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miekasa · 3 years ago

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mie….could we please get college au eren headcanons👉🏽👈🏽

Of course. I’m always thinking about his big head anyway <33 might as well put it good use.

One thing he learned in college is how to make his hyperfocus/fixation episodes work for him; that’s why he schedules all his classes as close together as possible. He’d rather have class back to back for 5 hours, than have it spread out with hours in between lectures, because that increases his changes of cutting.

You can always tell when he’s in class and/or what class he’s in by how much he responds to your messages. If he doesn’t text back at all, he’s in a class that hard or one he enjoys, or both. But if he’s sending you iMessage games, then you know he’s in his elective that he couldn’t care else about (and is probably cheating in someway somehow lmfao).

He usually puts his phone on dnd when he’s in a class that’s important, but you’re in his favorite contacts, so your messages always ring through. What if it’s an emergency and you need him for something? Advanced Roots of Human Biology can wait.

Some days there are one or two our breaks between his lectures, that’s just how the scheduling works out. When that happens, he usually sneaks into one of your lectures, or goes to your place to take a nap. Your roommates have become accustomed to him, honestly they’ve been considering giving him a key.

Once, he didn’t realize that your lecture was basically a seminar, with you, the prof and maybe six other students. He still stayed lmao, and the prof was so amazed by his dedication, that she didn’t even mind. Occasionally, you’ll catch the two of them talking after lecture. It’s pretty cute the way she’s adopted him into the class even tho he’s not on the roster.

You... have to show him where the library is lmfao. He genuinely has not stepped foot in one until you bring him to one. He likes it tho lmao once he gets used to it.

Speaking of which, do not give him standard directions to find your classes on campus because all you’ll get is, “Babe, I’m gonna keep it real with you, I’ve never heard of the ‘West Quad’ a day in my life. What building are you near.”

He usually comes to see you in the library after all his lectures are done for the day. Sometimes he does homework, sometimes he’s just fucking around on his computer, sometimes he’s just bothering you. When you have to leave to go to class, he stays behind to watch your stuff so you don’t have to pack everything up and come back.

Very protective when it comes to keeping your seat for you. No, you cannot take that chair to your table you good for nothing freshman; it’s reserved for you.

He’ll drag you out of the library if you’ve been cooped up all day, tho. Eren will use his height and his strength against you to get you up. Placates you with kisses when he sees your angry expression, and promises to buy you food.

He takes your backpack for you when you’re walking together,m. His backpack is frustratingly light all the time, even during midterms. You swear all he’s got in there is a pencil and some flashcards.

If you have night classes, he sticks around to walk you home after, especially in the winter when it gets dark faster. If he’s not already on campus, he’ll walk/drive back to meet you; he just doesn’t like you going home alone. Even if your friend/roommate is in the class with you, Eren will walk or drive the both of you home for his own sanity.

He plays sports, so he usually has practice most evenings, but he’ll find a way to make time. If practice was particularly brutal, he’ll probably crash at your place.

He loves it when you come to meet him after practice. His whole face lights up and he waves obnoxiously, before he gathers up his stuff and all but sprints towards you. You get a cold water bottle to the face, or a bit of water splashed on you usually, which he takes immense amusement in.

He knows it’s not possible for you to make it to all of his games, and usually it doesn’t bother him much; you’ve got your own life, and work to worry about. All he asks is that you wear his jersey, or any item of his sports apparel/merch on game day (he’s partial to hoodies).

By the time junior year rolls around, he’s not all that interested in attending parties that aren’t hosted by your friends; so, unless it’s at Connie, Jean, or Reiner and Bertholdt’s place, Eren will usually decline. Even team parties, he’s not crazy about unless it’s to celebrate a championship or something. He’d much rather celebrate with you.

He does get excited about hosting parties though, and he and Jean become pretty damn good co-hosts. They don’t throw ragers, and that’s probably why Eren likes it so much. It’s usually your friend group and a couple plus ones, some good music, games, weed, and take-out.

He’ll buy you coffee whenever you ask for it. The first time, he just orders something plain, not really knowing the difference between anything; but give it two or three tries, and he’ll get it perfect. He becomes so good that he can order you something new/different and you’ll love it.

That’s kind of the start of his own coffee addiction, and more often than not, when he buys you a cup, he’s on his second or third of the day himself. The flavor has really grown on him, okay.

He much prefers your apartment, but on occasion, he’ll ask you to come to his. You’ve been studying for so long, a change of environment should do you good, he claims. He’s a fucking liar tho because that’s all Eren Talk for “I do genuinely want you to come over, but my plans are to coerce you out of doing your assignments and doing me instead.”

Lmfao he adds you on Apple Watch Rings just so you can see him close his rings every day and laugh at you. Even if yours get closed by virtue of walking around campus or working out or whatever, his numbers are stupidly high because he fucking has practice at least 4 days of the week.

Of course when you’re running on a soccer field for 2 hours every day, you close your Move Ring five times, Eren. Leave the rest of us alone.

He buys you guys matching accessories for your keychains. It’s something pretty cute, and slightly random, but it reminded him of you. It also serves as a reminder to himself to take his fucking keys with him when he leaves his house.

He sleeps like a fucking rock, so do not let him fall asleep in the library. Waking him up is a mission, and he’s never happy to be woken up. He looks kinda cute tho.

He schedules dates for you and his friends. Usually by accident, but hear me out. Sometimes he’ll make plans with Armin, then forget that he has class or a test or something; so his solution is to text you, “hey, i forgot min and i were supposed to go some aquarium tomorrow but i have a midterm so here’s the pdf of my ticket, go with him for me, thanks babe love u” then, boop, you and Armin have an aquarium date Friday evening.

The same thing happens with Mikasa, though, she usually catches the scheduling conflict before Eren does, and invites you out herself. You and Mikasa hang out quite a bit anyway, so it comes to the point where she tells you when she’s gonna hang out with Eren, so you can make yourself free for when he inevitably remember he has a game that day.

Mikasa is most amazed that you’ve put up with Eren this long lmao. You’ve certainly lessened her Eren & Armin babysitting hours, and for that she’s eternally grateful. Also, she’s just happy to have another close friend. She loves Eren and Armin, but they’re not the most social beings, and she was literally their only friend besides the other for all their childhood PLEASE she’s so happy you’re around.

It’s Mikasa, however, who babysits you and Eren whenever you both get too drunk. Says you guys are two peas in a pod (affectionate<2)

If you tell Eren something important that happened, like an internship you got, or a good grade in a class, or something, he usually relays that information to his mom pls. He texts her every day, and if she doesn’t ask for an update on you first, he gives her one.

Carla calls you sometimes, too. At least once every few weeks, just to check on you herself. She really likes you for Eren, and is grateful someone is willing to put up with her hotheaded son.

Eren’s always using your fucking chapstick. Always. You know he has his own, so why he needs to use yours is beyond you. Finds time to make some dumbass comment about how it’s an “indirect kiss” every time he uses it too. Like bro, we’re dating, and have had many direct kisses why are you like this.

He posts on Instagram every few weeks or so, but you’re on his story every few days. Usually, it’s just a video of you minding your business and doing your work while Eren slowly zooms in before making some loud noise to surprise you, all so he can get your reaction on video and laugh at it. He’s annoying.

He’s a bit of a copycat when it comes to the products you use. He’ll buy the same brand of pens as you (for that matter, all of his school supplies mirror yours because what does he know about the difference between A4 and A5 notebooks?), put a little hand sanitizer on his backpack like yours (and a lotion, too, for good measure), he even copies your Starbucks order until he finds one he likes for himself. It’s one of his love languages <3

If you’re wondering where your eyelash curler went, Eren stole it to try it on himself, hurt himself, vowed to never use it again, went back because he wanted to “do it right and not give up,” liked the results when he didn’t pinch his eyelid, and now it’s his.

That being said, stop trying to put your Fenty lipgloss on him, it’s never going to happen. Eye makeup, maybe, only if you sit in his lap and he can have his hands on your ass while you do it.

What he does love is letting you do his skincare. He will set aside dedicated skincare nights, he adores it. Easily one of his favorite things ever.

You have his wallet. Not because he’s your sugar daddy or anything (although, if you want something, he’d definitely let you use his card to get it; and even if you bought something without asking, he wouldn’t think twice about it), but because he put it in your bag once and never took it out.

When you tried to give it back, he just shook his head and told you to keep it, “I have my ID in my phone case anyway, and you’re less likely to lose it. Plus I put all my cards on Apple Pay, so I’m good.”

When you do make it to a game of his, he’s all over you when it’s over. Not in a cocky athlete boyfriend kind of way; in a very sleepy boyfriend kind of way. He’s usually got ice on at least one part of his body, and he’s got half his body weight on you as you walk to the car.

By the time you guys get back to your place, he’s practically sleep walking. The only thing on his mind is taking a hot shower to soothe his muscles, and heading to bed. The aftermath of game days aren’t all that bad though, because even if you didn’t show, you’re always there to kiss him when he’s home and massage his shoulders, and cuddle him to sleep; and that’s his favorite part.

#anonymous #hes so fucking cute hes my fucking BOYFRIENDDDDDDDDD #eren x reader #aot x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot imagines #eren fluff #eren smut

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theladyofdeath · 3 years ago

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Life As We Know It {Chapter 12}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby's blogs! >> @snelbz

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

* In case you missed the announcement - we will now be posting chapters 3 days a week! Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. We hope you continue to enjoy the story!

** Trigger warning: Miscarriage.

This chapter is legit a roller coaster, ngl. Enjoy. ;)

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Nesta stood in the living room of Elain’s house with Nyx on her hip, feeling guilty for dropping Nyx off for the night even though Elain was the one to offer.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Gives these little cousins some bonding time.” She reached out and took Nyx’s chubby little hand. “Besides, you and Cassian both need time to recoup.”

She wasn’t about to deny that. It had been a week since her not-date with Balthazar, a week since she and Cassian had uttered more than passing comments on how Nyx had acted throughout the day to each other.

Every time she looked at him, she found him already watching her and the fact got under her skin.

It became an unspoken thing that whenever she cooked dinner, she would make an extra helping and put it in the fridge for him. Not because she felt like she needed to, but because it made her feel better about their awkward arrangement. The longer time went on, the more she realized that as much as she’d been acting like taking care of Nyx together was a death sentence to her social life, he was going through the same thing.

And when she got home, she planned on making dinner for the two of them to share together. A sort of white flag of truce between them.

It was the least she could do. “Call me the second something happens-.”

“We’ll be fine,” Elain said, taking Nyx from Nesta and kissing her sister’s cheek. “Now, go. Relax. Take a bubble bath with some wine or something. Read one of those filthy books you used to hide in your closet.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed.

Elain’s smile widened.

After a tough goodbye, Nesta was heading toward her car and driving back home, making a quick stop at the grocery store just around the corner.

She quickly got all of her fixins, prepared to make one of her favorites - salmon, rice, and green beans. A glance at the calendar that morning told her he would probably be home around five, which gave her just under two hours to make dinner. Easily doable, she’d made three-course meals in less time, for much harsher customers.

Yet she couldn’t figure out why her stomach was in knots.

When Cassian came home, he opened the front door and froze. The quiet in the house unnerved him. Usually, there was some random white noise to fill the house, whether that was the television or one of Nyx’s inane toys that distracted him so well. But as he walked through the house, the TV wasn’t on and he couldn’t hear much of anything.

Until he heard a throat clear from the kitchen.

Instantly, Cassian was on alert, not liking the sound at all, recognizing who it had belonged to, but silently, he made his way into the kitchen.

Nesta was sitting at the table, a plate of food in front of her, with an identical one at the spot he typically sat in.

“What’s…going on?” He asked, slowly taking another few steps into the kitchen.

Nesta stood and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, before taking it back over to where he hovered between the table and the doorway. She held the cold bottle out to him. “This is a truce.”

“A tru-?” He took it, but shook his head, not quite understanding her. “Where’s Nyx?”

“He is having a sleepover with Seph, Elain and Azriel. Elain wanted us to have a night off,” she said, sitting back down at her seat. “So I made us dinner.”

“You made us dinner?” he repeated, staring at the plates. “For the two of us to have? Together? At the same table?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, unless you don’t want it.”

Cassian cleared his throat as he pulled the chair out across from her and popped open his beer. “I won’t turn down free food. Especially when it’s made by an expert.”

Nesta said nothing more as she cut into her salmon. “An expert?”

“You get paid for cooking,” Cassian said, picking up his fork and collecting a pile of green beans. “That makes you an expert. A professional.”

“This is a lot of compliments,” she said, watching him carefully as he ate.

“Maybe I’m jumping on board with this whole truce thing,” he said, mouth full of food.

Nesta wanted to chastise him about his manners, but bit her tongue. “You weren’t on board with it to begin with?”

He chewed slowly and then set his fork down. “Neither of us have…handled this very well,” he admitted, taking a drink from his beer. “And I’m willing to take a portion of the blame, but not all of it.”

Nesta weighed his words carefully. They were blunt, but not untrue. Sure, he’d acted like an ass many times, but she had only responded in kind. She knew she could be a bitch, and she knew she did it well. Sometimes too well.

“For this to be an official truce,” she began, holding her wine glass in her hand, swirling it once, twice, “there has to be terms we both agree on.” His eyebrows raised, but she pressed on before he could speak. “Mine are that we have to communicate. When you get frustrated or pissed at me, you can’t just bottle everything up until it all explodes. And when I get overwhelmed, I promise not to snap at you or act like such a…”

“A bitch?” He provided, when she stumbled over her words, smiling around the beer bottle pressed to his lips.

She wasn’t able to stop the smile growing on her own face, as she said, “Thank you, asshole. But yes. Those are my terms.”

He took a drink and nodded. “Okay. I think I can handle those.”

“And what are your terms?” She asked, cutting into the flaky fish for another bite.

He was quiet for a moment, debating. Nesta took a sip from her wine glass while she waited, watching as thought after thought passed across his face.

“I want to get to know you,” he said, finally. “I want to know who you are and I want you to know me.”

Nesta cocked her head to the side. It was a simple request, but Nesta wasn’t exactly good at allowing people to get to know rher. “And how do you suppose we do that?”

“A simple conversation will do,” he said, shrugging. “Over salmon and alcohol. Mostly alcohol.” He reached across the small table and picked up her wine bottle, filling up her wine glass to the brim.

“Getting me drunk so that I open up?” Nesta asked, sipping from that wine glass.

Cassian chuckled. “I would never.”

She watched her for a second, before taking another larger drink and setting it down. “Fine. Then it’s a truce.” He smirked, glancing over the table between them and then leaned over to look on the counter. “What?”

“I’m just looking for an official notice.” His smirk grew into an all out grin. “Something to sign. I figured you’d called up Tarquin and had some official documents written up.”

“You think you’re so funny.” She rolled her eyes and he chuckled, reaching an open hand across the table.

“Truce,” he said, taking her hand in his. They shook once, and Cassian was struck by how much smaller her hand was than his, yet by how firm her grip was. It was an impressive, professional handshake.

“So what do you want to know?” She asked, scooping some rice onto her fork and getting a bite of fish to go along with it.

His eyes narrowed as he thought about it and she began to wonder whether they should have laid down some boundaries. But he asked, “You went to the University of Velaris, right? What did you study there?”

Nesta blinked in surprise, not having expected the question. “Business and marketing.”

Chewing slowly, Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Nothing culinary?”

She shook her head. “No, I liked cooking, but I never thought it would become my career. I majored in business and marketing, with a minor in communications.”

“That sounds…” He fought for the words for a second. “Boring.”

Taking a drink of her wine, Nesta chuckled. “Oh, it was,” she admitted. “The longest four years of my life, but I’ve got the pretty, little diploma with my name written on it to show for them.”

“And how did you learn about food? How to cook?”

She shrugged. “I taught myself. I graduated college and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I got a data entry job at a marketing firm and spent my free time in the kitchen, trying and testing and tasting.” She paused, and her eyes fell to her plate. “Before my dad died, he listened to my idea about starting a small restaurant, with a few of my favorite recipes on the menu. He left me the money to do it in his will.”

“And now?” he pressed, although his voice held a certain gentleness. “Are you successful and thriving?”

Nesta snorted. “I make enough to live and pay the few of servers I have. If that’s successful, then I suppose.”

Cassian nodded in appreciation. “I’d say it is. What about the future? Bigger restaurant? Multiple restaurants?”

“Someday,” Nesta said, with a longing in her voice. “And what about you? And your guitars? Surely you don’t want to be a bartender forever.”

Cassian shrugged. “I don’t mind the bartending. Good tips and I meet a lot of interesting people.”

“But?” Nesta asked.

“But,” Cassian repeated, huffing a laugh. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t exactly say that managing a bar is my passion.”

“So, guitars then?” Nesta asked, brow raised. “You’re really talented. Your guitars are beautiful.”

Cassian’s eyes shot to hers, wide as he slowly set down his fork. “Holy shit, did you just compliment me?”

Nesta’s lips pursed as she kicked his shin under the table.

“I’ve always been good with my hands. Not like that,” he said, pointing at her when he saw the smirk growing. “I mean, creating things, playing instruments, even something as mundane as making drinks. If it’s something I can do with my hands, I typically love it and nine times out of ten, I’m good at it.” There was none of the cockiness she’d come to know in his voice. Just pure explanation, and a bit of devotion. “I’ve tried my hand at making furniture and little knickknacks, but there’s nothing that compares to building an instrument from scratch.”

