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goldryush · 3 years ago

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⌗ dreamies as your classmates

w.c. : 2.1k

warnings : language!!

ib : a midsummer night dream(like literally and not the Shakespeare drama) ++ @njmverse feeding my delusional head

Hyuck - the neighbourhood bestie that you walk to school and back home with. Seems like the kind of guy who never pays attention in class but is actually really good at studies. Either the teachers love him or hate him, there's no in-between. Gets called up to solve problems on board because the teachers are either like, "Oh he never pays attention, let's see how much he really knows" OR "Since no one else can do it, I know donghyuck can". Gamer guy who hates IT as a subject. Says java won't help him in his life(he's right). Is friends with everyone except that one person *cough* his academic rival *cough* but in the end he respects them because of "sportsmanship" (well he just envies them but you can't really say that out loud, right‽). The kind of guy who often forgets his pencil case back at home and borrows them from his seatmate. Is really intelligent but you wouldn't have guessed it had you joined during the mid session because he is always cracking jokes in between the lectures but you're glad because honestly, that's what keeps you up when the teacher is explaining the named reactions on the board. He is that one kid who cheers for his friends even when they're called upon to give a viva exam, just hyping everyone up in general. He skips school but still manages to get all the tea(he has his sources). Sometimes even sells the tea to jeno in return for jeno buying him his favorite snack after school.

Jaemin - Always has extra pens/pencils just in case his seatmate forgets theirs at home (like they always do). The kind of guy who would give you the middle page of the notebook in case you run out of pages OR you need it for a class test(might even keep an extra notebook to take those middle pages from but shh!) He's just really nice for y'all. Pays extra attention during lectures even though his seatmate is loud as hell and keeps cracking jokes in between the lectures. Has never skipped school so he knows all the drama. Always has his notes organized so you know whom to ask for the notes of the classes you skipped. Is probably in the cooking/baking club. Brings extra test tubes on lab days and always wears his protective glasses, a lab coat and gloves in the lab. The one who delivers news during morning assembly and he loves his job. Always keeps this mini book of thoughts that Mark gifted him on his birthday and is the one you should go to when you don't have your "thought of the day" prepared. Speaking of Mark, Mark is his debate buddy and he gets extra aggressive while debating. This one-time jaemin started a whole another debate with mark just because mark said that the earth is flat (p.s - hyuck dared him to!!). He is the kind of guy who always seeks a logical or scientific explanation for everything (shooting stars are nothing but a ball of gases for him). The kind of guy who always brings lunch and always packs extra in case someone doesn't brings their *cough* jisung *cough*. On days where you don't have to come to school in the uniform, Jaemin arrives that day, dressed up like he listens to the neighbourhood but actually has paper rings playing in his headphones <\3. Hates when it's his class' turn to pick up the trash but he doesn't like to see the monitors working alone so he helps.

Jisung - the (not so) SHY kid. ok lemme make it very clear, jisung is definitely that one kid with an innocent face but has never once been innocent and no he's NOT living his first life, my guy is just really genuinely curious about the nervous system of a plant (p.s: plants do NOT have a nervous system). Absolutely loathes public speaking and is somehow passing his speaking skill exams with somewhat okay-ish grades (let's be honest, speaking skills are a nightmare, I'm proud because at least he's not failing the class like me). Always the first one to be chosen in the dance team because he's really talented but people misinterpreted his love for being on stage as him being confident during public speaking and now when he is chosen as the one to lead the morning assembly the next day, he's already making plans to escape it. He wishes for it to rain the next day so they won't have an assembly in the first place OR if they don't have school because of heavy rain the next day, even better!! He even asked Jeno how he completes his notes when he skips school. To Jisung's luck, the next day is probably one of the brightest ones of the decade but he doesn't skip school because he's NOT a weakling >:(. He might stutter a little here and there but feels like he can achieve anything once he is done with the assembly. Teachers always complain about how he is the least talkative one among his classmates, to his parents but little do they know that this boy doesn't know how to shut up, he just has a very,,,very low volume. This one time he laughed at one of Hyuck's mid-lecture jokes in the classroom that was pin-drop silent, the teacher made him stand up for the entire period. Poor boy even stopped smiling in class ever since. Even the teachers from other classes were shocked when jisung got punished for laughing because they knew him as the quiet kid. He embodies 'this is me trying' by Taylor swift and relates to that song a little too much (just because of the public speaking class he takes). Loves chemistry and is probably Jaemin's lab partner because he's the only one who takes proper precautions while working in a lab(except Jaemin of course). When given the responsibility of carrying the teacher's diary, he gets all happy and cheerful that his teachers finally find him responsible enough to assign him a class duty but is scared shitless when he realizes that he forgot the class diary by the swimming pool. Jisung is that kind of guy who brings lunch money instead of actual lunch but don't worry, Jaemin always has an extra toast for Jisung and Jisung only.

Mark : Is probably the monitor of the class. You think he's kinda cute but you slap yourself back to reality with a "he's just doing his monitor duties". Super nice to everyone, everyone loves him and those who don't, they're just evil(like Chenle said). Teachers love him and they show their love by assigning him classroom duties. Mark is responsible for literally everything. Cleaning the board after every lecture, bringing in the chalks if there aren't enough chalks, collecting the notebooks for inspection day(yk the day where all the books and notebooks of all the students are checked whether they have their notes completed or not), you name it. Most of the class monitors stand in the front, he stands at the extreme back because he is #builtdifferent (jk, he just thinks that you have a better view of the entire class from the back). He is that one guy who is extra careful with everything else but doesn't know who took his pencil (p.s. it's hyuck). Can come up with "thought of the day" on spot but no one appoints him for this role :(. Is very passionate about the public speaking class, that's his favourite class after English literature. He thinks that it's his main character moment whenever it's his turn to speak(and he's right). Always aces the speaking skill exam. Uses a lot of filler words in between but still makes so much sense. He is very responsible, so much so that he was the one to pick up the class diary that jisung left by the pool. Tried out for basketball club but he missed the final shot(it was a bad day, he's actually good at basketball and plays it during games period) so he ended up joining the creative writing club, the one he always wanted to join <\3. Teachers often pick him for debates because whatever he says sounds convincing. Isn't interested in gossip but always somehow always ends up being the first one to know about them.

Renjun - He hates noise. That one time when Mark was absent and the whole class was being noisy, Renjun went up to the board, took the chalk and slid it against the board which made that screeching sound (that's painful to the ears yk) and everyone became dead silent. He's basically the unannounced class president. He gets distracted very easily and always ends up laughing at serious situations. Probably in the art club, he seems like an art kid(maybe because I've read so many fics where he's an artist but even if I didn't know him, I'd take him as the art kid, he just radiates that aura, you know?!). History and Political science are his second favourite subjects. Can't take and won't take teacher's bs, would call them out, might even complain about them to the principal ;-;. The kid who stands up against the wrong and preaches about how you shouldn't judge someone in the first place and then he continues to befriend people based on the artists they follow on Spotify(he's trying you guys!!). He is the guy who never takes the first seat and says that it's too near so he just sits on the second seat. Doesn't follows the seat rotation, saying he has bad eyesight and then on days when you have to sit in front of him, he will keep telling you to move your head because he can't see the board so this one time you just gave up and ducked but ended up hitting your head on the table instead (like Jinsoul did it in that one vlive). He would share everything except his sharpened wooden pencils because he's afraid someone might chew them off(tbh he's so right here♡).

Chenle - The kind to discuss soap opera plots in school and have a heated debate on the character development of the antagonist(with jaemin ofc ;-;). Loves astronomy (we've seen everything from Saturn to mars- I meant as in the subject astronomy?!!) Hence he is the only kid in class who loves geography as well when the entire class loathes that one subject. Snitches by reminding the teacher that they had homework due but only when he has done it, hates when anyone else snitches. Art class is a free period for him but can draw pretty decently and when he gets praised for his work, he probably says that there's still room for improvement OR he could've done better. If Jaemin is someone who takes every precaution while working in a lab, then chenle is someone who holds a test tube with his bare hands when he forgets to bring the holder(when he told the teacher about it, they said that it won't get too hot so he can just hold it with his bare hands :0 and he does). He definitely is in the music club and plays instruments and maybe he's in the school choir, you never know(so he can have his we've seen everything, from Saturn to Mars moment-).

Jeno : He probably skips school a lot because it's fun(or maybe he just has that one subject that he despises) but is always present in after school activity clubs. Pretty convinced that he does some kind of martial arts, can't really pinpoint one. Never misses the days when he has gym/game period. His notes are often incomplete and messy(only he can understand them) so now he hates inspection day(they don't even open all the notebooks so what really is the point of inspection ?). He's always laughing at Hyuck's jokes, so much that he thinks Hyuck is the class clown but in fact, jeno is the funny one, everyone loves him. You took it upon yourself to tell him that he's funny by telling him that Mark laughed so hard at one of his jokes that he almost spit out his juice but Jeno denied saying Mark laughs at everything. Probably plays games in the computer lab. He is the kind to turn in his homework and assignments at the last minute. You often find him doodling on desks or zoned out in between lectures but his books are always annotated with rough diagrams, that is, he loves to learn but he isn't really fond of the idea of listening to the teacher reading a book out loud for hours.

a/n : this was very very self indulgent so tyvm for reading ♡

Ⓒ goldryush (added this after i got 9 rbs so it might not appear in those rbs but this work is completely mine and i wrote this after squeezing my dream off of my brain so please don't steal or plagiarize my work ;-;)

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nakamoto-aesthetics · 4 years ago

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Guardian Angel | Johnny

synopsis: on the way from a friends house you bump into a man who was trying to harm you but luckily a guy named johnny saves you before you were taken. from there you get to know him a bit and things get… interesting. (the synopsis makes the story sound boing but i promise it’s not :)

pairing: johnny suh x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, a lil smut

warning: something similar to human trafficking in the beginning (if you’re sensitive to that topic please don’t read this fic), heavy make out shesh, not proofread!, other than that there’s nothing i can think of

a/n: also remember that this is a FIC and not real life, please don’t welcome strangers into your home :))

word count: 4.1k

“where do you think you’re going in that cute little dress baby?” an unfamiliar voice is heard as you walk down the fairly dark street. you don’t say anything and continue to walk not paying any attention to the voice. there was no one else really around, barely any cars passing by, let alone people.

