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spencersbabymama · 8 days ago

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Numbers l Chapter One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Disabled OC

Content Warning: Mention of disability, mention of disability limitations, I think that's about it.

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: It's the first day of Brooke Bevan's dream job working as a technical analyst for the Behavioral Analyst Unit in the FBI. She knows girls like her don't get jobs like these every day so she doesn't want to blow it. What she wasn't expecting, was to meet a dapper genius her age....

a/n: AAAAAHHH I'm so excited to finally be posting this! This series is my baby and I'm so excited to share. I'm really passionate about writing disabled characters since I'm disabled myself, and I've noticed a lack of Spencer Reid x Disabled OC content, so I figured why not do it myself? Shout out to @just-call-me-by-yn & @floraisunwell for pushing me to go forward with this idea! I'm so happy I met you both! Also credit to @just-call-me-by-yn for making this awesome banner for me 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Story: “Hey, thanks for meeting me downstairs. You would think for a government building, they would have easier to reach elevator buttons for everyone.” I joke, trying to break the ice with the person I’ll be spending most of my time with.

Although that didn’t seem to be a problem because the second I entered the lobby, Penelope Garcia, BAU Technical Analyst Extraordinaire, was standing right in the middle wearing white dress covered in colorful flowers, pink cardigan, matching kooky glasses, yellow heels, and all wrapped up in a smile that could possibly blind an elderly person. It was at that moment, I knew work, at least, wouldn't be boring.

“Oh honey, no problem, I probably would have raced to the lobby even if you didn’t call just so I could be the first one to greet you.” Penelope giggled. I opened my mouth to add my own witty humor but instantly got cut off. “You know normally I don’t love newbies joining the team, especially newbies entering my expertise, but I had a feeling when I found out you were another techy kick butt girl? Oh my gosh I was so excited!” Penelope added, almost seeming out of breath now from her said excitement.

All I could do was giggle and nod in agreement.

It was a relief to know I didn’t embarrass myself in the first few minutes on the job. I knew the fact that I got this job was an accomplishment. Girls like me don’t get jobs like these everyday. Girls like me who have no use of their legs and have limited muscle strength, do not get jobs in the Behavioral Analysis Unit in the FBI. Though it was my dream, the moment when I couldn't reach the elevator buttons was an honest wake up call

Ever since I was little I loved the idea of saving others and catching bad guys. When other girls were painting their nails, or playing princess, I was in the city library reading about Ted Bundy. Strange for a 12 year old girl, I know, but I couldn’t stop thinking about why people did what they did. Don’t worry I still enjoyed dolling up my nails every once in a while.

Obviously it was no secret I couldn’t run after criminals, or even use a gun so I knew it was probably a pipe dream. So I shifted gears, got into tech and code. I could do that. With the right adaptive technology, I could run laps around any encryption. Luckily I never used my powers for evil. In high school I learned about technical analysts who worked for the FBI. That was it, that was my path.

The elevator opened and I followed Penelope through the glass doors, into the bullpen I saw in my college textbooks. If it wasn’t clear by my beaming smile, I was almost start struck by the sight of all the agents sitting at the desks working and I got to be one of them. One agent stood out though because instead of flipping through files or paperwork, he was playing chess, by himself. The other odd thing was he looked about my age. I expected to be the youngest one on the team because by some miracle, I got this job only a few years after graduating college. His floppy curly brown hair shielded his eyes slightly, but even from where I was, I could tell they were brown.

Penelope’s voice took me out of my trance and my eyes snapped up to look at her “Hotch told me to come get him when you arrived since well…” She gestured to the wheels of my motorized wheelchair, then up to the door in the middle of the walkway above the main level of the bullpen with a small awkward giggle “Stairs, so I’ll be right back.” I snicker slightly then nod, sending her up the stairs and into the room she pointed to.

While waiting, my gaze goes back to the chess playing guy. He was young but dressed like an old man, suit, tie, and everything. There was something wise about him, like his looks were youthful but it seemed like he’s seen some things.

Hotch’s office door opened before he and Penelope made their way down the steps. I met them halfway, holding out my hand as best I could with a smile “Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, Brooke Bevan, it’s seriously an honor to be working with you.” In my defense, I didn't mean to sound like a fan girl, it just came out that way.

With a firm grip, Hotch shook my hand “Welcome, we’re eager to have you.” Already I could tell the rumors were true. Aaron Hotchner was all business and it looked like he hadn’t smiled in at least a month. He was the man in charge for a reason though, the number of successful cases couldn’t lie.

Hotch reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out the thing that makes all this official. My face beams as my heart races in my chest. “Here are your credentials. As you should already know, you must keep these on you.” I nod while practically ogling the FBI symbol on the front of my credentials. “Penelope can introduce you to everyone.” Hotch explains while placing the booklet on my lap then heads back up to his office.

Penelope practically shakes with excitement “It’s official newbie!” She was right. I am now Brooke Bevan, Technical Analyst for the FBI, it had a nice ring to it. “Come and meet everyone!” Penelope chimes before leading to a group sitting in the middle of the bullpen.

A dark-haired girl looks up from the file she was reading and her face lights up when she sees us coming “Hey! You must be Brooke.” She stands up and shakes my hand “I’m Emily Prentis, it’s nice to meet you. Hotch has said good things.”

I grin with a nod before one by one introduces themselves with a handshake. Derek Morgan, David Rossi, then Jennifer Jareau who apparently goes by JJ. Finally there was Chess Guy. I hold out my hand before he awkwardly waves it off with a small smile “I-I actually don’t do handshakes. Did you know according to studies, a handshake can transfer a significant amount of bacteria, with research showing that a handshake transmits nearly twice as many bacteria compared to a high five and significantly more than a fist bump, which is considered the most hygienic greeting option du-”

“And that is Dr. Spencer Reid.” JJ cut him off with a small amused laugh.

My eyes blink a few times, trying to drink in the info dump plus the fact that JJ just said doctor. My eyebrows furrow a little in confusion “You look a little young to be a doctor…” My voice trails off.

That’s when Penelope speaks up “Reid is our team genius.”

Reid sheepishly “I don’t really believe you can quantify knowledge but I do have an IQ of 187 and eidetic memory.”

I give another stunned look and utter “Huh…” To be honest I couldn’t recall knowing anyone with that amount of smarts, I couldn’t help but be impressed. “How about a high five then?” I finally say with a smile while holding out my hand.

Spencer’s face seemed to light up and he reached out to give me a high five.

Suddenly Hotch comes out with a thick file folder in his hand, his presence commanding attention. “We have a case.”

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rafecameronsgun · 11 months ago

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Rafe bullies you since 9th grade,but he never took it far until now. Its your last year of school. He literally destroyed ur school days. For example when he locked you in the dressing room before PE,or when he grabbed your tits in front of everyone and told you to wear push up-bras.He made you anxious, not being able to look at anyone because they all just laugh at you and think you are ridiculous because of all the gossip Rafe told them about you.

You and Rafe both got kicked off Mrs Grace’s math lesson because of arguing and making a show.

DARK!Rafe

-Why can't you finally get off of me?-the sea of emotions burst out of you when you both stepped out into the corridor.

Rafe makes a bored face at your whining and then grabs your hand and drags you to the empty dining hall not far from the abandoned classroom.

- Listen to me! - he pushes you and you fall to the ground. His middle parted hair hangs loosely in his eyes as he bends down to talk to you.

-You are nothing, just an ugly bitch with whom I can play as I please, take everything I do to you or try to fight back and see what happens.

You push yourself up on the ground into a sitting position. You close your eyes and speak with a trembling voice.

-What do I have to do for you to finally leave me alone?

Rafe laughs.

-Oh, I don't think there's anything you can do to make me leave you alone. Your pathetic existence revolves around people like me and I'm just bored to play with you for as long as I want.

You place yourself on your knee and it is extremely pathetic that you are about to beg for him.

- Please, please, I can't go home one more time and cry myself to sleep because you embarrass me all day! I leave school every morning with anxiety, I don't want to spend the last year of school like this!

Rafe laughs loudly at your dramatic speech and his blue eyes darken as he unbuttons his khaki pants with a dark smirk.

- If you suck me well enough, maybe I'll let go of you.

You swallow and even though you knew that Rafe Cameron is evil incarnate, that he can do anything just to have power over someone, but you didn't think that he could really go that far. Since you're already on your knees, you don't have much to do except to take his huge cock.

Desire and passion tower in dark colors in his beautiful blue eyes. He smooths your hair back with his big, strong hands and grabs it in a ponytail.

- Do what I asked, you dirty Pogue!

You close your eyes and force yourself to move forward. You've never done this to anyone before, so you're disgusted by the strange smell that hits your nose. You open your mouth as if you're about to eat and take the red tip first. You taste it, suck it, which makes Rafe moan quietly.

-Enough teasing, now suck it!-he grits between his teeth

You push your mouth forward, only until it is not uncomfortable. When you feel him filling your mouth completely, you pull back a little, but Rafe grabs your hair and pulls your head back to look up at him.

- You are not pleasing yourself,you are pleasing me!

And with one movement he swings his hips forward and pushes his cock down your throat and when tears start to form in your eyes, he stops. For another 5 seconds

he won't let you go until the first tear rolls down your face and then he' pulls it out.

He groans and tugs at your hair, pulling you up from the ground.

-You're an useless little bitch-he hisses as he presses your face against one of the dining tables. He pulls off your short skirt along with your panties and spreads your legs with his knees. One of his hands firmly presses your face to the table and the other lands on your ass with a loud snap. You shudder and shiver from the sudden impact. Then he do it again and again. You feel awfully pathetic for enjoying this, your pussy wet. You moan loud from the last slap, because it hits your pussy straight. Rafe laughs darkly and with a sudden movement he enters your body. You grunt and youre glad that he doesn't see how my eyes roll 360 degrees.

-Damn it!-he giggles as he begins to pick up a rhythm. Your legs are so far apart that you can't even close because of Rafe's body pressing into your cunt, his dick touches that certain sweet spot in you. You scream, your walls tighten around him and his fingers gently start to play with your clit to please you even more.

-Rafe!-you gasp-I can't take it...too much!-you almost cry from the excessive dose of released endorphins and dopamine.

-ENOUGH!

Rafe smirks and thrusts all the way in, not moving his hips as his dick is fully inside you,filling you.His hand starts to circle your clit faster, until your legs are shaking. Now you're really crying and you can't hold it in any longer, you're moaning around his dick accompanied by a huge scream.

-Take it, take it, you little whore...-Rafe groans as he chases his orgasm. After a few seconds, he pulls it out and squirts it on your lower back. The hot liquid flows down your ass. He slaps both of your ass cheeks one last time and pulls up his pants. His cum drying on your skin as you are still here,trying to catch your breath.