“And you do it all? Yourself?” She asked, taking another bite.

He nodded. “I start with a few rough pieces of wood. Sand it, stain it, and boom, brand new guitar.”

Snorting, she lifted her wine glass to her lips. “I think you may have missed a few steps in there.”

“Well, I didn’t want to bore you,” he chuckled.

“How long have you been playing guitar?” Nesta asked, finishing off the last of her food.

Cassian took a minute to think about it, then shrugged, finishing off his beer. “As long as I can remember. I grew up with my mom in Illyria. They live simply up there. Music is…a way of life. It grew on me quickly. Mom bought me my first guitar that a friend of hers had made before I could even walk.”

Nesta chuckled, quietly. “Just like you did for Nyx.”

Cassian nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Another drink?” he asked, nodding toward her emptied glass.

“Sure,” she said. “But, wine is gone. I think there’s some tequila in the cabinet.”

Cassian lifted a brow as he rose. “Tequila?”

Nesta grinned as he went to the cabinet. “Make me a drink, bartender?”

Cassian laughed as he grabbed the glass bottle from the cabinet. “I can. What’ll it be? Tequila sunrise? Margarita? Pretty sure we have some lime juice, somewhere.”

“I’m not picky,” Nesta promised.

She heard him laugh. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing that, Archeron.”

“Only where it counts,” she replied, smiling at him. She picked up their empty plates and rinsed them off, loading them into the dishwasher. Turning, she found him setting a shot glass with salt on the rim down on the counter. She chuckled. “That’s not what I asked for.”

“First of all, you technically didn’t ask for anything in particular,” he said, pointing at her as he crossed the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Secondly, this is the most classic drink I can make you with tequila. It’s the oldest recipe in the books.”

She outright laughed. “That’s cause it’s just straight tequila.”

“Exactly,” he grinned and damn it, if her heart didn’t skip a beat. “I lied, no lime juice.”

“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “But if I’m doing sloppy shots, you’re joining me.”

“Oh, I never say no to shots,” he said, grabbing another from the cabinet.

He filled them up, and slid one to Nesta, who took the glass in her hand and held it up.

Cassian clinked his against hers, and they tossed them back.

Nesta’s face didn’t change a bit, and Cassian met her steady eyes. “Impressive.”

“Not my first tequila shot, Nazari,” she said, hopping up to sit on the counter. “What else do you want to ask me?”

He leaned down on the countertop, letting his arms lay flat. “Hmm.” He let his fingers drum quietly. “What did you want to be when you grew up? Or was it always a chef?”

She scrunched up her nose. “I was convinced I was going to be a doctor, I wanted to help people. But then I found out how many years of school was required to be a doctor. So I decided I wanted to be a nurse.”

Cassian carefully poured a couple more shots. “And what happened to that dream?”

“I found out that the sight of blood makes me queasy. Sometimes I throw up, sometimes I pass out.”

He laughed. “That seems like enough to throw off a career plan.”

“Yep,” she admitted, picking her wine glass up.

Cassian filled up the shot glasses, once more, and slid hers back to her. She set down her wine glass and snorted as she tossed it back.

“You know what we should do?” Nesta asked, and Cassian lifted a brow in question. “Go for a swim. We’ve been here over a month and have yet to use the pool that I’ve been cleaning, daily.”

Cassian took his shot before watching her, closely. “Last one in has to share their deepest, darkest secret.”

Nesta scoffed. “What are we, children?”

Cassian grinned as he pushed himself back from the counter. “Scared of a little competition? Afraid to lose?”

They stared at each other in silence for a minute before Nesta jumped off the counter, and ran up the stairs to throw on her swimsuit.

Cassian and his heavy footsteps were close behind.

It took her a few minutes to remember where her swimsuits had been packed, and from the slamming of drawers down the hall, it seemed Cassian was in a similar predicament. She finally found a two piece stuffed in the back of her underwear drawer, not exactly what she had been looking for, and hesitated before stripping down and pulling the bottoms on. Nesta was out her bedroom door before she even had the top fully tied, pulling it into a hastily tied bow behind her back. Her feet carried her as she flew down the stairs, but she froze when she opened the sliding glass door and found him already in the water.

He grinned from where he had his muscular arms resting on the side of the pool, and his hair was soaked, pushed back off of his face. With the wide smile on his face, he looked so much younger, almost boyish.

With a sigh, Nesta turned and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing a couple beers in each hand and made her way back onto the lit up patio.

“I win,” he said, smirking up at her.

The tongue she stuck out at him wasn’t her most quick witted response, but she was trying not to let her eyes drift beneath the water. When she suggested the pool, she hadn’t been thinking of how much skin would be on display, for either of them.

“That’s because you only had one piece to put on,” Nesta said, sitting near him by the edge and handing him a drink.

“Hey, if you only wanted to put on one of those pieces, I wouldn’t have stopped you,” he protested, and Nesta had to hide the way his suggestive tone, those words, made her blush.

He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he popped open his beer and took a long, slow drink.

“So how about that secret?” He asked, voice lowering.

“Hmmm,” she crooned, tapping her chin. “Which to share when I have so many to choose from?”

Cassian chuckled. “You would have an endless string of secrets. Come on, what skeletons are in your closet? Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

Nesta had a lot of those, too. She wasn’t exactly the “open” type.

There was one true secret she kept though. One that no one else had known, not even Feyre or Elain. Just her and…

She hesitated and he looked up at her, caught the look on her face. “What?”

Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t want to kill the mood.”

The hand holding the bottle was right next to her thigh, and he let his pinky skim over her skin. “That kind of secret, huh?”

She gnawed into her lip, nodding.

“I’ll tell you mine, if it helps,” Cassian said, looking up into her face.

She slipped into the pool, thankful the water was warm, and shook her head. “That wasn’t our agreement.”

He stayed quiet, letting her process her own thoughts.

Sinking beneath the water, Nesta re-emerged, slicking her hair back. After a steadying breath, she said, “I’m sure you remember Tomas, my ex who interrupted our date?”

The mention of their date surprised Cassian, after so many weeks of them dancing around it. He nodded.

“We were together for a long time, you know? All through college.” She wasn’t looking at him, wouldn’t meet his eye. “I got pregnant just after our senior year. I had never wanted kids, you know? Wasn't the family type, at all. Never saw myself having a family. Anyway,” she continued, shaking her head. “It didn’t matter. I miscarried.”

Cassian continued to look at her, continued to watch as she stared blankly ahead.

“I got excited about it, too, which is ridiculous,” she went on. “For a moment, for those few weeks that I thought Tomas and I would be starting a family… I actually got excited.”

“How far along were you?” He asked, gently.

She answered immediately, with no hesitation. “Thirteen weeks. It was like one day I was pregnant, carrying our child and the next… The baby was gone.” She was quiet for a moment. “I woke up one morning and there was blood, so much blood. Tom was already at work, so I drove myself to the hospital, but there was nothing they could do.”

Cassian recognized the slow blinking, knew she was reliving those slow, sad moments again.

“I was dying inside, trying to come to terms with the fact that our baby was gone, and Tomas got home and-.” She took a deep breath and looked over at him. “He asked what I was making for dinner. He didn’t even acknowledge that our child was gone and… l guess that’s when I decided to do the same. To pretend nothing happened. We didn’t really talk much about it. We never told our families, I never told Feyre or Elain. Our father died about a month later and it all seemed so insignificant at that point. But Tom and I never recovered, our relationship at least. We broke up a few months later and…” Nesta shrugged. “Life kept going. I decided to open my restaurant and never looked back.”

“I’m sorry,” Cassian said, quietly.

She finally looked at him and shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it any less painful of a memory,” he countered.

She just nodded. “It’s how it was supposed to be though, right? Wasn't meant to be.”

Cassian took another drink as he nodded, slowly.

“Anyway,” she began, clearing her throat before dunking herself back down under the water.

“Would you like my secret?” He asked, when she turned and rested her arms on the edge of the pool.

She shrugged. “If you feel so inclined. You didn’t lose the bet.”

He leaned back, letting his arms drape across the edge of the pool as well. “When I was eighteen, I broke my back. I decided to take a year off before I started school, and was working construction over the summer to save money. I wanted to travel for a while. But then I took a bad fall off a roof. I spent two weeks in the hospital and then was stuck in my bed for another ten. And Rhys and Az stayed by my side the whole time. They put off their last hoorah vacations before they went off to college to stay with me.”

Nesta’s eyes drifted to Cassian, drops falling from her lashes. “Doesn’t seem like a secret if people know about it.”

“You didn’t know,” he shot back.

Nesta smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Fair. That sounds awful.”

“It was,” he agreed. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I don’t like to stay still for very long.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Nesta said, a little spark returning to her eye. “It was torture,” he followed, finishing off his drink. “Not being able to move. I played so many damn board games that I never want to look at one ever again.”

“Even if Nyx asks?” Nesta inquired.

Cassian gave her a lopsided grin. “Well, he’s the exception.” Nesta laughed, and Cassian shook his head. “I’d do anything for that kid. I think Rhys knew that, when he named me godfather.”

She understood that, related to it completely. Especially considering they had been named godparents together, regardless of their mutual distaste for the other. Their love for Nyx, for Rhys and Feyre, had been evident to everyone.

“I miss him,” she admitted, resting her cheek on the concrete. “I know it’s only one night, and I’m beyond appreciative, but… It’s weird not having him right inside.”

He nodded. “I get it. I do, too. I know Az and Elain can take care of him, and I’m sure he had a blast with Seph before they went to bed, but it hasn’t stopped me worrying about him.”

Nesta nodded, stretching her back. She took a drink from her beer. “Did you ever want kids of your own?”

He blew out a harsh breath and drained his own bottle before answering. “I never really considered it much, when I was younger. After my back healed, I was so focused on getting back to life that relationships and dating weren’t high on my priority list-.”

“But fucking was?” Nesta asked, smirking.

He rolled his eyes, nudging her slightly with a shoulder. “Maybe I was interested in sex more than relationships, I’ll admit. But before I knew it, my early twenties had come and gone. Everyone I knew was getting married and had babies on the way and… I was still the one living the bachelor life and decided to just run with it.”

“I get that,” Nesta agreed. “After…everything that happened with Tomas, I never wanted that again. My date with you and my date with Balthazar are the only two proper dates I’ve been on since college.”

Cassian lifted a brow. “And have you been on any improper dates?”

Nesta didn’t answer. Instead, her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink as she finished off her beer.

Cassian’s grin widened. “I never knew you were such a freak, Archeron.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she muttered, which just made him laugh harder.

“I must admit, it’s nice to hear you talking about our infamous date so often tonight,” Cassian said, pulling himself out of the pool.

Nesta couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles flexed, how the drops of water streamed down his back, between his shoulders, down to his waistline and the swim trunks, which rode low on his hips. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t say anything nice about that date, did I?”

“Absolutely not, but is there really anything nice to say?” he asked, sliding the screen door open. “I mean, you were an absolute nightmare.”

She gawked after him as he went inside, and once he came back with a small pyramid of beer cans, Nesta said, “I was a nightmare? You were a complete disaster!”

He scoffed, setting the cans down and cannon balling back into the pool. Even though she was already in the water, Nesta couldn’t help the squeal that left her. Cassian was grinning when he came up for air. “I forgot my wallet. I fully intended to pay you back, both monetarily and with the best sex you’d ever had in your life, but you decided to get huffy, stomp back to your front door and slam it in my face.”

“Oh, please,” Nesta said, reaching for a can and popping it’s top. Foam erupted from the opening and she put her mouth to it before it could drip into the pool. “You were over twenty minutes late, you wore work boots and a leather jacket to the nicest restaurant in Velaris, and we ran into your fuck buddy.” She drank deeply from the can, emptying it in one go. “As for the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, I’ve become very accustomed to and am just fine with my own hand, so you’re going to have to try pretty hard to do better than I myself can.”

She wiggled her fingers in his face and before she could register what was happening, his hand was wrapped around her own. As if he didn’t already know that. Cassian had caught her getting herself off in the bathtub, a memory that was seared into both of their heads. He tugged her closer and the empty can fell from her hands, floating on top of the water.

“I was talking about the past, sweetheart, but you seem to be talking about the present,” he breathed as her chest brushed against his own. “Who says my offer still stands all these years later?”

“You’d be a fool not to make that offer,” she breathed, and she knew the scent of beer was all he was breathing in.

“And would you accept it if I were?” he asked, one hand still wrapped around hers, the other snaking its way around her waist. “Still offering?”

Nesta’s breath hitched as their mouths grew so close, too close, close enough to reach out and taste his lips with a brush of her tongue.

It was tempting.

It would be stupid. Alcohol fogging her brain or not, Nesta knew it would be stupid.

But it was tempting, and in that moment, there were very few things Nesta could think about other than his hands against her skin, his lips a breadth width away from her own, and his cock she could very prominently feel twitching against her thigh.

Nesta’s lips brushed softly against his as she said, “Try and find out.”

#nessian #snacmc #snacmc lawki #modern au #lawki #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #acotar #acosf

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jerzwriter · 3 years ago

Text

When the Bough Breaks - Part 1

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Casey MacTavish)

Series: Part 1 of (3?)

Rating: Teen +

Summary: Casey traded one dream for another when she accepted Ethan’s proposal. Even within their magical life, there were still times she mourned the loss of the child she’d never have. When Ethan learns he unknowingly fathered a child with a former lover, how will she cope? Will their marriage survive?

Category: Angst

Warnings: Decisions to have children, long-lost children, marital problems

A/N: I honestly don’t know why I decided to do this to myself… Several writers I follow received an anon ask for this story and my heart immediately ached for anyone who would attempt to write this; but, after contemplating it more than I care to admit, I accepted my masochistic tendencies and took out my laptop. It was too good a challenge to pass up. I’d like to thank the incredible @bex-la-get. I first saw this on her blog and I asked if she’d mind if I took a stab at it. She could not have been more gracious and encouraging. I know you already know what a blessing she is to the fandom, but I just extend my praise.

A/N 2: I want to thank my fellow FF addict, friend, and is now official long-lost sister (sticking with the theme!) @kachrisberry. Thank you for encouraging me, pre-reading, and being my cheerleader.

A/N 3: I’ve never been more stressed about posting a FF (to my DTI readers, yes, even more than Chapter 13😊). The idea is just… oofff. I hope my love for the characters shines through and I hope I do this story just a little justice. I can't wait to read Bex's and the other writer's versions. I am merely a princess in the presence of the queens and I am salivating to see what they produce.

CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS

Link to original ask: https://bex-la-get.tumblr.com/post/658265281308852224/are-you-willing-to-write-this-i-want-to-read-it

“Dr. Carrick, please report to the ER. Dr. Carrick, report to the ER.”

Ethan chuckled as he clutched his wife’s hand a bit tighter.

“Wow, they have their very own Dr. Carrick. I wonder how he compares to ours.”

Casey turned to him and smiled wanly.

“I’m sure ours is a much more colorful creature. There can’t possibly be two of them.”

She turned her head back to the banal painting that had been her focal point for the past half-hour. She attempted to reconcile how they ended up here. The idea of being in a hospital 150 miles away from home, waiting on test results that would forever change the course of their lives, would have seemed inconceivable just a week before.

Ethan brushed his fingers against her chin, turning her face toward his.

“Baby, don’t worry, no matter what, we will be OK.”

She swallowed and attempted to smile.

“I know,” she said.

Yet, if she truly meant that, her lip wouldn’t be quivering, she would not be biting her cheek in an attempt to hold back her tears, and her heart would not be ripping in two.

Two months earlier

It was a perfect April morning, crisp, sunny, without a single cloud in the sky. Ethan smiled as he gazed out the window. The day was nearly identical to the one three years before. That day was undoubtedly the happiest of Ethan Ramsey’s life, and he liked to believe it was for Casey Ramsey as well. Although she had assured him of it countless times, he still found it difficult to believe. In his opinion, being married to him could not begin to compare to the joy it brought to be able to call Casey his bride. Each year he did his best to make the day special. Two years ago, they were tucked away in a villa on a secluded beach in Hawaii; last year, it was in an adorable B&B on Martha’s Vineyard. Unfortunately, their schedules would not accommodate them taking off more than one day together now, and Ethan was none too happy about it. As was often the case, his wife had to talk some sense into him.

“Ethan, the only thing that matters is that we will be together. That’s all we need to make any day spectacular.”

He knew she was right, but that was not going to stop him from doing all he could to make this a memorable day.

Casey was still sound asleep when Ethan quietly entered their bedroom. He placed a breakfast tray on a table next to a vase of lavender roses that he arranged earlier. They were the same flowers that carried in her bouquet as she walked down the aisle to him. Despite their rarity, Ethan promised to present them to her on every anniversary thereafter.

He knelt beside his wife and began peppering her face with kisses.

“Happy Anniversary, Casey.”

She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Happy Anniversary, Ethan. What’s all this?”

“It’s me making sure you have the best day possible. It’s not every woman who could tolerate being married to me. In fact, I am firmly convinced you’re the only one who ever could. So, it continues to be my mission to spoil you rotten as a thank you for putting up with me.”

Throwing her arms around his neck, she gave him a lingering kiss.