“I asked you a question, I expect an answer” the tone was firm, his footsteps getting faster and so do yours. you hurriedly pull out your phone, quickly forming a plan that involved some of your friends but that all crashed and burned once you saw the dead battery flashing on the screen. your heart sink and tears instantly pooled in your eyes, threatening to fall from your eyes. that was your only escape, what were you gonna do now?

you were just trying to get home that was all. maybe you should’ve let your friend drive you home but you didn’t because you didn’t want to cause your friend an inconvenience. you were beginning to regret that decision, all because of that small reason. at least you would’ve been home safe and sound but no, you decided to be the unselfish and independent person you are, and look where it got you.

“hey!” a hand grips your shoulder from behind and swings you around. “I asked you a question when I ask a question I expect an answer” the guy wasn’t a foreigner, he was most definitely korean. he seemed to be in his mid-30s, the age definitely showed. there were creases and wrinkles in some areas of his face and his clothes were all black including his shoes. you try to pull away from the grip but he only grips your shoulder harder, hurting you more than you would like to admit.

“maybe I need to refresh your short memory,” the guy chuckles lowly, his finger shifting your head up to meet his eyes. “where are you going in that cute little dress?” his eyes looked you up and down, his free hand gliding down your waist, slowly traveling to your ass. your face stayed straight the entire time even while tears fell down your face. you knew who had the upper hand power in the situation, you knew there was little you could do even if you didn’t dare say it aloud.

“still not talking? well maybe I should force it out of you huh?” he tilts his head. no, because the whole time you were creating a plan b in your head since plan a failed. there was no way you were going to allow yourself to be trafficked.

“well then, you made this choice for yourself. i’m sorry to do this sweetheart” his hands grope your ass and that's when you strike. you move your leg up to kick him in the balls but he’s faster than you, grabbing ahold of your leg before it collided with his area.

“is that what you were doing this whole time, creating that wack-ass plan? you didn’t think i’d see it coming that’s so cute,” he fake coos. “i’ve been doing this longer than you, i’m smarter and faster than you love” he throws down your leg and in the blink of an eye, you are turned around in his grip with an arm around your neck. your hand flies to his arm and you pull on it, not wanting to be choked to death.

“is there a problem over here miss?” another unfamiliar voice calls, making both you and the guy look over to where it came from. it was a tall guy with light brown hair. he had tan skin and different pieces of clothing put together that oddly worked. his eyes were a soft brown, not too harsh. he was… kinda cute if you were being honest. he was also In the process of taking his headphones out of his ears, for what reason? you didn’t know.

“there’s no problem here, keep on walking buddy” the male answered for you.

“I asked the lady not you” the new stranger spoke harshly to the trafficker and look at you once again. “are you okay?” he knitted his eyebrows. your eyes caught his, filling with tears, threatening to spill from your eyes. he nodded softly understanding how you were feeling through your eyes. he then looked at the male behind you.

“let her go, I don’t wanna hurt you” he said firmly.

“oh yeah, what can you do?” he looks him up and down and laughs at the guy, walking back to his original place, which was a block or two away.

“Im can do a lot” the stranger walks in front of you and the guy, making you both stop once again.

“listen man, this is my girlfriend. we’re just having a little disagreement aren’t we honey?” the guy tightens his hold around your neck. you open your mouth trying to suck in more air but his hold gets tighter. you tap on his arm in hopes that he’ll release you but he doesn’t. there was no way you were gonna agree with him.

the stranger doesn’t think furthermore and before either of you knew it, your head was being moved out the way carefully and a punch was thrown at the guy's face. you heard a crack of a bone and quickly moved away from the area, running out the man's hold.

it was like an action movie, the man was the villain and the stranger was the hero, and you were the one in need of help. the fight ended with the stranger still standing and the man now on the floor. he wasn’t moving but his chest was still rising and falling. he wasn’t dead although you weren’t sure what was gonna happen in the next few minutes but you weren’t gonna find out either.

“are you okay?” the stranger rushes over to you, sliding off his jacket and handing it to you.

“that won’t be necessary” you chuckle and wave your hand at his jacket.

“please, I insist” he places the jacket around you, not wanted to make you feel uncomfortable by touching you.

“thank you” you look down and smile softly.

“it’s no problem, I could never just walk by if I saw something like that” he smiles gently. “do you want me to walk you home? you know, to make sure you get there safe?”

“uhh… why not” you smile and begin to walk in the direction, he comes up beside you and walks along with you.

you pulled his jacket closer to your body for warmth as you kept your eyes glued to the sidewalk, scarred by what had just happened. you’ve never experienced something that traumatic before. you could’ve been snatched up a while ago if it hadn’t been for the guy walking beside you right now.

“thank you” your voice was quiet in a way it had never been before.

“anytime” he glances over to you, seeing your small frame wrapped in his jacket.

“I really do mean it, if you wouldn’t have been there I don’t know what I would've done”

“yeah, i’m glad I was there too. it hurts me to see things like that happen” he shakes his head. “I wish I could protect everyone around the world,” he breathily laughs. “that’s probably why I want to be a police officer” your ears perked up when you heard that. you looked up at him with surprised eyes and he looked at you nodding his head.

“it’s always been a dream of mine ever since I was a kid. when I read my first comic book I loved everything about it, I knew I wanted to be some kind of hero after that. I wanted my parents to buy me every single superhero costume so then I could feel like that character, with all the powers and stuff.” you breathily laugh at that, he notices and laughs with you. “anyways that’s enough about me, I wanna know about you” he looks attentively to you.

the conversation continues until you got home. you learned that his name was johnny and that he was 25. he grew up in his hometown chicago but his parents are both korean, and he moved to seoul for better job opportunities. you gotta admit, the guy was interesting and you wanted to know more about him, you thought he was pretty cool.

“so… this is it?” johnny stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks up at the house.

“yep” you look at the house and back to him. it got quiet for a few seconds, neither of you wanted to say bye to each other. johnny wanted to get to know you more and you wanted to know him more also.

“listen, I don’t know if the feeling is mutual but I wanna talk to you some more so how about this, I give my number and you get to choose if you want to text me” he offers and you instantly take it up. he smiles softly and enters his number in your phone. once you receive it back you see the name option blank.

“you’re not gonna name yourself?” you cock your eyebrow at him and he lightheartedly chuckles.

“I want you to have free will and set it as whatever you want. I want you to always feel like you have a choice when you're with me y/n” a smile was blatant on his face, allowing the corners of your mouth to pull up also.

“well thank you very much johnny,” you say, staring into his eyes, which seemed to catch the light from the streetlights in a way you’d never seen before. would it be weird to say that you wanted to get to know the sweet guy in front of you more?

“um.. i guess i should get going, it was nice meeting you y/n” his hypnotizing but kind eyes still staring into your soul. you never wanted to part away from them, from him. johnny was captivating, too captivating to let slip through your fingers.

“it was nice meeting you too. see you later johnny” you dismiss him yet his feet don’t move, they stay in place and so does he, looking at you with eyes of fondness. this continues for about a minute before you break the silence/slight sexual tension.

“uh- actually, do you wanna come in? i’m not going to sleep right away, honestly might have some trouble falling asleep” you shake your head, looking down and pretend to find your nails interesting.

“a-are you sure? i wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable-” he seems caught off guard by your words, obviously snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

“not at all, now come on. i’ll put on a movie and get some food and drinks. it’ll be good” you smile brightly, grabbing his hand without thinking and taking him up to your front door. you unlock it quickly and turn on the lights, stepping into your clean house.

“this is a very nice environment you have y/n” he looks around staying still in his place, nodding his head, seeming genuinely impressed with it.

“thank you, it took a bit of work to get to this point” you chuckle, taking off your shoes and then his jacket. “oh, here you go” you hold the piece of heavy fabric out to him. he utters a ‘thanks’ once he sees it and takes it.

“you can put your shoes there” you point to the shoe rack beside to door. “and your jacket can go there” you point to the coat racket right next to the shoe rack. he doesn’t say anything and does as you say.

“now make yourself comfortable i’ll be right back” you point to the couch and then walk away but not before you caught his eyes. damn those eyes..

“now why did she do that? i swear horror movie characters are so fucking dumb” you roll your eyes and johnny laughs, agreeing with you.

“i mean what would you do in her position” you look at him. the light from the tv illuminating him perfectly. it was dark everywhere else so the only light you had was from the tv.

“i would’ve saved the friend and then booked it not stand there like an idiot waiting for someone to kill me” he looked at you right back, giving you that same look from earlier but his eyes were a bit brighter, filled with joy.

“exactly! so why can’t she do the same?” you sigh.

“y/n it’s just a movie” he chuckles.

“i know, i know but they really irritate me yk? like why stand there knowing damn well a killer is in the house with you i mean it’s-“

“alright it’s time to turn this off” he backs out of the movie, returning to the netflix screen where you started.

“hey!” you look at him with confused eyes.

“you were way too into it, it‘s not good for your blood pressure.” he says and looks at the tv, going through the comedy section.

you kept your eyes on him watching the way his eyes watch the screen attentively. you nibble on your lip, beginning to get lost in your thoughts. he could be your friend, best friend, boyfriend... husband- too far y/n, too far. you just met the guy but you felt like you’ve known him for a long time. you could see him being a potential boyfriend honestly. it’s been a while since you’ve had a boyfriend, really only focused on work. it wouldn’t be a bad idea. johnny seemed nice and he was interesting in a way nobody has been before, you could stay up talking to him and it wouldn’t get boring ever. what if you guys-

“y/n?” his head turns toward you and he catches you staring back at him with your lip between your teeth. he smiles softly and that’s when you are dragged out of your thoughts.

“here” you say out of nowhere making johnny laugh harder than before, his head is thrown back and his eyes are closed, filling the atmosphere with his beautiful laughs. meanwhile, you sat there a little confused and startled, blinking multiple times.

“huh?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“nothing” he waves his hands continuing to laugh.

“yah!” you hit his arm playfully. “i was lost in my thoughts im sorry” you look down feeling your cheeks heat up.

“while staring at me? what were you thinking about?” he says after his laughter dies down.

“uh.. nothing important, what did you pick?” you look at the tv trying to change the subject and you’re thankful that it works.

“that was a great movie, what’d you think?” johnny looks over to you and you nod tiredly, letting out a yawn. “oh somebody’s tired” he says and you don’t know if it was because you were tired but you thought it was cute.

“i enjoyed it and yes i am tired” you lazily chuckle and rub your face.

“alright, i’ll leave-“ he goes to stand up.

“no-“ you say abruptly and grab his wrist and his eyes shift down to your hold on him. “i mean… no you don’t have to, it’s late and i don’t want you going home at this time of night” you checked your phone with your free hand, completely forgetting about your grip on his wrist.