-You're a filthy pogue slut, don't expect me to give the luxury of respecting you. - he says in a hoarse voice.

Before I can react, the principal's voice comes from the school radio.

-Mr. Cameron and Mrs. (your name) come to the office immediately!

Oh, what trouble you've gotten yourself into!

@rafescokewhore @rafeandonlyrafe @rafeinterlude @sadfury @drewsbebe @starkeyisthelastname @urfavcameron

@xxbutdaddyilovehimxx

#outer banks #rafe cameron #smut #outerbanks #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron smut #school #school bullying #school romance #fuuuck

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obxlovers-posts · 1 year ago

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Pretty in pink

Warnings- smut 18+

Summary- cute lil fluff rafe being sweet. Sarah’s friend stays at her house with rafe

Requests are open! :)

Word count- 1,272

Sarah sets down a small box with different nail polishes next to me on the couch. I reach in pulling a couple out looking through them

"Take them all, I haven't used them and don't wanna waste"she says

Rafe sits beside me holding his hand out I look at the nail polish in my hand and hand them to him. I watch him shake his head and put back the dark blue.

"I'm gotta go, John B needs me. You want me to run you home?"sarah asked rafe looks at me

"Uh, no I can wait here"i say giving her a smile

"I likely wont be back"she says slipping her shoe on

"I'll make sure she gets home"rafe says still looking through the colors. Sarah doesn't fuss, she also doesn't like her brother, but she knows he won't let anything happen to you.

Being Sarah's best friend means you've spent a lot of time in the mansion and a lot of time spent around rafe. Sometimes it felt like you knew him better than Sarah who would blow him off or argue with him. With you it's like he is a different person and Sarah can tell which is why she trusts him with you. On the other hand she knows you and how you light up around him or how you get shy all the little things just as you know of him.

"We can do something tomorrow"Sarah says hearing the honk from the Twinkie

"It's fine Sar"I say before she heads out the door

Rafe grabs my leg from beside me tugging it so I'm facing him with my feet in his lap and he holds up a pale pink nail polish to my foot. I smile to him as he smirked to himself placing the box aside. Not what I would've chosen but he likes it

He takes my foot in his hand rubbing circles on the bottom. He starts painting my toes and surprisingly it wasn't a disaster. He wipes off the extra leaving a pale pink stain on his finger. I watch his hands as he switches feet letting the other one dry. I look at his gold ring it's usually on his index finger is now on his middle finger I scrunch my brows.

"You okay?"he asked looking at me as my eyes meet his

"Your ring it’s different"I say nodding my head

"Sometimes I play with it and move it around"he says finishing my toenails he brings my foot closer to him blowing on it making me giggle

"Don't mess it up" he groans as I wiggle

"How much time do you spend looking at my hands?"he smirked

"What?"i ask

"You noticed my ring. "he says looking at me in between blowing so the nail polish dries. My mouth is dry and my heart is racing. I adore the look in his eyes.

“I notice a lot about you”I say he looks at me before tapping my toenail

“All dry”he says pulling it closer to him placing a kiss on my ankle and kisses on the inside of my calf

"Rafe"I say as he leans up his hand following his lips on the other side of my leg pushing it closer to his face kissing my knee

"Hmm"he hums against my skin as his face moves up to my thigh my head falls back trying to hide the smile. He’s usually touchy but this is different and it’s bringing butterflies to my stomach

"I wanna see you pretty girl"he says I lean my head back up biting the inside of my lip he smiled his hands trail down to the hem of my summer dress pushing it back. I try to back myself up but his hands slip on my ass pulling me back to him

"Rafe not on the couch someone could see"I whisper

"Let them watch"he says peeking up to me as his hands work the lace on my underwear tugging them towards himself I lift my foot and he tosses them on the floor

His face returns to the inside of my thigh my head falls back once again as he gets closer I feel him stop and his hand wraps around my throat. The cold ring making me go crazy and I swallow as he leans above me rubbing my clit with his other hand

"What did I say" he says pushing his lips into mine as his finger slips into me making me moan in his mouth he quickens his pace adding another finger

"My girls so wet"he says and I can see the lust dripping in his bright blue eyes he moves back down my body his mouth hovering over my exposed pussy. He slides his finger back in until I’m met with the cold hard metal of his ring I groan my hand finding his and pushing it deeper

“You like my ring inside you?”he asked tilting his head

“I like you inside me”I say watching his eyes Subconsciously moving myself closer he removes his finger replacing it with his tongue sending a rush through me. His hands hold my hips causing me to clench harder around his head. My hands quickly find his hair. He groans wrapping his hands under my ass cheeks pulling me up with him I wrap my legs around him

He packs me upstairs to his room laying me on the bed quickly taking his shorts and boxers off.

He pushed me back on his bed towering over me he rubs his dick on my stomach trailing down before slowly pushing himself in I gasp taking him in I wrap my hands in his hair pulling his face to me kissing him. Moans escaping into his mouth and he pulls away shaking his head

"Rafe"I say panting trying not to moan his hand squeezes my boob

"Let it out pretty girl"he whispered and I didn't hold it back as he thrusts harder into me. He stops lifting my legs and placing them on his shoulders fixing himself and slamming back into me his hand returns to my throat I give him a smile

“That’s right my girl”he says throwing his head back with a smile he can’t hide

“R-Rafe”I moan trying to tell him I’m about to cum

“I know baby I feel it”he says and I melt around him his lips meet my neck sucking on it sweetly as his pace quickens. He rolls me over and lines himself up sinking back into me he pulls my hair towards him before he slows him pace his dick throbbing inside me as he finishes

“Take it all my girl”he says pushing himself all the way in I moan feeling him slide out and fall beside me onto his back. catching his breath and pulling me into him

"I'm glad Sarah left you to me"he says kissing the top of my head he holds my hand up sliding the ring off his finger and putting it on mine though it’s too big

“I promise you my girl you’re not just one of my toys”he says tilting my chin up placing a kiss on my nose giving me a smile

“I sure hope not Rafe Cameron”I say falling back into his ocean eyes twirling the ring on my finger

“You remind me of the color pink”he says his blue eyes shine and a smile spreads across my face he places his hand on my cheek rubbing his thumb on it pulling me closer for a kiss

#drew starkey #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe smut

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ddoxhan · 9 months ago

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stay by my side

if there is no one next to you I’ll just be behind you, just stay by my side

word count : 0.9k words

genre : classic angst; giselle x gn! reader; days were never the same anymore but your feelings for aeri will always be unchanging for as long time exists

t/w : nothing :) this is just some good ol' angst

a/n : not much plot to it but ! it's the feels of not being able to forget someone and maybe, you're better off longing for them than try pressing down your feelings. anyone out there longing for their special someone, I just wanna say it's okay to feel that way :3 it may not be the healthiest choice, but allow yourself to long for that person until you feel it's time to actually let them go <3 enjoy !

things were just never the same anymore, it couldn't. I'd keep having dreams about you, about us. those sweet, spring memories we shared now embedded in my head like a broken record. those days when we spent our mornings showering each other with kisses, when we would take night walks in the park, when we talked about spending the rest of our lives together. those days, when we loved each other like there was no tomorrow. we did, but it just didn't last forever just like what we had wished under that shooting star.

I admit, that I still love you, the same or maybe even more than I did back then. I truly believed that we were meant to be, and no one can tell me otherwise as I've seen those eyes of yours bear the same endearment for me as I do for you. it sounds cheesy, but I am willing to be if it's you. however, as much as I want to let go of you, I don't think I'd ever come to terms with the fact that you did. we were so beautiful, don't you think so? it was as if the world revolved around us. I know we will never be able to go back to those days, to love each other again.

every night that came and went in the same repertoire. staring straight at the ceiling, reminiscing the times I still had you in my arms, crying myself to sleep, jolting awake from the same nightmare, hugging myself back to sleep. the pain was almost unbearable when it gets to the nightmare. it was my regrets for not doing my best for you, and the mistakes that I wished I hadn't made. I could never stand to see tears in your eyes, especially if it was because of me. on the day you left, you looked me in the eye, with tears threatening to roll down your crimson cheeks. that moment broke my heart to pieces, noticing the burning sensation of the wind against my skin.

it seems I have already lost you, with no chance to turn back time.

when I'm sober, everything I did numbed me to the core. when I wake up to your side of the bed empty, seeing that the once lively space all dull with silence, the fridge slowly emptying, leaving nothing but water and some alcohol. it's like I stopped functioning properly when you're not with me. the flowers that you loved so much don't look as lively, the warm breeze that greeted us daily slowly getting chilly, the stars that we spent hours looking at don't sparkle as much. you brought so much color to my world, and it returned back to being monochromatic, like those times before I met you.

you brought so much joy to my life, and I have never felt so grateful for being alive. it was the first time I felt so euphoric, fortunate to see that very smile of yours when you look at me with such affection. that smile was for me, because of me, only me. you made me feel like the luckiest person on earth to love someone as wonderful as you are. I can only hope you felt the same way as I did.

all the things in my life took a turn, not a good one at that, after you left. you took a part of me with you when you told me that things weren't working out. what did that mean? was I not doing good enough? did your feelings for me change? there were so many questions I want to ask, but sometimes, they were better left unanswered. these daggers piercing through my heart are more than enough to leave me bleeding profusely till I can't feel love anymore.

as I spent each day, yearning for your warmth and affection, there's something that I've come to realize as I take a step back to look at things. there will be no one else who would be able to fill your spot, not even with time. it's been months, almost a year that I've been standing here, not knowing what is wrong with me. that's because, nothing is wrong. everything made so much sense.

I love you and nothing can ever change that fact. even if you don't love me anymore, that's okay. all I will do is just stand here right behind you, protecting you from the shadows. although there might not be someone who would be by your side all the time, I will be right here behind you. until the day I get the chance to stand next to you, be the one you can rely on, I will be here for you.

there will be a day where we meet again, whether it be by chance or fate. and when that day comes, I want to be stronger than I am now, to give you that smile you loved so much when we were us. until then, I will take this role as your dark knight. looking over you from somewhere you wouldn't notice, offering you a hand when you struggle, finding solace right here. I know you would be able to tell that I am here, but please, leave me be. for the day I am able to let you go, will hopefully come.

so let me stay by your side for now, aeri.

#giselle #uchinaga aeri #aespa #aespa angst #aespa imagines #aespa scenarios #aespa x reader #giselle x reader #Spotify

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hyacinthdoll1315 · 7 months ago

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3 Months of Moth HRT

Soooo. well, I definitely have setae. It's absolutely setae. It's grown out a lot now, both the setae in my hair and on the rest of my body. It's like, fluffy, but also stiff, sort of like fur? You know, when you pet a dog and its fur is nice and soft, but if you try to brush it the wrong way it gives a lot of resistance? It feels like that. So I guess, well, I've grown setae across my body.