“Married three years, and you still don’t get that being your wife is the best thing that has ever happened to me, Dr. Ramsey. So, while I appreciate the spoiling, it’s completely unnecessary. I couldn’t be happier just knowing you’re mine.”

“Do you mind if your breakfast gets cold?”

“Well, why?”

“Because now that I think of it, there is something else I would rather do first.” A sly grin spread across his face as he pushed his wife back into the bed, laying on top of her as she giggled.

“There’s always the microwave.”

He momentarily lifted his head in disgust, “The microwave? Have I taught you nothing?”

“You’ve taught me plenty,” she said pulling him back on top of her, “now, let’s practice some of those things.”

Though their relationship had been a tumultuous journey, they had settled into idyllic wedded bliss. It took three years to overcome his insecurities and admit just how much he loved Casey, but once he did, he could not wait to make her his wife. They were married in a beautiful beach ceremony just 3-months later. When people asked why the rush, Ethan said they were making up for lost time.

They couldn’t be happier. However, for Casey, this beautiful life did come at a price. From the beginning she knew Ethan did not see children as part of his future, but then again, neither was a committed relationship or marriage. A part of her hoped that his personal evolution would continue. Perhaps he would open the door to the possibility of fatherhood, but he did not.

When he asked Casey to marry him, she insisted that they resolve this issue first. It was a difficult time. Ethan was petrified. After finally overcoming his fears and admitting he wanted a life with the woman he adored by his side, he faced the real possibility of losing her. This was one issue where compromise was not possible, and, as much as it pained him, he couldn’t even blame her if she decided to leave him behind. Asking her to give up her dream of becoming a mother was not a small request. He found it impossible to assuage his guilt as he watched her struggle to make a decision. There were many days when he considered giving in, but he could not. There was no way he could bring a new life into this world knowing in his heart he would never be able to provide what it would need. Not after the childhood he endured and the lasting damage that ensued. The only thing he could do is wait for Casey to come to a conclusion. His entire world was on pause.

When Casey broached the subject, she was optimistic even though, deep down, she already knew his answer. She didn’t even want a big family, she explained; just one child would be plenty. She pointed out all of Ethan’s virtues that would lend to being a wonderful father. She knew in her heart that they would be able to give their child everything it needed and more together. Several tear-filled conversations later, he was adamant, he loved her, but this was the one place he could not give in. She told him that she needed some time. Two weeks, she said, she would give him an answer at the end of two weeks.

It was excruciating. Neither knew if their love story would continue with them solidifying their commitment to one another. Or, if it would end, adding their names to a list of tragic lovers who were destined to live their lives apart. The prospect of losing each other was more than either could bear, but there was no other solution to this dilemma. One of them would have to make a sacrifice, and Ethan already made it clear, it wouldn’t be him. So the choice rested on Casey's shoulders.

In the end, she didn’t need two weeks. Six days later, while out for her morning jog, the answer came to her as clear as day. She changed direction and ran to Ethan’s doorstep.

“I want you.” She declared. "Ethan. I want a life with you more than anything else in this world. When it comes down to it, I can imagine living a happy life without having a child, but I cannot imagine one without you by my side. So, yes, Ethan, yes, I will marry you.”

He was simply overjoyed but still fearful. What if she changed her mind? What if she grew to resent him and it tore them apart? He insisted on attending pre-marital counseling before they set a wedding date. Casey laughed; they couldn’t do anything simply, could they? After only a few sessions, they realized Casey would never be happy about not being a mother. Still, she had accepted her decision and did not resent Ethan for it. Life was full of choices, and people never get everything they want, but she knew where she belonged, and it was with him. Ethan could not believe that anyone could love him that much.

They went on to be the couple everyone else aspired to be. Their faces brightened whenever the other entered a room. They couldn’t wait to see each other at the end of the day – even though they worked together. They found their other halves and Casey never regretted her choice. But it was impossible to ignore the sadness in her eyes each time a friend or colleague announced that they were expecting. She would smile and celebrate, genuinely happy for them, but anyone who knew her could see through the facade. As time went on, she passed on invitations to all but her closest friend's baby showers. Ethan knew she had no commitments on those days, but never asked why she wasn't attending, he already knew.

Shortly after their first anniversary, Casey’s cousin Peter asked them to be godparents to his daughter, Jenna. They both delighted in the role. They made frequent trips to her cousin’s home and spoiled her as much as her parents would allow (well, maybe even a little more). Ethan simply adored spending time with Jenna. Casey watched as Ethan would hold her while she napped, or play with her on the floor, and she allowed her hopes to rise once more. But it was for naught. He loved Jenna, Ethan explained, he loved children; he simply did not want any of his own.

Casey never discussed it again after that day, but Ethan was not unaware of her sorrow, and, at times, his guilt was overwhelming. He was living in a twisted paradox. He loved Casey more than life itself and wanted to give her the world, but he knew he was denying her one of her greatest dreams, causing her ongoing pain. Before they were married, he worried that she would eventually resent him causing their marriage to erode. Now, he understood that his untamed guilt could have the same effect.

Unbeknownst to Casey, he began seeing a therapist to better understand his reluctance to becoming a father. He wanted to determine, once and for all, if it was something he could open his heart and mind to. He did not tell Casey. He had to know first. Allowing her to have hope and then crushing it again would be cruel. In time, he began to see a change in himself. The idea was no longer as daunting; he started to see it as something he could embrace. Occasionally he daydreamed of how he would share the news with Casey. He had settled on wrapping a onesie up and presenting it to her after a quiet dinner at home. He wondered if it would be too cheesy to have “Would you be my mom?” written on it. A baby proposal, if you will. He was almost there. He could practically feel it, but he needed to be one-hundred percent certain.

Two months later

Casey spent her day off shopping for Jenna. Her second birthday was next week and they would be traveling to Pennsylvania to help her celebrate.

When returned to their townhome, Casey cleared the dining room table and began wrapping the abundant number of gifts she purchased. She laughed because she knew Ethan would see the plethora of presents and say, ‘Are you sure we got enough?’ These were the moments when Casey felt the yearning inside her and the pain that inevitably followed. It was especially difficult because she felt so alone. She never shared this with Ethan. She made her choice and gave her word; it would be unfair to burden him with a decision she made. But the issue felt too intimate for her to share with others, so she bore this pain herself. Still, when she looked at the mantle and saw all the beautiful photos of the life she and Ethan shared, she knew she made the right choice. It just hurt sometimes.

Ethan left his lunchtime appointment and returned to work. Today would be his last day of therapy. He conquered the fears that were holding him back. Not only was he confident that he could be a good father, but the idea of having a child with Casey was exhilarating. He could not wait to tell her and considered running home immediately to share the news. But this was too big, too important, and he wanted to make it memorable. He decided to tell her the following week, before Jenna's birthday party. He would slip his present in with Jenna's and give it to Casey before leaving their hotel. As he walked the halls of Edenbrook, he could not wipe the grin off of his face, causing consternation among all who came into contact with him.

The doorbell rang, startling Casey. She had not expected any visitors or deliveries today. A stunning woman, roughly her age, stood before her when she opened the door. With her immaculate chestnut brown hair, crystal blue eyes, and a kind but elegant face, she looked like an old Hollywood starlet come to life. But her furrowed brow and the constant wringing of her hands made it clear she was troubled.

“Hi, Can I help you?”

“Uhm, yes, ah, I’m looking for Ethan Ramsey. Is this the correct address?”

“Yes, but I’m afraid he is not home. I’m his wife, is there anything that I can help you with?”

The woman’s complexion turned ashen.

“Oh, I didn’t realize there was a Mrs. Ramsey, uh, I’m sorry.”

Casey’s blood went cold.

“Well, there is, and it’s me,” she said with a nervous smile. “May I ask who you are and why you need to speak with my husband?”

“Uhm, my name is Amanda, Amanda Pierce. I’m an old friend of Ethan’s, and I just wanted to… I need to talk to him. Could I possibly leave my number with you? Or maybe you could give me his... if that’s OK.”

“I’ll get a piece of paper and take yours. Can you wait here a moment?”

“Sure.”

Casey felt her heart racing. Something wasn’t right. She knew Ethan wouldn’t be unfaithful to her, but she couldn’t stop her mind from going there. Pushing the thought aside, she retrieved a receipt on the kitchen counter and a pen before rushing back to her front door.

“Here,” Casey said, “write your information, and I’ll get it to him today.”

Amanda's hand was shaking, so much so that Casey took the pen back to write the number herself.

“I’m truly sorry to bother you. You really seem like a really lovely woman,” Amanda said, almost apologetically.

“Well, thank you. I will be sure to give this to Ethan right away.”

____________________

Casey could have waited until Ethan returned home that evening. She could have called him or sent him a text. But something inside her felt that this needed to be handled in person and quickly. She grabbed her keys and headed to the hospital. She didn’t quite run, but she was undoubtedly walking at a brisker pace than she did on her regular walk to work.

Ethan’s face beamed when she walked into his office, “Hey, you’re off today. I didn’t expect to see you!”

She closed the door, locking it behind her. Ethan took one look at her and realized this visit was not for pleasure.

“Casey, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. But a woman stopped by the house, and she said she needed to talk to you and implied that it was important. She gave me her number.”

Casey handed him the receipt.

“Her name is Amanda, Amanda Pierce. She said she’s an old friend.”

Ethan’s eyes went wide.

“A, Amanda?”

“Yes. Is she an old friend?”

“She’s an old girlfriend or as much of a girlfriend as I ever had. We had a brief relationship shortly before I met you.”

Casey swallowed, “Was it serious?”

“No.” Ethan answered emphatically, “It was my standard MO. We dated for two or three months, then she wanted something more, I didn’t, and we went our separate ways. I haven’t seen nor heard from her since.”

“Why do you think she’s here now?”

“I have no idea, but I’d like to get to the bottom of it.”

He picked up his phone and motioned for Casey to take a seat. He dialed the number, placing the call on speaker.

“Hello.”

“Hello, is this Amanda?”

“Yes. Is this Ethan?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Oh, I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

“Well, you did. Can I ask why you wish to speak to me?”

“Of course. But not over the phone. Are you available anytime soon?”

“I’m available right now. Where can we meet?”

“Oh, well, I’m still in Back Bay.”

“There is a coffee house, The Thinking Cup, on Newbury St. Can you be there in 30-minutes?”

“Yes, I’ll see you there.”

Ethan looked up at Casey, “I don’t like waiting on these things. Mysteries do nothing for me.”

“I don’t disagree.”

Casey looked like she saw a ghost and Ethan could see her trepidation. He leaned over the desk and took her hand.

“Casey, I don’t know what this is about, but I hope you know that you have nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, I don’t think… I’m not under the assumption you want to have an affair or anything, but exes don’t typically pop out of the woodwork for a good reason. So, yes, I’m nervous.”

“Would you like to come with me? You are more than welcome. There is nothing she, or anyone else, can say in front of me that they cannot say in front of you.”

Casey thought about it, but something inside of her told her not to go. She trusted Ethan implicitly, so he could handle this.

“I think you should go alone. I will be at home, but please come there as soon as you’re done.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll ask Harper to pick up my cases for the day and I’ll be home as soon as I’m through.”

He walked around his desk and kissed her forehead.

“Don’t worry, Case. Everything will be OK.”

____________________

Casey made herself a cup of chamomile tea. She attempted watching TV. She took out a book she had been hoping to catch up on. She went on her phone and scrolled through social media posts. Nothing kept her attention; nothing kept her mind off Ethan and what he and Amanda could be discussing right now. She began pacing the living room, and shortly after that, she heard the front door open.

Ethan entered from the foyer; he was as pale as a ghost. Casey had been trying her best to stay calm, but the moment she saw him, her heart sank.

“What? What is it, Ethan? Tell me.”

He appeared to be in shock as he walked toward her. His movements were methodical, his words bordered on robotic.

“Casey, I… I think you should sit down for this.”

She could identify the very moment when her heart and head began to pound so hard, she could hear them. Her stomach churned as adrenaline pumped through her body. She tried to steady her breathing. Hysteria was not going to help here.

“No. I’m fine where I am. Please, tell me, Ethan. Tell me now.”

Ethan exhaled a shaky breath before collapsing in a wing chair across from her. He leaned forward, forehead in his hands. He rubbed his temples before pulling his hands through his hair, grasping it for several moments before finally letting go.

Casey felt hot tears welling in her eyes. She had asked him to tell her now, immediately, and he was stalling. She considered demanding his reply, but she felt like her entire life was about to change, and not for the better. So, part of her appreciated the delay; perhaps he was affording her the final few moments of her life as it once was. But the reprieve could not last forever and, eventually, his voice broke the silence.

“As I told you before, Amanda and I were involved before you came to Edenbrook. We, we were only together a short time and….”

“Yes, Ethan, please get to the point.”

“Well, uhm, today… Amanda told me that….”

He lowered his face into his hands and shook his head vigorously. There was no easy way to say it; he just had to do it. He stood up and looked directly at Casey.

“She told me that we have a son.”

Casey felt like the wind knocked out of her. She stumbled backward as one hand grasped her chest, and the other covered her gaping mouth.

“What?” she said with a meek voice, her quivering lip matching the rhythm of her shaking body.

“She said she found out she was pregnant shortly after we split. She knew I didn’t want a relationship at all, never mind one with her, and she knew I never wanted a child. So, she felt it was better that I didn’t know.”

Casey turned away from him. Her body had gone numb. She could hear Ethan speak, but his words were not reaching her mind.

“She moved back to Connecticut to be near her family. She never told anyone who… who the father was. But... he's been having some issues and ... anyway, that's why she decided to tell me now."

The room fell silent; the only sound was Casey’s ragged breath. It seemed to last for an eternity.

“Casey, say something.”

She slowly turned around. Shock and anguish distorted her beautiful face.

“I… I suppose you believe it is true.”

“The timeline plays out. He is 6 years old. She said she’d arrange for a paternity test to be done. She offered it before I even asked. She insists that I was the only person she had been with during that time.”

“Did she happen to show you a picture of him?”

“Yes.”

“And?” Casey asked, her voice a guttural cry.

“And the resemblance to me at his age is… it is remarkable.”

Casey’s body had been tense, pin-straight in anticipation, but with these words, it went limp. Her head fell into her hand as her tears broke free. She felt her knees buckling as she collapsed onto the sofa.

“I can’t believe this,” she sobbed.

Ethan ran to her side and wrapped his arm around her.

“Casey, I... I didn’t… I don’t… I’m ….”

“You didn’t know … so don’t… you couldn’t tell me if you didn’t know.”

“I know, but… I’m... I’m sorry, Casey. I’m still in shock ….”

“Of course, of course,” she spoke without emotion, looking straight ahead, never at Ethan. “Are you ok?”

“I’m shocked. I’m confused. I want to know for certain… but…” he trailed.

“But?”

“But I’m most worried about you.”

She wanted to tell him not to be. She wanted to tell him she was fine. She knew that this was earth-shattering for him, and, as usual, she wanted to be his place of comfort and support. But this time, she couldn't be.

“Yeah,” she said trying to stifle tears, “I’m worried about me too.”

She stood up and walked across the room.

“Honey, I…” he got up to follow her. She still had her back to him when she lifted her left hand to stop him.

“No, no, Ethan. Please, don’t come by me. I know you didn’t do anything wrong. I know it is insane for me to be upset with you. But right now, I’m not thinking logically, and I need to be alone. Please?”

Ethan closed his eyes. “I understand.”

“I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back.”

Casey left their home and walked to The Esplanade. For the first half-hour, her mind was so clouded she didn’t even think about what just occurred. There was emptiness, a void inside her, unlike anything she had experienced before. She sat on a park bench and bent over, covering her face from any passersby.

This can’t be happening.

She kept telling herself this wasn’t Ethan’s fault. He didn’t know. She loved him more than anything in the world. How could she be upset with him? He didn’t do anything. But she was. She was so upset with him. He was the reason she would never be a mother. He was the one who gave an ultimatum and forced her to make a choice. She was fine with her decision because she loved him so much. But could she be fine with that decision now? She gave up her dream of motherhood to be with him, and now he may share a child with another woman. How could she live with that?

The pain in her heart was so wretched she didn’t think she could breathe, much less stand, but if she stayed still, she was convinced she would combust. So she lifted herself off the bench and walked furiously along the river.

Why are there so goddamned many baby strollers and kids out here today!?

She knew that there were probably no more than usual, but today, they were impossible to ignore.

She didn’t know how much time had passed since she left home, but the sun was beginning to set, and she wanted to return before dark. She was so far away, it would take her at least a half-hour to walk back, but there was no way her legs would carry her. She called Ethan and asked him to come to get her. She believed she was ready to face him. After all, she had no more tears left to cry. She was still anguished, but numbness and exhaustion began were taking the place of shock and horror, and, in comparison, they felt good. She leaned against a brick wall and awaited his arrival.

When Ethan pulled up, it was clear that his afternoon was every bit as painful as hers. Casey lamented that they were unable to share it together, but there was no way. His eyes were swollen and red and his expression was vacant until he saw Casey. The moment his eyes met hers, a look of sorrowful longing overtook him. She witnessed the transformation, and a warmth began to spread within her. She loved him. She loved him so much. She’d do anything for him, but she didn’t know what to do with this.