‘4:08 am’

“damn it’s four already?” your eyes bulge out your head and look up at him, his eyes still watching the way your skin was touching his. “you mister aren’t going anywhere, wouldn’t want anything to happen to you” you move closer to him and he notices this. you take your hand off his wrist and interlock your arms, resting your head on his shoulder. maybe it was the sleepiness that put you in this position but you didn’t mind it one bit, too tired to care.

he seemed surprised tensing up almost immediately but relaxing once he realized what was really happening. you were like the little bear that found comfort in the big bear. johnny brushed the extra pieces of hair out the way, how was it that he’d just met you but he felt so connected to you as if you were a lifelong friend he hadn’t seen in a long time. he didn’t under but at the same time, he didn’t want to understand it. he’d rather just let whatever this was flow at its own pace.

“do you think we’re moving too fast?” you say out of nowhere, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“i was just thinking about that and i think we should just let it happen naturally. whatever happens, happens” he says in a sweet voice and caresses your arm gently with his free hand. “if it feels right then act on it right? anyways, that’s the motto”

you move your head to look up at him and nod, intending to catch his eyes and you do. you’re only inches away from each other’s faces, eyes shifting from his eyes to his lips and so do his before either of you knew it your lips collided. johnny holding your jaw between his index and thumb. you wrap your hands around his neck and sit up slowly shifting onto his lap. your heart began to race as you kissed him deeper, johnny too, feeling his heart pumping with adrenaline, moving his hands down to your waist and gripping it. you moan softly against his lips as his hands travel inside your shirt. he felt like pure ecstasy against you. his touch, his lips, his words, everything him felt so good with you.

his hands then slid down to your hips and he gripped them, continuing to kiss you like no tomorrow. he pulls away from your lips, you following his lips for more, and he chuckles; before you knew it his lips were on your neck, pressing soft kisses to it making you moan softly. when his lips found your sweet spot he attacked it, leaving a dark red hickey in that place. you began to move your hips against his, hungry for some type of stimulation down there. his hands fly to your hips and he rests his head in the crook of your neck, letting out soft grunts.

you bite your lip and pull him up to kiss his neck, one of his hands rest on your shoulder. once you find his sweet spot you do as he did and leave a dark red hickey. you pull back and look at it proudly.

“an eye for an eye” you wink at him.

“yeah, yeah” he smiles and pulls your face closer, kissing you again, this time using a bit of tongue. you moan instantly, letting him win and he explores your mouth as your hands glide down his chest, you could feel all of the contours and lines of his muscles and abs, letting you know he was fit. which only made him sexier. your hands slip under his shirt and you explore the area. he was too hot for you to handle, you could pounce on him again even though you kind of already pounced on him. he’s just too hot.

you pulled away abruptly and he looked at you with a confused expression. you smirked and stood up, him still looking at you, obviously confused. he reached for your wrist but you pulled it away and before he could say anything, with the help of his thighs you got on your knees. his confused expression was now gone as he watched the scene unfold, his jeans were so tight against him and you knew that. his hard-on wasn’t small either, it was actually pretty big, you could still see his print though it was dark and you wanted to help him out so you teased him by gliding your fingers up his thighs and then teased his dick by running your finger up and down his hard-on.

“stop t-teasing” he breathily moans, watching your every move.

you smirked, looking up at him and unzipped his jeans.

did you guys fuck? no. just oral sex, that was all you guys agreed to. johnny thought it would be a bad idea to have sex during the initial meet. he said it would be best to give it at least a few weeks. he truly did wanna get to know you some more as did you and that’s why you were okay with not going that far.

you slept in your room after you guys were done giving each other head. you’d given him a blanket to sleep with and a comfortable pillow instead of making him use one of the uncomfortable decor ones on your couch.

“thank you johnny,” you said as he grabbed his coat. you let him stay for breakfast, that you and him cooked together. (he wasn’t going to let you cook it by yourself)

“for what? i should be thanking you. i had fun” he says as he puts his coat on.

“because i had fun too. the most i’ve had in a long time so thank you for that”

“it’s nothing really, i’m glad i could reflect some light on” he laughs and slips his shoes on.

“i hope we could do that again” you hint your fondness toward him.

“of course we can you just gotta let me know. i’m always free” he looks at you with that look once again and you can’t help but let it slip out.

“why do you keep looking at me like that, you’ve been giving me the same look since you met me” you say softly so then it doesn’t one out harsh and you know it doesn’t when he responds.

“because...” he moves closer to you which makes your heart skip a beat. “i actually like you y/n, and i mean it. you’re so different from other girls i’ve met. i’m not just another handsome guy to you. you take an interest in the things i say and the stories i tell you, not many girls do and i thank you for that alone. thank you for listening to me.” he moves even closer to you, grabbing your hands which makes your heart begin to race. “so when i look at you like this, i’m thanking you.” he doesn’t say anything after that continuing to stare deeply into your eyes.

you felt so drunk in the moment, hypnotized by his eyes and soft words. you could already feel how head over heels you were gonna be for this guy, that's if you guys kept it up, which you think you will. the chemistry was way too strong for either of you to let go of.

“thank you” you whisper and he nods gently not breaking eye contact. “you should get going, i wouldn’t want you to be late for work. you still gotta get home in time to change out of these clothes... do you need a ride or?”

“kind of... only if it’s not too much trouble” he answers.

“of course it’s not, come on” you quickly get your stuff on and take him home.

“this is it” he says and you stop the car once you’re in front of the house.

“okay, i’ll see you later” you look over to him and he’s already looking at you. nothing happens for a few seconds but then johnny leans over to you and kisses you. you sigh into the kiss and grab ahold of his neck and kiss him back as his hand rests on your neck, he kisses you just as deep as last night but before anything serious happens he pulls away and lets a ‘text me’ roll of his tongue before he exits the vehicle and walks to his front door, unlocking it and walking inside. all without looking back.

you however, were in complete awe. he kissed you like that and then left. damn was he a good kisser, you could still feel the sensation of his lips on yours even after he was gone. you touched your lips and then smiled, pulling off.

bonus: later that day; the evening

you decide to pick up your phone and do exactly what he said earlier.

you: what was that all about earlier? - y/n

johnny🥰😫: so you decided to finally text me😊

johnny🥰😫: and what was what about👀

you: you know what i talking about. the kiss in the car

johnny🥰😫: you know, it was just a see you later kiss

you: mhm, okay mr. suh

johnny🥰😫: what?😂

you: imma give your ass a ‘see you later’ kiss and then walk away. see how it makes you feel

johnny🥰😫: bring it on then sexy, let’s see what you got

you: oh i’ll show you what i got👀

johnny🥰😫: are we still talking about kissing?😳

you: maybe, maybe not🤷‍♀️👀

NCT Masterlist

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alisonsfics · 4 years ago

Text

If We Started Dating

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader

Summary: Y/N normally sits alone on the jet rides home, but this time Morgan invites her to sit with him

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: Y/N experiences a lot of guilt and blames herself for how the case ended. Derek comforts her and assures her it was not her fault.

Normally on the jet rides home, you would sit by yourself. It was just the way that you were able to process each case. You would sit and listen to music or read a book. But you never sat with the rest of the team. It was your time that you set aside to just relax and think.

The rest of the team had seemed to notice this, and never questioned it. They knew everyone coped in different ways.

However, this case wasn’t like any case the team had ever helped on. This case had a terrible ending, and it had ended bad because the team had made some bad decisions.

So especially now, you were sitting alone on the jet. You were looking out the window, just thinking. You were thinking of every other possible outcome that could have happened, it you all had made the right call. You couldn’t help but feel like it was all your fault. Your job was to protect people and you felt like you had failed at that today.

You put in some headphones and tried to drown out your thoughts. You felt a knot form in the bottom of your stomach. You felt absolutely sick to your stomach. You happened to glance across the aisle and saw Derek sitting there. He had headphones in too. You both made eye contact. He mouthed “you okay?”.

One of the downsides of being a profiler and having friends that were profilers, meant they always knew what you were thinking about.

You gave him a weak smile and mouthed the words “I’m good”. You were sure that you hadn’t convinced him at all. He nodded in response. He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press you any further.

You closed your eyes and listened to your music, but you couldn’t get the faces of the victims out of your mind. You took your headphones out and placed them down. You stood up and quickly walked into the bathroom.

You felt sick to your stomach. You got a paper towel damp in the sink. You pressed it to your forehead, trying to make your nausea go away. You put your hands next to the sink and just looked down. You tried to breathe in and out.

Then, you heard a light knock at the bathroom door. “I’ll be right out” you responded. You figured someone actually needed the bathroom. Then you heard Derek outside the door. “It’s me babygirl, open the door” he said, kindly.

Derek and you had always had a special bond. He was the first one that you met on your first day. He introduced you to everyone and gave you tips on how to get on everyone’s good side. Since then, the two of you were always at each other’s side.

You always had each other’s back, in the field and in everyday life. The only time you two weren’t together was the jet rides back after cases.

You put the paper towel in the trash can and then opened the bathroom door. He was standing there and he looked concerned. As soon as you opened the door, he had his arms open for you.

He knew you well enough that he knew exactly what you were feeling. “Come here, it’s okay” he said, softly. You sighed and walked into his arms. He rocked you back and forth. You felt yourself finally relax in his arms.

“I could have saved them and I didn’t. Derek, how am I supposed to cope with that?” You asked him. He pulled away so he could face you. “None of this was your fault. You can not blame yourself for what happened” he told you. You could tell he meant it, you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

“But I should’ve known that it was the wrong call” You told him, still not being convinced that it wasn’t your fault. “The whole team agreed, we all thought it was the right choice. This is on all of us, we are a team. It’s never one person’s fault” he reassured you.

“Thank you” You said, as you pulled away from him. “Are you okay now?” He asked, still concerned about you. “Yeah I’ll be good” you told him.

“Alright let’s go sit back down” he said turning around. You both walked to where the seats were. Derek sat down where he had been sitting and you sat in your original seat.

“What are you doing? Get over here” he told you, chuckling to himself. “But I always sit by myself” you said, confused. “Not today babygirl, come here” he said, sweetly.

You smiled to yourself and got up and sat down next to him on the double wide seat. “That’s better” he said, putting his arm around your shoulders. “You’re a dork” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Yeah, but I made you laugh” he said, smiling to himself.

You couldn’t help but blush, Derek was really such a sweet and compassionate friend.