It's not everywhere mind you. It's grown unevenly in some places, and I think my clothes hindered it some. My hips for example have a lot less than places like my shoulders, which are very fluffy. guess I'll just hope it grows more on its own and sleep with fewer clothes maybe? I mean, it should give some more breathing room for it all to grow out,. plus, it's very warm too!

I might need to swap out my big blanket once summer hits.

Oh, also, my sense of smell has gotten really strong now! Almost a bit too much actually. Like, I can smell so much when I'm going for a walk now, from the sugar from all the local cafes, the smell of coffee being grounded, the dew of grass from a park even when I'm really far away, the gas from cars, the perfumes and deodorants of people going about their day.

It's, it's a lot. And I can smell it all from really far away.

So I've been spending more time wearing a mask lately to help! Sure, we may not have to wear them as often anymore, but it has helped suppress it all a lot! Plus I can get others with really cute designs, like one covered in poppies! I just make sure to clean them every once in a while, rub a flower I like on it, and huzzah! instant nose damper without smelling like cleaning detergent.

As for other changes, my eyesight has been getting more sensitive, maybe I'll get cool color vision? my hearing has gotten better too I think? I remember reading moths and bats have similar hearing abilities. I wonder what else we have in common!

I've also been feeling more, scatterbrained. I was already pretty flighty before, but now it's like, my head got lots of cotton. My friends have been getting annoyed with me for it. My closest friend has been trying to help, and she seems to understand, but I can't help but notice she seems worried.

I've found myself jumping between different things in my kitchen (I really like my teas! they taste so different! it's so much more floral, but also really chocolatey! like, who doesn't like chocolate? well, I Might have to no, concentrate) but, I saw her by the window one time while I was making lunch for us, her eyes were downcast. I'm worried how she'll feel at the end of this. I don't want to stop, but, I also don't want her to hurt.

but yeah! things have been changing a lot! it's been really fun! I'm very excited for what changes happen next! though things feel like they've been slow, maybe I should talk to the doc about it? Hopefully, it's nothing in particular.

Previous | Next

#transgender #animal hrt #transgirl #hrt diary #therian #moth hrt

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lovelybeesthings · 1 year ago

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Quick like a bunny Ch 2

Coriolanus Snow x reader

Warnings: none I think

Word count: 1.8k

Ch 1 & 3

Mansion

Why did he have to say such hurtful things all I’m trying to do is to care for him is that not enough? What does Lucy Grey have that I don’t she's a poor tribute form that distracts 12 from what he's doing he can end up killed or hanged! *I cry into my pillows as I try to find a way to release my feelings and emotions as tears find a way to escape from my sniffs and efforts push them away* “Yvanna dear come down for dinner!” *I hear my mother call as I get up in my pink pastel long puffy Lacey dress with my hair in curls*

Training

The next day I attended the Academy sitting threw my classes and lessons with focus but I couldn't help but look at Coriolanus his beauty his curls his looks- I stopped myself from looking and continued to focus on ways to take advantage of the games. As the lesson soon ended I came across my tribute as we practiced one-on-one trying to think of how I could better his odds even though he has the brown I would like to give him the brain.

I shortly walked away to get some Items to see how Reaper works with them and I soon came across a tribute his features were beyond what I'd seen from the Capitol his eyes sea green, his hair bronzed color his skin the color of gold if possible whatever he came from they had been keeping him well.. I felt a rush of warmth from my cheeks this tribute quickly noticed my luring eyes. “Fenwick Odair District 4” his smile was a bright pure one he knew he was handsome and showed it* “Did I scare you little bunny?” he said as I quickly regained my thoughts and answered “No, I was just impressed I believe you have a good chance of winning I think the odds are surely more in your favor” he looked at me hand on his chin smirking “That so little bunny?” “Better watch out then this bunny is quick” I smile as I flirt a bit with him and quickly return to Reaper to continue our training.

Unnoticeable to me Coriolanus was watching our interactions on his way to Dr. Volumnia's lab he felt his heart clench with bitter thoughts surfaced in his head what did he do to that tribute from District 4- no what did he think he was here to learn more knowledge to find a better way for Lucy to better her odds for his odds.

After hours

I spent my time brushing my silky (c/h) as it didn't have any tangles or any worries in my long healthy hair as I think about my encounter with Fenwick his love is his charms make me blush still, I hope he wins the game is know I should try to win but Id like to spend more time with him.

I heard a sudden knock on my door and I got up from my vanity in my pink lacey nightgown opened the door got my candle lamp to see who had visited my room in such late hours Maye a maid “y/n” Coriolanus speaks I'm shocked to see him here this light at night “what happen why are you home are you alright is Tigris okay?” I say confused and worried soon his cold hands reach my face and hold my chin I look completely lost to his sudden affection.

He pushes his way inside my room and preps me down on my bed I'm blushing and not sure what he's planning to do “What are you doing Coriolanus?” I say as his piercing blue eyes look at mine like a wolf looking at a poor rabbit to slaughter in minutes, his response was his lips on mine I'm surprised I mean this man was my fiance but he never really showed me an ounce of affection like that and since our last words, I wasn't sure he wanted to be in my life.

I respond with his kisses as he’s on top of me vulnerable to his lips how could I shut him down his mop of white blinding curly hair he just does it for me though in the back of my mind I think of Fenwick and gently push snow off “what are you doing..?” he looks at me a bit surprised and confused “What do you mean y/n I'm showing my affection and love for you” he looks at my eyes then lips then back up to my lips “No this doesn't feel right you don't….Are you okay this doesn't seem like something you think about clearly” I know I want his attention and his kisses but it feels like he's thinking of someone else..not someone Lucy..

“You don't want this you think you do but you love her..” I say “Right now you don't know what you want to be what makes you happy” *I say as I hold a smile and angle face holding tears back pushing the one I want to be happy “Lucy will cherish you as much as I will” he nods and slips out of my room my house like he was never even there the only reaches left were the stolen kisses of mine.

How do we think about this chapter? Is it good for your guys' standards I'll try to make the third one a time skip to after what goes down in the book and snows return back to the Capitol.

please like 😘

SHOUTOUT TO @edb954 for some of the inspiration and @watercolorskyy

#coriolanus snow x reader #fanfic #coriolanus snow #reader #tom blyth x resder

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come-away-with-me87 · 6 months ago

Text

The Art of Love Chapter 4

Chapter 3 here

******

You typically wore a blouse, pants, and ballet flats to school; it was the most comfortable type of outfit to move around and teach in. On Monday, though, you opted for a different outfit. There was no special reason, you thought to yourself. Today, you decided to wear a pale blue, flowy sundress with a white cardigan, and wedge heels. You took a look at yourself in the full-length mirror in your bedroom, did a little spin, and thought you looked presentable enough. Again, you thought to yourself, there was no special reason for the change in outfit; you just wanted to try something different today. At least that's what you told yourself.

You made it to work at your usual time, and as the students started trailing in, many of them complimented you in their own adorable ways. "You look pretty today, Miss L/N!" one student exclaimed. They always knew how to bring a smile to your face in one way or another. That morning, Mirio dropped Eri off again at school, just as he did on her first day. "Good morning, Miss L/N!" Mirio said with a wide smile. You couldn't help but smile back at him; he had such an infectious personality. "Good morning to you, Mirio. It's nice to see you again." His smile beamed even more when you said that. "Mr. Aizawa will be picking Eri up at school today; he mentioned having a meeting with you?"

"That's right," you replied to him. "That's good! Well, I'm off, I have classes to get to myself." With that, he gave you one last dazzling smile, gave Eri a small hand squeeze and a wink, and took his leave. After Mirio left, you looked down at Eri and gave her a sweet smile, "and how was your weekend, Eri?" She beamed up at you; she seemed a lot happier now than she did during her first week. "It was amazing! I got to spend time with Mirio and Izuku, who gave me candy apples! And I trained with Mr. Aizawa! He said I'm growing stronger every day!" Your heart beamed at her sentiment; she seemed so genuinely happy.

"That's wonderful, Eri! I'm so happy to hear you had a good weekend!" She beamed up at you again; she seemed like such a sweet girl. You couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of trauma that she has been through to bring her to your classroom, but you were grateful she was here. The bell finally rang, so Eri and the rest of the students took their seats. That day, you asked them to draw self-portraits. You were interested in how they viewed themselves.

While they drew their self-portraits, you reviewed their work from the previous week. You looked at Eri's colored mandala once again, thinking of Shouta stating the color choices she made were interesting. Those colors seemed to be the general theme of the majority of the creations she made; variations of purple, green and black. You were interested in talking more to Shouta about her past, and why she seems to normally choose these color themes. You stopped yourself mid-thought; why did your mind keep going to Shouta?

Even though you asked yourself this question, you couldn't lie to yourself; you found him intriguing. You were mesmerized from the moment you laid eyes on him. No man has made you feel anything in years, not since your dear Kento passed. You frowned at the thought of Kento; all of these years later, you did still miss him, and you felt guilty at the thought of even entertaining liking another man. You remembered Kento's funeral, how you decided then and there to close your heart off to relationships from that point forward.

But were you being fair to yourself in this decision? Kento loved you, and would want to see you be happy. You were happy…overall. You absolutely loved your job and your life, but you had to admit you felt lonely at times. You knew that, deep down, Kento would want you to find someone that will open your heart back up. That's not saying that it would necessarily be Shouta Aizawa; you don't even know the man, but Kento would want you to eventually open your heart back up to someone.

You were so lost in your thoughts that day, that you didn't even notice that the bell rang and school day was over. Suddenly, you had a line of students standing in front of you, waiting to hand in their self-portraits. While the students' parents came in to pick them up, you collected their self-portraits, telling them all you would see them the next day. Eri was last in line, and handed in her portrait; it had a child in a light tan dress, wearing what looked to be white bandages going down both arms and legs, and the background was solid black. "Eri…" you trailed off, when you noticed Shouta and another man in the doorway.

You put the drawing down, stood up and welcomed both men in. "Eri, did you have a good day today?" Shouta asked her. She beamed up at him and nodded her head. On the outside, she appeared to be a happy little girl; you could tell that the staff and students at the U.A. took good care of her. However, based on her artwork thus far, this poor little girl is definitely still experiencing inner turmoil. Shouta then turned to you, "hello, Y/N. This is my friend, Toshinori Yagi, or All Might, as you may know him." Toshinori bowed down to you, saying, "it's a pleasure to meet you, young Y/N." You bowed to him, returning the greeting.