Ethan jerked his car to a stop, leaving it parked illegally behind him. He ran to Casey with the hopes of enveloping her in his arms, but he was unsure if she would accept him. To his overwhelming relief, she wrapped her arms around him and collapsed into his chest. She thought her tears had dried out… she was wrong. She sobbed into him as gentle tears fell down his face. He held her as tightly as he could, caressing her back and her hair.

“Casey, I love you. I don't know what to say. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can't imagine...."

“I know you don’t want to hurt me. I don’t know what to do either. I don’t know how to feel. Ethan, I’m just, I’m scared.”

“I am too, baby. I am too.”

“Can we go home? We need to talk, and we can’t do it here.”

We need to talk. He felt his chest clench.

“Of course, we can. Let’s go.”

He took her hand and led her to the car, opening the door and kissing her head when she sat down. The ride home was grueling. They drove in total silence, but their hands never parted, each wondering where did they go from here?

When the Bough Breaks - Part 2

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t-lostinworlds · 4 years ago

Text

Dear Santa (Tom Holland)

a/n: this made me want a baby, preferably with tom but anyway. here’s my gift to you lot for the holidays! i hope you enjoy this one <3

pairing: dad!tom holland x female!reader trope/genre: Dad AU; slight angst; fluff summary: It’s a yearly thing for Tom and your daughter to write letters to Santa together on what they want for Christmas. Only this time around, it was over video call given that Tom was miles away from his two—three, including Tessa—beautiful girls. Santa did get the letters though... warnings: tom being such a dad (which is a warning in its own right), a dash of ‘missing you’ angst, it’s so fluffy that i died a couple times, bad pun/dad joke & a lil steamy in the end. word count: 7.2k+

masterlist in bio & pinned post

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"Dada!"

"Hello, angel," Tom gushed, heart warming up ten times over as he looked right at his four-year-old daughter's beautiful and chubby face. Her little hand waved enthusiastically while she sat on the tall chair in the dining area, her beam turning brighter at the sight of him. "How was your day?" He slid himself in the little nook he had in his trailer, placing his laptop on the table in front of him and getting himself comfy as he listened to her tiny voice babble. Some of her words were mispronounced, sentences cut short and randomly stringed together but Tom listened to every single one of it with much interest.

"What?! She didn't," he gasped exaggeratedly when she talked about Tessa sitting on her while they played in the living room, the pup barking soon after to make her presence known.

"She did! 'N Tessa so heavy dada."

The young lad heard your sweet giggle next and his whole body softened even more at the sound. He leaned back on the seat with the brightest smile he could ever wear. Although Tom could feel the sting in his chest gradually grow when you came into view.

The curve on your lips was tender and sweet, one that he could never get enough of even after years of seeing it, one that he's so dearly missed seeing in person. Tom felt his heart ache the more he stared at his two precious girls, both looking at him with smiles. But still, he can see it, the tiny specks of sadness in your eyes all because he was thousands of miles away, five days before Christmas.

He would absolutely do anything to be in the same room with you two right now. Hell, even to just be in the same country but alas, work and duties. Tom has been away for roughly five months and the last time he's seen you two in the flesh was two months ago when you came over and visited him on set. Now, it was the holidays and he's still not home. And Tom can attest that it's one of, if not the worst feeling in the world.

It wasn't in his plan to be so far away at this time but his schedule is ever changing which led him to still be at work nearing Christmas. He'd done the best he could to try and make it before or on the 25th but it wasn't set on stone. No real and solid plans until the actual day which was very gut wrenching.

It was the first Christmas he's away, after all.

But at this moment, Tom has been lucky enough to have a few hours off this afternoon given that night shoots were the agenda of the day. And even though he should be using this time to get a few hours of sleep in before a very long night, of course, Tom took this opportunity to video call over instead. He just got done eating lunch but it was already dinnertime back in London, and he so badly needs to see your beautiful faces before you went to bed.

"Thalia, sweetie, go wash your hands for a sec, yeah?" you hummed, running your fingers gently through her curly hair, one she got from him. Although her eyes, her smile and overall beauty? It was all you, Tom thinks so at least. Well, except for that cute nose that she got from him as well. The more she grows, the more it shows how she's the perfect mixture of her parents, and it honestly makes his heart soar. Thalia is the reminder of the love you and Tom have, one that's pure and strong that blossomed into this joyful, precious and beautiful little girl.

She looked up at you with a soft pout, pointing towards the screen as she shook her head. "Bu—"

"I'll be right here pumpkin, don't worry. Listen to mummy," Tom chuckled softly. Upon seeing the apologetic smile you flashed him, he knew that you saw the flicker of sadness that crossed his features. You always do see right through him. He shot you a small reassuring nod, a silent way to tell you it was okay.

"No go anywhere," Thalia warned, narrowing her eyes at him.

Tom felt his heart break even more but he flashed her a wide grin, crossing his finger over his heart and said, "I promise."

Thalia reached a hand out for you to take, a sweet smile on your face as you curled your fingers around her tiny ones. "There you go," you said, helping her off the seat.

"Thank you," she hummed, tugging your hand to urge you to lean down. A lovely giggle vibrated in your chest once Thalia placed a wholesome smack on your lips, the sight making Tom's heart skip a couple beats.

"You're welcome, angel," you said. Thalia disappeared from the screen, Tom assuming she had swiftly made her way over her little stairs that he had built for her a couple months back, just so she could reach the sink. "Careful," you called out, the soft grunts of the little girl echoing in the kitchen along with Tessa pitter-patters on the tiles. Tom knew she was in a rush up the stairs, eager to get her hands clean so she can go back to talking to him. He doesn't know if the thought made his heart soar or break a couple more pieces.

You turned back to look at him through the screen, a shy smile erupting on your features the moment you saw him already gawking at you with the proudest grin on his lips. He just can't help but admire the goddess before him. You just look so stunning and gorgeous in a simple knitted sweater, you, his wife.

That alone was honestly enough to make Tom combust with the love that fills him up ten times over. But then, by the heavens above, you're such an amazing mother. He genuinely doesn't know what to do with himself. You make him feel like he's on top of the world. Both you and Thalia make him feel so, so happy.

"Damn, how did I get so lucky," he gushed, gaze locked with yours with adoration coating his orbs. "I mean, look at you, the fact that I get to call you my wife? Whew." He shook his head in pure disbelief, blowing out his cheeks in the process. You let out a bashful laugh with a roll of your eyes, his smile only growing at your reaction. It makes Tom's heart melt whenever you get all timid when he showers you with compliments and affections, all the more reason for him to keep doing it as often as he can.

"All clean!" Thalia exclaimed as she climbed back onto her seat with your guidance, showing her palms to him with a bright smile.

"That's my girl," Tom said proudly, shooting her a wink with a grin to match.

You moved the laptop farther so Tom could see both of you clearly. Disappearing for a moment, Tom heard you speaking to Tessa, handing the doggo her dinner he presumed. You came back into view soon after with two plates on hand, placing one in front of Thalia—to which she adorably clapped with a soft 'thank you'—and setting yours right beside hers. Tom simply watched with a smug smile as you handed the young girl her utensils before you sat yourself down. Your little girl waited for you to get situated without touching her food. Then you and Thalia locked eyes, lifting your spoons and taking a bite at the same time with giggles coming out of you both.

The amount of times Tom could literally die and resurrect at the adorable scene before him was immeasurable. He was unable to wipe the love-struck grin painted on his lips, cheeks hurting but totally worth it.

"Oh, that was a very big bite," he commented when Thalia took another spoonful. Tom adjusted the sleeves of his flannel shirt, pulling it up his forearms for him to easily prop his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his palm as he admired his two precious girls.

"Hmm, so good!" Thalia nodded enthusiastically, eyes all squinted with her cheeks puffed out as she chewed her food as thoroughly and as carefully as she could. Although a little bit of it still managed to stick to her chin, Thalia quick to clean it up with the napkin you placed right beside her plate.

God she's growing up fast.

Tom felt his eyes sting at the thought of his little girl growing to be not-so-little anymore. Not long ago he was the one who'd wipe the little crumbs and mess off her face, but now she can do it all on her own. He could honestly cry.

"You know what, I'm so jealous of you young lady," he huffed, leaning back with his arms crossed and a deep crease on the middle of his brows. "It's unfair how you get to eat mummy's cooking every day."

"I sent Sam some of my recipes, didn't I?" you asked, amusement laced in your tone as you furrowed your brows at him.

"Yeah, but it still isn't the same when it's you cooking because then I can give you hugs and kisses during the process." Tom pouted. "That's one of my favourite parts aside from eating."

"Ew, dada, cheesy."

Tom's mouth fell agape as his gaze snapped towards Thalia and then at you—to which you only shrugged with a giggle—and back to his daughter. "Okay, who taught you that?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"Uncle Haz!" Thalia exclaimed proudly, nodding her head as she continued eating.

Tom shook his head disappointedly as he locked eyes with you. "I've been telling you, love, Harrison is a bad influence on her," he grumbled, jokingly of course.

"Oh hush, it's not like what she said was a lie," you pointed out with a knowing smile.

"Hey!" He pouted.

Thalia giggled at his reaction. "Dada cheesy," she repeated.

Tom sighed, shaking his head but the smile never did leave his lips. It never could whenever his eyes are on you two. He was going to confront Harrison about that though; makes Tom wonder what other things that blonde lad has taught his daughter.

"How was your morning, bub?" you asked with a soft smile.

Tom relaxed in his seat as he proceeded to recount the events that happened earlier all while you both continued to eat your dinner.

"—and then we got to visit the children's hospital and gave out presents, which was nice."

"They met Spider-Man?" Thalia queried.

Tom gave her a nod with a wide smile on his face. "Yes, they did."

It's still surreal to him how he's managed to now have the fifth movie of the franchise. It was the last installment which was somewhat bittersweet on its own right. Nonetheless, Tom was very thankful with the run of his career as the famous web-slinger. Lucky and blessed would be huge understatements to describe his life. Even more so now that he's got a wonderful, beautiful daughter and an amazing, gorgeous wife.

"Dada a real life superhero."

Yup, he definitely couldn't get even luckier than this.

Tom let out a coo, bottom lip jutted out as he looked at you and then at Thalia with a little gloss in his eyes. "I could literally burst into tears right now. You own my heart, darling," he gushed. Eyes glancing back at you, he sighed, "You both do."

The warmth and love you held in your eyes glowed some more, his smile widening at the beautiful sight as he tilted his head at you sweetly. Turning back to his daughter, Thalia flashed him a wide smile, setting her spoon and fork down with a satisfied hum.

"Finish already?" Tom asked.

She nodded enthusiastically. "It's letter time!"

Tom can't help but chuckle. It's been a yearly thing for him and her to write their letters to Santa every 20th, always the same schedule which was after dinner. Thalia has grown accustomed to the tradition real quick despite only doing it for only a few years. Well, she is just four.

"Alright, alright, why don't you help mummy clean up while I'll go get my pen and special paper," he said with a wriggle of his brows. The young girl clapped cheerfully as she grabbed for your hand before hopping off her seat, gently taking her plate from the table and carrying it to the sink.

"She's getting so big, love," Tom breathed out, looking at you with his bottom lip jutted out.

"I know," you sighed, eyes on Thalia before you tilted your head at him with that gorgeous smile of yours, nothing but adoration coating your orbs.

Smile turning into a mischievous smirk, he wriggled his brows at you. "Should we make another one?" he purred, voice low and guttural but quiet.

"Thomas!" you hissed as softly as you could. You looked at your little girl briefly and Tom literally saw the relief that washed over your face before you turned back to him with a death glare. "She hasn't asked about that yet and I swear if you're the reason why she starts now—"

"Tessa, not the spoon!"

Your head whipped towards the direction of that little voice before you turned back to Tom with narrowed eyes. "You behave yourself, Mr. Holland," you warned, raising a brow at him and then walking off screen.

"Love you, Mrs. Holland!" he called out with a chuckle.

***

"Dada don't peek!" Thalia gasped once she saw Tom craning his neck teasingly. She glared at him as she covered her paper with her little hand, which was honestly the cutest thing ever.

"I'm not, I'm not," he chuckled, going back to writing his letter.

He wasn't really asking for presents. Well, realistically, he doesn't need to. Of course he could pretend and not write anything at all but he feels a little bad lying to his daughter. So, he resulted to jotting down the things he already has rather than asking for more. All of his yearly letters had consisted of nothing but gratefulness as he lists down what he's been blessed with and was so thankful for, you and Thalia always at the top of that list.

The party has been moved to Thalia's room now, the little girl fresh out her bath and was wrapped in her PJs. The laptop was right on the little desk she had in the corner where she practices her writing, reading and even drawings.

It was where they always write the letters. The previous years, Tom would sit right beside her in one of the tiny chairs as he helps her write. But now, instead of side by side, they were looking at each other through the screen, which honestly makes Tom's heart ache. To add to that, she was writing on her own too, a bittersweet feeling coursing through his bones. Because as much as how he feels so proud to see his little girl know—slowly but surely—how to write, there's always going to be a part of him that clings to the memory of her little hand encased in his much larger ones as he helps her navigate the pencil around the paper, letter by letter.

God, she needs to slow down on growing up. Tom can't honestly handle it.

"You peeked again!" she squealed when she saw Tom lift his brows with widened eyes as he tried to get a look at her paper. Thalia quickly glanced over her shoulder, pointing at the screen with a pout, so obviously telling on him which made him let out a hearty laugh. You came into view right behind the little girl, toys on hand which Tom knows you got off from the floor. There's always so many of them littered around her room. Well, he admits, he does spoil his little girl, sometimes.

"Dada, no peeking," you scolded playfully, raising a knowing brow at him, Tom's heart melting at the seams at your use of the nickname.

"I didn't see anything, I promise." He threw both his hands up in surrender, scrunching his nose at Thalia who only stuck her tongue out at him in response. You disappeared from shot again, continuing what you were doing, Tom assumed. He turned back to his daughter. "Now, write your name at the bottom so Santa knows who it's from. And then put it in the envelope and give it to mummy," he instructed.

Thalia scribbled a few more lines before taking the paper in hand, folding it up as best as she could—all wonky and uneven which is so darn cute—and then carefully sliding it in the envelope provided for her. She then lifted it up to you once you made your way back over to her desk. "Done!" she exclaimed proudly.

"Great job, angel," Tom commended. "Now, time to brush your teeth."

Thalia nodded before turning behind her to catch your eyes. "Mama, help please." She pointed towards the laptop as a way for her to say that she wants to bring it with her, never wasting any time to talk or just see him. Again, Tom doesn't know if his heart could melt or break at the thought.

You nodded with a hum just as she rushed towards the bathroom across the hall, you right on her tail as you carried the computer in your arms.

"Ugh, my heart literally soars every time I hear her call you mama," Tom groaned as he shook his head. "Never gets old."

"Stop being so adorable when I can't kiss you right now," you muttered.

Tom smirked, shooting you a teasing wink to which you only responded with a playful roll of your eyes before you placed the laptop by the sink. Thalia was back on screen again, already brushing her teeth like a pro. Tom knows he's being a broken record but she genuinely needs to stop growing up too fast.

It's not good for his dad heart.

"Smile, sweetheart," Tom hummed once she saw her finish, the little girl showing her rows of teeth at him proudly. "Very pretty," he cooed.

"Thank you," she said with a cute giggle. The little girl bounded back to her room and climbed on the bed, you following suit with the laptop in hand. You gently placed it at the foot and on an angle so Tom could see you both clearly as you tucked her in. "Tessa!" Thalia squealed, tiny fits of giggles escaping her lips soon after as the pup circled around to find a comfy spot before settling right next to her.

The lovely doggo has become Thalia's best friend, personal cuddle buddy, and bodyguard. Wherever she goes, Tessa is always in tow. They always, always sleep beside each other every night and it's honestly the most wholesome thing in the world.

The room became dim when you turned off the main light, leaving the lamp on as Thalia wiggled a few more times before finally settling down. "Story, dada?" she yawned.

Tom nodded with a smile, leaning over the table as he switched up his voice a little. "In a kingdom far, far away..." he started, Tessa resting her head on the little girl's tummy as if she wants to have a piece of the story as well. His smile widened when you sat beside your daughter, your fingers caressing through her hair lovingly as you listened.

Tom can't help but pout at you, missing the way those same fingers feel against his scalp as you run them through his hair. You shook your head with a soft laugh, raising your brow to urge him to keep going with the story.

Gasps and giggles escaped out of Thalia as she listened to him all throughout his impromptu fantasy world. She made sure to throw in her two cents, turning the story to how whatever way she sees fit.

"...and then the princess climbed on her dragon with her new found freedom as she flew into the sunset. The end," Tom finished, his little girl letting out another yawn with her eyes now barely open. He can't stop his heart from melting at the sight. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you," he cooed.

"G'night dada. Love you too," she hummed, eyes fluttering close as she threw her arm over Tessa.

"I'll see you soon my princesses," Tom whispered, eyes flickering over at his pup and daughter with a bittersweet smile.

Tom caught sight of the stars that circled around the room when you switched off the lamp and turned her night light on. You flashed him a smile as you took the laptop in your hand and ventured out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind you.

***

"How about you, my love, what's in your letter for Santa?" Tom asked as you settled yourself down on your shared bed, back against the headboard with the computer on your lap. The screen really doesn't do you much justice on how gorgeous you look, especially now when you got changed and opted on wearing his hoodie.

"I just want you home," you whispered, hand going over your mouth in realization that you said it out loud. Tom saw the guilt spread across your features once you locked eyes with him.