Quickly, Derek had fallen asleep. You could tell because his breathing slowed and became more regular. You saw Emily start to wake up. She on the other side of the plane. She made eye contact with you and just smirked to herself.

She held her hands up and made a heart shape, trying to tease you. You just rolled your eyes in response. She continued to tease you and make kissy faces.

Emily knew about your crush on Derek. You wouldn’t be surprised if the whole team, including Derek, knew. It was pretty obvious.

You just sighed to yourself as Emily picked up a book and started to read. You felt Derek stir a little. “Is she making the faces again?” He asked, his eyes still closed. “Uhh what?”you asked him. “The kissy faces?” He repeated.

“Oh yeah, was she doing it before?” You asked him, confused. “Yeah, while we talked over by the bathroom” he said. “Oh, I didn’t notice” you said, giggling. “Well you know what we could do to stop her?” He asked you, opening his eyes and looking at you.

“No, I don’t. What did you have in mind?” You asked him, curiously. “Well I bet if we started dating, she would stop with the teasing” he suggested.

You were shocked, to say the least. Derek and you never really flirted, despite being best friends. You guys didn’t have the relationship that him and Penelope had. You guys didn’t have that constant flirty banter that they had. You were just really good friends.

“Just to make her stop teasing us?” You asked, hoping that he would say that wasn’t the only reason you two should date.

“Come on Y/N, you know how a feel about you” he said, now whispering. “I do?” You asked, confused.

Derek quickly glanced up and you saw him look around the jet. Then he quickly pecked you on the lips. It was magical, but all too short. You didn’t even have time to react, you were just left sitting there stunned.

“Did that make it clear to you?” He whispered in your ear. “Yeah, I think that idea you had is pretty good” you said, with a cheesy smile. You interlaced your fingers with his. “Really? You’d like to go out some time?” He asked, in shock.

“Come on Derek, you’re always talking about how you're such a ladies man. Why are you shocked I said yes? You had to know that I liked you” you told him. You were both barely speaking above a whisper, not wanting the rest of the team to overhear anything. “I’m shocked, because you’re the first girl that I’ve really really cared about. And I feel so lucky right now. You have no idea” he said, smiling.

“I am just as lucky. Although Penelope might be a little jealous and try and steal you away from me” you said, giggling. “No, she won’t be surprised. She knew about how much I liked you. She was always scheming and trying to set us up” he said.

He started to rub his thumb along the back of your hand. Everyone knew that Derek Morgan was always a charmer with the ladies. But you never expected him to be so soft and caring. It was really sweet.

“Well just so you’re aware, as soon as we’re away from the rest of the team, you better be prepared to kiss me again. And I get to kiss you back this time. Last time it was too short” you told him, smirking to yourself. “Your wish is my command” he said, giving your hand a squeeze.

And when you guys got back to Quantico, as soon as you got near Derek’s car, his lips were on yours. You had backed up into the car, pulled Derek with you. You were leaning against the door and he had his hands firmly placed on your hips. You both pulled away once for air and then again when Emily drove by and honked at the both of you.

That was when you both decided that you should probably go home, before you guys got caught by anybody else.

taglist: @reniescarlett @thelovelyrose

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character!!

Requests OPEN

#derek morgan #Derek Morgan x reader #derek morgan fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #derek morgan fluff #derek morgan fic #Derek x reader #Derek imagines #Derek Morgan imagines #Derek fanfiction #criminal minds #Emily prentiss #Penelope Garcia

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hq--fics · 4 years ago

Note

hi! could u pls write how kuroo,bokuto,semi and oikawa would react to going to the beach with their gf and teammates and getting jealous when everyone’s staring at her in bikini?💖

A/N: Oh anon you’ve spoiled me with multiple boys to write! Thank you so much for the request. I really hope you like it and I hope that I wrote Semi well enough!

Prompt list: here or feel free to request your own scenarios **Requests are open**

“Going to the beach with their gf and teammates and getting jealous when everyone’s staring at her in a bikini” w/Kuroo, Bokuto, Semi, and Oikawa

Words: 4247

Warnings: some swearing

Masterlist

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Kuroo

You both had planned this trip to the beach over a week ago; picking a day that you were both free and knew the weather would be great. This was to be a day for both of you to have fun and relax. Of course the entire team were invited to really make the most of the day, they needed the chance to unwind too.

When you all arrived at the beach and set up your own area to hang out and start having fun you blinked in surprise to see most of the guys strip down to their swimming trunks and make a beeline for one of the free beach volleyball nets while shouting out who would be on which team. Kuroo didn’t even give you a second look, his eyes set solely on the net. It wasn’t that you minded him playing it was the fact that he didn’t ask you to join them. Hell you would have taken a quick kiss on the cheek before he sprinted off, a sign that he hadn’t forgotten your presence was all you wanted.

Glancing back you saw Kenma perched on one of the beach chairs, he’d changed too but obviously had no interest in playing volleyball. His eyes were trained on the game console in hand. You didn’t want to disturb him and looked over to smirk as Yaku had wasted no time in deciding flirting with some girls would be more fun and you felt your presence would probably throw him off. Not wanting to spoil the mood you pulled off your tank top and shorts to show the red bikini with white polka dots you were wearing underneath.

Grabbing the sarong from your bag you tied it around your waist only now noticing that Kenma’s game was silent you looked to see your boyfriend’s best friend staring at you, a small dusting of pink on his cheeks which you pretended not to notice. “Not that he will but if Kuroo asks, I’ve gone for a walk.” You said dropping your sunglasses from your head to settle over your eyes as you began to walk along the warm sand in the opposite direction of Kuroo.

When they stopped for a break the guys went to one of the coolers brought and grabbed a drink. By now Yaku had returned from his flirting and had been sunbathing while Kenma hadn’t budged from his seat. Only now did Kuroo spot what was wrong with the picture. With a frown he looked around, eyes drifting to the water in case you’d gone for a swim. “She went for a walk.” Kenma spoke up, not needing to look away from his screen to know what was going through his best friend’s mind. “She told me to tell ‘Kuroo’ if he asked.” The others winced and Kuroo felt nervous. You’d been together for so long that you only ever called him by his last name if you were annoyed at him.

Then from a short distance away they all heard cheering and your name. All attention turned in the direction of the commotion. Their eyes widened, jaws dropping in unison as they saw you in your bikini for the first time. To make things worse they watched your lithe form diving to successfully receive the ball spiked towards your side of the net and you hit the sand with a laugh. Your receive let your teammate deliver the winning spike and your game was finished. Kuroo tore his gaze from you to the spectators-mostly male he noted- eyeing you and he felt his eye twitch. Then you had to let one of them help pull you to your feet, his fingers lingering on your arm just a little too long for his liking. You laughed at something the guy had said and you looked down at your sand dusted form. Innocently you removed the sarong from your waist and shook off the sand before using it to wipe the remnants on your skin all while your admirers watched intently.

Unable to hold back anymore he crossed the sand closing in on you. At his approach you lowered your sunglasses to look over the rim at him. “Ah Kuroo, this is Sato, Ikeda, and Hara.” You introduced with a beaming smile. “They were so kind to invite me to play with them when they saw me on my own, wasn’t that nice of them?” Your tone was playful and light but Kuroo swiftly felt the sharpness of your point, the jealousy he’d felt brewing was now mixing with the stronger sense of guilt.

“Thanks for keeping her company guys,” he said not looking anywhere but you. Swiftly he took the sarong from your loosened grasp and draped it around your shoulders before pulling you close against his chest. His lips captured yours insistently. He would admit part of it was to make a point to the admirers who might have had deluded themselves into thinking you were single but mostly his kiss was to show you how much he loved you. “How ‘bout some one on one time? You can call me a dumbass the whole time.” “Oh Tetsu, you are a dumbass.” You laughed out before pressing a quick kiss on his lips “but you’re my dumbass.” You added as you ducked under his arm as you started walking back to the rest of the Nekoma team, allowing him a full view of you in your bikini as he gave chase.

Bokuto

The trip was like everything with Bokuto, spontaneous. The sun was out, you were both free so it was decided the day would be spent with the beach. As you got your stuff together you heard Bokuto on the phone to the rest of the Fukurodani team and the managers to tell them where to meet you. Your excitement at the prospect of it just being you and Bokuto did deflate a little but as you listened to him ramble about how awesome it was going to be with everyone your mood picked up quickly once more.

While the guys went to find a place on the beach for you all, you and the two managers went to change into your swimsuits. When you emerged the two girls squealed; being so unused to Bokuto’s quieter half dressed the way you were. Immediately you became self-conscious and bit your lower lip looking down at the black bikini decorated with a golden feather pattern. It showed off your form perfectly but now you wondered should you go back and change. However both girls grabbed you hands and dragged you out into the sunshine in search of the guys.

By the time you, Yukie, and Kaori arrived the three of you had already amassed an interested following. Mostly it was just long appreciative stares but on the walk some did try to approach but the two managers were quick to brush them off as they kept their arms looped through yours protectively. “Hey, hey, hey!” Yukie called out playfully when she spotted the guys already playing with a volleyball, passing it idly from one to the other. At the signature call they all looked over. Bokuto’s golden eyes widened along with his grin when he saw you, shamelessly looking your bikini and your exposed skin. He was the luckiest guy on earth, he seriously wondered sometimes how he managed to get a girl like you but so long as you were happy to be with him he wasn’t going to question it.

However Bokuto’s focus being solely on you meant he failed to spot all of the looks aimed your way from strangers on the beach. Well he noticed a few stares but to him that was natural, you were gorgeous why wouldn’t you get looked at? What he truly failed to pick up on was the true meaning behind the stares and before that could become apparent Konoha challenging the others to a chicken fight distracted him. Eyes shining, Bokuto grabbed your hand and grinned at you excitedly. “Want to play babe? Together we can’t lose!”

“I’ll play later,” you promised with a large smile, your previous nervousness about how you were dressed had melted away. “I want to soak up as much sun as I can first. You go on though.” That was all Bokuto needed to hear. After giving you a kiss he turned and bolted down towards the sea with the others wanting to play while shouting he was going to win. Laughing at his antics you settled onto the beach chair to read the book you brought and enjoy the sun’s warmth.

Unfortunately other people had very different ideas. Even with some of the guys playing nearby and Kaori and Yukie lounging in their seats on either side of you, guys still approached in the hopes of flirting with you, inviting you to go get a drink or snack, or wanting to know if you wanted to go for a walk or swim with them. Kind as ever you let each person down, your friends letting you handle yourself knowing only to step in should things take a turn. Thankfully everyone seemed understanding enough and left without much hassle.