Shouta spoke up, "Toshinori is going to take Eri back to the U.A. while you and I talk." He turned to look at Eri again, "Eri, I will see you back at the campus. You'll be on your best behavior tonight, right?" Eri beamed up at him and exclaimed, "I will!" Eri took her leave with Toshinori, leaving you and Shouta alone. You know he was there to talk about Eri, but you couldn't help but feel nervous. Shouta turned back to you, looked you up and down, saying, "you look very nice today." Your heart practically pounded out of your chest at the compliment. What was wrong with you? "Thank you," you breathily replied, "please, have a seat," as you motioned to the seat on the other side of your desk.

******

To be continued…

******

Tag list: @lili-pond ; @jaguarthecat ; @big-denki-energy

#aizawa shota #aizawa #shota aizawa #eraserhead #bnha shouta aizawa #mha aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x y/n #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #bnha #shouta aizawa #aizawa shota x you #aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #shota aizawa x female reader #shota aizawa x reader

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funficwriter · 1 year ago

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A Wolf and A Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)

Letters' Interlude - 1

A/N: So these aren't official chapters per say, just an extra to the story that explores the yandere dynamic I'm trying to put forth! Also, I love listening to romantic music while writing for this 🩵 Until I finish Chapter 2, enjoy!

Synopsis: Being a noble meant that marriage was a chess game, not an affair of love. Unfortunately for the pristine Balthazar family of Fontaine, Y/N has long been enamored with love and sought it out before their priorities. After her grey, boring time of courtesy and fake niceness, she meets Duke Wriothesley, who makes her yearn for the first time in her life, and it's the same for him. Threatened by the idea of losing this first, it seems they'll stop at very little to be together...

Warnings: Obsessive yandere language, graphic details in Wriothesley's.

Tag: @yue-caelum

From: Lady Y/N Balthazar - Balthazar Vacation Manor, Belleau Region, Fontaine

To: Duke Wriothesley of Meropide - Fortress of Meropide, Liffey Region, Fontaine

Dearest Duke,

I am not quite sure how to begin or structure my thoughts, so I hope you forgive me if this letter turns out messy. It's barely been 24 hours since our fateful meeting and I finally got some privacy. I should interest you in the fact that today's tea is Earl Grey. I'm having it right now, accompanied by a chocolate and strawberry mille-feuille. If you're ever feeling bold, I'd recommend this combination. Quite the contrast on the taste buds.

I realized that even with our cadence and how we enjoyed chatting together, there's still so much to know. How have you been doing? I'm presuming you're at the Fortress. How is life there? How do you spend your days there? Is it a lot of work? You told me a bit of the nurse. Sigewinne, if I recall correctly. Does she have a lot of patients? And what tea do you drink when you're feeling so tired and done with the world? (I'm partly asking this one for myself. Some days are like that.).

Though I must say, since Liffey is a bit far from Romaritime or the Court's region, you must have a good teleportation waypoint. Belleau is far, too, but by Focalors' name it is enjoyable. It's quiet, lush and lovely. The water is so nice to swim in too. I find that regular swimming is one of the most beautiful parts of my day. I might be heading into more dangerous territory saying this, but I believe you'd enjoy it a lot if I took you with me. If you had a day off and I showed you around, we could then swim in one of the lakes. It's so refreshing and fun, and a good break from the city.

Don't get me wrong; I love its bustle and life. But I know when we return, I'm going to have to look over these boring nobles' declarations, and meet with them more often. Speaking of which, I'm sorry to sound so forward, but... Well, are you interested in carrying this further?

I'd like to tell you something about my worldview. As you know, I read a lot, but last night I couldn't get into the 'why' due to mother's timing. As a child, I felt strangely bored with existence, maybe to a worrying point. That would explain my parents' fretting. I liked the dance and violin lessons, but there was something about my books that gave my gray life a bit of color. Unfortunately, having to come back to real life was a painful must. There were times where I thought to myself: "Is this really life? Boring, plain, and feeling wrong for watching everyone's intense reactions while I derived joy from so few things?". I didn't even want to think about my future as I become a woman. This was all before we met.

Ah, Wriothesley! I've been imagining it over and over in my head! I even stood outside in the cold and closed my eyes and pretended you were right next to me... Imagine my pain when I confronted reality, mixed with the excitement I felt remembering you! Even now, I can't stop kicking my feet as I write this. For the very first time, I was proven wrong. I was mistaken about life, and who said mistakes were bad? After years of chasing perfection, believing it was beauty and goodness... Why, I might have committed the most beautiful fault in existence!

Will you please prove me wrong again? I know I might get greedy and stick to my old worldview, just for it to happen again. But I swear, I'll be good and I'll stop. I just want to feel my entire body and soul rattling in excitement once more. And you're the only one that happens with.

Mother and Father are planning another social, soon after we return to the Court's region. My understanding says you're not often social, so if you don't want any part of it (or even, if I'm being too intense), discard this letter. I must go now, but if you're as invested as I, I will be awaiting a response. And if Celestia is kind, I will be open for more. I'll be open for anything if it's with you.

Yours truly,

Lady Y/N Balthazar

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

From: Duke Wriothesley of Meropide - Fortress of Meropide, Liffey Region, Fontaine

To: Lady Y/N Balthazar - Balthazar Vacation Manor, Belleau Region, Fontaine

To my cherished Lady,

I would like to start off by expressing my most feverish thanks, for reasons beyond enumeration. You taking the time to send me this lovely letter is the least of them. It is generally good form for a Duke to answer quick when he can, but I was so overjoyed with your letter's contents, I re-read it many times to take in all the joy you graced me with. I was also very touched with your personal confiance in me, so I'm also writing to return the favor.

First off, do you know how much I yearn to hear about your day, down to the little details? You talked a good deal about Belleau. I didn't care much about that region before, but now? All I've been thinking about is those fresh waters and woods you praised so highly. The only imagination I entertained was you, holding my hand, whispering that there were no nosy gossipers or greedy parents. Just the two of us, and the lake was all ours to swim in until we couldn't.

If it makes you laugh, I thought about it so much, I almost mistakenly wrote some prisoners' region tab as Belleau. Had Sigewinne not been near, the administrative mistake would have been a pain to fix. Are you laughing? I hope for it with all my heart.

And I want to know more. I want to know whether Earl Grey is your favorite, or you're only taking it because it's been brewed at that time. I want to know which chocolate you like best. Which books you're currently reading, and why you're so interested in lycanthropes without a hint of discrimination. Will you tell me more? If we get the chance to talk with less barriers, will you enlighten me with you?

After getting to know your old worldview, I question just how alike we are. It's easy for two people to share superficial interests. But when one feels so dissected, so naked knowing about another's deeper life and secrets, you can't help but question whether Celestia really does link souls. Whether you once knew them, or whether fate can be so perfect to send such a person your way. I'm sure you felt terrified writing it. Your mailbox may be private, but who knows when your family feels nosy and reads it? You know of the risks that come with such correspondence, especially as a maiden. Despite that, you didn't throw it into the trash. You wrote it, and sent it to me, letting me know about you. You may have just intoxicated me, and now I feel like I might die if that is all I know of you.

As respect to this, I'll confide in you, only it may be a little graphic. "If you feel queasy after this, feel free to end our correspondence here."... Is what I wish I could say with full honesty, because after that night, I'm not sure whether I can really be okay with that outcome.

I used to commit crime, both petty and serious. Such was the life of an orphan at the time. Being little fish wasn't an option; You had to be the top dog or get eaten alive. I opted for the first, even if it landed me in prison later on. My convictions range quite a bit, but once I grew up, I renounced crime. Even insignificant things. I wanted to leave that behind me.

Forget the obvious stealing sweets from the kitchen. When I saw that slimy Duke Arya talking to you, touching your shoulder, acting as if he always knew you and your wedding was tomorrow, I never felt the urge to murder as much as I did that night. The reasons behind my old violent crimes felt so small next to the ugly sight in front of me. You clearly didn't want him, but he kept going, as if you'd magically change your mind and be into slimeheads like him. How dare he be the reason you were pulled apart from me? Where does he get the gall to take you, act like you're owed to him if your parents decided?

How I wanted to end his pathetic standing, laughing, breathing. How I wanted to use my vision and punch his head out into an ice block, then freezing his wrangling body so he wouldn't mess up the carpet. How I wanted to lunge at him, bite, claw and make a bloody mess out of him. What did it matter if I perpetuated half-wolf stereotypes, when he was doing this? Which would hurt him more? Only one idea stopped me: You might not react to a show of violence so well. Oh, if I traumatized you, I'd never forgive myself. Being sent back to jail would be too light a punishment for a beast like that.

Please don't worry about transport, or ask about my attendance. I'm determined to attend that social. I'm so happy you told me about this in advance; I'm going to be seeing you, in all your radiance and beauty that make the world pale. So long as that happens, all is well for now. In the meantime, I'm adding some final touches to my declaration, and eagerly waiting for our next meeting, and hopefully the time I can freely take you into my arms, kiss you and prove the both of us wrong about everything.

With all the love I can hold,

Duke Wriothesley

#genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere wriothesley #yandere wriothesley x reader #yandere reader #yandere fontaine x reader

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myrtles-and-blood · 6 months ago

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𖤓 Lucifer, the Light Bringer, Prince of Hell 𖤓

This is pretty long and corny, it's mostly for Lucifer and that's it. In case someone relates.

The freedom from your arms, bloody wings. A leap without faith, unbearable agony.

But the floor does not keep me for long. There is no bone that does not heal, there is no body that does not fight to live.

Without you I am everything I have never been, I finally cry with joy.

Quick poem without any pattern for Lucifer, but I would spend all my time writing for him. There's no special occasion for this offering.

I wanted to make this as a way of describing how I see him. He's very tall and lean, usually with a black suit and depends if he has his jacket on or not. Long black straight hair, and his eyes appear for me in many colors (red, blue, gold, black, and sometimes he mimics my eye color, so a blue/green weird color). He's very pale and has sharp features, and as we know he is very handsome, too.

I think I talked about this before but this is my blog and I do what I want:

I met Lucifer when I was really stressed because I couldn't write something for an assignment. I thought about writing about christian mythology because I started having a really hard interest in it.

I was having yet another faith crisis, but I did feel a heavy, tall presence on the right side of my bed. I was writing about Lucifer here, so I kind of thought it was him. I was extremely nervous, shaking and I just couldn't look at him (where I thought he was).

So I asked him (trying to appear normal about the situation) to help me write this, put some creativity in my head, I don't know, something.

I'm not gonna post it here, but I am really, really proud of it, and I got the highest score and a really good note from my teacher. I thanked him, of course, but that was it.

He appeared one or two more times randomly. However, he was living rent free in my head all the time, every day. There was not a day I didn't think about him. I started reading info about him, started to look into books about him, fiction about him that wasn't shit, but I didn't have time for anything.