"I'm trying, darling," Tom sighed, hand running through his hair dejectedly, ache coursing through his chest at the sound of longing in your voice.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you rushed.

"No, nothing to apologise for, love," he said, flashing you a sad yet reassuring smile. "It kills me too, being so far away from you both. But I'll see what I can do okay?"

You shook your head, brows furrowed in worry. "You've already done all that you could, Tom."

"But I feel like I should be doing more," he admitted, frown settling on his lips as he held your gaze. Oh how he wished he could take the sadness away from your orbs, to feel your warmth as he pulls you into his embrace. He wants nothing more than to cover you with kisses, to whisper sweet nothings onto your skin to replace your frown with those giggles he adores. "I miss you so much," Tom sighed.

"I miss you too—"

"Tom—oh, hey, Y/N."

You smiled softly. "Hi, Harry."

"I hate to be the one to say this but they need you on set now," Harry said in dismay, shooting you and Tom a guilty smile.

Tom looked at the clock, shock befalling him on how fast time had passed. It didn't even feel like he's been sat in this little nook for five hours, didn't feel like he's talked to you enough at all. He thought he had a few hours more, not a couple minutes left.

His eyes landed back on you briefly and you only flashed him a small smile. Tom turned to his brother with a nod. "Yeah, okay, I'll be right behind you," he said.

"Tell Thalia her favourite uncle said hi," Harry said to you with a proud smile.

Tom shook his head at his brother's bold claim given that Thalia hasn't said that at all. She hasn't shown to have favourites, nor does she have anyone who she likes to spend time with, more. But being competitive lads, it was natural for his brothers—which includes Harrison, Tuwaine and Jacob—to compete for the title of her favourite uncle. She's just spoiled to bits really.

You let out a laugh, though it was a faint one, smile not as wide as you nodded at the twin. "Will do, Harry."

Harry flashed you one last smile before he turned to give Tom a curt nod, hand coming up to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze. Tom smiled at him gratefully, patting his hand before the younger lad made his way out of the trailer. Turning back to you, Tom felt his heart drop to his stomach.

"Darling, please don't cry," he whispered, hand instinctively reaching for you, a harsh foot stepping on his heart when his fingertips only got as far as touching the screen.

"I'm not," you muttered, blowing out your cheeks as you leaned to the side, so obviously trying to wipe your tears off screen. Tom still saw it though, and even if he didn't, he knows you like that back of his hand. The smallest change in your voice could tell him all.

Tom did his best to keep himself together, flashing you a small, comforting smile once you met his gaze again. "I'll see you soon alright?" he said. "I love you so much, darling."

You nodded, frown settling in your lips as you sighed, "I love you too, Tom, oh so much."

"Goodnight, my love." Tom tilted his head at you with a knowing grin. "Dream of me," he teased, earning a small giggle from you.

"Always."

***

"Is dada not coming home, mama?"

It was the 24th of December and your heart could do nothing but ache at your daughter's question. You tried your best to not let your frown be so prominent while you tucked her to bed.

"We don't know yet, lovie," you sighed, hand caressing her cheek tenderly. "But maybe dada will be here the moment you wake up tomorrow," you added, shooting her a knowing wink despite the sharp stab in your heart given that it was still uncertain.

Tom hasn't called at all the whole day. He only sent you a text earlier this morning explaining that he was going to be busy, hence why he won't be able to call. Strings of apologies buzzed through your phone even despite telling him over and over that it was okay. You know that guilt is eating him up whole right now, know for a fact that he's beating himself up black and blue by still not being home on Christmas Eve.

Thalia flashed you her sweet smile and a nod in response, not pressing anymore about her father's absence.

She's really smart for her age, so you wouldn't doubt it at all that she understands why Tom is away right now. You did tell her that her dad wasn't going to be joining dinner this time and she simply said, ''S okay. Dada is a superhero and superheroes are very busy.' And it honestly took everything in you to not start bawling at the dinner table.

"Story time, mama," Thalia hummed, taking your hand in hers as she tugged you closer.

"Okay, scoot a little you two," you said, both Tessa and Thalia making room for you to sit on the edge of the bed. "Once upon a time..."

***

With Thalia fast asleep, you treaded towards the door, leaving it slightly open—for Tessa in case she has businesses to attend to in the middle of the night—behind you and made your downstairs, turning on the little lights on the steps in the process. You went inside the living room, walking over to the wooden stool by the Christmas tree to take the plate of cookies and the glass of milk. You emptied the glass as you made your way to the kitchen, placing the cookies back in the jar and then putting the dirty dishes in the sink.

Venturing into the guest bedroom, you took out the bag filled with the few gifts you had wrapped up the day before. It wasn't a lot, just a couple of toys for both Tessa and Thalia. The little girl really hasn't asked much this year aside from a few toys she saw on TV or at the mall. And what she had on her letter...it was a bit difficult to get.

You slipped back inside the living room, placing the gifts under the tree along with the few sweets inside the stockings. Once you've turned off the electric fireplace, you went over to the tree lights next. But before you could even get to the plug, you suddenly heard the creaking sound of the front door opening and then closing, making you shoot straight up and freeze in your spot. Your heart pounded against your chest, hands trembling at the thought of a break in. Your mind ran a hundred miles per hour as you thought about what to do, ready to sprint upstairs to get to your daughter. You felt your breath hitch when you saw a figure emerged in the entryway.

But then you saw that it was him.

"Tom?" you gasped, eyes wide and glossed up, mouth opening in closing in pure shock as you stared right at your husband.

His face was now in full view as he pulled the hood of his hoodie down. A loving smile played on his lips, one you missed seeing in person. Your heart stuttered as you held each other's eyes, so many emotions swimming in those brown orbs but the love and satisfaction outshined everything else.

"Hi, darling," he sighed in pure content, that voice you love so dearly clear and real, not muffled by the poor quality of the laptop speakers. "Do I not get a welcome home hug?" he teased when you stayed in your spot, unmoving and simply gawking at him. Tom opened his arms wide for you to easily jump into.

Once you've got a hold of reality, you just ran to him full sprint, a sob escaping your lips as he caught you right in his embrace. Tom wrapped his arms around you with a shaky breath, squeezing you oh so tightly as he rocked you side to side. You breathed him in, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, hands fisting the material of his hoodie from behind as your body raked with soft sobs.

Tom pulled away briefly to cup your face in both hands, thumb wiping away the tears that sat on your skin. He smiled at you all adoringly, eyes turning glossy before he swiftly pressed his lips right on yours. You let out a whine as you melted into the kiss, fingers taking home in the mesh of his curls on the back of his head as you held onto him, to physically feel him, just to make sure that he was actually real.

"I fucking missed you so much," Tom groaned against your lips, arms back around your waist to pull you inhumanely closer. His warmth was quick to coat you both inside and out, the feeling of his lips on yours familiar but never fails makes your head spin. His embrace felt like home and oh how much you've missed it.

You pulled away to give into your lungs' needs, but only just a little, both of you in dire need to keep each other as close as possible. The tips of your noses brushed against each other as your chests heaved, though the smile on your lips never did waver.

You stared into his brown orbs, your brows furrowed lightly in question. "But how—"

"Once they gave me the go I took the first flight home," he said, pressing his forehead against yours as he stared right into your eyes with utmost love and the widest grin on his lips to match. You placed your hand on his cheek, Tom turning his head to press his lips against your palm briefly before he leaned into your touch.

"I can't believe you're actually here," you whispered.

"I couldn't miss spending Christmas with my two—" Tom stopped himself when he heard the pitter-patter of paws down the stairs. You turned to see Tessa bounding towards your direction, jumping right at Tom as he crouched down to greet her with a chuckle, "Right, three favourite girls."

Then a small voice spoke, "Dada?"

Tom's head shot up, his handsome face glowing even more, remaining crouched on the floor as he spread his arms. "There's my sweet pumpkin."

Thalia ran to him as fast as her little legs would let her. Laughs came out of the young girl, the sweet sound echoing around the room as Tom lifted her up and spun her around.

"Yay! Santa got my letter!" she cheered, both hands up in the air.

Tom settled her in his strong arms with a soft furrow of his brows. He looked at you confused.

Later, you mouthed.

Tom nodded as he turned back to his little girl. "I missed you so much, my princess," he said, littering her face with loud kisses to which Thalia squealed and giggled in response.

You wrapped your arms around yourself with a satisfied hum and a wide smile on your face. To see Tom be such an amazing and loving father never fails to make your heart grow twice its size, never fails to make you fall even deeper for your man, your husband.

The lovely sight of him and Thalia made your body tingle in more ways than one, a thought crossing your mind, a feeling in your bones telling you that it was the perfect time. It made you smile wider, heat dusting your cheeks as you tilted your head at your husband and daughter.

Tom caught you staring, a proud smirk erupting on those lips of his as he shot you wink. You can't help but roll your eyes at his smugness.

Of course he knows the effects he has on you, knows how him being such a dad makes your heart flutter. But also, how it makes your body fill up with heat and want that you'd have to resist the urge to pounce on him. It probably was obvious in the way you look at him, easily sees it in your eyes because he knows you, he is your husband after all.

But then again, maybe he knows because he's just the same, if not much more intense. The amount of times he's gushed over and over how he wants to put another baby in you whenever he sees you taking care of Thalia goes to prove that point.

It's an equal reaction really, both of you just as whipped for each other.

"Come here, darling." He beckoned you over with a sweet smile, resting Thalia on his hip as he held a hand out for you to which you gladly took. He pulled you closer, giving you a soft peck on the lips before snaking an arm around your waist. You wrapped your arm around the small of his back, chin on his shoulder as you looked at him with utmost love. He shifted his eyes from you and Thalia as he sighed, "It feels so good to be home."

It was such a picture perfect moment, a pure family in love. There was nothing but wide smiles on all your faces, happy to finally be in each other's embrace after so long. Plus, Tessa sat right in front looking at her humans lovingly with her tail wagging enthusiastically.

Thalia's head fell onto her father's shoulder as she let out a loud yawn, tiny fists rubbing over her eyes before she wrapped her arms around his neck. Your heart melted at the adorably sight, a soft coo escaping your lips as you reached over to brush the stray her that landed on her face.

Tom chuckled, turning slightly to give his daughter a kiss on the forehead. "Let's get you back to bed yeah?"

***

Tom came inside your shared bedroom just as you slipped the envelope inside your drawer. Closing it, you leaned back against the headboard with a smile, eyes landing back on your man who stood still in his place.

Tom had his back pressed against the closed door, staring right at you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"You going to join me in bed or are you just going to ogle?" you teased, raising your brow at him with a tilt of your head.

Tom chuckled, pulling himself off the door and sauntering over to you all while slowly stripping off his clothing, starting with his hoodie to his shirt and leaving them across the floor.

He's lucky you miss him too much to call him out on that, willing to give him a pass since he did just got off from a flight. He'll probably pick them up tomorrow though. If not then, he'll definitely hear from you.

By the time he's reached your side, he was left in nothing but his boxer shorts.

"She asleep?" you asked, looking up at your husband lovingly as he towered over you, standing on your side of the bed.

"Mm-hmm." He bit his lip with a smirk as he leaned down, hands on either side of your thighs that were hidden under the covers. "I've got such a beautiful wife huh," he muttered, brushing the tip of his nose against yours all adoringly before he captured your lips in his with a satisfied hum.

You giggled between the kiss, fingers lost in his hair as you pulled him closer, lips moving in sync like they've never been apart for so long. Tom nibbled at your bottom lip, a low groan erupting in his chest when you let him in, your tongues meeting as his hand landed on your thigh with a hot squeeze. You basked in his taste for a few moments more, letting him explore your mouth just to feel him closer, especially after months of being deprived from each other. Your hands slid down to rest on his broad shoulders, giving them a squeeze before you pulled away.

"Before you get too excited, I suggest you read Thalia's letter first," you said with a soft giggle.

Tom let out a hearty laugh, nodding in agreement and giving you once last peck before he jumped over you as threw himself on his side of the bed. The whole mattress bounced due to his weight, earning a pointed eye roll from you. Always a dork no matter what.

He slipped himself inside the covers, settling back against the headboard just as you rummaged through your drawer. You handed him an already opened envelope before you laid your head on his shoulder, slinging an arm over his naked torso as you snuggled to his side. Tom took out the piece of paper, a smile erupting on his lips once he unfolded it, eyes catching sight of his daughter's messy handwriting.

His strong arm wrapping around your shoulder, Tom pulled you closer, giving you a tender squeeze before he read the letter out loud:

Dear Santa,

Please bring dada home.

Me, mama and Tessa miss him so much and I don't want mama to be sad anymore.

Thank you, Santa.

Thalia

Tom tore his eyes off the paper to look at you with a pout, brown orbs glossing up as he placed the paper back in its envelope and set it aside. Snaking both his arms around your form, he gave you a loving squeeze. "Such a sweetheart with a big heart, just like her mother," he hummed, leaning down to give your forehead a sweet kiss.

"I read that at the mall when I did last minute shopping. I had to rush to the bathroom to get myself together. I got so stressed because I don't know if you were coming home or not. Which would then go down to explaining to her that Santa didn't get her letter and I really didn't want to break her heart like that," you elaborated, Tom's fingers caressing your arm comfortingly. "And then I was walking past this comic book store and saw this life size cardboard cutout of you as Spider-Man with the mask off. I was really contemplating if I should just get that instead," you laughed.

"You should've," Tom chuckled.

"And creep her out? No." You shook your head with a giggle. You pulled away from him slightly, his hands sliding down to rest on the small of your back once you did so. With your palm flat against his toned chest, you gawked at his handsome face with nothing but love. "Yet here you are, always here to save the day," you hummed.

Tom smiled widely at you, hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek fondly before he pulled you down for a passion-filled kiss.

"Now," he murmured against your lips, hand sneaking down and under the covers, fingers hot against your bare thigh. He gave it a pointed squeeze before he pulled away slightly. "What do you want, my gorgeous wife?" he purred, a certain glow in those brown orbs as his smirk grew.

With a quick peck on his lips, you release yourself from his grasp for a second so you can reach inside your drawer. You gave him another envelope, a sealed one this time, Tom taking it with a confused look on his face. Lying down on your side, you propped your head up with your hand as you waited for him to read it.

Brows furrowed, Tom opened it and pulled out the letter, pupils moving slowly as he scanned the words. You can't help but giggle once you saw the shift of emotions on his face, his eyebrows rising as he stared at your handwriting wide-eyed.

Dear my lovely Tom,

Thalia is due a younger sibling, don't you think?

Love, Y/N ;)

Never have you ever seen Tom move so fast in your life.

Your sweet laugh echoed around the room as he immediately pulled the covers off your body so he could get himself on top of you without any hindrance. He hovered above you with a wide smirk on his lips, strong hands gripping your thighs as he threw them around his waist, body slotted in between your legs with ease.

He didn't waste any more time as he swiftly dipped his head to capture your lips with utmost love but also, need. The kiss was hot, rushed, a little messy and filled with absolute fervour.

Arms taking home around his shoulder, you pulled him closer into you, your heels digging into the small of his back, both of you groaning at the familiar closeness, bodies fitting perfectly together like two puzzle pieces.

Tom slipped his tongue in your mouth with ease when rutted his hip once which earned a gasp from you. He did it again with a low growl, to make you feel just how badly he needs you. And oh you can feel it alright, feel it really hard. There was the obvious desperation coursing in you both; it's been months after all.

Pulling away for a moment, Tom wriggled his brows at you with lust-filled eyes and a love-struck smirk. Your chest was heaving as you stared right into those brown orbs, ones that turned even darker as his hands took hold of the hem of your—his—shirt. He was ready to pull it off of you but not before saying,

"I guess Santa isn't the only one emptying his sack this Christmas."

"Thomas!"

-:-:-:-:-

♛ Overall/Everything Taglist: @theunwantedomega @badreputatiom @fallinfortom @disneysamara @avengersficwriter @musicalkeys @apatheticanvas67482 @camimndess @tom-hlover @jjandreidsgirl @caramelscoffee @thenoddingbunny-blog @sarcasticallywitty15 @call-me-baby-gir1 @miraclesoflove @tanakaslastbraincell @itstaskeen @hollanddolanfangirl ♛ Tom H. Taglist: @hollandfanficlove @averyfosterthoughts @2018shawn @darlingspidey @namoreno @spacebitch2 @keepingupwiththehollands @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @unbelievableholland @kittenruby @sunkisseddreamer @worldoftom @quaksonhehe @big-galaxy-chaos @clara-licht @dummiesshort @imanativeofswlondondahling @sonofabitchstyles @peaches-parker @geminiparkers @parker-hollandx @arivera-30 @rebekkah4766 @particularnarry @iwannabekilledtwice @prettyintopeerpressure @spideyspeaches @givebuckyhisplumsnow @asoftie4bucky @dandelionxgal @peterspideysstuff @zspideyy @lmaotshollandd @sluttytears @likearainbowinthedark @hommyy-tommy @madz-holland @becicamina

just let me know if you want to be removed from the taglist hun! <3

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland reader insert #tom holland one shot #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfic #dad!tom #my writing

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thesimperiuscurse · 4 years ago

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08.04

It’s The Kingston Legacy’s sixth anniversary, so here’s a throwback post to celebrate! Last month I forced myself to reread the entire legacy, and while I stopped, clicked off the tab, and emitted a soundless scream of pure cringe numerous times (I wish I was kidding)—the past generations are actually not as terrible as I remember. I think enough time has passed for me to detach myself from the childish storytelling and look back in nostalgia.