On the one hand it was nice to be complimented but when it was incessant, each new approach chipped away at your relaxed, cheerful mood to the point you felt tense and on edge just waiting for the next ‘excuse me’ or not-so subtle clearing of a throat to get your attention. Grumbling to yourself you snapped your book shut no longer able to immerse yourself in the story and fished out your mp3 player. Headphones in and music playing you got comfy and closed your eyes already hidden by your sunglasses. Why hadn’t you done this sooner?

Down by the sea Bokuto hadn’t witnessed any of the attention you were getting but the others did to the point they started to make it their main line of conversation. At first Bokuto thought it was their strategy to distract him enough so they could win against him. “Can you blame people from wanting to talk to her? She’s funny and beautiful. She’s the best!” “I don’t think talking is all these guys have on their mind…” Akaashi finally spoke up and when he heard his best friend’s insistence that they were telling him the true he took it a little more seriously all the while trying to ignore the twisting in his stomach. “Look she can handle herself. She’s stronger than other people give her credit for.” He stated with a final shove against Konoha, sending him toppling off Komi’s shoulders and into the water. His victory cheer was cut short when he heard two guys talking as they walked by.

“Ugh, what I wouldn’t give to have a girl like that!” one told his friend who nodded solemnly. “Think her boyfriend was one of the ones close by?” “Possibly, maybe that’s why she said no so quickly. When they leave we could try again with her?” “Good idea!” the friend grinned before sighing wistfully. “Until then I have the memory of seeing her in her black bikini up close.”

Bokuto sprang into action faster than the others anticipated; sprinting up the beach he stopped beside your chair and in one effortless movement he scooped you and the towel you were lying on into his arms. You squealed in surprise and opened your eyes to see Bokuto lie down on the chair and settle you and the towel over him.

Both of you settled into a comfy position, your head tucked under his chin while he had one arm around you, his hand resting on your thigh while you absently played with the fingers of his other. “You win baby?” you asked with a content hum. A grin spread on your lips when his pressed against your head. “Damn right I did.”

Semi

The beach had been your idea and Semi jumped at the chance. He couldn’t wait to have you to himself for once. He’d only recently noticed that his team would always be around you both. Yes, they couldn’t help that you liked to watch their practices but outside of that and school? Some of them were there hanging out too. One person in particular that was always there was Ushijima.

Normally he wouldn’t mind as he never saw Ushijima as a threat against his already established relationship but it wasn’t until Tendou pointed out how you and the ace interacted that he finally saw it.

Honestly how had he not seen the glaringly obvious sooner? You were the only one that Ushijima smiled at. You were a naturally affectionate person to begin with but Ushijima would reciprocate your affection when it went his way. You both even had some sort of inside jokes that he and no one else got. Seriously to an outsider it would look like you and Ushijima were the couple. Deep down Semi felt that made more sense. You and the ace of the academy were ten’s, he on the other hand felt like a six on a good day.

“Hey sweetie guess what?” you grinned snapping him out of his thoughts as he got out of the car to see you looking at your phone. “Toshi and the rest of the team found out we were heading here today and want to join in on the fun!” “They’re crashing another date?” Semi asked a little too harshly making your smile fall slightly. He took a long deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t your fault. You hadn’t invited them but he would bet money that when they asked if they could come you said yes without any hesitation. Rubbing the back of his neck he muttered a sharp ‘whatever’ and stepped onto the sand.

By the time the team arrived and found you both they could feel the tension. When asked what was wrong you could only shrug while Semi insisted that everything was fine. You scowled at that, knowing it was a blatant lie but said nothing. When it had been just the two of you, you’d tried to get Semi to open up to you and tell you what was bothering him but he refused to the point he lost his temper and shouted at you. You blinked suddenly when Ushijima stood in front of you, eyeing you seriously. “Want to go swim? I’m surprised you haven’t gone near the water yet since you love it so much.”

You failed to notice Semi’s clenched fist at the invitation and display that once again Ushijima knew something about you that he didn’t. With a smile and nod you stood and undid the tie of your dress, letting it hit the sand as you stood out of it revealing to everyone the deep purple bikini with black straps. Semi’s face burned and his eyes widened at the sight and watched as you headed to the water with Ushijima by your side, everyone watching you go as you passed by. “Now do you want to talk about it?” Tendou sang innocently at him.

It wasn’t long before he heard your laughter and his sharp brown eyes finally took in the scene with a hardened glare. Ushijima was holding you in the air, his hands shamelessly on your waist before he lifted you into the air and let you cannonball into the water. When you broke through the surface of the water with a grin he could hear you chanting ‘higher Toshi!’ It pained and angered him to see you so joyful and carefree because of someone else. Why couldn’t you see what was bothering him so badly? Oh right because you weren’t a mind reader.

Just as he stood to go and talk to you rationally he saw Ushijima move his hands from your waist to your thighs to lift you out of the water and place you to stand on his shoulder. Jealousy spiking and patience snapping Semi growled and charged down to water. “Wakatoshi!” he called out tightly when you broke through the water’s surface. Your smile fell and you looked at your boyfriend warily. Ushijima stared at his friend. “Tendou wants you.” was all he said. Not questioning the statement, Ushijima nodded and left the water.

When he was gone Semi looked at you still tense and riled up. “Why am I not good enough for you?” he asked and you had to check your ears for any water in case you’d misheard him. “Ita what is wrong with you?” you demanded stepping out of the water to stand in front of him, arms crossed against your soaked chest. “What’s made you think you’re not good enough? Why are you being so pissy about our friends hanging out? They’ve been this way since we got together and that was months ago. Why is it suddenly bugging you that they have no sense of personal space?” “You definitely don’t mind ‘Toshi’ and his lack of personal space…” you blinked at your boyfriend’s accusation and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t.” he whispered, the last thing he wanted was to be laughed at for feeling lesser.

He flinched when you stepped closer, your body against his as you cupped his face to make him look you in the eyes. Semi saw your adoration for him shining and it was only made clearer when you hugged him tightly. “Idiot. I only laughed because Toshi is my cousin.” Semi reeled back and stared at you in bewilderment. “I know Toshi wouldn’t think to say we were related but I thought Tendou had already told you.” Semi was going to kill that red-headed monster but you pressed a kiss against his clenched jaw.

“I only have eyes for you. You know you’re sexy when you’re jealous…” you hummed against his skin, smirking when his hands trailed over your back and down to your hips. “Speaking of sexy…” Semi uttered with a smirk of his own against your lips. “I’m loving the bikini.” With a grin he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder before wading waist high into the water and throwing you in as you screamed out with laughter.

Oikawa

“Oi why are the ones who invited us here the last to arrive?” Iwaizumi asked, his eyes narrowing in on Oikawa as he walked towards him. His head tilted curiously when he was his best friend and biggest annoyance in life was approaching the team alone. His posture was relaxed so he doubted she was far behind. Oikawa gave his best friend his usual playful smile as he took one of the free seats.

“The best looking people have to make the best entrances, Iwa.” He stated as if it was the obvious answer before he looked around the group with a smirk. “So who was the first to arrive?” a swift hit to the head with a clenched fist was answer enough. As he began to chat casually with his team he frowned when Kindaichi started to choke on his own words. He stared at his junior as his face turned red and eyes widened. Kunimi followed his friend’s stare and his usually bored expression took on one similar to the stuttering boy.

Slowly the others stopped their own conversations to see what the fuss was about and Iwaizumi cleared his throat while Hanamaki let out a low chuckle, clapping Oikawa on the back. “Well for once you were right. The best looking definitely make the best entrances.” Oikawa barely took in his words as he stared at you approaching, looking like the goddess you were. His eyes roamed over the aqua blue bikini adorning your body, when you were settling into the space on the seat he’d made for you to sit against him he noted the white outline of stars on the fabric.

Noting that the others were still staring at you he pouted and threw his arms around you in a playful display of possession. “Go get your own girls.” He taunted at them while sticking out his tongue at his friends while you laughed at your boyfriend’s antics.

“Nooo keep staring!” you pleaded with the boys while cuddling into Oikawa’s hold. “It’s so rare to see Toru jealous even if he is pretending. Makes a nice change from it being me all the time.” You grinned up at your boyfriend who stared at you blankly. “That’s ridiculous, you shouldn’t feel that way. Don’t you trust me?” he asked trying to lighten the mood and you arched an eyebrow at him. Was he serious? “Of course I trust you.” You said sitting up straighter and moving so his hold around you wasn’t so tight. “Toru think about how many times your fangirls have swarmed you and I’ve had to smile and watch and say nothing. I do that because I trust you. Think about how many waitresses have flirted with you when we’ve been out and I left the table for a second. How many numbers have been slipped to you when they think I was gone long enough. I’ve pretended not to see that or you trying to get rid of the paper before I come back into view because I trust you.”

You started to get upset as you slowly got to your feet. “I bet if you walked ten steps on this beach some girl would come and bat her eyelashes at you. I know it’s going to happen and I know you’ll let them down because we love each other and I trust you completely but don’t you dare imply that my feelings are ridiculous.” Roughly you ran your hand through your hair and looked at the rest of the group who looked awkward and stared at anywhere that wasn’t you or a gobsmacked Oikawa. “Sorry for ruining the mood guys. I’m going to get some ice cream.” You mumbled before walking away.

Before he could wallow his chair was roughly kicked out from under him. Wincing he glared at Iwaizumi who glared back at him ferociously. “IDIOT! GO AFTER HER!” He shouted hauling his clueless best friend to his feet. “She’s better looking than you at the best of time. Every guy on this beach will have been eyeing her up since she arrived.” “Add in that bikini…” Hanamaki added with pursed lips. “And the fact that she’s upset and alone…” Matsukawa dealt the finishing blow and Oikawa took off after you.

You didn’t get very far before the first group of guys came into your space and Oikawa saw as they all smiled at you and talked gesturing to the small space they’d previously been sitting at. He saw how you shook your head and wiped your eyes. One tried to step closer and put a hand out to you but you swiftly stepped out of his reach and firmly shook your head again before walking away.

Oikawa glared at the group as they continued to watch your retreating figure. Sharply he clicked his tongue and continued after you, closing the distance because of course you were dragged into a conversation by someone. Thankfully it was just one guy this time, definitely less intimidating to you than the group that had practically encircled you. Sadly though this guy had only one thing on his mind and Oikawa could see that from the way he looked at you, trying to be subtle about where his gaze would linger before returning it to your face. He was still a little ways away so couldn’t swoop in and rescue you. All he could do was watch you shaking him off politely before you continued on your way. Through all these interactions you were slowly becoming angrier that you couldn’t just get some ice cream.

