on its own, not two seconds later, which encouragedher to pick the paper right back up.

(No harm inchecking it out, right?)

***

A quick few minutes of Googlingshow her everything she needs to know. Jack is happy to supplement the rest.

“A bit familiar, isn’t it?” heteases, looking over her shoulder while she types. Normally she would beinclined to tell him that that’s a load of bunk, and then outline preciselyjust how much bunk that is, but the parallels seem pretty undeniable.

“Pyggies was years ago,” Rosesays in a protest that they both know is feeble. “This doesn’t mean—”

“Rose,” Jack interrupts, gently.“It means.”

Rose worries her lip while shescrolls down the screen. Jack’s right. Of course he is. But that doesn’t makethings any easier. It doesn’t make hurt feelings unhurt or apologies magicallysaid.

But.

“He’s trying,” Jack says.

“What, you his agent, now? Mostpeople get paid for a job like that.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Look, Iknow he’s an idiot. Everyone knows. Hell, even he knows. But you also know he’smore than that. And even if it’s a stupid gesture…at least it’s a gesture.”

Rose stares at the screen somemore. Open CastingCall, it says. Born Yesterday, it says. Seeking ExceptionallyTalented Woman (Character Experience Preferred), it says.

“Those American accents are goingto be dreadful,” Rose says.

***

They’ll tellyou that you should never go into an audition unprepared, but Rose didn’t knowthat yet. Besides, she never really cared much about what They tell you.

(Also, shestill wasn’t entirely sure she was going to audition at all. Or so she toldherself, standing in front of the Blue Box Theatre with a crumpled flier in herhand. Maybe she had only shown up to see what the thing was all about.Certainly she had not shown up hoping to get cast, definitely she wasn’t hopingto see the intriguing professor-bloke again.)

“The queuestarts round the back,” a Scottish voice popped up, and Rose turned to see ayoung redheaded woman leaning against the blue brick wall. Her hair fell aroundher face in curtains, her legs were impossibly long, and the casual way shedragged smoke out of her cigarette made Rose’s fingers itch.

“Sorry?”

“The queue,”the girl repeated, as if repetition would encourage understanding. “It’s roundthe back.” She gestured with the cigarette, trailing ash in its wake. “Thatway.”

***

And that’s it, folks. If you’re interesting in picking it up, let me know and I’ll send you my notes!

[jerryterry]

sorry if this has been asked before, but you have any video plans for halloween 👀👀👀

I actually spoke about this a bit on Twitter:

I've got a lot of very (probably over-)ambitious ideas for the next entry. I really feel that I gotta up the ante here and not tread the exact same ground as before. I haven't really had the best year for working toward stuff like that, but rest assured stuff's been brewing.

I also spoke on there a while back about some side-ideas I had to develop this story parallel to the main vids - Kiss Me's planning brought about a lot of stuff in my head about the wider story of this stuff. Back during Boys it was mostly just a silly project with no wider plans. You can probably tell that by the time of Kiss Me, my ideas have developed into something a lot wider that I'd really love to expand upon.

I've been toying with the idea of some sort of supplementary audio project in the meantime. I had the idea for two series running in tandem - an anthology series set in 2003, and a modern-day series from a different perspective running in parallel (the two would provide wider context for eachother, as well as the interesting dramatic irony of having knowledge of the future). The biggest roadblock there was that the only premise I'm really interested in (an administrator tasked with digitizing and categorizing unknown audio evidence into the Ulsbridge Database) feels like a massive unavoidable Magnus Archives ripoff (especially being British) 😔 There's honestly not much tweaking of the format I feel I could do to get away from that comparison, so it remains shelved for the time being while I think about it.

In the meantime I'm actually working on my biggest (and most complex work-wise) non-halloween video yet, it's a bit of a departure from my usual stuff and the subject matter is very silly but I'm hoping the work put in will really win people over and set a quality standard for my 'main' content moving forward.

While I'm effectively giving you the JerryTerry State of Address: It's been suggested to me by multiple friends that I set up some kinda patreon-like system (especially since my next Halloween video's gonna need a budget, if my plans stick), but truthfully I've been resisting that since I don't feel I put out enough mainline content to justify it. It's been suggested I've got a lot of fun exclusive stuff to offer to make it worth it (a billion WIPs, Harlow even recommended I make music tutorials), I might introduce something like that off of the back of my next big vid if it goes down well, we'll see.

Haha god sorry for using your ask as a springboard into an overall Jerry Update, but thought it'd be nice to just lay out where I am content-wise.

[chilumi-shipper]

Sweet Almost Goodbye

Xiao x Fem!Reader

Tags: Angst to Fluff

Sumary: Xiao had no plans to ever have a family of his own. Finding out that you are pregnant with his baby set him on edge, unsure. He's not ready.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

How are you suppose to tell him?

The news brought shock and surprise to you, it made you a bit excited and nervous.

What would Xiao think?

How will he take the news?

The thought of what his reaction may be formed a pit in your stomach. There you were, going up by the elevator of Wangshu Inn, as the sun was setting.

The closer you get to your destination, the uneasiness grew. What would happen if he lashes out? What would happen if he asked you to leave?

With a sigh, you walked up the stair that would lead to where your lover usually stays.

As you looked upon the view that the balcony provided, you saw that the sun was no longer visible, the stars starting to show up.

"You've arrived." Your heart swell at the voice of your lover, a smile forming on your face. Looking back at him, he eagerly walked up to you and greeted you with a gentle hug.

The first few weeks of your relationship was quite awkward, back then he could not even hold your hand without being as stiff as a board.

"Can I hug you?"

"I don't think that's necessary."

"But... I really want to."

"I am... not familiar with mortal rituals. I would not be the best for those kind of activities."

"Pfft... It's just a hug, Xiao. Plus you do these 'mortal rituals' with people you love. Now come here, silly Yaksha."

And surely enough, your first hug was not very comfortable, but it was a moment you would never forget.

Pulling away from the hug, you sighed heavily. Xiao did of course noticed the change in your attitude.

Where is that bubbly, cheerful, all smiles Y/N that he has grown to love?

Something must be off.

You looked down, how do you start off?

The silence filled the atmosphere with tension. Your hands started to shake.

"You seem like you're not yourself today." Xiao had broken the silence, something he usually doesn't do.

Looking up into his eyes, you grabbed both his hands in yours. "There's this very important thing that I need to tell you." Your grip on him tightened, hoping for him not to disappear.

His face showed confusion and somewhat worry, the look on your face told him that the matter was serious.

"You know how lovers would slowly grow? How they would be faced with many things and challenges in life together?" You started, not knowing exactly what to say. Through his confusion, he nodded.

"Well.... we may be going through one of those things." You whispered in a hushed tone. He didn't get it.

Was something wrong?

Has something happened that would affect your relationship?

"Xiao..." You silently called out his name.

"I'm... well..." You felt his hand squeeze yours, silently telling you to just say it.

"I'm pregnant."

He let go of your hands immediately, and your heart ached at his action.

Oh no...

He let out a chuckle. Slightly backing away, looking at you with an expression that had your eyes swelling with unshed tears.

"S-surely this has to be a joke." Xiao said in a quiet voice.

'What was that supposed to mean?' His words sent needles to your heart.

"We're gonna have a baby, Xiao." You said stepping closer to him, but he raised his hand, telling you to stop.

You held your hands to your chest, your heart pounding so fast. "It means that our love has blossomed."

"No." Xiao turned his back on you. "I didn't.... I didn't want this."

"X-xiao?" You stuttered, he surely didn't mean that right? He loves you, you loves him. Sure it wasn't expected, but you promised yourself to welcome your baby with open arms, teach them, show them the good in the world, love them with all your heart.

"I never wanted to start a family." He looked back at you, frustration in his eyes. "I thought that it would just be you and me. I didn't want a... a burden!" His words shocked you, a mix of emotion swirled inside you, pain, frustration, dissapointment.... anger.

How dare he say that about your baby?!

"Xiao, this is your child your talking about!" Tears started to fall from your eyes, staining your cheeks. "Why would you say that?!"

No, it doesn't matter how much you love him, he doesn't get to say those things about your baby. You believed that your baby is special, and you're not going to stand for the bastard you love to tell you that they are nothing but a burden.

"How could you?!" You stomped closer to him, your hands balled into a fist. "Here I thought that you are so amazing. That you're not the murderer that you claimed yourself to be."

You let put a sob.

"But no!"

You punched his chest.

"You don't deserve to be loved!"

Punch.

"You don't deserve to be happy!"

Punch

"You don't deserve a family that will love you."

You throw a weak puch at his chest, letting more of your tears fall as you sobbed.

He held you wrists pushing you back a bit to look up at him with your glossy eyes. What hurt even more is that he seemed unfazed, unaffected.