One day I got tired. I couldn't think without thinking of him, and I was going nuts. So I told him (reinterpretation of the situation, he is very different now and there's a context behind his words)

"Hello, you have been in my head for a long time, and I want you to help me with —— because I think we have a pretty good connection and, to be honest, I just can't stop thinking about you"

He told me "Good, good. I'm fine with it. I'm not going to do anything, though. Do whatever you feel like you want to do, and we'll see how that turns out. I don't think you're gonna last a week, you're weak about all of this"

"That is... rude. I don't know, I don't trust myself much on this but I want to try"

"If you don't trust yourself, why would I trust you? Again, do whatever you want and call me if you need me, but I don't want you to waste my time like you've done before with others. I have better things to do than being around someone as irresponsible as you with your own time" and he was gone.

He caught me with a really good humor, because I took that as a base to get started. I finally made his altar (it's very small and cramped but he thinks it's nice), and talked to him a lot. I insisted I wanted some signs because I thought I was going crazy, and since then I've been seeing white and grey feathers everywhere I go to cheer me up.

He listens to me, he likes to listen to my opinion and likes when I want to hear his advice. He cares when I tell him something when I'm stressed and gives me great advice. He likes roses and I like drying them so he can always have some in his altar. I never liked the sun much but since I met him, the light feels different. I have a place to cry, and stars to look at, because they look back at me. I have someone that smiles when they look at me, and I have the best source of inspiration in the world.

I still think I sound extremely crazy, I hate being corny, but he's just really nice to be around. He's dad 🫶🏼

I hope that anyone that wishes to work with him has the best experience, because he is the best.

Ave Lucifer 🌌

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telvess · 1 year ago

Note

This is just a suggestion but can I please ask for a Poseidon Hades and Thor with a moray eel darling

But how would they react to meeting her children

Just a suggestion this is what she looks like;

I didn't know how to write it at first and I'm still not sure if these kinds of headcanons are what you were looking for.

Their reaction to your moray eel children (Poseidon, Hades, Thor)

Your children are troublemakers. Especially your daughter. Her one year younger brother holds the remnants of respect for your commands, but with each day passing you could tell that he is becoming more and more similar to his sister.

Having difficult children has brought you many embarrassing situations. Many gods stopped acknowledging you because of them. You couldn’t blame them. You couldn’t blame your children either, since it was their nature, after all.

Poseidon

He is the Tyrant of the Seas, ruler of the realm you live in, which makes him your king. You knew each other through Proteus, his servant. Poseidon knew you had children.

His first meeting with them was unexpected, because your children decided to visit him on their own behind your back. Once they showed up at his palace, they sneaked under Proteus’ nose and found Poseidon in his chambers.

All three of them weren’t too happy about it. Poseidon immediately recognized the distinctive color of their skin and their resemblance to you. If he was surprised, his face didn’t show it. Your children, on the other hand looked at him with a bit of suspicion, as if they were checking him out.

„You keep stealing our mom!” said your son to which your daughter nodded. Poseidon’s eyes widen for a split second at the accusation. At first he thought you brought your children with you, but now he realized they had came on their own.

He had to admit - they were something else. They had that self-confidence typical of children, bordering on stupidity, but he expected nothing less from their kind. After all, they were from your blood. As the King of the Seas, Poseidon knew better than anyone how dangerous and aggressive you could be in defense of something.

„Your mother chooses to spend her time with me” was his dry reply. Your son looked at his sister, not knowing how to answer. He felt a little doubtful. She looked at Poseidon with confidence that the Most Fearsome God shared, and said haughtily: „I’ll only allow this because you’re my king!”

„How grateful I am” whispered Poseidon starring at your two children.

Hades

Even if Hades is the brother of their king, your children will not spare him. You knew this and warned Hades in advance (you also apologised, just in case…).

Fortunately for you, your children were caught in the middle of preparing the prank. You shouted at them, but stopped when Hades - to your surprise - approached your daughter and knelt down next to her, so they were at the same level.

„Young lady, as the elder sibling myself, I must instruct you to not set a bad example to your younger brother,” he said in a calm but firm tone. Your daughter looked at him in silence for a few seconds before she announced indignantly: „Why not? I need someone to stand guard!” You saw Hades trying to keep nonchalant expression, but the corners of his lips twitched slightly.

Hades was a little surprise when he first saw your children. Compared to you, they had much more animal features and were definitely, well… uncouth.

Little troublemakers… watching them brings back memories of his brothers. He lets them to be themself, but is too clever to fall for any of their pranks. If they get out of control, Hades shares with them the story of Typhos, imprisoned in Tartarus, near Hades’ palace. This earns him some respect since he was the one who defeated the monstrous snake giant.

Thor

Thor heard a lot about your children before he met them, partly from you, partly from gossips. He was quite aware of what to expect. He wasn’t worried, innocent pranks and jokes didn’t phase him, Loki performed almost every kind of prank on him.

You didn't have to organize the first meeting. Your daughter decided it would so funny to put slime on Mjölnir’s handle, and then hid nearby to see the results of their silly prank. Thor had to admit it was clever idea; after all, it worked. As he tried to lift the hammer, Mjölnir slipped from his hand over the star railing and fell with a loud bang into the grove below. Some of the elves screamed terrified and ran away, but what intrigued him the most were giggles and laughs coming from around a corner.

„You shouldn’t prank someone who can catch you,” he told them once he found them. The children giggled, carefree and not innocent. They were very proud of themselves.

Thor took them to you and in silent listened how you reprimanded them. It was obvious that their apology wasn't sincere, but Thor accepted it without a second thought.

To Thor, your children resembled you a lot. He wasn’t very familiar with ocean creatures; to him, the webbed ears and fins on hands of yours and your children looked identically. But you looked much more human in your elegant movements than your children. They were so clumsy on the land that Thor was surprised that they were so willing to leave the ocean and follow you to his palace.

He gained their curiosity by telling the story of how he defeated Jörmungandr - the World Serpent who dwelled in the world sea. It was a legendary creature that spread terror across the oceans, so of course someone who killed that beast was worthy of their mommy.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror hades #ror poseidon #ror thor #snv hades #snv poseidon #snv thor #udj

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saltsicklover · 1 year ago

Text

Title: Fated to Run - Fated to Fly ꨄ︎ Part Two

Read Part One

Part Three Coming Soon!

Prompt from THIS ASK

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader SOULMATE AU

Word Count: 4000+

Rating: T

Warnings: Swearing, Lots of Crying, Parent Trouble and Reconciliation, Insecurity,

We don't get to meet Bobby yet, I'm sorry!

My father's office looks the same. Honesty it has looked the same for as long as I can remember, and it's not just this office either. Every single one of my father's offices has looked just this way. Tan walls, that sort of sad, off beige color that every military installation, from this side of the world to the next, think outfit them so well. There's always a strong oak desk, sometimes it's pine, but either way it's always a sturdy piece of furniture that has no business around the thrown together particle board of the neighboring pieces.

My father has always brought in his own chair. It's faded leather is always well conditioned and it's warn in. Warn in just the way that when you sit in it, you can almost feel the ever lasting presence of the many years my father has sat in that very seat. He has hauled it with him all around the country, always in unaccompanied baggage so it would be sitting in his office and ready for him upon his arrival. He used to joke that if he made it there before his beloved chair, his time stationed there would be hell in a handbasket.

The day he got stationed at Top Gun as the Air Boss, that chair took it's rightful place behind the new desk. The same desk with empty drawers and too many files preemptively stacked atop it. But that's just how it is, right? After all, it's been that way since my father made Commander and things don't look to be changing anytime soon.

The decanter on his book shelf has been wiped clean of dust and fingerprints. No doubt filled with any run of the mill whiskey that may find it's way into my father's hands. It's an office staple, that decanter's about as old as myself, but the crystal still shines after 25 years, especially after a good cleaning. There's a bottle of good whiskey in the bottom drawer of his desk, sat beside a bottle of the best vodka he could find. Always ready for the COMPACFLT to drop by on a moment's notice, though the Admiral has never made himself known long enough to break it out.

I sit and stare out the windows, the ones that make up the back wall of his office. There's always windows, but strangely the size seems to correlate with rank. One might think it would depend on the building, on the base, on the climate or area of the world, but what I've come to find out is the higher the number on your Pay Code, the bigger your fucking office widows.

That, and the less time you have for your family. It seems the higher that Pay Code number, the more time I've managed to spend with clerks and assistants. More visitation with office windows and the low reflection that stares back at me as I try to focus on the air field. Aircraft take off and land, the service men and women knocking out their required flight hours as the sun moves its way throughout the sky. But still, there are times I catch my own eyes in that low light reflection, but there are less tears now. Or there had been, until that fucking incident at the airport.

Truth be told, I haven't stopped shaking. In that damn reflection of my father's office window I can see both my tear stained cheeks and the confused looks on Rhett and Jake's faces. The images twist together. It's all hurt, every last piece.

I'm sure the three of us would be a sight if we were all standing in the same place, the boys with those same lost looks, hurt flashing through there eyes, and me, red rimmed irises and damp skin. Skin that is already threatening to chap over from the way it stings. I should have savored the way they so fiercely defended me. The way they folded me into themselves and kept me safe. Isn't that what home is, if only so briefly? A lifted wing to a chick in the same way their kind eyes were to me. It's a shame, the way it all came crashing down with those four little words.

There's not even a part of me that doesn't ache when the memory of only hours ago runs through my head. Their touch still ghosts over my shoulders. Phantom fingerprints left upon my upper arms, still smoldering, smoking as they cool.

Friendship has to be written into the strands of the universe, it just must be. Hidden deep within the stitching, taking a back seat to the drips of ink that are marred into skin, so easy to see. Because if it isn't, my soul shouldn't feel this heavy. It couldn't feel this heavy. So it must be. It must be.

There's mumbling coming from just beyond the fire door of the office, voices that I can't make out by ear but I know those tell tale footsteps that can't help but get closer. My heart pounds in the same way his footsteps all but reverberate through the floor. The voices get closer, and closer, but I can't seem to focus on anything but the air field- the vision of my own red rimmed irises in the glass of the O-9 sized window.

"Sir, I'm trying to tell you that-" The words come through muffled then clear as the door nearly squeaks open. A call to DPW and those hinges wouldn't grind, but I know door hinges aren't exactly on the high priority list for a Vice Admiral.

"Birdie?" That damn nickname's spoken by my father, in that surprised tone that is just a little too irregular completely flattens all my resolve. The floodgates open, or moreover, they break, just as I turn to meet his eye.

"Hi Dad," The words come out too wet and too close to a sob, but we both just stand there looking at one another. In the time we stare at each other, the Earth has rotated almost two hundred eighty miles around it's access. Four hundred fifty kilometers in roughly fifteen seconds. His hand is still curled around the doorknob, the brass of the handle turned down just so. A Lieutenant stands next to my father, an apologetic look hung upon her features. The tightness of her bun pulls her eyebrows up, barely noticeable, but it makes her look a little more surprised, a little bit more of herself that's usually hidden under the mask, just barely breaking through.