Then you stopped when you heard the wailing. Looking down you gasped to see you’d ruined a little boy’s sandcastle. Forgetting everything else you knelt down to apologise and help the boy build a bigger and better castle. By now Oikawa was a few feet away and watched you give the boy a high five when the castle was finished. Even this little snake was after you and Oikawa watched as the boy kissed your cheek with a grin.

Jealousy already boiling in his skin from being unable to save you previously this was the last straw and he appeared scooping you into his arms as he stared in triumph at his confused and much younger opponent. “If you’re looking for a Queen for your castle shorty look somewhere else.” He teased the boy while holding you close against his chest. Immediately you sensed the difference in your boyfriend’s declaration and the way he held you compared to earlier. This wasn’t playful, this time he was deadly seriously. “This one’s taken.” He said as he carried you away and towards the snack stand. “Never thought it’d be a six year old that’d make you jealous…” you said with a small sigh as he set you on your feet but kept a firm hand around your waist as you walked. “Was all the others too.” Oikawa grumbled surprising you. “I’m sorry I was so dismissive of your feelings. Jealousy is the worst.” “You were right though, while it doesn’t go away fully it does help when you know you can trust the other completely to say no...and rescue you when needed.”

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kitsunesakii · 3 years ago

Text

I don't bite - part one

I walked down the street, my hands in my pockets and my headphones on. It was well past midnight and the moon was at its peak. I fiddled with the placement of my headphones resting against my ears, having just got off the bus they were jostled out of position. Normally I didn't ride the bus, instead flying over the city. But, my mission's house was a little past my favorite park, and I had time on my hands. Shoving my hands in my pocket I heaved a sigh. I wasn't really fond of my mission. I hated biting if there wasn't consent. And there wouldn't be in this instance. I dragged my feet, skipping over the cracks in the sidewalk like a child.

I arrived at his apartment complex a little after one. But I knew he wouldn't be home, it was Saturday, and every Saturday he wasn't home until around three. Hence the headphones. I sat down at the bus stop, he wouldn't be arriving from the bus, amusingly he walked home from wherever he left. But I didn't plan to stand for a whole hour. So sitting down, I waited.

My eyes met movement, and I felt him come up. I sucked in a breath, I can do this, I can do this. I got up and nonchalantly walked behind him. The tap on my shoulder is what made me whip around, my headphones clattering to the ground. Making my mission turn as well.

"Hey sweetheart, didn't mean to scare ya, just wanted to ask why you were out here all alone? "

I stared at him kind of dumbfoundedly, he was clearly homeless, and by the smell wafting off of him I would say he was drunk.

"Who said she's alone? " the voice was small but firm, as my mission, a guy who's name I wasn't given, walked up besides me, I stilled. both his hands in his pockets. "I told you to keep up, " he handed me my headphones "you know you slow down when wearing these" he made a disappointed frown.

I looked from him, to the homeless man, then back to him. My brain slowly catching on to what he was doing. He's protecting me, a stranger I forced out a laugh, "haha, gosh I was falling behind, sorry bout that! " I gave him a smile, weary to keep my mouth shut. The homeless man looked at us for a moment, before turning and walking away. Leaving us alone on the sidewalk.

I turned to fully face the guy. In pictures I had always thought he would be taller, instead, he was only a half an inch taller than me. "Thank you" I sputtered, my brain still catching up to the events that had just transpired. He just stared at me, his face resting in a rather relaxed posture. Neither frowning or smiling.

"I noticed you were behind me, do you also live in that apartment complex? " his voice was low, like the gentle hum of a cat. His eyes locked with mine, they were a tainted blue with gold lining. This is your chance, no ones around. I clenched my headphones, my mind spinning a million miles a minute.

"Ah- no, I don't"

"Oh, " he responded cooley, "well, then, lead the way" it was probably rude to just stare at the boy that basically saved me from someone, but my mouth wouldn't work and my hands were hurting from the plastic rim of the headphones biting into my fingers.

I gave him a quick smile before forcing my legs forward. Walking aimlessly. He walked beside me quietly, glancing at me every couple minutes. After a while we hit a cafe, and I walked up to the door, once again turning to face my mission. "Thank you,this is my stop, may I ask you your name? "

"Matthew" he stated.

"Well then, thank you Matthew" I gave him another small smile. He nodded, his eyes flickering up and down me before he simply walked away. I watched him, my heart beat rapidly increasing with every second. You could still finish your mission, it would be quick, painless I took in another breath. I couldn't do it. He protected me, looked at me like a person. His eyes, blue golden. I felt a small dash of heat nest itself on my cheeks. The anger came second. What was I supposed to do now? I couldn't go back empty handed, could I? I failed, I couldn't kill him. Why did it have to be him. A good person with a lax life. I gritted my teeth, there wasn't anything else to do besides head back home. It wont be home much longer. Leaving the coffee shop I headed back to the bus stop, no longer feeling up to walking.

"What do you mean you couldn't kill him!? " I winced at the tone of voice he used, looking at the wooden floor, unable to make his gaze. The room in question was small, but I felt smaller. It was musty and you breathed smoke with every grab at air. I had spent most of the night into the early hours of the day waiting for him to return. 'Initiation' you could have a home, safety, love and more with a stupid test. I'm an idiot my brain screamed, drilling the words harder then the cutting edge of his own.

"I-"

he grabbed my chin with his long nails, cutting into my skin easily.

"Such a simple task," he growled, "this should of been easy for you, such a waste of energy" this wasn't the first time I had seen him this mad, last week, another lonely vampire seeked refuge with him, and they too couldn't do what was asked. using the hand gripping my chin he yanked me to the floor. I recovered quickly, standing to my feat instantly, taking a small step back. Focusing my attention on his words instead of the burning sensation the cuts caused.

"You can stay here until sunset, but then, consider yourself cut off" he growled, with that he used his other hand to scratch from my cheek to the length of my neck, leaving a scar. I waited until he left my small room before patching myself up.

What was I getting myself into? Hot tears trickled down my face, collecting bits of blood on it's way down. I should of never accepted his offer. Idiot, it was stupid to rely on others. All it did was end in pain. It didn't help that I had insomnia. Stupid night Terrors that left me trembling. He had said he could help. Instead he stepped all over me, and I let him. I wiped away the tears. I was fine, I was able to handle myself before and I could do it again.

I tried to sleep, getting only a few merciful hours before I couldn't stop fidgeting. Thankfully it was a pretty cloudy day, and I didn't own much. Shoving the clothes I did own, and a few other belonging into a bag, I forced myself to leave. Going back to the park, under the shade of a great willow. I breathed in the fresh air, so much better than the musty air of the shady apartment I was forced to stay in. I pulled out my book, enjoying the quiet.

A small shuffle got my attention, I looked up, wincing at the pain the quick movement pierced into my neck. Only to see Matthew sitting besides me, looking up at the sky. He glanced at me, and once again I was peering into his blue gold eyes. Sparkling in the sunlight. I couldn't help but smile, cautiously keeping my fangs out of sight. "Fancy seeing you here" I stated.

His eyes swam, tracinging my scar wordlessly. "Hi" he said flatly, his features neutral. I felt my fingers absentmindedly play with the corner of my book. "Your bleeding"

My hands emediatly grazed my scar, my eyes still locked with his. "Oh, yah, fell-" I muttered, without a moment to process I felt his hand come up and trace the length of the wound. Moving his hand gingerly, his eyes fixated on the scar. I held my breath, his fingers sent ripples that danced over my cheek down to my neck. It was almost soothing, the gentle carressing made my scar itch. I stared at him, his face was like stone, not even paying attention to the surprised expression that was slowly melting from my face, replaced with a tint of scarlet.

"Does it hurt? "

I almost didn't register his words, being he practically whispered them. I caught his wrist, holding it before it left my neck, "no" I whispered back. He opened his mouth, then closed it, removing his hand and shoving them back into his sweater pockets. Then, as if nothing happened, he once again tilted his head towards the sky, and I back down to my book. Some time passed, I felt him look back over to me, quietly watching me read. It was hard to ignore, and after a few minutes I matched his gaze. He looked lost in thought, not even registering that I caught him staring. Instead, he looked trapped in deep conversation with himself.

"Do you come here often? " I asked, ripping him from his thoughts.

"Not really, Do you?" his voice had such a nice hum, almost like an accent.

"Not really, but it's been a rough day and I didn't have anywhere else to go and I quite enjoy reading-" I felt myself start to ramble, and quickly shut up. My sharp loud voice a stark contrast to his. His brow folded slightly, barley making a dent on his neutral expression.

"Did someone- Do you need somewhere to stay?"

"No" yes, I watched him nod before slowly turning his gaze back to the sky. I looked up as well. The clouds were striking. Each had a unique shape and the sun created shadows that bounced on the tips of some and on the body of others, adding to the depth of the cloud cluster. In total it looked like I was staring at a painting, perfectly mastered to fit the atmosphere. Each cluster was like an island, floating in the blue sea, each containing it's own form. I admired the brilliant picture of white on blue, getting lost in it, feeling time slowly slip away. My eyes closed, lost in my own sea, I didn't even hear him leave.

I watched the clouds, the day slowly passing over me, fading into the shadows of dusk. I slung my backpack over my shoulders and adjusted my headphones on my head, choosing a playlist before heading out into the night. I walked the same road I had just yesterday, when an idiot decided to look out for me. I bit my lip, a little too hard. Ah, I stopped, abruptly wiping away the bit of blood with my sleeve. "Just another scar to add to my growing collection" I grumbled into the breeze. I found myself walking up to the same cafe I had seen last night. I decided to go in, since I had no real destination.

Pulling of my headphones and Opening the door I was greeted with the late night song of a coffee shop. in total, there was about 6 people. Not including the barista and myself. There were two girls at a table, looking over a laptop. And a boy flirting with the barista, who wasn't giving him the time of day. Over by the tv was a couch, empty besides a guy with his back to me. And in another table was another girl and boy, talking lightly. I walked over to the couch, listening to the music that echoed quietly throughout the room. The couch was awfully comfortable, like a warm hug it beckoned me into the soft safety it had to offer. I closed my eyes, hugging my backpack to my chest as I let myself drowned in the beconing noises of the coffee shop.