"I don't need you to tell me what I don't deserve. You're right, I don't deserve those things." He calmly said, letting go of your wrists. "And I... would feel at ease if you just leave." Before you could even respond, he vanished, leaving you to break down onto the floor, covering your mouth to silence your sobs.

He left you with tears and a broken heart.

2 Months Later

Your mother has been very helpful in taking care of you and your baby. Giving you tips and advice for a healthy pregnancy. You now stayed your parents' house in Qingce Village, a more quieter place than the Harbour.

You had told her of what happened between you and your 'previous lover' two months ago, crying into her arms as she saw you on your heartbroken state. Your father was not at all happy with Xiao's wrong doings towards you.

But you reassured your parents that it no longer matters, what matters now is your baby being well taken care of. And with that, you must take care of yourself as well. So no thinking about that Adeptus bastard.

In Wangshu Inn however, Xiao has felt that your departure has left a hole in his heart, everyday, every night alone on the balcony of the Inn, the place that you two once shared as a place to openly be together and express your love towards each other.

He would sometimes look at the guests of the Inn at the ground floor. He would see families spending time together, all smiles and happiness. Is that what it's like to have a family?

Sure, family comes with it's problems and such. But... it's family, people that will be your home and happiness.

Verr Goldet has noticed that you no longer go to the Inn and the Adeptus has grown more melancholic than usual. Something was definitely wrong between that two of you, she would think.

Xiao would look at the view provided by the balcony. He admits that he was looking for you from there, maybe you would come back to him. But he caught no sight of you.

Every time he would go out, he told himself that its to "scare off evil and cleanse the land", but he just used that as an excuse to look for you.

He found you, of course, since you aren't really hiding from him. But, even then, what would he say? Of course he should apologize, but how? He doesn't know any of that stuff.

But he has to make a decision....

"Alright, Y/N. Why don't you have a little rest while your father and I go to the village square?" You just nodded as they exit the house. Some alone time would be nice.

You were standing in front of a full body mirror in your room, shirt rolled up to show your baby bump. You were thinking about names for your baby just earlier. Even though it's gonna be a few months till they're ready, you just find naming them makes you smile.

"How about, if your a girl, I'll name you... Crystal? Or maybe Rose? Or Amethyst!" You laughed a little, seemingly having a conversation with your unborn baby. " But if your a boy... Hmmm...." You caressed your baby bump.

"I haven't thought about anything yet, but I'll tell you when I do, baby." You whispered with a smile.

Then, suddenly a green and black smoke appeared and revealed a person that made your smile drop.

"Y/N" Xiao quietly called out your name, looking at your eyes through the mirror. Sighing, you pulled down your shirt and turned back to face him.

He looked down at your stomach, his heart swelling at imagining that a baby is inside you, your and his baby is inside you.

"Didn't think I'd see you again." You let out a bitter laugh, making the man in front of you wince a little. "What are you doing here?" You asked with a rather harsh tone.

"I mean no harm." He started looking at you with a sense of nervousness within him, your unexpressive gaze made him feel crushed.

"I just want to apologize. And see how you and our baby are doing." He seemed to be hesitant in reaching out to hold you. But you, you were seething, did he just say 'our'?

He acted so childish, so cold and now he came back to apologize and immediately think that all will be fixed.

"Y/N..." You were pulled out of your thoughts by his call, you looked back at him with a glare. "I... love you. So so much." He stepped closer but this time, you raised your hand up and stopped him. "I wasn't ready, I was scared of what's gonna happen." Xiao added.

"I was scared too." Your eyes started to become glossy. "But I thought that you would be there." You looked up to him with your teary eyes, showing him your vulnerability once again. "I was wrong." You shook you head, his features softened and you notice the tears start to form in his eyes as well. "I shouldn't have expected too much. It's for the better we split up rather than stay in a relationship that will no longer contain love."

"If you're here for closure, Xiao. I can assure you that me and my baby will be just fine." You smiled despite the tear that managed to fall out of your eye.

He shook his head, quickly taking a hold of your hands and kneeling onto the floor. "Xiao, what are yo-"

"Please..." He brought your hands to his lips kissing them gently, you felt a few of his tears fall onto your hands. "Please forgive me. I'm truly sorry, my love." He was full on crying. You tried to take your hand back, but he didn't let you.

Still, the thought of you wanting to pull away from him made his heart ache. He didn't wanna let go of your hands. "I'm sorry about everything I said about our baby. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He kept repeating over and over. "I'm so stupid! I can just never treasure things that are important to me!" He felt frustrated of himself.

"Xiao, stop!" You demanded, pulling him back up to his feet. Once he looked at you, your heart clenched at the sight of his tear covered face, his hair messier than usual, his eyes held pain and regret.

"W-what exactly do you want?" You stuttered, rubbing your thumb along his knuckles. "D-do you want me to just forgive you... and then you'd walk away?"

He shook his head. "I-i want you." He whispered, coming closer, he hugged you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"I want our baby." He pulled away, kissing you forehead.

"I want my happiness." Then his kissed your nose.

"I want my family, my everything." He then kissed your lips, the feeling of his soft lips on yours felt refreshing, something you didn't know you missed due to all the other emotions inside you. You both pulled away to catch your breath.

"Please, let me have my family."

"Oh, Xiao..." You caressed his cheek, feeling the wet tears that had fallen from his amber eyes. "We're here, we're your family." You both looked down at your baby bump, both of you smilling.

One Hour Later

As you and Xiao cuddled on the couch together and silently whispered sweet words to one another, the door opened, your parents walking in and were shocked to see the Adeptus and you snuggling.

"Aha! I see that you're the one who broke my babygirl's heart!" Your father exclaimed, much to your surprise.

"Xiao was it. Now I don't care if you two already made up. I'm still gonna talk to you about how to properly treat my baby." You laughed when Xiao let go of you and sat up straight.

You were surprised that he didn't pull the 'no respect for the Adepti' card.

"Papaaaaa." You whined as your father led Xiao into the kitchen to talk.

Your mother sat beside you and looked at your face. "I see that you two have been crying." She caressed your cheek.

"I'm just really happy right now."

[daddysfangirls-anime]

Young Aizawa

summary:  my hero academia One shot where Aizawa brings his 3yrs old kid into school and hangs out with 1-A? cute moments with Todoroki and Bakugo?

As Class 1-A stood in formation in front of their teacher the one thing they were all thinking was. Who’s the kid? They could already guess that the child had some relation to Aizawa the dark hair, sleeping bag, and tired ‘I’d rather be sleeping than here’ look. Heck the kid was almost a carbon copy of him the only things telling them apart was their clothes he was decked out in black she looked like a kitty cat rainbow threw up on her.

“Everyone listens up, I’ve got a little class project. Really this is a project for Todoroki and Bakugo but I want the rest of you to assist them if needed.” Bakugo was a bit irritated right now he had planned to spend the day training he hoped whatever this was would go by quickly so he could get on with his training. Todoroki didn’t really care he didn’t have plans for the day.

“As you failed the second half of your pro-hero licensing exam due to your inability to work in teams and interact properly with civilians. This is for you two. This is my three-year-old daughter (Y/n). Your assignment watching her for the day.”

“WHAT?!”

The entire class screamed they were shocked one that Aizawa actually had a child and two that they’d have to be watching her for the day. They had a million and one questions but Aizawa wasn’t up for answering them looking at his daughter he looks her up and down then looks back at the class.

“Good Luck”

And with that Aizawa quickly left before his daughter could fully comprehend what he said or done. While she was trying busy comprehending the class was busying arguing about their teacher dumping a kid on them.

“Everyone calms down, we can handle this” Iida said trying to calm everyone down.

“We?!” Bakugo says “ Aizawa gave her to us we’ll handle the brat the rest of you can go to hell.”

“AAAAHHHHH” Midoriya suddenly screamed rushing to the door. It was then that everyone realized that while they were discussing (Y/n) she walked right out the front door.

“W-where are you going?” Midoriya asks a bit panicked but trying to stay calm.

“Daddy” is all she says as she continues walking down the sidewalk where she thought she saw her father walk off too.

“um... w-well-”

“Oi brat your old man is gone he left you here,” Bakugo says as he takes her hand and leads her back towards the dorms.

“Why?” she asks

“Because he had some important stuff to do, I don’t know.”

“he comes back, right?”

“he better I’m not spending the night taking care of a brat.”

“who’s a brat?”

“you’re the brat”

“oh...sorry “ she pouts.

The females in the classroom were not having this separating (Y/n) from Bakugo they began to scold him for being mean to him. And telling him how he should treat her.

(Y/n) stood off to the side not really knowing what to do. “ He means well he’s just... a bit rough” Todoroki said as he squat down next to her “ do you want a snack?” she nodded. Taking her hand Todoroki led her to the kitchen for some ice cream no one even noticed the departure.