Thank you to my fellow Wordpress writers who have come along the journey, some for many years now, through every high and low. It’s astounding how much has changed in the legacy from when I was 15, and 21. Follow me down the (very) long memory lane, as I reminiscence about each story and my perspective on them now ❤

Generation 1 — Fern (2015)

To my shock, I found myself genuinely enjoying Fern’s story. I think this was because the first generation was purely me commentating on gameplay, and not trying to write a story (that’s when the cringe began). I was inspired by one of the original stories, Alice and Kev, to make a homeless sim and document her struggle for a better life: Fern, a snobby aspiring writer. Reading this, a huge wave of nostalgia hit me, and it reminded me of how wonderful Sims 3 gameplay is. Although I’m long past it now, there’s real heart and life in the design. I think it speaks about the rich personalities and quirks that I could write a whole life story off it. It was super fun making Fern camp out at Old Pier Beach, stealing from townie picnics and roasting apples on the fire, finding little ways to scrounge money, giving her a makeover in the salon, watching the townie dramas unfold around her. Although she faced homelessness two times and a shitty first husband (yeah, fuck off, Xander), Fern grew into a strong and independent yet sweet and gentle character, in love with the ocean like her great-granddaughter comes to be.

I never actually addressed this, but she (and her love Christopher) passed away in the story between the end of Gen 3 and start of Gen 4. It just felt weird to make it a big deal because they never died in game—still ‘alive’ and well, scattered across different backup saves and the bin.

Generation 2 — Briar (2015)

Briar’s story was strange, because it was half gameplay and half story, which meant that there were things that just did not... make... sense. She was quite an ‘unreliable’ character to follow because of her Insane trait. The plot revolved around her as a fresh detective, investigating supernatural phenomena in Sunset Valley. Her character arc was almost the opposite to her mother’s: a naive, optimistic, silly girl hardening through trauma into a cold and ruthless police chief. Ash’s death was the one moment I felt true sadness in this legacy, because he did really die. Imagine me actually getting emotional over my characters, lmao. Wild.

Also, Max is OP. To this day he is one of the best male characters in my legacy, a healthy and supportive best friend (to husband) in stark contrast to the following generation.

Fallen Angels — Cherry (2016-2019)

Yes. It’s this generation. Square the fuck up, Cherry. I will fight her any day. Old readers will know of my pure hatred for this story. It’s been about two years since it thankfully ended. My verdict now?

It’s not quite as horrifically shitty, Gabriel and Lilith being a lot nicer than I remembered (Gabriel’s only a bit of a dick at the start), but it still has glaring problems, such as the pacing and clumsy handling of sensitive topics. The story would have been far nicer if it focused less on Cherry and Luc’s relationship and their respective issues, more on the found family and her relationship with Gabriel (which was rushed due to me despising the story by that point). During the first chapters, I was cringing spectacularly at the combination of Luc’s initial jackass behaviour and Cherry’s whining. Toxic as FUCK. I had to skip 3.8 and 3.9 entirely. These two (because of my own shameful mistake) tainted the generation in my eyes, and even though all of the characters grew from their toxicity, I can’t really see past that guilt to the better parts of the story.

Jade has been telling me for years that this story isn’t all bad, and upon forcing myself to reread, I can see what you mean. I’m sorry LOL. Something that pleasantly surprised me was the writing quality (just the prose, not the actual story mechanics... lmfao), and Raphael, who made me smile every time he appeared. Every single careless, sarcastic line of his was a banger. The pictures are something else I like, too. Many of them stand up to the best ones in En Pointe—the fiery, gritty, industrial tones of Bridgeport just hits different. The world was rich and immersive, which is missing at the moment in En Pointe because of me being too lazy to build a proper Los Angeles world, but Act III is set in Boroughsburg so I’m excited to get back into the city scenes. 17 year old me wasn’t mature enough to tackle dark themes, but at least the visuals for them were nice, I guess. The atmosphere of the story I really enjoy. It’s just the toxic characters and way-too-angsty moments that ruin the whole thing for me.

En Pointe — Evangeline (2019-)

And here we are now! The early chapters are kinda painful to read because 1) Mako looked so ugly and 2) the dialogue was so clumsy and generic. I sighed in relief when Chapter 5 came around, because it was then both of those aspects really began to improve. Eva’s voice was simple, with her punchy remarks, much less romantic and descriptive than Cherry, so it was interesting to see her voice becoming more complex and layered as I more understood her character. Also, me visibly struggling with the natural lighting and only getting a handle on it 7 chapters later has me shaking my head.

I’m already beginning to identify issues with the story, mostly with character arcs and pacing. It’s a strange combination of fast pacing (spanning half a year in 8 chapters) and Eva becoming surprisingly comfortable with Mako’s touch due to their unusual pas de deux circumstances. It’s curious how real life time actually played into the pacing of the story—because of the slow publishing schedule, less time has passed in the story as real life, so it’s almost as if the time jumps were made up by real life time, making the jumps feel not too strange. Reading consecutively, however, Evako’s relationship growth doesn’t feel slow burn... a little underdeveloped, in a way, despite their lengthy conversations. I think that’s because of Mako being such a reserved and mysterious character, and that I’ve unconsciously come to rely on Tumblr to give more depth to the characters/relationships. Luckily, pretty much everyone who comments on the story also follows me here, so this dual-platform storytelling is okay, I suppose. I want to post more of #Mishako since there just isn’t enough time to explore their bromance in the story!

At the moment I’m not happy with the story, but it’s fine. I’m learning. There’s more than half the story to go, which means plenty of time to reflect upon the issues and improve. I’m really looking forward to Eva and Mako’s character arcs in Act III. At the moment their relationship is based on their natural chemistry and respect for each other, and since they are yet to face trials their bond isn’t super deep, but Evako are still my favourite couple in the legacy thus far, and feel much more real than any character I’ve written before. It’s been very interesting for my aro ass (and being way more logical than emotional) to figure out a dynamic that is actually compelling to me, because most of the time when I look at romance I’m just like 😐🤨 I’m liking it so far but we shall see how everything unfolds, because I have barely any idea what’s going to happen beyond Act II, lmfao.

That’s it for my incredibly long throwback! I hope it was at least nice for the OG readers, and interesting for anyone else who managed to battle through this essay, haha. This family has been an integral part of me growing up, as a person and writer and artist (what I’ve developed in visuals I apply to architecture), learning a great deal of awareness about real life through story research, which is pretty cool now that I think about it. I’m aiming to finish En Pointe by the end of 2022. I’m excited for what unexpected changes are to come!

#wordpress is being annoying like tumblr right now #they're trying to sneakily integrate the new site design into the old #pretty sure a lot of people don't like the new one #why can't i view media by month #now i have to scroll through a million pictures to find old ones #why is it selecting several when i just want to open one pic #fuck youuu #anyway #very busy week #lilaremonn #thesimperiuscurse

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ibijau · 3 years ago

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Lapse in memory pt 3 / on AO3

aka the fic where nhs is cursed into amnesia a few years post canon, and came to lxc for help

The worst part of Nie Huaisang’s amnesia, Lan Xichen soon decided, was the realisation that he should have seen long ago that there was something wrong with Nie Mingjue’s little brother.

Although the other man had apparently always possessed frightening self control which made it difficult to know how much his current loss of memory impacted him, he used that control in a manner very different from what he had done after the death of his brother. Instead of displaying eternal sorrow and helplessness, Nie Huaisang was acting exactly the same as he had done before his life took a turn for the worst. He smiled, and chatted with people as if things were perfectly fine, only to break down once alone with Lan Xichen, asking when this person had died, whether that remark had been a joke or a reference to a true event.

If he hadn't known better, if he hadn't been shown the other side Lan Xichen might have fallen for that new comedy as he had fallen for the old one. Nie Huaisang was good at this.

In fact, as Lan Xichen started remembering over the following days, he was good at many things.

For example Nie Huaisang was smart, it turned out. After a decade of lies, Lan Xichen had forgotten that, too used to a man who barely managed to pick his own outfits without needing three different opinions, and would make four mistakes in a two digit addition. And indeed, when it came to cultivation, or when Wei Wuxian tried to discuss his ideas about what curse might have hit him, Nie Huaisang was clearly lost. But when the topic interested him, when someone mentioned art or literature, he spoke expertly and always made excellent points.

Because he had his own duties to attend, and he aimed at being a better sect leader than he had been in the past, Lan Xichen spent little time with Nie Huaisang at first, and thus rarely enjoyed his conversation. Since the other man couldn’t be allowed to wander freely when there was still the possibility that all this was only a deception, Lan Xichen assigned one of his young disciples he trusted the most to stay with Nie Huaisang and make sure he didn’t misbehave. Almost immediately, he started hearing about the heated debates that Lan Jingyi and Nie Huaisang got into over classics, over art, over just anything that could be debated, and quite a few that shouldn’t. Lan Xichen had offered to find another person to keep Nie Huaisang company, only for Nie Huaisang to protest he was having great fun with Lan Jingyi.

It surprised Lan Xichen at first. Nie Huaisang wasn’t a man who enjoyed confrontation.

But he had once been a boy who did. Nie Mingjue used to complain at length about that, as did Lan Qiren when he’d had the dubious pleasure of teaching him. Nie Huaisang once had opinions on just about everything, especially if it could get him out of doing something he didn’t enjoy. Lan Xichen had found it amusing for a long time, and even he had been tricked into the odd argument here and there. But then there had been the war, there had been the constant worsening of Nie Mingjue’s temper, and Nie Huaisang’s tendency to argue over everything hadn’t felt so cute anymore.

After those difficult final few months, it had been a relief, in a way, when Nie Huaisang’s grief had made him so mild and pliable. He had never objected to any advice given to him, agreeing to everything and anything that Nie Mingjue’s sworn brothers suggested. If Lan Xichen hadn’t been so devastated by the loss they had both suffered, perhaps he would have noticed something was wrong.

Perhaps it was guilt, then, that soon pushed Lan Xichen to rearrange his schedule so he could spend a little more time with Nie Huaisang every day. He refused to let him down again. Or perhaps it was selfishness, the joy of having an old friend back in his life, someone who didn't know about his failings, and didn't judge him for being imperfect.

"Imperfection is more fun," Nie Huaisang claimed one evening, as they sat together inside the Hanshi's courtyard, watching a pair of swallows build a nest under the rafters. "I like you better when you're not trying to be Zewu-jun. Zewu-Jun is a very boring person, while Lan Xichen is delightful company. Do you remember how we used to laugh sometimes when I came here to study? You did such a good imitation of your uncle. And you'd help me with my homeworks, and I'd let you have candies… wasn't that more fun than being perfect?"

"I miss those days," Lan Xichen admitted, something he had never told anyone except Jin Guangyao, once. He'd instantly regretted it back then, realising that Jin Guangyao had never had a chance to enjoy a carefree youth. He didn't regret telling Nie Huaisang who laughed so hard he startled the swallows, making them fly away for a moment.

"Of course you miss that! Well, I'm back now, and until I'm better I can give you a taste of how it used to be. If I make you laugh enough, you'll stop being angry at me, right?"

“I’m not angry at you,” Lan Xichen said, which to his surprise wasn’t even a lie. This young and innocent Nie Huaisang, whose biggest crime was cheating during exams, who hadn’t yet discovered his own viciousness through fighting with Nie Mingjue and then for him, who could be irritating but always remained endearing… how could Lan Xichen have been angry at him?

“But you’re angry at the man I’ve become,” Nie Huaisang said.

Lan Xichen looked at him, that handsome young man sitting just a little too close, leaning somewhat toward Lan Xichen and yet tense enough that at the first sign of anger he’d probably leap away and disappear, the way he used to do with Nie Mingjue.

Lan Xichen wondered again how he had forgotten how observant Nie Huaisang could be. He should have known. The moment Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji told him that something terrible had been done to Nie Mingjue’s body, Lan Xichen should have guessed that Nie Huaisang knew as well, and that he’d be doing anything to avenge his brother.

“I think I’m more angry at myself than at you,” Lan Xichen said. “What happened, what you’ve done, it was… Maybe you really had no choice, or you thought you had no choice anyway, and I’m not sure I have a right to judge you. You… you still don’t remember, do you?”

“No. I don’t think I want to,” Nie Huaisang said. He started playing nervously with his sleeve, having forgotten his fan somewhere, and hesitantly spoke again. “I don’t think he wanted to remember either,” he whispered. “Him. Me. I… I don’t think it was an accident, Er-ge. I think I forgot on purpose.”

Startled by the confession, Lan Xichen stared again at Nie Huaisang who avoided his eyes. He looked pale, and started shaking slightly, as if again expecting a burst of anger that didn’t come. Lan Xichen was too stunned for that.

“When did you start suspecting this?”

“Right away,” Nie Huaisang confessed, nervously playing with his sleeve, pulling and tugging at the fabric. “It was just too odd that there was nothing at all about those lost years. I found some recent correspondence which let me know I wasn’t on very good terms with you, Jiang Cheng and Jin zongzhu, but that was it. And I know myself, Er-ge. I’ve kept a journal of everything I do since I was seven. Everything important, I write it down so I remember, I should have had a trace of those missing years.”

Lan Xichen nodded. Nie Huaisang had mentioned that habit of his, back when he was studying in the Cloud Recesses. Back then he’d complained that too little happened and he had nothing to write down, but also that homework and studying took so long he almost didn’t have time for his diary. Lan Xichen hadn’t realised that the habit was such a serious one, and he’d never heard Nie Huaisang mention it again as an adult, so he hadn’t thought to ask about that.

“Could it be that you simply stopped doing this?” Lan Xichen asked.

Nie Huaisang shook his head and frowned.

“It’s not just a hobby. My memory isn’t great, I really forget things if I don’t write them down. Everything important… in code if it's too important, of course, I’m only a little stupid. And I hid the journal, and kept all of them, from the very first. I’m the only one who knew where they’re all kept, but when I went to check, many of them had been destroyed, or at least moved somewhere else. Everything after the Sunshot Campaign is gone. Maybe he hoped to forget the war too.”

Not so much the war as what had happened just before it, Lan Xichen thought. He’d heard about the way hostage juniors had been treated by the Wens, and the horror of the Xuanwu of Slaughter killing people in that cave. Nie Huaisang had never wanted to talk about that, Lan Xichen recalled. He usually loved to complain, but on that particular topic he’d always close off or change the subject.

Aside from the death of Nie Mingjue, the terror of the evil Xuanwu had to have been the worst moment of Nie Huaisang’s life.

Without thinking Lan Xichen took Nie Huaisang’s hand, hoping to comfort him. Nie Huaisang startled and trembled, but didn’t try to remove his hand.

“I think it’s like you said,” Nie Huaisang explained, looking pleadingly at Lan Xichen. “That he did certain things because he thought he had no choice. He… I… if someone harmed da-ge, then I’d want to harm them back," he hissed with such rage that Lan Xichen shivered, reminded of the man Nie Huaisang had indeed become. "Even if it was san-ge! I can’t believe he’d do something like that, he’s always so nice, but it doesn’t matter. If I had been sure he’d hurt da-ge, then I… I would…”

“I know,” Lan Xichen said, squeezing Nie Huaisang’s hand.

“I think I had regrets of a sort though,” Nie Huaisang said. “The way it seems to me… I didn’t regret that these things had been done, I didn’t regret that people had died or been hurt, but I didn’t want to live with the weight of that either. I think… I’m a little bit of a coward, Er-ge. I’m fine with knowing I did horrible things, I just don’t want to know what they are, because that way it’s not really me who did them. So I can see why I chose to forget, and I also don’t want to remember.”

Had it been anyone else, Lan Xichen would have found that person cowardly indeed. Just as he bore the guilt of his failures and strove to do better, he would expect others to face their own faults, take their punishment, and try to improve in the future. But Nie Huaisang wasn’t just anyone, and Lan Xichen pitied him too much to wish for his suffering. Nie Huaisang had already been punished enough for what he’d done, having lost his brother, having lost all his friends, having lost the respect of his sect.

Having lost himself, too.

“It’s fine if you don’t remember,” Lan Xichen said. “You can stay here with us. Wei Wuxian seems happy enough to have you around, Lan Jingyi loves having someone to argue with… even uncle said the other day that it’s been a while since he’s had a decent opponent at weiqi.”

“And what about you?” Nie Huaisang asked, his cheeks a little pinker than they ought to be. “Are you also happy to have me here?”

“I am,” Lan Xichen replied, surprised to find that this, too, was the truth.

Partly because he’d always been a little too fond of Nie Huaisang, back before the Sunshot Campaign changed everything and forced him to set aside most of his personal attachments to better serve his sect. Partly, also, because he liked this current Nie Huaisang, who wasn’t quite as naïve and self-absorbed as he’d been as a boy, but lacked the cruelty years of solitude and resentment had taught him.

This was Nie Huaisang as he would have been, had the world been a little kinder. A clever young master who watched the world around him and understood people a little too well, but loved fun too much to ever do anything with what he learned, as long as his loved ones were safe.

“I’m glad to be here as well,” Nie Huaisang said.