My brain sank into the small specks of sleep, pulling me just enough to be jolted awake. Mently cursing at pain it caused in my stomach. I adjusted to the striking colors surrounding me, rubbing the last flecks of sleep out of me. I was me with a pair of eyes, blue with gold lining. "Hi" I gasped, still recovering from the violent awaking.

He stared at me a moment, and I got the feeling he had been staring before. I straitened in the cushions, fighting against the stiffness of my body. Sleeping in a sitting position wasn't in the least bit comfortable. "How long you been there" I joked, trying again to shift myself into a more polite position.

"Are you sure you don't need a place to stay? " his voice carried the same low hum as before, but I noticed the concern. Feeling the tips of my cheeks get red. I did need a place to stay.... But I had no money whatsoever, except for a few bucks for the bus. I looked down, why was he being so annoyingly nice??

"I-im" for the first time, I truly didn't know what to say, he was being so calm, it was driving me mad.

Without warning, he stood up picking up a coffee that I hadn't noticed before. "Follow me" he said

We walked out of the coffee shop and into his apartment complex, I fidgeted with the handle of my backpack, forcing myself to keep my mouth shut. A million excuses flooding my thoughts. We entered an apartment room, well, more like two room, one small and one large. The kitchen seeped into a nice living room, equipped with a cute couch and coffee table. A little to the left was a separate room that I could only assume was the bedroom. There was a tv on the wall, and a couple shelves to the side, adding a touch of comfort. As I looked around, he walked into the kitchen and placed his coffee on the counter.

"The couch folds into a bed, and I have spare blankets, oh-" he walked over to a cupboard and pulled out some medical supplies. Quickly walking over to me, "here, sit" without process I stumbled into the couch, barely catching myself, bracing into the fluff of the fabric.

"What-" before I could finish my thought my breath hitched as his hand cupped my chin, gently tilting my head, looking at my scar. He glanced at his supplies, picking up a Q tip and dipping it in a thickly coated gel. He put it on my scar, I gasped, the gel felt cold against my skin. He pulled back, his eyes widening

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, no, you just startled me, that's all" I gave him a reassuring smile. After a hint of hesitation he carefully glided the Q tip on the length of my scar, only stopping to add more gel. His fingers pressed lightly on my cheek, being carful to not be rough. His gaze set on my scar, his eyes shining in the light on the ceiling. "So pretty" I mumbled, blinking at the fact that I said that aloud. His eyes flickered to mine and I emediatly went beet red. A small smirk rested on his face.

"Thank you" he mumbled back, his face a light shade of red. He finished quickly, and soon he just sat there, stroking my cheek with his thumb. Not bringing himself to move away, his face back to its same stone look. I yawned, it had been a while since I had gotten even a few hours of sleep, and I was weak. He caught on emediatly and let go, muttering something about blankets while he headed off into his room.

I rubbed my eyes, setting my backpack down on the floor next to the couch. He came back and opened the couch, creating a cozy looking bed, a perfect fit for me. He placed down the pillow and blanket, and wordlessly I climbed into it. Letting my body relax, barley feeling the blanket being pulled up over my shoulders, or the lights being turned off.

No, no no no, I wimpered, the shadow looming over me. "Your dreaming, wake up" the shadow took a step towards me, I let out a low wine, unable to back up, "your dreaming, it's ok, I got you, it's ok"

I felt a tight gripped hand pull me against something, ripping me almost completely out of my nightmare. My eyes still closed, I bared my teeth at the shadow. I tried to pull my legs up to my head, trying to cower from it. My stomach tightening in knots. Something gripped me close, I felt breath on my ear. "Hay hay, it's alright, nothing can hurt you, your safe, your safe." I felt my body relax, the voice louder than the shadow. I let the invisible thing pull me closer, laying my head on something rhythmic. Slowly sending me back to sleep, my eyes still closed, I felt somthing brush against the top of my head, already to far asleep to notice.

When I woke up it must of been early because the sun was still well behind the horizon. I sat up, yawning and baring my teeth. There was a clatter in the kitchen, I looked around, the lights were off, but there was Matthew, cooking something over the stove. The smell wafting over. I couldn't help but smile, I didn't know why, but I had slept through the entire night without waking, and I felt very relaxed. I stood up, careful not to disturb Matthew, who was deep in thought. I walked over, leaning against the island and just staring. He was smiling. It was quite a sight, making his eyes shine even more. I wondered what he was smiling about, what was causing his face to show such emotion. I looked over his shoulder, in a pan was two eggs. They crackled and popped.

"Good morning," I said finally, unable to keep myself quiet. He look over and his smile faded slightly, going back to its stone look. But the light in his eyes only got bigger. "Oh please, don't stop smiling for me" I teased, watching his face go bright red.

"Good morning" he said back, watching my movements closely. "Did you sleep good?"

"Yes actually! I sleep wonderful, your couch is super comfortable" I said, his eyes searched mine, as if looking for a clue. I cocked my head to the side, giving a playful frown to his reaction. "Everything ok?" I asked, the tense silence growing too much for me.

His features relaxed, "yah, just making sure" he said, turning his attention back to the pan of eggs. After a moment he skillfully slid them on two separate plates and handed a plate to me. Opening a drawer and pulling out two forks. We sat down over at a small table that bordered the kitchen. It was in front of a window, outside I could see the sun peeking out. I shuffled nervously, taking a bite of my eggs.

"These are really good" I said, my mouth full of egg. His blue gold eyes brighteded, and he glanced at the window, noticing the rising sun. Then, he stood up and pulled the shutters closed, making sure no light got in before proceeding to continue making work on his eggs. Without any words said. My brow folded, confusion and slight paranoia lapping at my senses.

"What was that about?" I asked innocently, my eyes narrowing.

"He looked at me a moment, his fork still fiddling with his breakfast. "The sun is too bright in the morning" he said flatly, averting his eyes.

"Ok...."

We went back to eating in silence, after I was done, and noticed he was also done. I stood and took his plate, quick enough so that he didn't have the chance to argue. "Thank you for breakfast" I said again, placing the two plates in the dishwasher. "And... Thank you for letting me stay the night, but..." I made myself state what had been bugging me for the past few minutes. "I don't have enough money to pay you for your hospitality. I don't want to invade on your privacy, and you probably don't want someone like me hanging around your apartment and-" I was cut short in my rambling by the small smirk that was slowly growing on his face. I had expected him to be disappointed, maybe even mad. But he looked, amused. "What? Why are you smiling" I said, embarrassment flickering in my words.

"I wasn't expecting payment. I enjoy the company." He explained, trying but failing at forcing his smirk off his face. "You can stay as long as you want" he finished. Standing to his feet he walked over to a drawer and pulled out a spare key, handing it to me. "Just make sure to lock up before you leave" he hummed, his voice back to its low sing song like melody. Leaving me flabbergasted.

I cleaned up the couch, folding it back to a sitting position and placing the blanket and pillow on it neatly. When I finished I sat down, he had left shortly after our conversation. Mumbling something about work. He had tossed me the remote before leaving. I skipped through the channels, the news wasn't ever really interesting, it was all the same now. Talk about the politics of vampires and humans, vampire rights and freedoms. Stupid. Ten years now, people have lived with them peacefully. The news was grasping at strings. Still, it was better than nothing, and I settled for a channel on cooking. It wasn't long before I got fidgety, and had to pace around the room for a while. It was too bright to risk going outside, so I opened the fridge to drink something instead. There wasn't much, but orange juice sounded good, so I drank that. Slowly but surely, as the day carried on, the sun started to settle behind the horizon, kissing the mountain tops.

I fiddled with my headphones, when the door opened and in he came. "Hay!" I shouted, giving him a closed lipped grin.

"Hi" he breathed back, clearly exasperated from whatever he was getting back from. He made a beeline to his room, closing it behind him. It didn't take long before he had came back out in a new more comfortable outfit. His hands in his pockets. "Are you hungry, I know a really good place over a ways" he asked, his blue gold eyes locking with mine.

"Yes! I would love that!" Jumping off the couch giddily, I needed to get out into the fresh air. We walked out of the apartment and into the night air, softly lit with the last remaining glow the sun had to offer. There was a slight breeze, and the trees danced to its rhythm. I smiled, unable to contain the happiness stirring inside of me. Like any vampire, I absolutely loved the nighttime. The shadows that played in the corners of your vision, mixed with the hum of others basking in the night air. Bats gliding gracefully in the air, silent as the darkness around them. Pulling myself from my thoughts, I caught Matthew staring at me. His eyes full of awestruck wonder.

We made our way over to a cute little restaurant and ordered food, sitting in the outside seats. Per his request.

"How was work?" I asked, nibbling On the sandwich placed in front of me.

"It was fine"

We ate quietly, silently enjoying each other's presence. When I finished, I closed my eyes. A gust of wind crashing into me, it felt amazing. And I itched to be up in the sky, feeling the rush of the flight. The high it gave. I opened my eyes, his soft gaze peiring into mine.

"Your so beautiful when you get lost in thought"

His abrupt complement left me red and speechless, "ah," I averted my eyes, my gaze faultering towards the floor. "Thanks" I mumbled, unable to meet his blue gold eyes. My stomach stirred with the same weird feeling I felt the day before. We walked home, too flustered to speak. I noticed him watching me in the corner of my eye, his face in its calm stone stare. I could get used to that, I pondered to myself.

We got home and I once again got ready for bed, this time entering the bathroom and changing into pj's. I layed back down into the comfy blankets and drifted into sleep, the events of the day still lingering in my thoughts.

@vigilantetendencies

#vampire #romance #writing snippet #long reads

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waatermelon-sugaar · 4 years ago

Text

Under My Skin: Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Words = 4.3k

Chapter warnings = swearing, bad words, let me know if I missed anything!

Summary = Despite the explosive argument that resulted on your last mission with Poe, Leia decides another is in order

A/N = I made up the planet that they go to, as far as I’m aware it doesn’t exist in the Star Wars canon, but when I wrote the first draft I had no wifi to research a planet and then I couldn’t be bothered to change it. Also I know nothing about flying, nor about physics, I have based this on my (limited) experience of driving and therefore taken a lot of artistic license - I am sure what I have made these characters do is not actually possible.

Edit = Cross posted to AO3

Chapter 1

***

Poe Dameron was irritating on a normal day. A grounded Poe Dameron was worse. Like a caged fathier with no outlet for his excessive levels of energy it felt like he was pacing the length of the base multiple times a day, making it almost impossible to avoid him.

Not that that stopped you from trying. To complicate matters, you were doing your best to not think about him at all. So far, it was going well. You hadn’t even talked to him since the debrief, making a special effort to not even look at him when he was in the same room as you.