“This is coming much don’t you think” Midoriya said as he sat between (Y/n) and Todoroki eating his own ice cream as they sat on the floor watching Bakugo argue the girls in their class. This had been going on for the last 10 minutes. Just when they thought it was over Bakugo would say something and the argument would start up again.

“Why is he so mean?” (Y/n) asked

““Bakugo isn’t -he’s not....I don’t know” Midoriya said he really couldn’t defend his friend when he was acting like that.

“Enough” Iida said stepping between Bakugo and the females in the classroom. “ we are setting a bad example for Young Aizawa.”

Everyone turned to look at (Y/n) who was sitting on the floor eating ice cream with Midoriya and Todoroki. She was making Todoroki taste her ice cream tell him hers was better than his.

“Sensei has left us in charge of her so we must treat her with the up most care.”

“You’re being a bit dramatic” Denki said a few of them sweat dropping at Iida over exaggerated hand movement, more exaggerated than usually at least.

Ochaco walked over and kneel in front of (Y/n) “ Hi-” Before she could even get a word out Bakugo walked up and pushed her out of the way.

“Oi, what do you want to do?” he asked

She thought for a moment looking at her melting ice cream. “ Sleep”

Everyone sweat drop she was so like her father. With a nod Bakugo left the room a moment later he returned with a sleeping bag “Here” Shoving the last bit of her ice cream in her mouth she takes the sleeping bag and hops in. (Y/n) then flops on the floor and caterpillar crawls until she is underneath the coffee table  where she stops.

The class sweat drops as they hear her light snoring. She’s just like her father.

“Do we just leave her there?” Ojiro asked a bit concerned for the child sleeping under the table in the middle of the room.

“I don’t think that’s safe” Momo says

“Maybe we should move her”Midoriya comments

“OI SHUT THE HELL UP SHE’S SLEEPING” Bakugo shouts he takes a seat on the couch and turns on the TV turning the volume very low. He hears whispers he turns around glaring and growling at them everyone shut up. And for the remainder of the day no one spoke above a whisper.

-

“YO” Mic stepped into the dorms with Aizawa and All Might his shouting was followed up by a book to the face and a very loud ‘SHHHHH’. Everyone pointed to the Coffee table stepping forward Aizawa sees his daughter sleeping underneath the table he sighs.

“How long has she been asleep?” he asks in a whisper Todoroki ignoring Bakugo’s heated glare.

“Since you left. I gave her some ice cream, I hope that’s okay, Bakugo gave her a sleeping bag and she crawled under the table. She’s been asleep ever since. “

“Bakugo has threaten to kill anyone who’s voice goes above a whisper. It’s been pretty quiet.” Denki said Bakugo threw a book at the back of his head. He was too loud.

“Thank you for watching her for the day. I’ll take her now” Aizawa said as sqauted by the table and began to poke his young daughter “ Wake up, sweetheart, time to go home.”

“Daddy no” Shew whined as he pulled her out from underneath the table she cringed at the bright light and pulled the sleeping bag over her eyes.

“Yo mini-Aizawa” Mic said recovering from his assault.

“lower your freaking voice” Bakugo said, very loudly at that.

“I am elder, I am your teacher you should respect me.” Mic said poking Bakugo’s forehead. Bakugo picked up a book and he flinched “ You can’t assault a teacher”

“Then learned to lower your god damn voice. You’re going to wake her up. Teacher or not Who ever wakes her up is dead” Bakugo threaten sending a shiver down Mic’s spine having him retreat behind All Might. Who was just watching the scene unfold.

“Aww, I think young Bakugo has grown a soft spot for Young Aizawa” All Might teased watching a light blushed dusted the boys cheeks. He threw a book but All Might dodged it. With a growl Bakugo stomped off.

“Thank you, again.” Aizawa says pulling (Y/n) out of the sleeping bag and into his arms “ Maybe I’ll let you guys babysit again”

“I thought this was an assignment” Iida said. Aizawa gave him a look that translated to ‘ you actually believed that shit’ before completely ignoring him and waving goodbye and walking out.

It wasn’t until he was a good distance from the dorms that he spoke up.

“What was that? You were suppose to give them a hard time.”

“I’m sorry daddy. They were so nice. Todoroki gave me ice cream. And Bakugo gave him a sleeping bag it was real comfortable. I fell asleep.” (Y/n) said as she looked at her father. Today’s plan was for her to wreck havoc on the dorms and challenge the student you know being a typical brat and messing things up. But (Y/n) was just an angel and couldn’t find it in herself to be a bad girl.

“So precious” Mic gushed

“It’s okay. You did fine. Did you have fine while you were wake at least?”

She thought for a moment tapping her chin cutely “Midoriya cried. Bakugo’s loud but funny. I’m going to marry Todoroki.”

“That’s nice” double take “wait ....What?!”

[blackstarising]

coming back to this post i made again to elaborate - especially as the ted lasso fandom is discussing sam/rebecca and fandom racism in general. there are takes that are important to make that i had failed to previously, but there's also a growing amount of takes that i have to, As A Black Person™, respectfully disagree with.

tl;dr for the essay below sam being infantilized and the sam/rebecca relationship are not the same issue and discussing the former one doesn't mean excusing the latter. and we've reached the glen of the Dark Forest where we sit down and talk about fandom racism.

i should have elaborated this in my last post about sam/rebecca, but i didn't. i'll say it now - i personally don't support sam and rebecca getting together for real. i believe what people are saying is entirely correct, even though sam is an adult legally, he and rebecca are, at the very least, two wildly different stages of life. for americans, he's at the equivalent of being a junior in college. there are things he hasn't gotten the chance to experience and there are areas he needs to grow in. when i was younger, i didn't understand the significance of these age gaps, i just thought it would be fine if it was legal, but as someone who is now a little older than sam in universe, i understand fully. we can't downplay this. whether or not you think sam works for rebecca or not, even despite the gender inversion of the Older Man Younger Woman trope, whether or not he is a legal adult, i don't think at this point in time, their relationship would work. i think it's an interesting narrative device, but i don't want to see it play out in reality.

that being said!

what's worrying me is that two discussions are being conflated here that shouldn't be. sam having agency and being a little more grown™ than he's perceived to be does not suddenly make his relationship with rebecca justified. i had decided to bring it up because sam was being brought into the spotlight again and i was starting to realizing that his infantilization was more common than i felt comfortable with.

sam's infantilization (and i will continue to call it that), is a microaggression. it's is in the range of microaggressions that i would categorize as 'fandom overcompensation'. we have a prominent character of color that exhibits traits that aren't stereotypical, and we don't want to appear racist or stereotypical, so we lean hard in the other direction. they're not aggressive, they're a Sweet Baby, they're not world weary, they're now a little naive. they're not cold and distant, they're so nice and sweet that there's no one that wouldn't want approach them, and yeah, on their face, these new traits are a departure and, on their face, they seem they look really good.

but at a certain point, it reaches an inflection point, and, like the aftertaste of a diet coke, that alleged sweetness veers into something a lot less sweet. it veers into a lack of agency for the character. it veers into an innocence that appears to indicate that the person can't even take care of themselves. it veers into a one-dimensional characterization that doesn't allow for any depth or negative emotion.

it's not kind anymore. it's not a nice departure from negative stereotypes. it's not compensating for anything.

it's patronizing.

it is important that we emphasize that characters of color are more than the toxic stereotypes we lay on them, yes, but we make a mistake in thinking that the solution is overcorrection. for one thing, people of color can usually tell. don't get it twisted, it's actually pretty obvious. for another, it just shifts from one dimension to another. people of color are still supposed to be Only One Character Trait while white people can contain multitudes. ted, who is pretty much as pollyanna as they come, can be at once innocent and naive and deep and troubled and funny and scared. jamie can be a prick and sexy and also lonely and also a victim of abuse. sam, however, even though he was bullied (by jamie, no less), is thousands of miles away from home, and has led a protest on his team, is usually just characterized as human sunshine with much less acknowledgement of any other traits beyond that.

and that's why i cringe when fandom calls sam a Sweet Baby Boy without any sense of irony. is that all we're taking away? after all this time? even for a comedy, sam has received a substantive of screen time over two whole seasons, and we've seen a range of emotions from him. so as a black person it's hurtful that it's boiled down to Sweet Baby Boy.

that's the problem. we need to subvert stereotypes, but more importantly, we need to understand that people of color are not props, or pieces of cardboard for their white counterparts. they are full and actualized and have agency in their own right and they can have other emotions than Angry and Mean or Sweet and Bubbly without any nuance between the two. i think the show actually does a relatively good job of giving sam depth (relatively, always room for improvement, mind you), especially holding it in tension with his youth, but the fandom, i worry, does not.

it's the same reason why finn from star wars started out as the next male protagonist in the sequel trilogy but by the third movie was just running around yelling for REY!! it's the same reason why when people make Phase 4 Is the Phase For Therapy gifsets for the mcu and show wanda maximoff, loki, and bucky barnes crying and being sad but purposefully exclude sam wilson who had an entire show to tell us how difficult his life is, because people find out if pee oh sees are also complex, they'll tell the church.