It's another two hundred eighty miles before my father makes a move. He enters further into the office while the Lieutenant slips the door shut. I can almost feel how the handle must be warm beneath her slender fingers. The same warmth is rolling off of my hands; all of the nervous energy having nowhere to go but cycle out to my fingertips only to crawl back up my arms once more.

"Hey, kid," My father speaks after another moment passes, another few miles, "I- uh,"

There is so much hanging between us. After spending so many years arguing, instead of words left unsaid between us they all seem to be hanging in the air. Stiff and starched like a uniform collar, textured underneath my fingertips. The way they brush against my skin makes me itch as I inch closer. I wish to choke on them; on the words, longing for a moment that I had something else to say. Some sort of words found stuck somewhere between the tightness of my throat and the stickiness of my gums, lips dry and cracking under the pressure. Instead, they all still hang between us, a rickety old rope bridge while the few feet between us is a canyon's expanse.

The average argument lasts ten minutes, and families tend to have around a hundred arguments a year. That's a thousands hours of disagreements that stand between us over the last year alone. A hundred and twenty five words per minute. That's one hundred twenty five thousand words and I can feel each and every letter that hangs between us in this moment, thick between us like a fog. I can't seem to breathe.

The only thing that seems real is the hot tears falling down my cheeks and the sight of my father's downturned smile. There is so much pity there, or maybe it's remorse in the way one is remorseful for not appreciating a song the first time it's played through. It's the missing of the baseline and the way the bridge carries through to the end of the score. His eyes are gentle, in the way roses are- pricking, piercing from just the right angle.

"It's been a long time, Dad, I've missed you," The words have been hidden in the spaces between my molars, stuck there so long I barely recognized their honesty as they fell from my tongue. My lips catch on their sharp edges and I swallow down the acrid taste of bile and copper. Wiping at the new found streaks of tears, smearing them across the heat of my cheeks, my fingers come back tinged with watery mascara smudges.

"It's been too long, Birdie, sweet pea, too long," There's a slight hesitation in his tone, but it's all too genuine, in a way that makes my stomach turn. The nausea isn't new, not today. "How was-" I know he's going to ask about the last year, about the travel and the time spent in-between our arguments but I can't keep the words from slipping off of my tongue.

"I need to know about your Aviators," He stops, the words hitting him straight in the face leaving mouth hanging open mid sentence. His eyebrows scrunch with the narrowing of his gaze, the confusion evident in the way his head cocks gently to one side before he straightens it right back again. Parts of my father are slipping past the Admiral, like sand through fingertips, but he does everything he can to hold onto his hardened exterior.

"My Aviators?" There is so much hidden in the way the syllables crackle from his throat. He looks as though he has words still stuck to the roof of his mouth, words he keeps tonguing at to keep them hidden behind his teeth.

"I- yes," My brain is spiraling just a little to fast for my mouth to keep up. I can almost feel the way my nervous system is spiking, my neurons firing as my tongue tries to say the words in the forefront of my mind. The deep breath I force into my lungs does nothing to slow my thoughts, but my father's shoulders relax at the sight of my own shoulders dropping slightly. It's a shallow effort but it helps, if only a little.

"I met one of your Aviators today, at the airport," He nods in understanding, "Blond, tall, from Texas. Super nice. Said his name was Jake,"

"Jake?" My father huffs out, scrubbing a hand over his face. "A Texan with one of those shit eating grins?"

"He had a nice smile, if that's what you mean," I reason. The feeling of an impending argument is like static in the air, the hair on my arms standing on end as gooseflesh breaks out over my bare skin. That feeling is acknowledged with a quick glance between us, a look that has him moving closer to his desk. He picks up a framed photograph from it's corner before holding it out to me. I finally move closer, separating some of the distance between us. It's strange, being so close together after spending so long apart. I often wonder if that's how all children's relationships with their parents are after they grow up, or if my father and I are stuck in a unique form of perpetual misunderstanding. I take the photograph from his hand.

"This him?" He points at a man in the back row of the photograph, big smile and kind eyes. It's definitely him, that much I am certain of. There is just something so recognizable about that smile of his, the way the lines on either side of his mouth bend with a dash of mirth, bracketing perfect teeth. It's sick, really, how nice his teeth are.

There are a handful of other people shoved into the photograph together. Jake has his arm thrown around another man who sports a mustache and messy hair. That man looks at Jake like he emits pure light. Eyes squinted slightly with a smile too big to be contained with a closed jaw. That's Rooster. That's Jake's soulmate. There's no other explanation as to why the blond would be holding the other man so incredibly close, with his hands gripping into the material of Rooster's flight suit.

To Jake's other side is a woman. Her smile is smaller, almost practiced, but true joy emits from her eyes. With slicked back hair and sharp brows, she looks all business, like a woman not to be fucked with. But a friend, maybe? Her nametape is too small to read, but as one of the only women in the squad, she won't be too hard to pick out of the crowd. It's the man standing next to her that throws me. Another familiar face stands to her side, Rhett, only with shorter hair and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. My eyebrows scrunch, mimicking my father's expression.

"Yeah, that's him," I confirm, my eyes still tracking over the faces in the photograph.

"Why do you ask, sweet pea?"

"I met a man on accident, really, his name is Rhett, and his friend was with him, this man here, Jake. We actually ended up on the same flight" I watch my father nod in understanding, one of his hands coming up to brush at his nonexistent five o'clock shadow. I huff, averting my eyes for the next part. "I might have had my soulmate sentence encounter earlier this afternoon," The confession is sheepish at best. I don't meet his eyes. There's no point. I know the expression he wears now and I know I can't handle it in this moment. There's already been enough crying.

"Was it with him? With Hangman?" I watch from the corner of my eye as my father's eyebrows knit together impossibly tighter. His voice is pinched at the callsign, lips tight around it.

"Yes, it was him, but that's not really the point, Dad," My eyes trail over him in the photograph again, but I'm pulled back to Rhett, confusion gnawing inside of my skull, just behind my eyes, "How old is this photograph, because this is Rhett right here, and he told me he wasn't military," I want to ask him if he really knows his aviators all that well, considering the lack of acknowledgement on his features.

"That photo was taken after their last mission, wasn't more than a few weeks ago, right after they all graduated their advanced training. It's recent, and there's nobody in that squad named Rhett,"

"There has to be! This is him, right here next to that woman. I swear it's him!" My fingernail, all chipped polish and sparkles, clinks against the glass, my father leaning closer to get a better look before plucking the frame from my gently shaking hands.

"Sweet pea, I think you're mistaken," His tone sounds like his words are treading a minefield somewhere deep in his throat. I can't help but cough at the thought. That tension bristles between us again, electric like a storm. My fingers knit through my hair to keep from chipping more of my nail polish from my already scraped up nails.

"That," My father taps the glass with his finger, "Is Lieutenant Floyd"

"Lieutenant Floyd?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Floyd," There's a faux confidence in his tone, the same one he used to use when he would call home to say he'd only be gone a little while longer.

"Dad," I raise my eyebrows as I finally swing my eyeline back up to meet his, "What is Lieutenant Floyd's first name?"

He sputters a bit, a hand rubbing at the lack of stubble on his chin. There's a sort of furrow to his brow, one I recognize, even if the rest of his features are laid out in a way I have never come to know. My father has always been a sure man, steadfast in his actions, information spread out in his brain easy to access. This grappling for an answer is unlike him, but it makes him seem impossibly more human.

"Oh, Dad," The words are spoken with slight exasperation laced in the low chuckle that springs forth from deep within my chest. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I'll just ask the very nice Lieutenant who let me in earlier, she seemed... knowledgeable,"

I am met with the deep roll of my father's eyes, his hands no longer scrubbing over his face, instead he rubs carefully at his temples. His reaction makes me grip a little harder at my hair. It's stupid, this battle between us. Something left over from the strife of my youth; what we clung to with white knuckles and bloody nail beds just to keep a semblance of a relationship. It's all adolescent animosity stripped to adulthood anonymity, achingly arduous.

"Honestly, Birdie," The words travel on an exhale, "I don't know his first name. Hell, I don't know most of them, especially if they don't give me trouble. I've always called him Lieutenant, barely ever needed Floyd tacked on the end,"

My father shrugs his shoulders unceremoniously, plopping the photograph back down onto the corner of his desk. He leans back into the long line of his desk, his usually pristine tan uniform wrinkling with the way he almost folds in on himself. My tongue flicks over my teeth as I fight the grimace I can feel rising over my features. I try and school my face back into pleasant nonchalance, much like my father usually does, however I think it's a skill better mastered with each star pinned to his collar.

"Can I say something?" There's too much honesty in the way the words crackle out. I nod; it's easier that way. My hands find home near my hips, my thumbs tucked into my belt loops in a shallow attempt to keep from continuing the pull on my roots.

"For what feels like forever now, it's just been you, your brother and I against the world. Just the three of us, and I know not having your mother has been one of the most challenging things, for all of us. I know there has always been this bond that Arrow and I have had, and maybe it's because he is my son, or because he decided that the Navy was his calling too. Either way, I know that there's a foundation there, one that you and I just don't have," I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I do my best to blink them back. The more he speaks, the more the sight of him swims.

"But, I want you to know that even though you and I have struggled," There's a little trace of humor there, but neither of us comment on it, "I love you so fucking much, kid. So much that my chest aches. And I knew this day was coming- your soulmate encounter. God, kid, I am so excited for you, but so fucking scared because you're my baby bird and I don't want anything bad to happen to you, I love you too much,"

There are tears steaking down his cheeks, a sight I haven't seen since my mother passed away. It makes my own chest ache in turn, seeing the strongest man I have ever known begin to crumble. With two quick steps, I am in my father's embrace. His arms are warm, cradling me into his chest, my face into the sandalwood scent of his collar. The stars pinned there less of an obstacle between us, now. He lets a land run over my spine, palm flat to my back, the warmth pooling through my top.

"I'll love you no matter what, kid, even if your soulmate is some military rat like me," He laughs, low and rumbling, into my hair.

"I love you, too, Dad, so much," I mumble into his collarbone, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. I can feel my tears sinking into the cotton of his shirt, the tan darkening with moisture. He doesn't seem to mind, or if he does, he doesn't say a thing. We stand there like that for a while, embracing. It's my father who breaks the silence.

"So, kid," He clears his throat in an attempt to hide the mangled bit to tears that still sits on the back of his tongue, "Tell me, how did it all happen? What did Hangman say?" The distaste in my father's tone is evident. I pull away from the embrace with a rueful laugh, one that stirs around that anxious feeling that's been ever present since the airport.