He shuffled a little closer until he could rest his head against Lan Xichen’s shoulder. It had been years since anyone dared to be so carelessly intimate with Lan Xichen, who found he didn’t mind. Not if it was Nie Huaisang.

“You know, I’ve talked with Wei-xiong today, about this,” Nie Huaisang continued. “About what happened to me, and why, and how. He thinks it’s a curse, and there’s probably a condition that would allow it to be lifted. There usually is, after all. But I think if I really did this to myself, I'd have picked an impossible condition, because I wouldn't want to be saved from it. So I might stay like this for the rest of my life.”

“And you’ll be welcome to stay here that entire time,” Lan Xichen promised without thinking, squeezing Nie Huaisang’s hand again.

“That sounds really nice. I think I’ll take you on your offer, Er-ge,” Nie Huaisang said with a smile that Lan Xichen would have kissed if he’d dared. Later, while lying in his bed, he would wonder if he should have tried, only to eventually decide it would have ruined the moment.

Perhaps someday, in the future, thing would take that direction. For now they both had too much to deal with, too much to learn again about each other. It was fine. Lan Xichen was content to remain like this, sitting close together, holding hands, and watching those swallows finish their nest.

Just this was already more than he’d ever imagined he would get.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #if I had a tag for that story I don't remember it #but it started as a prompt fill so I probably didn't have a tag for it lol #nhs amnesia

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arcane-apathy · 4 years ago

Text

Part 1

AN: Part 1 of 3 for this Male Naga X Female Reader. I’m hoping to get better at writing short stories, but it’ll take some practice. I hope y’all enjoy!

Warning(s): N/A

You didn’t know why you decided to leave home but your mind was already made up and the U-Haul was already packed. There was no going back now. You didn’t want to be a big city nurse anymore, and you also didn’t want to move back to your hometown. So, this year you decided to move to New Mexico, specifically Peralta. A town of a little over three thousand people. The eastern half of town right on the border of the Isleta Pueblo Reservation, and the Rio Grande River to the west. You could even see the Manzano Mountain Range in the distance.

The drive to Peralta was taxing, but unbelievably beautiful. No wonder why New Mexico is called The Land of Enchantment. You made it to your new home in the middle of the day, and the sun was high above you. Of course you decided to move in the middle of summer, the dry heat smacking you in the face as you got out of the rental truck. You shielded your eyes from the sun as you stared at your new home.

The property was near the end of a dirt road, about a city block away from the local cemetery. But you didn’t mind, in fact it made the house even cheaper. You’d just have to remember to cleanse the house whenever you got a chance. The house was a simple one-story pueblo style house, the faux-adobe outside was an ivory color, and the windows were painted pear green. It lacked the wooden vigas, making it obvious that it wasn’t an actual pueblo home. The house was small, the yard was huge, it had a detached stainless-steel garage, and a dirt driveway. All surrounded by a chain link fence with a gate.

It didn’t take you long to unload the U-Haul, considering you sold most of your things before you moved. You lay your mattress on the bedroom floor and the majority of boxes stay in your living room. You look at the time on your phone, there was still two hours until the U-Haul’s scheduled return time. Un-packing wasn’t the first item on the agenda, some serious cleaning needed to be done before you thought about anything else.

Granted the house wasn’t in horrible shape, but it was obvious that it’s been a few months since anyone has lived in it. The air was stuffy, there was dust on everything, and there was dirt all over the floors. You search for your bag of cleaning supplies that you bought at a Wal-Mart in Albuquerque, well prepared to clean. With the house being so small, it didn’t take you long to clean, so you took your time admiring your new home. The house was made in the seventies, the Spanish-style linoleum tiles in the kitchen being the proof. Yet it didn’t look like it came out of a home magazine that your grandmother would've read. There were some obvious updates throughout the years. Thankfully central air was one of them.

You returned the U-Haul and the towing dolly on time, driving your car back home. You stopped at a Domino’s on the way home, not yet ready to try the local food. Unpacking was the only thing on your mind. And no surprise to you, it took all night. Packing wasn’t easy, because you had to take things from their place and sort them into boxes. Unpacking was another challenge, the amount of times you switched which cabinet your plates went in was frustrating. By two in the morning you had everything put away, there were sheets on your bed, and your eyelids were heavy.

~~***~~

It’s been a month since you’ve moved, and you’ve loved it more that you’d ever thought. Living in your one bedroom house was a dream compared to any other apartment you’ve had before. You’ve gotten over the linoleum in the kitchen, and you couldn’t even imagine the house without it. The yard was easy to maintain, considering it was primarily dirt. You didn’t see much of your neighbors but they were nice from what you could tell. And the quiet was refreshing.

You spent most of your days at work, a health center in the middle of the Isleta Pueblo Reservation. The work was tough, and didn’t pay much, but it was obvious that they needed you there. According to your co-workers everyone wanted to work in the big cities and that smaller health centers, especially ones for the native populations, were constantly understaffed. You became a licensed practical nurse because you wanted to help people, and working in an at risk community fulfilled that goal.

To say you were surprised when your co-worker invited you to her birthday party in Albuquerque was an understatement. Although you didn’t know her that well, you still went. You needed socialization outside of the workplace and the occasional video calls with your family back home. So, you put on your best outfit and did your best to look presentable. The night started off at a restaurant, the food was amazing, and the company was actually enjoyable. After dinner you all went to a bar, so far it was a typical birthday party for a bunch of girls in their twenties.

You stood against the wall, nursing a drink as everyone else in your group dance. Normally you weren’t such a party pooper, but these girls weren’t much of your crown. It was too early in the night to go home, and they all knew that you didn’t work tomorrow so you couldn’t use that excuse. Hence why you resorted to people watching. The bar was packed with humans and non-humans alike, all dancing with each other. There were already a few couples sharing face in the darker corners.

“You look bored,” a blunt voice shook you from your daze. You look to the side, noticing as a tall man slithered up to you. Not metaphorically. Your eyes instantly gravitated to his tail, the bulk of muscle trailing closely behind him as he moved. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the pattern of his scales. The base was beige and was decorated in an assortment of splotches all in varying shades of brown, and at the very end of it all was a black rattle. He laughs at your reaction, “have you never seen a Naga before?”

“Not up close, there weren’t that many back home,” you flush a little as you are caught staring. Which wasn’t a lie, you didn’t see many growing up, nor did you encounter a lot at work either. A surprising statistic you’ve learned since you moved is that New Mexico has the highest population of Naga in the United States, with Texas as a close second. You have seen a few as you wandered around Peralta and the neighboring towns, but you have yet to talk to them.

“Oh, you’re from out of town. How exciting,” he smiles and extends a hand, “Santiago Rosales.” You shake his hand and introduce yourself. His smile grows and the rainbow lights from the dance floor reflect off his fangs. You couldn’t deny that he was an attractive man, tan skin, curly raven hair, a triangular face with a strong jawline, and golden serpentine eyes. You look back at the dance floor and notice one of your co-workers giving you a thumbs up. “So, not to sound cheesy… But why is a pretty chica like you, not out there?”

You flush a little at his definitely cheesy comment, “I’ve already done my socializing for the evening, but if I leave now I’ll never hear the end of it at work. What about you, why aren’t you out there?”

He motions to his tail, “I’m in no mood to get stomped on.”

“Oh… I didn’t even think of that. Does it happen often?”

“It happened a lot when I was a kid, but I was kinda a wimpy kid too,”

You raise a brow as you look at how snugly his button up fits to his arms and chest, “wimpy?”

“Hey I wasn’t always like this, I was a string bean growing up. It took years for this to happen,” he motions to himself proudly. You laugh and finish your drink, Santiago looks at the empty glass, “may I offer to buy you another drink?”

You contemplate it for a second then shake your head, “no thank you, I have to drive home tonight. And I don’t live in Albuquerque.”

“Is it too weird to ask where you live then?”

“Peralta,” you shrug.

“Really? My mom lives in Peralta… Maybe I’ll see you around?”

~~***~~

And you did, the first time you saw Santiago was at the grocery store. You were trying to figure out what brand of refried beans to buy when he came down the aisle, slithering alongside an older Naga woman. He didn’t acknowledge you, which made you question whether he recognized you at all. The second time you saw him was at the post office, and he immediately smiled when he saw you. Your heart couldn’t help to flutter at the sight of him. The third time was at the bank, both of you waiting in line at the tellers.

The fourth time was when everything changed. You were standing in the bathroom aisle at Target in Albuquerque, looking through the wide array of shower curtain options. You heard your name being called and you looked up, expecting to see someone from work, possibly even a regular patient. But, instead your eyes were graced with the sight of a familiar Naga in a taut shirt and a leather jacket, “oh, hi Santiago.”

“Hola, looking for a shower curtain I see,” he smiles as he sidles up beside you.

You fluster a little, realizing you were still wearing your baggy maroon scrubs. “Indeed I am, it’s been two months and my house still looks like no one lives in there.”

He looks you up and down, his eyes stopping at the embroidered patch above your breast, “you work at Isleta Health Center?”

Your brows knit in confusion and you look down at the patch, resisting the urge to face palm, “yes, yes I do. Sorry, I just got off my shift and I kinda forgot I was still wearing this monstrosity.”

“You don’t look bad at all if I’m being honest…”

Damn he was slick, “it’s not the worst, but I hate how plain it is. I sold all my fun scrubs when I moved, so I’m stuck with the standard issues until I buy more.” He nods and looks at the shower curtains in your hands curiously. “So, what are you here for?”

"Uhh… Honestly I don't even know anymore. They didn't have what I needed, so I just started to aimlessly slither around the store. And then I found you."

"Aimlessly wandering around Target can be dangerous," you chuckle.

"I haven't learned my lesson apparently," he gives you a lopsided smile, "last time it happened I came home with a pillow that had some motivational quote.”

“Yikes,” you laugh and put one of the curtains back onto it’s metal hook.

“Yikes indeed,” he crosses his arms over his chest as he looks at the options before him. “So, do you have any style in mind.”

“Santiago, you don’t need to help me.”

“I fear if I don’t help you, you’ll be stuck in the store until it closes,” he teases with a wink.

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks, “alright fine. My house is pueblo style, built in the seventies. The bathroom was recently remodeled before they sold it, so the walls are plain, it has normal wood, and laminate tiles that look like travertine. It’s very boring.”

“So you need something to spice it up?”

“Exactly,” you pick up a geometric patterned one, looking at the picture on the cardboard.

Santiago shakes his head, "nope", he takes it out of your hand and puts it back. You look at him dumbfounded by how brash he was. He puts another one in your hands, “this one looks like you.”

You look down at the curtains, it was a simple floral. But with the way the bright flowers were stylized like they were from an Alfredo Ramos Martinez painting. “This is cute.”

“You look like a floral person.”

“How does one look like a floral person, without being an actual nymph?” He shrugs and you simply roll your eyes, “you’re lucky I tolerate you.”

He winces, “just tolerate?”

“Well, I don’t know you that well…”

“Then let's get to know each other,” his posture straightens. “Why don’t we go out for a coffee someday, as a date?” You must’ve stared at him like he grew another head because he immediately fell back on his statement, “or not a date?”

“No… A date is fine.”

“Is it?”

“Definitely.”

“Then why are you still looking at me like that?”

Your face instantly turns a scarlet color, “I… It's been awhile since I’ve been on a date. So, the fact that you are asking me on a date, in a Target, is mind boggling.”

“Do you want me to ask you outside the Target?”

“That’s not the point,” you sigh, trying to steady your breathing. “So, a date?”

Santiago smirks, “give me your phone.” You scowl and he shrinks at your stern gaze, “por favor?” Reluctantly you unlock and hand him your phone, watching as he makes himself a contact. “Text me when you get home, I should have a fantastic plan by then.”

“No coffee?”

“Nope, you deserve more than a coffee.” You flush again as he smiles victoriously, “I’ll let you get back to shopping so you can get home at a decent hour. Talk to you soon, cariño.” You watch as he slithers out of the aisle with a wave over his shoulder. You can’t help but stare, looking at the end of the aisle then back at the curtains in your hand. For some reason, the bright flowers just felt right. So, you put the package into your basket and head off to find the next item on your list. And you couldn’t wait until you got home.

#Naga X Reader #X Reader Miniseries #M Naga x F Reader #Exophilia #Terato #My Works #My Writing #Original Content #Monster X Reader

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theclockworkmonk · 3 years ago

Text

Now What?

Written for @kataang-week

Day 3: Missing Scene/Post-Canon

(I know it's late, sue me)

Words: 1,213

Read on AO3

Read on FF.net

Summary: With their quest completed, Katara has one more thing she has to do, while Aang truly doesn't know what to do

******

"Well I think you all look perfect!"

The sound of her friends laughing at Toph's joke faded as Katara wandered out onto the terrace, taking in the view of a peaceful, secure, liberated Ba Sing Se, and still feeling like it couldn't possibly be real. But it was real. The world was a better place now than it had been in a hundred years, and the whole world was breathing a collective sigh of relief.

But her eyes didn't focus on the city below her, but instead on the one person who deserved this peace more than anyone. Aang was standing at the railing at the edge of the terrace, and although his back was to her, she could tell by his body language that he was more relaxed now than she had seen him in a very long time, possibly since that first penguin-sledding trip they took, before he found out about the war.

Katara could only think of one thing that Aang would still have to feel anxious about, and she blushed and smiled when she thought about it. Another thing that came with this newfound peace was the mental clarity to see that her feelings for Aang had been obvious all along, and how silly she was being by pretending otherwise. She wasn't even stressed about whether he was still interested. He was the most forgiving person she knew, he wouldn't hold it against her that she had gone so long without giving him a straight answer.

There was nothing left to do now but tell him.

With her heart fluttering with excitement, she took a deep breath and walked toward the edge of the terrace. As she joined him at the railing by his side, her shy smile fell from her face when she saw his expression. He looked calm, as she saw from behind him, but his face also showed signs of sadness of all things. He was looking out over the vast city with his brow furrowed, seeming to be deep in contemplation.

"Aang?" Katara asked gently.

He didn't jump, surely having sensed her footsteps as she approached him. He turned his head slightly to look her in the eye and gave a weak smile.

"Sounds like Sokka's artistic skills haven't improved?" Aang asked.

She wasn't fooled. "Aang, is something wrong?"

"No," he stated plainly, shaking his head and looking back to the view. "Nothing is wrong. Nothing's wrong at all. Well, I"m sure something's wrong, somewhere, but nothing that requires a world-saving adventure by a ragtag group of kids."

When he paused again, Katara scooted closer to him and gently nudged him with her elbow. "Sooooo?"

"So," Aang shrugged. "Now what?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do we do now?"

Katara laughed. She laughed harder than she had in weeks, leaning against Aang's shoulder to support herself. "Aang, we'll do whatever we want. We don't have to run, hide, or fight anymore, the whole world is open to us!" She gestured out to the sprawling city, which was as wide and full of possibilities as their future.

"Well yeah, that'll be fun for a while," Aang admitted, "but sooner or later, we're all going to settle into some kind of normal, and….well, we're a bunch of kids from all over the world. The war brought us together, and now that it's over….."

He traced circles on the dust on the railing, pointedly looking anywhere but her face.

"Contrary to what Toph says, leaving her parents was hard, and she misses them terribly. Zuko has a nation to rule and reform. Suki only left Kyoshi to fight, so she'll probably be going back, and you and Sokka—"

His voice caught in his throat and he swallowed hard. "You've been away from your home for so long and you just got your dad back but I can't go back to the South Pole with you because I'm needed here and I don't want to pressure you but I am really going to miss you—the two of you I mean—"

"Aang," Katara said sharply, cutting off his rambling. It made her heart ache to hear him talk like that. Since he was such a warm, loving person, and he was surrounded by people who loved him, Katara often forgot just how lonely Aang still was. For her, the end of the war meant the safety of her nation and the reunion of her family. But Aang had no nation, and he had no family besides the one that had found him in that iceberg.

"Aang," she said again, more gently this time. She cupped his jaw and turned his face to look her in the eyes, and his eyes widened and he blushed adorably. "You're right, I'm happy that my home is safe, and I miss it, but don't you dare imply that I would leave you to deal with the world on your own. My home will always be there, waiting for me. My family will be with me for years to come. You gave that to me. I'm not going anywhere until you can come with me."

Aang sighed. "You don't have to—"

"And don't think that I'm doing this as some great sacrifice or that you're a burden, either," she cut him off again, "rest assured, I'm being selfish. Aang, I grew up on an isolated lump of ice. Before you showed up, I had met just a couple dozen people over my entire life. You really think I'm ready to go back home and fish?"

She looked back out at the distant view again, bouncing with excitement. "I can see the whole world now, without the Fire Nation, or the Dai Li, or the looming threat of a comet approaching. There's a million things I can do….and I'm free to do it with whoever I want to be with."

She gave a shy smile and took his hand in hers. His breath hitched as she traced small circles over it with her thumb. "I can even maybe...let myself have something that I've wanted, but was so afraid of losing that I denied it to myself, even though I can now see what a mistake that was."

She lifted her gaze from their entwined hands up to his eyes and smiled at the rising joy she saw there. His face split into a wide grin to match her own and soon they were both giggling furiously.

"Really?" he asked softly, his voice full of wonder.

She nodded. "Like you said, we're not on an adventure anymore, so my schedule is open for a new one. If you're up for it."