and the reason why i picked up on this very early on is because i am an organic, certified fresh, 100% homegrown, non-gmo, a little ashy, indigenous sub saharan African black person. the ghanaian tribes i'm descended from have told me so, my black ass parents have told me so, and the nurses at the hospital in [insert asian country here] that started freaking out about how curly my hair was as my mother was mid pushing me out told me so!

and this stuff has real life implications. listen: being patronized as a black person sucks. do you know how many times i was patted on the back for doing quite honestly, the bare minimum in school? do you know how many times i was told how 'well spoken' or 'eloquent' i was because i just happen to have a white accent or use three syllable words? do you know how many times i've been cooed over by white women who couldn't get over how sweet i was just because i wasn't confrontational or rude like they wrongly expected me to be?

that's why they're called microaggressions. it's not a cross on your lawn or having the n-word spat in your face, but it cuts you down little by little until you're completely drained.

so that's the nuance. that's the subversion. the overcompensation is not a good thing. and people of color (and i suspect, even white people) have picked up on, in general, the different ways fandom treats sam and dani and even nate. what all of these discussions are converging on is fandom racism, which is not the diet form of racism, but another place for racism to reveal itself. and yeah, it's uncomfortable. it can seem out of left field. you may want to defend yourself. you may want to explain it away. but let me tap the sign on the proverbial bus:

if you are a white person, or a person of color who is not part of that racial group, even, you do not get to decide what is not racist for someone. full stop. there are no exceptions. there is no exit clause for you. there is no 'but, actually-'. that right wasn't even yours to cede or waive.

(it's also important to note that people of color also have the right to disagree on whether something is racist, but that doesn't necessarily negate the racism - it just means there's more to discuss and they can still leave with different interpretations)

people don't just whip out accusations of racism like a blue eyes white dragon in a yu-gi-oh duel. it's not fun for us. it's not something we like to do to muzzle people we don't want to engage with. and we're not concerned with making someone feel bad or ashamed. we're exposing something painful that we have to live with and, even worse, process literally everything we experience through. we can't turn it off. we can't be 'less sensitive' or 'less nitpicky'. we are literally the primary resources, we are the proverbial wikipedia articles with 3,000 sources when it comes to racism. who else would know more than us?

what 2020 has shown us very clearly is that racism is systemic. it's not always a bunch of Evil White Men rubbing their hands together in a dark room wondering how they're going to use the 'n-word' today. it's systemic. it's the way you call that one neighborhood 'sketchy'. it's how you use 'ratchet' and 'ghetto' when describing something bad. it's how you implicitly the assume the intelligence of your friend of color. it's the way you turned up your nose and your friend's food and bullied them for it in middle school but go to restaurants run by white people who have 'uplifted' it with inauthentic ingredients. it's telling someone how Well Spoken and Eloquent they are even though you've both gone to the same schools and work at the same workplace. it's the way you look down at some people of color for having a different body type than you because they've been redlined to neighborhoods where certain foods and resources are inaccessible, and yet mock up the racial features that appeal to you either through makeup or plastic surgery.

it's how when a person of color behaves badly, they're irredeemable, but a white person performing the same act or something similar is 'having a bad day' or 'isn't normally like this' or 'has room to grow' and we can't 'wait for their redemption arc', and yes, i'm not going to cover it in detail in this post but yes this is very much about nate. other people have also brought up the nuances in his arc and compared them to other white characters so i won't do it here.

these behaviors and reactions aren't planned. they aren't orchestrated. they're quite literally unconscious because they've been lovingly baked into western society for centuries. you can't wake up and be rid of it. whether you intended it or not, it can still be racist.

and it's actually quite hurtful and unfair to imply that concerns about racism in the TL fandom are unfounded or lacking any depth or simply meant to be sensational because you simply don't agree with it. i wish it was different, but it doesn't work that way. i'm not raising this up to 'call out' or shame people, but i'm adding to this discussion because, through how we talk about sam, and even dani and nate, i'm yet again seeing a pattern that has shortchanged people of color and made them feel unwelcome in fandom for far too long.

coach beard said it best: we need to do better.

[getlostsquidward]

The gaps in your hearts (Part 2)

Lou Miller x fem!reader

A/N: You asked for part 2, and I shall deliver. I hope it's worth your wait!!

Summary: After your departure, an unexpected circumstance had you arriving back at the loft, back at Lou. Will the gaps in your hearts only become wider or will they be finally filled?

Part one

“Oh, bugger. Baby? I’m home.”

“Nice place.”

“Try heating it.”

“There’s a room for you upstairs. Your stuff’s upstairs too.”

Lou called your name a couple of times but she got no answer. Maybe you went out and got something from the store. She furrowed her eyebrows at the notion that you didn’t let her know you’ll go out like you usually does.

She can’t wait for you to meet Debbie.

The sun has set down and you weren’t at home yet. Lou was growing worried each minute that passes. She’d left you text messages, she tried to call you several times, but all of it went to voicemail. Where did you go?

Debbie had returned from her closure meeting with Claude. She had bought takeout for dinner but Lou wasn’t in any mood to eat. She was antsy but keeping it down so her friend won’t notice. Maybe you were called in at work? Maybe you went out with a friend and forgot to send her a text. The blonde knows you can perfectly take care of yourself but she can’t help but be worried.

“Where’s your girl?” Debbie asked, reminded of Lou calling someone ‘baby’ when they arrived earlier.

Lou just shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing what to answer.

“Maybe she hit her head and woke up from the truth,” the brunette joked.

Lou glared at her friend. “Not funny.”

“Tell me about her.”

The blonde started to tell her friend everything. From how you met, the ups and downs of your relationship, and how loving and wonderful you are. You were patient and understanding; you were perfect in every way and she hated how she’d managed to hurt the one person that did nothing but love her.

The day you moved out of the loft was the most devastating day of her life. It was way much worse than when Debbie left before.

She knew that you were checking in on her through Matt, and she was wracked with guilt. Even after what she’d done, you still care for her. Lou unconsciously checks her phone to see if you left a message but to no avail. You really honoured your word that you’d give her time, and she was thankful for that.

In your two-month break, she really had thought about it all. She used the time to sort out her feelings. Hell, she even opened up to some of her other friends for help, something she rarely does even with those who know her. Unearthing her feelings.

Lou had feelings for Debbie. She didn’t know if it was romantic or if it was just a deep affection. She didn’t really think much of it. Debbie was one of the few of the persons she knows she could trust with her life and in the conworld, such a person was like a rare gem. It was hard to find, and if you do, you’ve got to treasure it. And so she did.

“Maybe you’d mistaken the concept of love and affection. You told me you really didn’t think anything about it and that explains it. The moment you felt that that person was dear to you, you immediately equated it to romantic love.”

The words mentioned had hit Lou, hard. Once she realized that, she promptly had to find you. She called you, but you didn’t answer. She didn’t know where you were staying so she asked your friends, and that’s how Lou found you drowning in liquor in some alley.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Debbie berated, feeling rather guilty about how she was probably the reason you left for the second time around.

“I do. No need to remind me.”

“I’m gonna tell you to go find her, but I also need you to focus on the job. Can you do both?”

“Of course,” Lou sighed. She won’t know what she would do if she were to lose you for real this time.

-

You were feeling rueful for leaving Lou without a word. You knew she’d be worried sick, but it was the best for the two of you. Once again, you fell into your routine. It was incredibly helpful that an event was coming and you can spend all of your time at work. Though this time, the constant drinking was out of your to-do list.

Your mind often wandered to Lou. She said something about a job, maybe that’s what they’re doing right now. Has she been thinking of you too?

The messages and missed calls Lou had sent you were not in your knowledge as you’d let your best friend hide your phone, and bought a new one for you. At first, you thought that it would be ridiculous and childlike of you but maybe she had a point. The worst-case scenario would be Lou filing for a missing person’s case, but you knew she wouldn’t dare cross paths with the police.

-

“Oh my god, you guys. This party is nuts. I’m not kidding! If your dress is ugly, you can’t wear it, no shit! They will bower your wardrobe!” Tammy rambled and rushed to get into the loft where she got everyone’s attention.

“I love that!” Lou quipped.

“Oh I gotta pee,” Tammy continued to ramble. “Every table cost a quarter-million dollars that if they allow you to buy one! I mean not just any $250,000 check will be approved, I mean they literally have to tell you whether or not they’ll take your money, it’s crazy!”

Everyone was standing outside the bathroom, still listening to Tammy rant about the Met.

“And then you can’t bring anyone, that you clearly go by yourself. They spend a hundred grand on food and apparently no one eats, it’s really crazy,” the blonde finished as she went out, kind of out of breath from the continuous rambling.

“Did you get the seating chart?” asked Debbie.