"Well," The word is all sigh, "Jake, Hangman or whatever you call him, was on the phone listening to his voicemail and Rhett had asked him who the message was from, you know? It was a pretty long message," I babble out the last sentence, trying to get to the point, but the words are stuck somewhere under my tongue.

My father just nods at me, allowing me the space to continue. Instead, I plop down into one of the chairs that sits in front of his desk, ones that are meant for official meetings rather than anxiety soaked realizations. I scrub a hand over my face before winding my fingers through my hair again, gentler this time. He stares at me, patient eyes and expression neutral. It's practiced, but genuine. I stare at he ground in front of my shoes when I can no longer meet his gaze.

"Rhett asked who it was," I begin again, back tracking a bit, "And Jake looked at him and said Oh, it's just Bob and that was it. I've had these words on my skin for so long that I thought hearing them would be so easy, but Dad, I panicked,"

"Oh Birdie, it's okay," My father hums, giving me a small grin on the side of reassurance, "It's not always like the stories, the fairytales are just to give us hope, but that's not how life is supposed to play out. It's alright,"

"It gets worse," My words are wet, "I ran, Dad, I ran. I heard him say that and I ran out of the airport and into the first cab I could find. I came straight here, I didn't know what else to do. I didn't even stick around to figure out exactly who Bob is to Jake. God, this whole situation gives me as much anxiety as a baby on board a pond jumper, look at me, I'm shaking like a fucking leaf."

"What did you just say?"

"I said I'm shaking like a leaf, look at me!" I laugh, but it catches in my throat and comes out all gargled. I hold my hands out, watching the way they tremor at the thought of it all.

"No, not that," My father shakes his head, "The thing about the pond jumper,"

"I dunno, Dad, it was an analogy," I reply, it's all furrowed brows and tired voice. as if it could be anything else at this point. I watch my father's expression turn quizzical, his eyes tracking though the air as if he's watching a hop. His nose twitches for a second before he schools his expression back. His hands tighten a bit around the edge of his desk, then he's clicking his tongue to punctuate a sort of silent eureka moment.

"Come with me, kid, I think there's someone we need to go talk to," Then he's pushing himself form the desk and heading towards the door with the same conviction the Admiral meets everything with.

"What?" I push myself from my seat but can't keep my shoulders from sagging. He's stopped at the door, turning back to offer just a hint more.

"I think you and I need to go see Captain Mitchell," There's distain in his voice at the name. I bite at my lower lip, tucking my hands back through my belt loops.

"Why do we need to see Captain Michell? Isn't he the man you can't stand?" I ask, following after him. The whole thing seems futile but a curiosity thrums between my ribs. We pass the nice Lieutenant's desk, her seat vacant, before turning down the hall. It's not long before we are out on the air field and heading towards one of the large carriers.

#ftrftf #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd angst #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #soulmate bob floyd #bob floyd soulmate au #icemav #father figure iceman #top gun maverick fanfiction #saltsicklover #requested prompt #saltsickrequests #father beau cyclone simpson #father cyclone

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cryptidfuckery · 9 months ago

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Hey so you don’t have to reply to this but I’ve been having a career crisis lately and considering other vocational paths. One of these careers just so happens to be hair. I was wondering if you could tell me what made you want to become a hairdresser?

Ohhh this might get long but

First things first my mom is a hairdresser. Me becoming one wasn't a case of "I'm going to take over my mom's business" because she's been a sole proprietor booth renter for probably over 30 years now. She doesn't run a salon with other people under her, it's just her and her clients. If I worked under her I would have just been taking money our of her pocket.

But my mom being a hairdresser definitely influenced me! Getting to watch her work and own her own business my whole life helped me understand exactly what to expect out of the industry, and what I would have to do to be successful.

But me actually deciding to become a hairdresser started with me being absolutely miserable in my third semester of college. I loved studying sociology, but school and I don't mix well. I also realized that while I loved what I was studying, I didn't have any real interest in the professions usually associated with what I was majoring in. (Didn't want to do any kind of counseling, hate math so no stats work, research was the most enticing but too close to how school works and I Know would have been Miserable ultimately)

So one day being absolutely miserable and stressed around finals I sat myself down and forced myself to think about what the next 5-10 years would look like. I realized that if I stayed in college it would be to finish, find a job in my degree, then eventually when I have the time and money again I'd go to cosmetology school. (At the time I thought I was going to be a makeup artist. Holy shit fuck that noise. Not for me.)

And it just kind of clicked for me. Why am I spending all this money on a degree i (while I loved) did not really want? Especially when I could finish cosmetology school in under a year with less money than 2 semesters of college would be? Especially since you can start making money directly out of cosmetology school and continuously build after that as you gain more clients.

My final advice is this. There is a hairdresser for everyone and there are clients for every hairdresser. Genuinely the best thing you can do is be yourself and the right people will find you. And then they'll give your their friends, who like you too because you're their kind of people. And you get to choose absolutely what the fuck ever you want to specialize in. You can do exclusively color. Exclusively cuts. You can choose what style of cutting and coloring you want to learn from and you can completely switch that in the middle of your career. You can exclusively do texture treatments (perms, keratins, etc) if you're okay with so many chemicals in your body and bad smells! You can specialize in rat haircuts, which I honestly might try to do. (I have not done one yet. Someone let me do a rat haircut on them. Please. Rat haircut.) You can do everything! Also don't forget barbering!! Whole different school with different subsets and specializations, but many many cosmetologists cross over into both as well! I plan on eventually also acquiring a barbering license so I can truly be a one stop trans chop shop (mainly so I can offer my trans girlies clean shaves between electrolysis/Lazer appointments (iirc one can and cannot. I cannot be fucked to check rn)

So. Yeah. I think trades are absolutely the way to go right now in this economy. We provide services that everybody wants or needs, from hair to plumbing to carpentry to welding to auto mechanics to nail techs. There will always be a broken toilet, an oil change, a haircut needed.

Watch out for pandemics though. Woof.

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mikewheeleranti · 2 years ago

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damn it now i NEED an enemies to lovers garreth fic 😫

freezing

garreth weasley x reader

sypnosis: when you get partnered with the guy who hates you in astronomy, what do you do when he suddenly softens around you? enemies to lovers, forced proximity, garreth being cute

wc: 1.7k

a/n: anon is too real cuz where are the garreth lovers. this is enemies to lovers for a little bit... then its garreth PINING over reader

when professor shah announced the partners for the latest project, your heart dropped to your stomach. you were really trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but only one memory was playing on a loop in your mind.

'sirius can't be that hard to find. isn't it a dog?'

he was also brash and rude, not to mention disrespectful to professors and supplies. still, you pushed the thoughts of his earlier ignorance and convinced yourself he changed for the better. you were wrong. so, very, wrong. as soon as you walked over to what would be your shared working space, you saw him talking to the new fifth year.

"-bit of a prodigy when it comes to potions, if i do say so myself. so, are you willing to help me out?"

"i see that you are ever so humble, weasley." you soon come to find that he was asking the new student to steal something from honeydukes for him, which was not unusual. what was even less unusual was that they kindly declined, not fancying getting in trouble and losing house points.

"y/n, do you have to ruin everything? i was about to convince them!"

"oh i'm sure. i can't believe i'm saying this, but maybe you should spend some more time on your charm, or your exploding potions, or-" he cuts you off by pushing past you to sit at his seat.

"oh shove off."

when you finally got back to your common room, you were cold, irritated, and angry. it was bad enough that you forgot your scarf in the astronomy tower, which is at least 6 shifting staircases from your common room. what was worse is that it started snowing during your walk, which you're sure is melting in your hair now.

once you've showered and changed into warmer, more fitting, clothes for the weather and joined your friends by the fireplace, the cold mood didn't shift. they eventually caught onto your sour mood and asked you what was wrong.

"what's wrong? maybe the fact i got partnered with weasley-" you noticed the sense of pure hatred in your voice and winced a bit before continuing, "for the astronomy project, who is a complete idiot, despises me, and all he does is ask me for potions supplies! i'm just lucky if i never run into him again after this project." you knew you were probably being unreasonable and a bit unfair, but something about him and the way he was with the new fifth year aggravated you to another level.

luckily it didn't snow on your walk to astronomy today, but it was still freezing and your scarf was still gone. you were hoping you could find it somewhere, being colored with your house, but it was nowhere to be found. forgetting about the scarf, you decided to turn your project in to professor shah. finally going over to your table next to garreth, you hear him mutter something under his breath, and you almost miss it.

"proof that even a complete idiot can do a project." how did he find out? before you could think to say anything back, professor shah started her lesson, and you knew better than to talk during one of those.

when class had finished, you looked over to his spot to talk to him, maybe even apologize when you saw him storm out. fine, if he wanted a problem between you two so bad, there could be one, and seats would be changed soon enough anyways.

you still could not find your scarf, but nothing was stopping you from going to hogsmeade today. you needed to get gifts for your family and you made up for the lack of scarf in the best way you could. you were wearing a unreasonably large jacket and rain boots that looked too small for a 1st year. you were absolutely sure you looked ridiculous, but until you found your scarf, and your gloves that you could not find as of today, this was the best option. on the train, you were seated next to anne, who you've been growing extremely close with for the past year.

"what are you wearing? you must be freezing." was what she decided to greet you with when she sat across from you.

"anne, i'm fine. i'm just glad to be out of that castle for once." anne knew about your situation with a certain ginger and felt for you, a little. you were also sure she was keeping some of the thoughts on the situation to herself, which you begged her to tell you months ago.

'anne, please, please tell me!' she laughed and it echoed through the otherwise silent slytherin common room.

'if i know weasley as well as i think i do, you'll find out soon enough, trust me.'

'so you know something? anne, this is killing me!'

'hm.. i have an estimated guess. honestly, y/n, its obvious. it's your fault you're oblivious.' you're sure that in the moment she had more to say, and you quite honestly wish you let her finish before you threw a pillow at her head (or tried).

"well, you can be out and not look like you're begging merlin to freeze you to death."

"oh please, anne, you are so dramatic."

anne was not being dramatic. surely a blizzard was occurring, a scarf couldn't make this much difference. you were trying to find a store to go into, regretfully finding out most of them had already closed for the holidays. you were still blocks away from honeydukes, the only store you were sure was open. and warm. your search was stopped short when you get pulled into a shop that you don't know the name of, but by looking around you can guess it's some kind of pub. before you could scream, you feel a large hand cover your mouth. you know you shouldn't and every self defense advice given goes against this, but the warmth of the hand makes you relax against the back of-

wait, who is holding you?