He started nodding so hard he threatened to pull a muscle, so she stopped him by leaning forward and pressed her lips to his. She thought that she was prepared for it, this technically being their fourth kiss, but she felt lightheaded, went weak in the knees and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to steady herself.

They spent several long moments like that, smiling into their kiss, before pulling apart. Katara didn't look back at the spectacular view, instead she stayed focused on the gray eyes of the boy in front of her. That was where she saw her future.

*******

Don't know if this counts as a "missing" scene, exactly, but this is one I had planned on for a while. I'm one of the many people that's always felt like some dialogue should have happened in that final scene, to actually explain why Katara's feelings do a complete 180.

#kataang #kataang week #kataang week 2021 #kataang-week #aang x katara #katara and aang #aang #avatar aang #katara #atla fanfic #fanfic prompt #kataang fanfic #ao3 fanfic #atla #avatar: tla #avatar the last airbender #avatar #Day 3: missing scene

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capcarolsdanver · 4 years ago

Text

Why Her? (Part 1)

Summary: This fic is based off a request from an anon after some speculations that have been made on my blog.

Brie enlists the help of the reader to get a date with a girl that reader knows from class, only for unexpected feelings to be caught. Drama/angst/fluff to come! Pairing: Brie x Reader A/N: Oops accidentally took another way too long break from posting. I was still writing during this time, trying to structure some kind of schedule, but every time I reread my writing I always end up wanting to rewrite most of what I have, which is exactly what happened with this one. This is part 1 of 4, more of an intro than anything. Part 2 coming very soon!

As always, feedback is always appreciated so please let me know what you think, or even any suggestions you have for future parts! It is all written but I’m open to making some adjustments if people have any good ideas to bring to the story!

Please do not repost my writing anywhere without my permission.

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

You take another generous sip from the coffee cup in your hands, practically cradling it as if it’s your most prized possession. Although, that’s what you would be inclined to referred to it as in this moment. You relied on coffee during most of your days at the best of times, but even more so while you’re nursing a hangover like the one you currently have.

You groan quietly to yourself when you realise you’ve reached the last drop of your precious caffeinated drink, placing the cup on the table in front of you and dropping your head into your arms in probably the most dramatic fashion you can muster.

You vaguely acknowledge the sound of footsteps getting louder as they approach you but you quickly dismiss them as yet another student walking passed your table in the campus library and choose to ignore in favour continuing to feel sorry for yourself. You take note to never sit at one of the tables closest to the entrance again. Foot traffic has quickly become your least favourite thing.

It suddenly occurs to you that you can no longer hear the footsteps. How long had you been zoned out for? Surely whoever the footsteps belong to couldn’t have already passed you without any other sound.

“Hey Y/N, how’s it going?”

The voice beside you isn’t over the top loud or anything, but it still doesn’t stop you from jumping in your seat, your head springing up. You instantly wince, warily bringing your fingers to your temples in a useless attempt to ease your pounding headache.

The girl standing by your table, Sarah, scrunches her features in apology.

“Sorry,” she sheepishly apologises. “I did see you at the party last night. Didn’t think you were much of a drinker, though.”

“I’m usually not, especially when I have class the next morning,” you grumble. “Last night was a mistake that will never happen again.”

Sarah laughs quietly, clearly trying to be mindful of your current state. “I figured I’d find you here this morning. I just have one question about class and then I promise I’ll leave you in peace and quiet again.”

“Shoot,” you say in as pleasant a tone as you can manage, deciding to spare her from your complaints about how not at all quiet the library of all places has proven to be so far that morning.

Sarah smiles a grateful smile and sits opposite you before asking a question about some paper you had received in your shared class the previous day. You can barely comprehend what she’s asking you but you answer as best as you can, which seems to be enough because Sarah is again smiling brightly and standing from her seat.

“Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

“How about telling me how the hell you avoid getting a hangover. I saw you last night too. I swear you drank more than everybody else combined.”

Sarah chuckles and turns to leave. “Call it talent,” she says, waving over her shoulder as she retreats.

You wave back and watch her leave.

You wouldn’t necessarily call the two of you “friends”, but you and Sarah share an English class together and you seem to find yourself at the same get togethers and parties frequently, and had always gotten along well enough. You were sure if you actually took the time to hang out together you would probably be easy friends.

You take a heavy breath and release it when you realise you’re alone again, and just barely start feeling sorry for yourself again before a figure is slumping into the chair next to you with absolutely no consideration to your clearly less than ideal state.

You jump even more than when Sarah had startled you and your hand flies to your heart.

“Oh my god!” you exclaim. Your body was so not prepared for these kinds of interactions today.

“Sorry,” the girl says, kindly enough but with much less sincerity than Sarah. You don’t recognise her and you look at her with wide eyes, trying to figure out who she is.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, actually,” she says, apparently missing the bite in your tone, or just choosing to ignore it. “That girl you were just talking to. You’re friends with her, right?”

You instinctively look in the direction of the main entrance, where Sarah had disappeared through just moments go.

“Uh, kinda?” You reply, unsure. “I guess. I mean, we have a class together but-“ you interrupt yourself, remembering that you have no idea who this stranger is or what she wants. “I’m sorry, what exactly do you want from me?”

“I was wondering if you could help me get a date with her.” She says it so matter-of-factly that she doesn’t seem to recognise how entirely strange her words are. All you can do is blink at her in response.

“Excuse me?”

You have never actually considered that Sarah could be interested in women. Sure, she was an attractive girl and she was always nothing but friendly to you, but for whatever reason you just weren’t interested in her in that way. And now that you think about it, you’ve never actually seen her with anyone else, not even at any of the parties you’d attended.

The girl in front of you, however, obviously had considered it, and had somehow come to the conclusion that Sarah was interested in dating women.

“Do you even know her?” You ask.

“Not at all. Why do you think I’m asking for your help?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?” You have to admit that you’re still confused by her request. She seemed confident enough coming here to talk to you. So why would she need any help talking to Sarah?

“Oh, I’m like, notoriously bad at talking to women I’m interested in,” she easily explains. “I can’t flirt for the life of me and I’m way too awkward to try to convince a girl that she definitely wants to leave a party with me.”

You’re left without a response once more, blinking at the girl as she offers you a half smile and watches you. After a long moment, she seems to remember something, sitting up straighter to regard you again.

“Oh! I’m Brie by the way!” She holds out her hand towards you and you drop your eyes to stare at it for a moment, your hungover brain working at half speed before you realise she’s offering to shake your hand.

Your hand grips hers weakly and she shakes it with her own. Her handshake is firm yet gentle, though you don’t really know what to look for in a good handshake. Brie seems to hold back a laugh at the awkwardness of the situation.

“And you are…?” She regards you with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh! I’m Y/N.” You shake your head as if you were clearing the fog inside of it. “Sorry. It’s been a bit of a rough morning.” You force a chuckle. She squints her eyes at you for a moment before a look of recognition flashes across her face.

“Ah, I thought I recognised you. You were at that party last night, right?”

You look at her in surprise. Usually, no one ever seems to recognise or remember you from any of the parties you attend. You’d always been a loner to some level. Not totally socially inept but enough so that you generally flew under the radar quite easily.

You nod. “I’m sorry but I don’t remember seeing you there.”

“Yeah, by the time I showed up you seemed pretty plastered,” she chuckles and your cheeks immediately flush. You hadn’t meant to drink so much the previous night, but what started out as a couple of drinks had very quickly multiplied the more you had allowed yourself to wallow in your own self pity. You uncharacteristically had let the fact that you were at yet another party alone get to you.

Brie seems to notice your discomfort because she thankfully has the decency to move the conversation on fairly quickly.

“So, you think you can help me?”

You’d completely forgotten the reason why she had even started talking to you in the first place, but your brain eventually catches up and your eyebrows lift when you remember her request.

“Oh. Um…”

“Okay, listen,” Brie interrupts, watching you with amusement in her eyes. “I’ve gotta go. But if you decide you might want to help me, here’s my number.”

She grabs the notebook that you forgot you even had open in front of you and slides it across the table towards herself. She quickly scribbles her phone number in the corner of the open page and slides the notebook back towards you.

Brie stands up, considering you for a moment before she reaches into her bag that’s slung over her shoulder. You’re still several steps behind, looking down at the set of numbers she had written in your notebook, when she drops two aspirins in front of you. You startle, looking up at her and finding her smirking down at you.

“Take these, they’ll make you feel better. And maybe they'll convince you to help me, too,” she says, barely giving you a second to respond before she, too, is leaving you alone at the table.

You sit in stunned silence for a few moments until your eyes drift towards the large clock on the wall opposite you and you catch sight of the time. If you don’t leave now, you’ll definitely be late for your first class of the day. You half consider your options, wondering how much you’d really miss if you just skipped one class in favour of going back to your dorm to nap.

Eventually you let out a deep sigh and stand up, knowing you’ll just end up beating yourself up later if you let yourself miss a class because of your poor choices from the previous night. You quickly throw your belonging into your book bag, only pausing to look at the two aspirins Brie had left for you. You pick them up and quickly swallow them down with a gulp of water from your water bottle before you’re rushing out of the library doors and towards your class.

#brie larson x reader #brie larson fic #brie larson imagine #captain marvel #mcu imagine #brie larson #mine #fic

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chicoriii · 4 years ago

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Season 4, Episode 2 - Mensonge (Lies)

Welcome again. I had been logged out from Tumblr for the whole weekend, because I was afraid of untagged spoilers, as I've seen one screenshot here accidentally, fortunately it wasn't spoilerish. And I've watched the Lies today. Again without reading other's people opinion about the episode, so I probably write things that have been said before.

I enjoyed it more than Truth. But not because it's better written, I think the overall quality of both is similar. Lies is about characters I care about more, so it's natural that the episode is automatically more interesting to me. I dislike both Luka and Jagged (to be fair the only member of the Couffaine family I like is Juleka) and that would be hard to make me caring about them, the best thing I could say about any of those characters is that I tolerate them on screen. Sometimes. Don't get me wrong, Truth was the best episode for Luka and Jagged, but they are still dull and/or annoying to me. Creators need to develop son-father relationship more to make me interested in it, that arc was too shallow in Truth.

But the post is about Adrigami episode, not Lukanette one.

I'm surprised that we got only one not very long scene with civilian Marinette. But not surprised that she's still pining over Adrien. Just like Chat is pining over Ladybug. As I'm keeping saying, it's not gonna change. But really, Marinette thinks that Adrien's life is perfect? She should know that tight schedule could be a big problem and has she forgotten what terrible father is Gabriel? Of course she doesn't know details we know, but she should be aware that he isn't as good parent like her own. So probably her enamored brain can't see bad sides of life of her loved one. She still can't think rational when it comes to him. Another reason why she should stop putting him on a pedestal. We need some friendly Adrienette so badly, we need to see Adrien telling her more bad things in his life. He isn't used to complain, but I think he needs to tell someone the truth about his family life. I hope Marinette will be that person.

I had been tired of clown Chat in Truth, but this episode lets us to see the situation from his point of view and now I understand more why he behaves like that. I think that he tries to hide from Ladybug how much he miss spending time with her that way. He is aware that's because of her new responsibility and he doesn't want to make her feel bad for it. Those scenes were so sweet. How much Chat wants an Akuma to appear just to see his lady. Not very noble, but I can't blame him. It only shows that Adrien is a normal human being. We all are selfish from time to time and it's healthy (you only have to find a good balance, being as selfish as Chloé and as selfless as Luka is not good).

Geez, why they can't put the right title of the piece? That's a different composition than that one used back in season 2, but the smartphone's screen says the same. And none of them is actually Raindrop Prelude. This is Raindrop Prelude. They are not even any of Chopin's preludes. I won't be surprised if both are not Fryderyk Chopin's compositions either (although I haven't heard all the solo piano pieces composed by him, so I can't be sure). I love classical music, so I'd love to know what pieces Adrien's playing! By the way, I recommend to listen to all of the 24 preludes, they are usually very short but interesting compositions. If you're too lazy to listen to all, check out number 20 at least, that's a pure, very atmospheric, beauty. One of my favourites melodies ever created.

I have always thought that Adrigami has more chemistry and it's generally more entertaining to watch than Lukanette (sorry stans, but you probably don't even follow me and read my posts, there's a reason why I'm warning that my blog is not Luka and Lukanette friendly in its description). I feel that in this episode as well. Absolutely it's not a perfect relationship and it can't be, as Adrien is still into Ladybug. It's clear that Kagami is the one who really cares, Adrien is more distant. It seems that he's abashed of Kagami's physical intimacy, like he can't be open to her when he's still in love with Ladybug. That was really sad to hear Kagami's words that she's lying to be more often with him and he lies to not spend time with her. But relationship can't work if only one side is invested in it and they both need to learn it. They have some things in common, I like how they spending time together, so I'm sure they would work much better as friends. I'm sorry for Kagami and I wish her a better boyfriend who would love her truly. In some way it was a repeat of Truth, as we've seen Adrien leaving Kagami all of sudden, because of Akuma's attacks, but this time it's not as heavily portrayed like it's not working only because of superhero responsibility, that I didn't like in the previous episode. Another reason why I liked how Adrigami is shown more.

I really, really loved that we've learnt something new about Kagami and that's amazing it's something I have in common with her. I'm really surprised, since she didn't seem to have an artistic soul before. I also love seeing she likes draw animals, it's like me, I'm trying practise it. I enjoy drawing animals (and creatures like Kwamis or Pokémon) more than humans. But at the same time I feel angry at her mother. How could she dare to say that Kagami isn't good enough? Trying to kill a child's hobby is always unforgivable. She's much better than me (I'm a little jealous, but that's not the first time when a teen has much better skill than me), but my family and some others I know in real life often say that I'm talented and some people try to convince me to take pay commissions. That’s me who knows the best than I'm not skilled enough to take money for my art (they don't know really good artists in person and they don’t draw themselves, so no wonder they are not aware that my works aren't that good they think). Maybe some day, but not now, so I only enjoy drawing gifts for others. I'm also got interested in a real French artist she mentioned - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec and I've seen some of his works. Very good for Miraculous for mentioning artist like him, I have never heard about him before, but maybe French students learn about him in school.

Seeing Adrien making Chat's pose was hilarious. I'm sure it's food for true selves trope supporters, but I also agree with Kagami that both model poses and Chat's poses are not ALL Adrien poses. He's more than that. That seemed like he has problems with being natural when he's on the pressure. He's learned how to make model poses, but I also think that when he is in full clown mode is also an act. But that's a mask which he has putted all by himself. In which he tries to be as much different than his public image as he can. Of course being dorky is also a true Adrien side, but not all the time. Being just a cute and polite boy is also true him. It seems that Adrien is not aware of it.

Marinette's lucky charm bracelet is an akumatised object once more. That and the fact she was asking him what he was doing on the boat tell us that Kagami probably think that Adrien is in love with Marinette (it could make also her wonder what stop them from being together if she knows that Marinette likes him as well).

I also liked her reaction to imminent breaking up more. It's more human reaction in my opinion. Some anger, but not too much. She says she doesn't want to see him for a while and that's completely understandable. Adrien has broken her heart, so she need some time to take care of herself without being interrupted by him. I'm going to say something that could be seen controversial, but in my opinion her attitude is way more healthy than Luka's. He still waits for a girl who clearly likes another boy much, but she's trying to really give up on him. And I would like to see a scene in which she says him that Marinette is not worth his waiting, he should be open for another love instead. Uff, I was really worried that they might kill Adrien and Kagami characters. But nothing really bad happened in the episode between them, everything was in-character. Of course salters will still find reasons to hate Kagami, they can say she's possessive towards him (that's true to some extent, but I think it's not really toxic, as she's still cares about his true feelings).

I need to say that Lies is the worst S4 Akuma design we've seen till now. Riposte and Oni-chan were much better. Also the battle was the worst part of this episode in my opinion. It wasn't completely bad, but it felt somewhat boring to me. I definitely enjoyed fights against Truth and Furious Fu more. The thing about that I liked the most what how they made use of Fang.

So the season 4 version of Chat Noir's transformation theme is exactly the same they used in the Shanghai special. It wasn't obvious, since Ladybug's one is a different one than that in the show. I noticed that that Ladybug's theme feels more like a new composition which only uses parts of an original version, while Chat's is clearly "just" an arrangement of the theme we know since season 1. Maybe that's because it's supposed to symbolise that she has even more responsibility now, as she's the Guardian as well. Chat's role hasn't changed that much as hers. I also think the new arrangement sounds cooler, it's more electric guitar-driven. I can't wait to get any of the episodes in which there's his transformation sequence with 5.1 audio to rip it.

All three released episodes are nice for Ladynoir a lot, their scenes are all sweet and wholesome. It almost feel like Ladynoir is close to happen. But I feel that's just calm before the storm. Marinette hasn't reached to her worst moment yet. I'm sure Ladybug will have more breakdowns like that in the season 3 finale.

Three episodes aired and I'm not amazed by any of them. But I don't want to be salty, I'm not worried about that. That's true for season 3 as well, I enjoy the second part of the season more as well. It's important to save the best episodes for later. And I have never expected that I would love all the S4 episodes, despite of pre-release statements, it's impossible. I'm not disappointed. Yet. Just give me some Adrienette food. Please.

#miraculous ladybug #ml lies #ml season 4 #ml season 4 spoilers #ml spoilers #ml spoiler #chicoriii about S4 episodes #chicoriii #original post

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