“The what?”

“The seating chart.” Tammy handed the special glasses she was wearing to Debbie.

“If I haven’t said it, it’s really crazy. This one person that I’m working with maybe is the only saving grace of that place. Thank goodness for Y/N,” the blonde sighed, capturing the attention of Lou.

She shared looks with Debbie, hoping that it was you their friend was talking about.

After discussing the seating chart, they approached Tammy and straightforwardly asked about you, if you were the same person she’d mentioned. Apparently, you quit your last job and had started few weeks prior to Tammy. Lou asked if you’re doing well, and almost cried when she nodded. When Tammy asked why they are curious, Debbie answered. “Lou’s girl. Left because of this dumbass right here.”

The blonde had a surprised expression on her face, a bit amazed at how small the world is. The person they’ve been looking for was only at their reach this whole time.

“She’s sweet. If you’re planning to get her back, which I know you would, you better not mess up.”

Since that day, Lou was itching to contact you but inhibited herself. She’d finish the job first, then she would have you back. If she was lucky enough to be given a second chance, which she wouldn’t fucking waste, she can finally go to California riding with you on her new bike like you always wanted to do.

Finally, it was the first Monday in May. Lou was still in the van with Nineball, preparing food for her. She remembered you telling her she would look good in a chef’s uniform. She wasn’t actually a chef right now, but she still owes you a hundred bucks.

What if you weren’t gone? Maybe you would be in on the heist too, and you would be the most beautiful woman in her eyes, everyone else in the Met is damned. She knew you would have loved and drooled over the green jumpsuit she was wearing.

The heist was successful, and the ladies were lounging at the loft. Their dillydally was halted when an unexpected guest has stormed the loft. Daphne Kluger.

“You guys are fucked,” the actress huffed. “Wow, nice place.”

“Excuse me, you are trespassing-”

“No, we asked her to come,” Lou cut Tammy’s accusation.

Debbie started to explain how Daphne might have gotten a sense of what they were doing, so they roped the brunette in. Daphne then asserted how she was the one who was saving everyone from insurance fraud. Another revelation had caused panic to those who didn’t know, scared that they might be busted and imprisoned.

“We will not be the prime suspect.”

“Then who will be the prime suspect?”

Lou listed several people like the security guys and the busboy. Their attention was focused on Daphne that they didn’t notice another person coming in. You quietly opened the door in purpose, glancing at each of the women inside. You’d heard the last bit of their conversation and captured their attention by announcing your presence.

“The shady guy who put Debbie away,” you casually commented, walking towards everyone.

“Wow,” Daphne chuckled. “The boyfriend.”

Everyone but Debbie and Daphne was shocked, for the third time around. They didn’t really expect guests today. Lou looked like she had seen a ghost but didn’t take her eyes off you.

“Yup. If they were gonna be looking for somebody, just had to make sure it wasn’t one of us.”

You whispered a “Hi, Tam” to your coworker, and took a sit in the middle of her and Daphne. “The precision, right?” the actress turned to you. “The attention to detail, a little grace note that really makes something sing.”

While she was blubbering about how well-thought the job was, she scooted closer to you and put a hand on your thigh. Lou raised an eyebrow at the action, jealousy bubbling in her chest.

“Why are you doing this?” Tammy asked, referring to Daphne. “And Y/N? You were in too? How?”

You let the brunette answer first and when she finished, Debbie had answered for you.

“She was our other mole in the Met, aside from you and Nine.”

“Oh, you were an angel, Y/N. She made sure I was okay after hurling my guts out. Much much better company than my date,” Daphne preached, leaning her head on your shoulder. You rest your head on hers in return.

Lou’s jaw was gritted, it was too much for her and she couldn’t look any longer. She looked at Debbie and gave her a perplexed look, asking for further explanation.

The brunette just shrugged her shoulder, knowing it was up to you to talk to Lou. After all, it was the reason she approached you. At first, she had only talked to you about Lou, but later called to ask if you were willing to join in the job. You’d said yes right away.

That night, you saw Lou sitting near the shore. She was staring straight ahead as you sat next to her.

“Lou?”

“You know, I planned to talk to you after we got the money. But you got to me first,” she whispered.

“You have to thank Debs for that.”

Lou chuckled, “Debs? What, you’re on a nickname basis now? She doesn’t even let me call her that.”

“She told me everything. And, I- I’m sorry, Lou. I shouldn’t have left like that, left you worried though you had a job to focus on-”

Lou cut you off as she pulled you in for a hug. “No, Y/N. I should be the one apologizing.”

Her hand was running up and down your back, the touch soothing all of your troubles. You can finally feel at peace. There was no snarling voice at the back of your head, no heavy feeling. You feel like a sailor in the middle of a calm sea.

“I’ll make it up to you, for real, this time,” Lou pulled back, giving you a smile. You nodded in return.

“Although you may have to explain first what was that earlier,” her smile faded, and glared at you playfully.

You were about to ask what she was referring to when you suddenly remembered. You told her how you may or may not have told Daphne that you were on a rough patch and she volunteered to help make Lou jealous. Both of you shared a laugh as she commented on how effective it was that she had to restrain herself from tearing you apart from the actress.

There was no time to waste, you thought as you pressed your lips against Lou’s. The kiss was slow and passionate, the both of you pouring all your feelings out. Her hand entangled itself on the base of your skull as she deepened the kiss, tongue swiping on your bottom lip asking for entrance. You let her dominate you, a soft moan coaxed out of your mouth.

The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Lou’s lips; your hammering heart and the waves lapping gently at the shore.

“I love you, baby,” Lou murmured, both of you breathless.

“I know, Lou. I love you too.”

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 2

WC: 1728

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: mentions of sexual themes, alcohol consumption, past relationships

🧠

You and Laszlo had easily fallen back in your work routine during the first week back. His course load was almost identical to that of the previous semester, and so he didn't mandate that you come to classes like he had during the fall. Even so, you insisted on attending like usual.

Taking your seat at the back of the lecture hall you watched as he moved around the front while he spoke. You were supposed to be sorting through the information cards the students had filled out. Not much was actually getting done, as you were highly distracted. His right hand typically found home in his trouser pocket so as not to draw attention. But his left? You licked your lips. Of course you loved both of his hands, but with his favoring the left side you developed a certain affinity for the limb. Oh what his hand was capable of, you reminisced.

Your sigh must have been louder than you anticipated, as Laszlo’s eyes snapped in your direction. “Perhaps if you are bored you should keep your noises of displeasure to yourself,” he said with a quirk of his brow. His face held a look of annoyance, but his eyes told you otherwise. He knew exactly what you were thinking about based on the sound you made and it amused him to no end. You knew he meant nothing by the harsh statement. He did so to maintain his staunch reputation in front of the class.

Biting your lip you issued a “sorry, professor.” Even from across the room you could see the brief flicker of heat in his eyes at your 'apology'. To everyone else the encounter would probably leave them shitting themselves, but you knew better. Even a small success such as this was to be celebrated in your mind.

You had been hoping that you could push Laszlo to be a bit rougher with you sometimes. He would often restrain himself when you were intimate, but you had an inkling that underneath he was just itching to let go. By no means were you ever left unsatisfied, he made damn sure of that. You wanted to kick things up a notch; you wanted to see what he was capable of.

He cleared his throat. Picking up where he left off, he began “as you can see, within psychology there is no single truth. No one theory that can fully or definitively explain who we are, why we are, or what becomes of us. That is why we must always ask of ourselves the purpose of our nature and our choices. This term will be a glimpse of seeking answers to our questions. In the meantime - you have a quiz on Monday for the parts of the brain and their functions. Do not be late or come with excuses, I do not give makeups often, if ever. Have a nice weekend.”

With that the young underclassmen all shuffled out to go spend their weekend most likely partying, rather than studying. You really couldn’t blame them, as this section of Introductory Psychology was in the late afternoon. As an undergrad you would have probably done the same on a Friday night.

Both you and Laszlo packed up your things from your respective areas of the room. Once the last student was gone he called out to you. “Sara and John want to meet up this evening, would you like to accompany them or do you have plans?”

“Will you be there too, or are you too busy with paperwork and stuff?” He had been complaining of having a list to work through this week with some new documentation requirement the university put out on the professors. You trek down the stairs to meet him by the front desk.

“I think it would be odd of me to invite you out in the event that I would not be there myself,” he quips back. His hand comes to rest on your side.

You hum in response. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.”

He chuckles at you, “you’ve spent every day with me.”

“You know what I mean.” Peering around to ensure no one was present, you lean up to give him a quick kiss. “What time do they want us there?”

He checks his phone for the text from John. “In half an hour.”

“Then we better get going before he hogs all the pretzels,” you crack.

The two of you made your way from the university to the old pub a few blocks down the road. Students didn’t come here often, as it was geared towards the older and less rowdy crowd. It was perfect for the four of you though. You had even gotten on with the owner, Cyrus, and his niece Joanna, who often worked the bar.