"have you lost it completely? what is wrong with you?" you hear a soft but firm voice almost whisper in your ear. turning around to see who grabbed then plainly insulted you, the last person you expect to see is garreth weasley. you were already freezing and tired, the last thing you needed was to be dragged into one of his messes. any grateful thought you had for the mystery person pulling you into a warm place quickly fades.

"what's wrong with me? you're the one who grabbed me!" you go to push him away, not with any real force, but he stumbles back slightly before stepping back. you didn't really want to push him away, but at least he knew you were angry now. still, he didn't respond, but his hand found its way back to your face, this time resting against your forehead.

"you're freezing." you hated the way you longed for the warmth of his hand when he moved back. you also hated the way his voice was soft, losing all roughness he usually has with you. it sounded sweet, and you've come to miss both the sound of it and his warm hands. you watch as he unwraps his gryffindor colored scarf from his neck and places it around yours, throwing it over your shoulder. this not being enough for him, seeing how you are still shivering, he takes off his gloves and puts them on you. the moment shouldn't feel so intimate, because it's not, but it does. something about the way his gloves have so much extra space in them and the way he's looking at you. his eyes look soft, and filled with something that isn't familiar to you.

you eventually manage to utter out a "thank you" which breaks the long silence. you hear a loud bell ring, leading you to snap your head towards the door and garreth finally releasing his hold on you. when you see it's just anne searching for you with her brother and ominis, you relax a bit, but still step a good distance away from the weasley next to you, now bare of a scarf and gloves. anne notices his absence and your sudden presence of a red and yellow scarf and laughs loudly before covering her mouth. quickly saying something to her brother, the group walks back out, dragging ominis with them.

"i better get going... thank you, garreth."

"anne, i don't know what happened! it's just like, his whole personality around me shifted. he was actually nice to me, and he gave me his scarf. it was like he actually cared about me."

"and who says he doesn't? care about you, i mean. i don't know, y/n, but look at the big picture. he was only rude to you after you ignored him, maybe this is defensive. i mean please, he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars."

you should've gotten mad at her for defending him over you, started an argument, wonder where her loyalties lie, but you couldn't stop thinking about her last statement. you also knew she was right, your hatred was a bit unreasonable. it just doesn't make sense, you ignored him once and he decides to act normal around everyone but you?

you spent most of the next day in the library studying, knowing midterm exams were approaching quickly. on your way out, you decide to head out the back door, seeing as it was closer to your dorm. you were stopped in your tracks when you heard the door to the restricted section crack open, and you were once again dragged into an unknown place, and once again by garreth weasley. you're confused and tense up when you hear him mutter "petrificus totalus" offhandedly.

"what are you doing?" you were now looking up at him and he swears he could die there from the sight.

"i'm going to do what i meant to the other day, if you'll let me."

now inching towards you just until you feel him breathing on your face. he looks at you expectantly, but your mind blanks with him so close to you. something screams at you to just nod, so you do. you wrap your arms around his neck to come closer to him, finally meeting him in height. feeling his lips just barely graze yours, you're the one who fully closes the distance between you. the kiss is slow and soft, like he was with you the other day. soon enough, you both run out of air and have to pull away from each other.

"i have to say, i didn't expect you to be the shy type, garreth." smiling a bit up at him, he grins like a madman and pulls you back to him.

"can you blame me darling? you're magnificent."

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts #hogsmeade #garreth weasley #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley imagine #garreth weasley blurb #anne sallow

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vellaphoria · 1 month ago

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for the ask game… 30?

(also I know this isn’t on the list but is there any WIP you’re super excited about?)

Thanks for the ask! (and for the freeform question giving me the opportunity to rant about my WIPs! <3 ) 30. Biggest surprise while writing this year? I have a different answer for this one here, but I wrote a second answer since it occurred to me a bit earlier lol The most surprising thing was that in the middle of writing a DickTim oneshot, some random implied BruDick UST got in there somehow?? Which was surprising because I've never written brudick and don't generally read it. But the fic is going to do what the fic is going to do, I suppose 😂 Is there any WIP you’re super excited about? Absolutely!! One that I've been actively stopping myself from publishing parts of is the slowburn DickTim fic that I'm working on. It started as a oneshot of the two of them being stuck in a snowstorm together post Red Robin and having to work their shit out (and there was only one bed lol). Then it became a 5 + 1 of times they had shared beds. Aaaaand then it became a slowburn covering the arc of their relationship from A Lonely Place of Dying to post-RR. It's completely gone off the rails lol. The exact number keeps changing, but this thing currently has 60 planned chapters. I've written 65k words of it and it's probably not even a quarter done. But!! As I've been writing, I've also been re-visiting post-crisis comics with the two of them in it, which is fun since I haven't really taken the time to do that chronologically before. Excerpt from Chapter 2:

For the hundredth time that night, Dick looks at the last picture ever taken of him and his parents. It had arrived at the manor a week after he’d been moved in, sent in the mail by the couple who’d asked to have it taken. The edges are a bit worn, but he’s kept it out of the light and done everything he could to make sure that the colors don’t fade.

What would they want him to do?

He’s been turning that question over in his mind for hours now and he still isn’t sure. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to be sure…

They’d always told him that kids didn’t really run away to the circus anymore, but on the off-chance that one did, then the best thing to do was to be kind. Anyone running away like that was dealing with something serious in their life, and it was the right thing to do to try and find a way to help.

He can’t help but laugh a little, under his breath. From hypothetical runaway kids to whatever animals wandered through Haly’s looking for food and shelter, his parents had always had a soft spot for strays.

Not that this kid counts as a stray, exactly. Or that he ran away to join the circus.

Honestly it would be easier if he had.

The windows are a bit grimy from everyone who’s used this trailer over the years, but faint moonlight still shines through. Just enough of it to illuminate the rise and fall of the blankets on Dick’s bed.

A few days ago, he’d expected to spend most of his weekend helping out around Haly’s and prepping for the Saturday and Sunday night shows. Being ambushed by an over-eager kid from Gotham who looks like he weighs about ninety pounds soaking wet hadn’t been anywhere near his radar.

If he was in the Manor, he could have just relegated the kid to one of the many guest rooms. But if he was in the Manor, then the kid wouldn’t have felt the need to come looking for him, would he?

He sighs, letting his head fall back against the chair that he’d squeezed into the too-small space of the trailer. He tries not to wish Roy were here to offer him the strongest drink he could scare up.

On the bed, the kid shifts in his sleep, turning over. His face holds nothing of the frantic, intense expression he’d first come to Dick with, asking him to go back to Gotham.

And talk to Bruce. And be Robin again.

As if he hadn’t left that all behind him for good reasons.

As if Bruce hadn’t been very clear that he doesn’t need or want a partner ever again.

Maybe the kid would be less keen on the idea of Dick going back if he told him that Bruce erased every last trace of the last Robin from the Manor and Cave. Or if he told the kid that the large, dark bruise on his face was from Bruce’s fist. Then again… maybe he already knows? The little stalker broke into Dick’s apartment and rifled through his memories of better times. Despite being a teenager with no apparent training outside of what are probably judo lessons, he managed to take clear, distressingly up-close pictures of the goddamn Batman. He outright admitted that he knows who they are.

Dick’s not sure what to do about that. Anyone who knows their identities is a risk. And yet, this kid was able to figure it out… admittedly through means that wouldn’t be apparent to anyone who wasn’t as weirdly obsessed with his civilian persona as this kid seems to be. Even so, it’s dangerous to have people out there who know. What’s stopping some villain from snatching the kid off the street and making him talk?

He closes his eyes, one hand rubbing circles against his temple as he tries to will away the oncoming headache.

That’s reason enough to bring him to Bruce for questioning, even if he wasn’t right about Bruce going off the deep end. Even if every step Dick has taken to try and stop Bruce from spiraling has been rebuffed. Sometimes violently.

When his eyes open again, the kid is staring back at him. His blue irises are even harder to miss in the moonlight.

“I… um. Are you sure you don’t want the bed?” he asks. “I don’t mind sleeping in the chair…”

It’s not the first time tonight Dick has wondered if he should have just driven them directly to Gotham, despite the setting sun and the likelihood of catching Bruce in the volatile post-patrol fugue that has become all too common with the man these days.

“No, it’s fine,” he says. “I don’t sleep much anyway.”

The kid’s eyes get a little wider. A little brighter.

“Because of N-”

“Yes,” Dick says, cutting him off a bit more sharply than he intended.

If the kid notices, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he nods solemnly, as if Dick had just confirmed every suspicion he ever had about the way the world works.

His eyes are still wide though. Dick remembers them being the first thing he clocked about the kid. Blue eyes. Lighter than his, but darker than Bruce’s. More of a grey-blue, compared to the near-teal that Jason’s had been.

Blue eyes. Black hair. Asking about Batman.

The kid’s a walking bad omen. And Dick doesn’t need to be a detective to see the pattern here. If he brings this kid to Bruce and they actually manage to get him out of his funk, then…

“Hey, kid,” he says.

“Tim,” the kid says back to him. He doesn’t look particularly put out by Dick not remembering his name.

“Okay, Tim. Where are your parents?”

Tim blinks at him. “Somewhere in the Gobi Desert. Or, they were there last week, at least.”

Dick is so distracted by the fact that the kid has living parents, and thus no need for a new guardian, that it takes him a moment to register what the kid actually said.

“Wait, if they’re in the Gobi Desert…”

“I’m in boarding school,” Tim volunteers. “We’re on break right now, so I was able to sneak out.”

“And come… here?”

Tim nods.

“Because someone had to tell you that Ba-” he jumps at Dick narrowing his eyes, “that Bruce has been getting worse. He needs help. He needs Robin.”

As if Dick doesn’t know. Then again, maybe his inaction looks like ignorance to this kid who traveled to another state at the drop of a hat to help someone he met once as a toddler. He’s not sure if the kid’s rose-colored glasses are because of his age or because he doesn’t know Bruce personally. Or, more likely, both.

“That doesn’t change anything,” he says. “I can’t be Robin again.”

Tim stares back at him guilelessly. “Why not?”

Now that’s a question.

“You think I’d still fit in those scaly panties?” Dick says, smiling humorlessly and side-stepping anything resembling a real answer.

Tim flushes. “Um… no. I guess not.”

“Exactly.”

“But… someone has to do something.”

“I’m going to do something, but it has nothing to do with being Robin.” Dick says. “I’m going to try to talk him down. Again. If even people outside the community are starting to notice Bruce’s… coping mechanisms, then we’ve got a problem. Hopefully he’ll be able to see that.”

Tim smiles, though just a little.

“Thank you,” he says, as if Dick is doing him a personal favor.

Part of him wants to tell the kid not to get his hopes up. But… he’ll know soon enough. And far be it from Dick to crush what little optimism the kid’s likely to have about the situation.

#jagn answers #jagn writes #dicktim

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