You sat in the booth next to Laszlo; Sara and John opposite you. The first 45 minutes or so were spent going over the events of the past week back. Eventually, the conversation slowed.

“I think I should get us another round. What do you say?” Sara asked the table. You slid out from your side offering to give her a hand with collecting the new beverages. Laszlo watched as you walked alongside her to the bar, laughing at something Cyrus had said to you. You always looked so beautiful when you were laughing.

“So…” John began, getting his attention. Laszlo turned to face his friend. “I heard a rumor.”

“You know I don’t put credence into such things, out with it John.” Clearly whatever he wanted to discuss he didn’t wish to say in front of your presence. Despite his words Laszlo did have some trepidation about the upcoming conversation. Could it be about you? Maybe you two weren’t being delicate enough with keeping the relationship subtle?

John looks over to the bar where you and Sara are still procuring the drinks. “Karen is in town.”

He relaxed at the turn of events. “Ah, yes. She is guest lecturing at the university while she conducts research of some kind in the city.” Laszlo is matter-of-fact in his response.

John studies him for a minute. He looks concerned. “It’s been what, four years since you last saw her? Or have you seen her yet?”

“I have not. Why do you ask?” He brings the near empty glass to his lips to take a sip of the harsh liquid.

“Well, Laszlo, I just mean that you two were serious for a long time before you moved out here. In fact I had figured you would settle down with her. You left her in Austria to come here, after all,” he explains quietly.

Laszlo cocks his head in confusion. “I don’t see how that would be a concern. The dissolution of our relationship was mutual - she stayed in Vienna; I came to New York. We did not want the strain of attempting something long distance and we both came to the same conclusion on the matter. And it has been four years, John, as you so kindly reminded me. I have moved on and I am quite content now.” His tone was nonchalant.

He is happy. You were vibrant, and thoughtful, and he couldn’t say that he had felt this lighthearted in years. His years with Karen were wonderful, but in truth they didn’t compare to what he had now with you. For once he felt hopeful for what the future with you could bring. It wasn’t as strong a consideration with Karen.

John holds up his hands as if to defend his words. “I’m glad for that, truly. She’s wonderful for you and I can see that. I just worry that Karen’s presence might cause a resurgence of emotions or whatnot with you. Sara and I would hate to see things fall apart for the two of you after everything,” he gestures towards where you stand with her. “Are you going to tell her about Karen?”

Laszlo nods in understanding. “I appreciate the concern, John. But I assure you, I view Karen strictly in professional terms now. I look forward to hearing about her studies here as they could be illuminating for my courses.” He sees movement from you and Sara as you begin your return. “I do not see myself withholding information regarding my past with Karen, but I don’t know that I find it necessary to bring it up as of yet.” John’s nod is faint, as though he disagrees but isn't willing to say so. The conversation is cut short by you setting drinks on the table.

You all stay another hour at the bar. Laszlo’s thigh rests against you, his right hand atop your own leg. Occasionally you can feel the way his thumb lightly strokes you through your jeans. He makes it hard to pay attention to what Sara is saying to the group; little bolts of lightning shoot up your leg and to your core. When your legs clench Laszlo doesn’t seem to notice.

Aside from the growing arousal within you, the soft clink of the index finger of his left hand grabs your attention. A steady tap tap tap as he hits the side of his whisky glass. The movement brings you back to your thoughts during his lecture earlier, how the thick digits with their calloused tips drive you absolutely mad when they brush against your skin. You swallow.

This time Laszlo is aware of your state. His eyes shift to you from where he sits to your left. The two of you hadn’t had time or energy to be intimate since that night he took you to Delmonicos. The lack has taken its toll as you give him that look.

Abruptly Laszlo faces the others. “I would hate to cut our evening short, but I have more paperwork to fill out by Monday for the Dean. I would rather get it done so that I may enjoy my weekend. John, Sara.” He nods his farewell as he nudges for you to move out of the booth. You hold back your giggle at his insistent need to get home.

John looks slightly confused with the suddenness of your departure. A look of understanding comes over him with a whisper from a smirking Sara. With a wave the two of you leave into the cold January night.

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[weasleydream]

unfairness

here it is, my participation to @omgrachwrites​ writing challenge! once again, congrats for 1k love, so happy for you!!

the prompts were “I’ll feel much better if you let me walk you home.” ; “I really want to kiss you right now.” “Do it then.” and “This is all in my head. It’s all happening in my head.”

As usual, feel free to like, comment, reblog and enjoy!

TW: the end can be a bit violent

masterlist 

We had realized our relationship wasn’t as bright as we had thought when an umpteenth rumor about us had spread between Hogwarts’ walls, at some point during our sixth year of school. It wasn’t the first, far from that, but it was definitely the worst because it also involved this Ravenclaw guy whose name was still unknown to me at the time. As far as I could tell, there had always been jealous girls that had tried to get Fred to dump me, and plenty of boys that wanted to convince me that they had more to offer than the Weasley boy. The only difference with this rumor was that Fred kinda despised said Ravenclaw boy because of a Quidditch match the year before, and he had turned his nervousness into a burst of anger I hadn’t anticipated. Problem is that, at the same time, I had heard Angelina telling Katie that Lee had told her that George had implied that Fred was seeing someone else, and just everything that had happened that year had gotten the best of me. 

Our first break up had occurred a week after we had heard about these rumours, and during the rest of our sixth year and most of our seventh until now, we had ended our relationship twice more. 

The worst in all of this was that I loved Fred. So fucking much. I loved him and I was ready to do anything for him, and I knew it was the same for him, but it was just not possible to keep a relationship as ours was. We didn’t have the same interests at all, Fred was obsessed with his shop project and me with the learning of defense against the dark arts (through Dumbledore’s army, of course). He was nonchalant and sometimes forgetful, I was fussy and very sensitive. When one of us was too busy, a date planned was quickly forgotten and the fight very likely to happen. 

That’s why, as I was in my dorm trying to choose what to wear, the main question in my mind was to know if it was worth it. A few clothes were scattered on my bed, and two pairs of boots were thrown on the floor. It had been almost half an hour and I only had twenty minutes left before having to join Fred who would probably be waiting for me in the common room. I had hoped this little preparation session would help me ease my terrible mood but it seemed that it was a fail. Finally opting for comfortable jeans and one of Fred’s sweaters - even though we were almost in June, the week had been a bit cold - I spent the rest of my time reading again some transfiguration notes. I headed downstairs exactly twenty minutes later only to find the common room completely empty. 

“Of course…” I muttered. 

As soon as the portrait opened, the noise in the corridors broke the silence I had been plunged in for an hour. Some people were talking about the coming exams, others about the next class they would have. Not once did I hear my name in a conversation, which had become quite rare with the time. I had learned the hard way that people always had something to say about my relationship with Fred, and if there wasn’t any tasty gossip, then inventing one wasn’t a problem.

I found Fred in the great hall, sitting with George, Ron and Harry. They were all talking about something that had to be classified as a defence secret considering how they suddenly became interested in everything that wasn’t me. Ron and Harry turned to Hermione, who was sitting at the table behind them, and George patted Fred’s shoulder before nodding at me and leaving without a word. It was usual, this taciturn behaviour George had when I was here; we had never gotten along that well, and if I was being honest, it was probably another problem between Fred and I. 

We headed outside and took the road to Hogsmeade. We were walking next to each other, our hands brushing every now and then without ever really touching. The distance had become natural, touches were rare now and it was in moments like these that I hated it the most. Hating on the happy couples we saw on our way was easier than trying to find something nice to talk about, so that’s what I did. Fred looked like he was lost in his world and he only gave me some attention when he pushed the Three Broomsticks’ door for me. We found a table against a window, which provided a nice warmth, and Fred put his jacket on the chair. 

“Butterbeer or hot chocolate?”

“You know the answer.” I said, playing with my sleeve.

“So it’ll be hot chocolate with chamallows for the damsel.”

He left with a smile to order our drinks, leaving me alone for a good five minutes. When he came back, a pint of butterbeer in one hand and a mug of hot chocolate in the other, I had had plenty of time to ruminate over everything I had decided to talk about with him during the past two days. However, the chuckle that shook his shoulders when he told me about the guy who had just tripped with three bottles of butterbeer in his hands stopped me. It could be a good afternoon, and these were too rare for my liking. It happened of course, our relationship wasn’t absolute hell, but it had definitely worsened with the time. 

“Y/N, you okay? You look quite pale.” Fred was looking at me with concern in the eyes. “No, don’t tell me: I bet a galleon you’ve been working on your potion essay until very very late at night. How right am I?”

“Very right,” I muttered before passing a hand on my face. “I don’t get it. How can you spend so little time on your work without being at least a little bit nervous?”

“You know I don’t really care about all of this. I’ve got other priorities and bigger ambitions.”

“I know, but you’ll need this knowledge, won’t you?”

Fred was keen to avoid another argument, and he sighed loudly. 

“We’ve already talked about this Y/N, George and I can do without all this scolar stuff. Plenty of people have done that already.”

“I know, I know.”

“I’m sorry we’ve spent all that time arguing.” added Fred after a pause. “It’s not time we can gain back.”

“Maybe we can’t,” I began cautiously, “but we can try to do better. Try not to lose more time.”

“It’s not like we have more time to lose anyway.” Another pause. “Do you want to take a walk? Looks like it’s getting warmer outside.”

We got up and exited the pub. Indeed, the sun was higher in the sky and its rays weren’t hidden by clouds. The warmth on my face was more than welcome, and the pleasant sensation made me forget Fred’s last sentence. 

This time, he grabbed my hand and we exchanged jokes on the way back to the castle. We bumped into a few friends and even one or two professors, but most of the time it was just Fred and I. Until the moment we arrived near the castle entrance, that is. 

“Hey Y/L/N, how are you?”

A Slytherin guy stepped in front of me, obliging me to stop and pull on Fred’s hand. The least I could say was that he didn’t look pleased at all with the interruption. The Slytherin didn’t look like he gave a care and kept smiling at me. 

“I was thinking, we could go to Hogsmeade together one of these days. I mean, I guess you want to cover your back, so I’m here if-”

I wanted this pretentious git to shut up, and it looked like Fred had read in my mind because his fist collided with the nose of the guy with a disgusting noise of cracked bone. 

“That’s what you get for trying to ask my girlfriend out.” he muttered before grabbing my hand. 

I should have said something, whether thank you or are you crazy? but in all honesty I was trying to calm my heart, which was beating like crazy. It was rare to hear such words from Fred’s mouth or so it had become, but hearing him calling me his girlfriend, punching a guy that was hitting on me, that gave me hope for our couple. 

And it made it even more painful when, a few weeks later, Fred left Hogwarts with George on his broom without a word to me. Without something as simple as a glance behind. All I could do was watch helplessly as he saluted Peeves and flew away and try to process the fact that he was giving up on me. Did that mean that we weren’t together anymore? That he had decided on his own he had enough of me, that I wasn’t worth the effort? It’s right here, alone in this crowded corridor after the most crazy departure from the castle we had witnessed, that I understood the meaning of what Fred had told me back at the Three Broomsticks, during our last date. It’s not like we have more time to lose anyway. What an idiot I had been! Here I was, thinking he was talking about the war, persuaded that he was just being extremely pessimistic, when he was in fact confessing that he was going to leave the castle and basically dump me without having the decency to assume it in front of me! I got back to my dorm, trying my best to keep a neutral face as I knew most of the students I would bump into were going to search for the slightest ounce of pain on my face. I only let my walls crumble when I got to the common room, and the first sobs left my mouth when the door of the dorm was closed. 

I threw myself on my bed and grabbed the pillow that I wedged underneath my chest. The anger would come later; for now, I needed to cry as many tears as I had in stock. I stayed in my bed the rest of the day, did surprisingly well in faking sleep when the dorm filled, and spent an agitated night. When I got up the next morning, my first thought was to wonder why my head was so heavy and painful, and when I remembered, my second thought was that it was time for anger. I grabbed my prettiest shirt, slipped in a particularly fitting pair of jeans, and watched myself in the mirror, hoping to fool people enough to avoid questions. At the sight of my dull skin, my eye bags and my glossy eyes, I realized the most beautiful clothes in the world wouldn’t make me feel better, so I sighed, grabbed my bag, sighed again and left the dorm with one goal: forgetting Fred Weasley, my love for him and the pain he had caused me. 

_ _ _ 

A few months later, it had become very obvious that I had failed that goal. I was still full of resentment toward Fred and what he had done, and I was able to get really irritated when someone reminded me of him in any way. The fact that I had gotten involved completely in the Order and that most of his family was in it too didn’t help at all and it had led to a few encounters I would have given anything to avoid. Fortunately, he was busy with his joke shop and we never saw each other long enough to say more than hello. Well, that was before Mrs Weasley organized a diner at the Burrow with a few members of the Order, me included. 

She had been particularly pleased to see me, and Ginny had confessed it was because her mother was persuaded I would run away. 

“You know, because of the git I have to call my brother.” she had added with a disapproving pout. 

Ginny had been very disappointed in Fred when he had left, not because of school because she would have done the same if she could but because he had left me on the sidelines. She was a good friend and confident, and even though family was everything to her, she had assured me she would never forgive Fred for what she used to call “a very stupid mistake”. However, as I was squeezed on the couch between her and Tonks, all the support she could provide me wasn’t enough considering the fact that Fred was only a meter or two away and his eyes were fixed on me. I was repeating myself that it didn’t matter, I didn’t care, it didn’t matter, but his gaze seemed to be getting heavier as the minutes passed by. It took me a good quarter of an hour to gather enough courage to look directly at him with the idea of making him understand he was annoying me, but the strange sparkle in his eyes intrigued me more than it should and I found myself looking away faster than what my ego could accept. A few seconds later, his hand was on my shoulder. 

“Do you mind if we talk?”

Ginny’s elbow hit my ribs repetitively until I sighed. I got up without a word and lifted an eyebrow, which Fred interpreted as a positive answer and apparently as an authorization to grab my hand. 

“Don’t go too far.” I warned before removing my hand and walking toward the stairs. 

I didn’t know how this would turn out as we hadn’t had any proper conversation since he had left months ago. All this rancour I had built up was ready to resurface at any moment, and I wanted to do my best to avoid the disaster. That’s why I decided it would be better if this conversation happened on a ground as neutral as possible, which would be complicated considering the fact that I was in his childhood home, but not impossible. I settled for a room I was sure wasn’t the twins’, maybe Bill’s, and if he wondered why this choice, Fred never questioned it out loud. The door closed behind his back, and I was surprised to notice that it didn’t cause me any anxiety. 

“You look tired.” he finally said with a certain hesitation when he understood I wouldn’t speak first. 

Quite honestly, I had imagined a lot of things, but certainly not this. 

“I’m- what? What does that mean?” I added with a grunt. 

“It means I think you look tired. Is it that surprising?”

“That you’re concerned for my well-being? Since you left school without telling me and didn’t give me any news I have to admit that yes, it’s surprising!”

It was too late to contain my anger as it seemed, and I decided the best I could do was leave the room before exploding. It was without counting on Fred though, who visibly didn’t want me to leave. 

“Get out of the way Fred, there’s nothing left to say.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, there’s everything to say.”

We looked each other in the eyes for quite a long time, and I eventually sighed before looking away, too afraid of the heartbeat my heart missed. 

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m sorry for what I did.”

“You’re right, I don’t want to hear it.”

“I wanted to tell you, really, I did, but things weren’t great between us and… I don’t know, I didn’t think that much.” I scoffed and took a step backward. Fred’s eyes were filled with what I had a hard time admitting was sadness - or regret, maybe? - and they followed every movement I made to sit on the bed. “Listen Y/N, back then I really loved you and I still love you now. But this thing between us… It turned out not good at all, it wasn’t healthy for us to keep it the way it was.”

“So you think you only had two options? You decided by yourself you had to choose between staying with me and keep suffering or leaving without a word?” My voice was maybe a bit louder than intended, but it was too late to keep my heart closed. He wanted a discussion, he would have it. “You never for a second imagined we could make it work again? Fred, what you did was breaking my heart, nothing else!”

“And I broke mine in the process.” 

“I- I don’t believe you. You’re the one who made the decision, you are the responsible. You are responsible!”

Fred looked away, and I could have sworn he was tearing up. All the words he could have come up with wouldn’t have changed my mind, but the tears that were now threatening to run down his face made my anger falter. It wasn’t pity but comprehension; these tears, they had covered my face so many times these last months and even before that I could recognize them undoubtedly. I was blaming Fred for leaving me, and even if I wouldn’t forgive him for the way he did it, blaming him for wanting a true breakup would be hypocritical. After all, hadn’t I thought about it myself? The only difference was that Fred had been brave enough to end it, not me. But that didn’t make the abandon any less painful, or these last months any less hard to think about. 

“Why now? It’s been months, why do you apologize now?”

Fred sniffed quietly and passed his hand on his face, wiping away a few tears in the process.

“Would you have let me apologize before?” Of course not, I would have punched him and left. “We were both hating me for what I did Y/N, and… I know I’m not pardonable, I just want you to understand that I regret and that no matter what happened, I’ll always be there if you need me.”

“I’ll be too Fred, trust me. But you’re right, you’re not pardonable.”

And I left without saying anything else, closed quietly the door between Fred and I, and it felt like it was the definitive end for us. 

_ _ _ 

Something like three weeks later, the situation of the wizarding world had worsened exponentially. Attacks from death eaters were getting more and more common, and this toward muggles, blood traitors and members of the Order. Two weeks ago, I had participated in my first real monitoring mission with Tonks, and that had made me a veritable member of the Order with all the dangers that it implied. My relationship with Fred had become a bit better after our conversation at the Burrow and he had been the first to show worry about me. An hour or so before my departure for the mission with Tonks, he had left the shop to find me and tell me to keep the Dumbledore’s Army galleon so that he could know if I was in trouble. I had accepted because I wanted him to leave but with time, I had concluded that having it with me was reassuring. I would have never admitted it in front of him though. 

A few days ago, Fred had invited me for a special evening at the shop that was organized for the presentation of a new product. He had refused to tell me anything about it and had assured me I would find it hilarious. I wanted to go but the thought of spending an evening with him still made me uncomfortable. Finally, I had accepted on the condition that Ginny was coming with me. 

The first thought that crossed my head when I apparated in Diagon Alley is that never in my life would I have thought it possible to see it so empty, so lifeless. Almost all the boutiques I had visited so many times were closed, some because the owner had stopped their activity for a question of security and others because of much darker reasons. My eyes found the only bright light of the alley and I picked up the pace to reach the twins’ shop quicker. All the customers were hurrying inside, they probably felt as oppressed as I did. 

“Here you are!” exclaimed Ginny when I reached the door. “I was beginning to think you had changed your mind. Glad you didn’t though, George told me what the new product is and it really seems fun.”

I hummed absent-mindedly as my eyes left the floor to wander around me. Trying to convince myself I wasn’t looking for Fred would have been stupid and a loss of time, so I just grumbled once more at my weakness and asked Ginny where her brother was. 

“Probably in the back shop preparing his grand entrance. Come on, let’s get closer to the stage.”

If she didn’t make any comment, I didn’t miss her smirk as she grabbed my hand to drag me through the crowd of customers. We finally reached the stage that was occupying all the space in this part of the shop, and I found an empty spot somewhere on the left. On the stage was a huge white cover that was hiding what looked like a board and a table one behind the other, and I barely had the time to think that it was a very simple installation before the twins made their appearance. Everyone cheered and especially the younger ones and Ginny. For my part, I adopted a small smile that widened when Fred winked at me - against my will, I promise. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” began Fred. 

“Dear customers,” continued George. 

“Let us present to you our latest product.”

“It is the result of a long work of research and development-”

“And your future darling, it’s a promise.”

George waved his wand and the cover disappeared. 

At first, the silence seemed very heavy, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had happened in their heads to create such a thing in times like these. Then, a kid in the audience giggled, and it seemed to relax everyone; laughter burst and some were already shaking their wallet. Ginny was applauding and shaking her head. The twins’ smiles widened and they got off of the platform to reach out to their customers. 

It was fun indeed, but I couldn’t help but wonder if they truly measured the impact of what they had just done. 

_ _ _ 

“U-no-poo Fred? Really?”

Fred giggled as if I had just told him a very good joke he had never heard before. 

“You have to admit that’s pretty clever!”

“That’s not clever, that’s stupid and not fun at all and- and that’s dangerous Fred!”

His gaze softened, but he didn’t let go of that cocky smirk. 

“Y/N, would you happen to be worried?”

“No, I was just thinking your instinct for survival was better than that.” My averted eyes didn’t mislead anyone though. “I don’t want you to get in trouble for this Fred, that’s all.”

“I won’t, don’t worry.” He hesitated for a second, and our eyes fell on the hand he had lifted and stopped above my shoulder. I didn’t say anything and he squeezed it gently. “These laughter earlier, that’s why we’re taking the risk. You have your way to fight the darkness, I have mine, that’s all.” I didn’t find anything to reply to that. “You know, I didn’t think you would come tonight, even Ginny was doubtful. And given the look on your face when I told you about it I thought you would refuse, really.” Fred paused and his fingers clenched lightly against my shoulder once more. “Why did you decide otherwise?”

That was a good question. Why? I had spent the last few days trying to figure out why the first answer in my head had been immediate and positive, why my heart had first beaten like crazy at the thought of seeing Fred again instead of aching as it used to, why I couldn’t hate him as much as I thought I did, as much as I thought I had to. Suddenly, some customer’s shoulder collided with my back with enough strength to make me lose my balance. The position we ended up in felt natural, as if Fred’s torso had always been there for me to rest my head on it and his hands were meant to be on my back. 

“I had missed this.” I murmured, and I felt his agreement through the vibrating of his body. 

I timidly encircled him with my own arms, and the feeling was so unhoped for, I had craved it for so long, that I found myself unable to move away from him. The more time passed by and the tighter our embrace was until it became almost difficult to breathe. 

“Maybe I should…” muttered Fred before loosening his hold, but without letting go of me. “Never again,” he added with a smile, and it didn’t take long for me to realize what it meant. “I’m not leaving you again.”

And as cliché as it could sound, I read the truth in his eyes. The pain, the regrets, the way he had been hating himself everyday for what he had done, but also comprehension because he knew I had been feeling the same. The Weasley sparkle was here too, bright and vivid and loving, and his smile was wider than every smile I had ever seen. I was probably looking the same, and if I wasn’t, I was definitely experiencing this euphoria that was shaking every cell of my body and making my heart beat so fast. 

“I really want to kiss you right now.” Fred’s voice was low, but it was the only thing I heard.

“Do it then.”

“Let me finish darling. I want to kiss you so bad, but I don’t deserve it, not after what I did to you. Give me some time to earn it, okay? We’ll make it work again, I’ll make it work again.”

I nodded, torn by two completely opposite emotions. I was grateful because Fred wanted us to become a loving couple again, and disappointed because I needed him, so much that it hurt. But after all this time, it wouldn’t have felt right, and after all maybe it was for the best. Suddenly, I became aware again of the noise in the shop: dozens of customers were still talking happily about their purchase and congratulating George.

“I should go back home. It’s… It’s a lot to take in.”

“I know, don’t worry.” Fred smiled and kissed my hair. I gave him my back and took barely two steps toward the door before he grabbed my hand. “Wait Y/N, I’ll feel much better if you let me walk you home. It’s dangerous outside and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“You shouldn’t leave your little party, Freddie. Don’t worry for me, I’ll apparate as soon as I can, okay?”

“You have the galleon, right?”

“Yes Fred, I have it, and yes I’ll warn you when I’m home.” 

He nodded and let go of my hand. I sneaked through the crowd of customers and reached the door. I was on the verge of opening it when Fred’s voice echoed. 

“Are you going to leave without a U-no-poo Y/N?”

“Who told you I needed one?”

Fred chuckled, and I only looked away when the door closed. The alley was still somber, and the same dying feeling was floating in the air, but my heart was lighter than it had been in months. I was so happy that nothing could have tarnished my joy, or so I thought. 

It’s my training as a new Order member that kicked in and made me dodge the first curse. As the only remaining window of Ollivander’s shop exploded, two dark silhouettes made their appearance between the twins’ shop and I, making it impossible for me to reach any safe place on this side of the alley. What I feared was confirmed when at least two other death eaters’ feet hit the paving stones. 

All of this had happened in a second, and I reached for the magical galleon in my pocket before anything else. An instant later, I was forced to dive to the ground with my hand still stuck in my jeans. I got up quickly and drew my wand. It was too late. Something burnt my back with such intensity that the heat spread to the core of my body. Through the excruciating pain, my dizzy brain noticed that there wasn’t a sound that left my mouth, and soon my knees hit the ground. My arms refused to obey and I found myself falling forward without anything to shield my head. The shock was brutal as the rest of the scene. The death eaters left without anything else, word or curse, and soon the noise made by their footsteps disappeared. It felt like an eternity before someone else arrived whereas it had probably been less than two minutes. Time definitely seemed to stop when I realized it was Fred. 

“Y/N, what’s- oh god, Y/N, can you hear me? Please tell me you’re still with me… Y/N!”

His arms slipped underneath my limp body. Even the heat he gave me as he was hugging me against his torso wasn’t enough to dissipate the icy cold in my bones. He was calling for help, desperate to be heard as it seemed like we were both glued to the paving stones. 

“Please Y/N, tell me- tell me I’m dreaming. This- This is all in my head, it’s all happening in my head...  Right? Y/N, say something, please!” I wished I could have reassured him, but my strength was leaving me. “I still have to gain back your love, Y/N you can’t leave me… You can’t…” 

Fred was almost sobbing now, shouting to whatever cruel god was watching him that he couldn’t live without me, screaming pleas and crying at this unfairness. His arms were still holding me, and even this feeling was slowly vanishing; soon, I wondered if I had ever felt it and the only answer I could get was the aching in my body that had nothing to do with the curse. 

Death wasn’t that bad, after all, less painful than life, and I wished Fred could read it in my mind.