The debrief had taken place a couple of days after you’d shouted at Dameron, and had been unbelievably awkward. Leia and General Holden had been polite, running through any spare details of information gathered in the compound, what type of books there were, what they were about, what languages they’d been in.

After you’d talked, it was Dameron’s turn, answering questions about the objects in their cases, what planets they were from, how old they were, if they formed a collection. It felt like it went on forever, finally making it onto questions about your shooter, was it the suspected owner, how many droids appeared, was the security system as expected?

You were sure Dameron would be sneering at you, so you avoided looking at him, and didn’t dare directly address him. Keeping your hands clasped in your lap had helped prevent visible shaking.

Saying as little as possible, you’d escaped at the first opportunity, ignoring how Poe stood up, and desperately pretending that you couldn’t hear how he immediately started to talk, more animated than he’d been the entire time you’d been there.

Both of you had been in trouble; Dameron for hiding his injuries, and you for shouting at him. And while he’d been the one officially grounded, it was of little comfort, knowing that it was no doubt due to him failing his physical. And now Dameron had been able to defend himself and probably slag you off in the same sentence while you had left, feeling like a child sent to their room.

But unable to fly it felt like he was all over base, just where and when you didn’t want him to be.

Like now. You were working on a mission report with a bar of chocolate to keep you going, lying nearly horizontal on a couch. Background music was playing in your headphones and your datapad was open with a number of tabs and the mission report was there, right in front of you, half written - and yet your eyes kept flicking over to Dameron sat by the center table.

You weren’t sure he’d seen you when he walked in, hidden as you were behind the shelves in the corner. You liked this nook, it always made you feel protected and the idea of Dameron finding this corner and no doubt ruining your sense of security vaguely irritated you. Looking through the gaps you could see his legs resting on the chair opposite him, and if you sat up a bit, you saw that his back was to you, facing the door, his shoulders tight.

Ignoring him, you tried to get back to work, and you would never have admitted it, but the noises as he worked was...nice enough, in it’s own way. Little growls of frustration that you could barely hear over your music, the occasional sentence read aloud, BB-8’s reassuring little beeps. They made you feel less alone.

Finally, finally, you finished. Dameron didn’t look like he was any closer to getting up and leaving, and you took your time shutting down your pad. You’d have to pass him. It had to be done, you wanted to have a shower and go to bed, but...still.

You intended on ignoring him, but it felt excessive to leave without even a - “Goodnight, Dameron.” It was short as you passed and you resisted the weird urges inside of you that wanted to insult him and make sure he was ok at the same time.

He didn’t say anything at first, and you exhaled heavily in relief, and...something else which you didn’t want to unpack.

Until he said your name. Your first name.

You stopped walking, jaw clicking in annoyance as your back tensed. “I’m sorry.” His voice floated from out behind you, strong but quiet. You looked at the door in front of you. It was probably about 4 steps away - you couldn’t have walked a little faster?

“In the medbay, what I said… it was out of order. It was too harsh and I’m sorry.” He paused and you still didn’t move, frozen to the spot. “I didn’t mean it. Any of it, sweetheart. I-” he paused again and changed his mind. “I’m sorry.”

Finally you turned around, a strange trembling rising from your stomach to your chest. Your eyes narrowed, mouth turning up in distaste.

“You’re sorry?” you spat, taking care not to look at his face. “You were only too happy to badmouth me to Leia and General Holden afterwards though!” You took a step backwards, conscious of how far the door was. Your eyes rose from the floor to his face, ignoring the slight signs of tiredness around his eyes, the first time you’d looked directly at him since the medbay.

Shaking your head, you glanced away, the reminder sending hot embarrassment through you, still.

Dameron’s head has dropped into his hands and he’s pulling slightly at his curls. Your breath quickens in annoyance as you start talking again. “Whatever, I-” The slamming of his hands on the table interrupts what you’d been about to say. His hands are clenched into fists, knuckles white, and the look on his face scares you.

“You don’t have a clue! You’re determined to think badly of me aren’t you?”

For the first time, words escape you. Dameron walks towards you, quick paced and you back away until you reach the wall. There’s something poking into the small of your back, but the physical discomfort is less than the discomfort you feel radiating off Dameron.

He’s close to you now, close enough that you can smell him, a deep rich smell, one that smells like a man, and why do you like it? His hands are clenching and unclenching at his sides, like he wants to reach forwards and shake you.

You match his glare, finally finding your words, “I’m determined to think of you based on your actions, Commander.” He stiffens at the use of his title, but you continue. “I know you’re a better pilot than I am, but you need to learn not to look down on people who are a lower rank than you!”

Dameron’s mouth opens...and then shuts without comment. As you continue glaring at him, you realise this is the first time he’s been speechless around you. And it’s now, his body so close he’s nearly pressing you into the wall and what the hell is poking you? You can feel your heart beating quickly and you hope he doesn’t notice it in your neck.

“Well, maybe I do, but you need to learn not to judge others. Not everything’s as simple as it seems!” He’s not shouting anymore, but his voice still feels dangerous.

Whatever. You don’t want to be a part of this anymore. You push roughly past him, hitting his shoulder as you do and mumbling a “Fuck off” under your breath as you finally make your escape.

***

No sooner had you rejected Poe’s apology than you wished you had accepted. It had been an automatic reaction, snapping back at him in your hurt. You’d never been close to Poe, the snub he’d given you when you met preventing you from ever seeing him in a favourable light.

And Poe’s apology was causing an annoying thought to run through your mind. One you had absolutely no business thinking about, and you didn’t know what had brought it about.

But still. What had you missed out on by not being Poe’s friend?

The answer was, of course, absolutely nothing.

Especially now.

It would no longer be enough to bicker like siblings with a rivalry. Regret made you clench your jaw and your heart around Poe Dameron, a physical remainder of the damage you’d done.

This was a new feeling. This was proper anger, real hurt. It was unfamiliar and you weren’t quite sure what to do with it.

You didn’t walk around the base unless you had too now, preferring the isolation of your room to the fear that would shoot through you every time you saw someone with curly hair.

Instead, you found people came to you. Rose was a frequent visitor and you were always happy to see her, even if she didn’t quite understand your reluctance to leave. Members of your squadron came to catch you up on what you missed and after a couple of days you began to think maybe you were being ridiculous. Would it really be so bad if you saw him again?

The decision was taken out of your hands when Kare knocked on your door. She was holding her helmet, with her orange flight suit zipped up. She had a pretty bad case of helmet hair, blonde strands flopping into her face contrasting brilliantly with her brown skin. Dameron stood behind her, determinedly not looking into your room, looking slightly at odds in a normal shirt.

Great. You couldn’t even avoid him by not going anywhere.

“Hi!” she started, pausing, “Are you alright?”

You hum gently at her, tiredness scratching at your eyes, despite the amount of sleeping you’ve been doing. “What’s going on? Where are you off to?”

“I just got back from a recon mission,” she tells you, and sleep is still pulling at you. “General Organa asked me to tell both of you that she wants to see you for a briefing tomorrow.”

You look again at Poe, as he nods stiffly.

“Is that everything?” He’s not even looking at Kare, and you shoot her a questioning glance.

“It’s at 8 in her office,” Kare says, shaking her head, silently telling you not now. You bit back an irrational laugh as Dameron nods again, leaving as fast as he can. “You’ve pissed him off!”

You’ve not managed to shut the door as she says this, and you shush her desperately as the two of you dissolve into giggles. “So it’s true?” Kare’s taken Rose’s usual seat at your desk, spinning round with the soles of her feet scraping on the floor. “You shouted at him?”

You sigh. That.

“I - yes. He did something stupid,” you tell her and she lets out a chuckle.

“When doesn’t he?” And maybe it’s something about her expression, and the contrast with her dry tone, but it makes you laugh again as she continues, “Don’t worry, everyone thinks he deserved it.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised. “They do?”

She nods, “Yeah. You’ll have to work with him on this mission though.” She’s picking up objects on your desk, and haphazardly returning them to the wrong place. You huff a little at the idea but change the topic.

***

Walking into Leia’s office the next day, you immediately rolled your eyes when you saw Dameron pulling a face as he made eye contact with you.

“Ok this stops right now.” Leia’s voice is sharp and to the point as she glares at the two of you. “This is ridiculous. The two of you are on the same side, fighting the same fight and you can’t even be in the same room?”

“With all due respect General, the enemy of my enemy is not my friend,” you say, not looking away from Dameron. He looks better than usual, wearing a black t-shirt that somehow makes his hair look darker, his arms stronger, his face fresher.

Leia huffs, and gestures to the seat next to Dameron which you take ungraciously, as she continues. “Perhaps not, but you are on the same side. I would like to ask for at least civility towards each other.” Dameron’s wearing tac gear, you realise, scanning up and down his body. Knee pads blend into the black of his trousers, which are tucked into a hefty pair of boots. Your eyes keep catching on the smoothness of his jaw and throat, he must have just had a shave. “Shake hands.”

Your mouth drops open, finally looking away. “What?!” Both of you speak at the same time. You look back at him to see him smiling gently at you. You frown, but stick your hand out, breaching the gap.

“Truce?”

You’re acting annoyed, but there’s a thrumming excitement rising again in you. A mission is a mission, even if it means working with someone you don’t really want to.

You ignore the very small part of you that does want to be friends with him.

Dameron’s hand is warm when it grasps yours, strong in his conviction, and there’s something unreadable in face as he replies. “Truce.”

Leia smiles at you when you turn back to face her, and you have to squash down your own, wanting to remain annoyed at Dameron. Clicking a button on her desk, she starts playing a hologram. It’s a video replay of a number of ships - 2 distinctly First Order TIE fighters, and 3 Resistance X-wings. The TIE fighters are moving in a way you’ve never seen before, unprecedented skill allowing them to miss Resistance shots that should have been hits.

Leia allows the video to play a number of times before waving her hand to freeze the image. You can only gape at her, not quite sure what she wants you and Poe to do about it. Dameron’s hands are already twitching in your peripheral vision, like he’s imagining how he would manipulate the controls to achieve the same effect.

“This was supposed to be a simple recon mission, which was not supposed to have any engagement,” Leia starts, “but the First Order showed up, and our pilots decided to shoot first, but couldn’t make a hit. I want the two of you to work out how they managed to do this. And I’ve arranged for the two of you to practice on Greplimin, which is a largely empty planet two parsecs from here.” Sighing, she leaned on the desk, giving Dameron the holo stick. “Can I trust you not to kill each other?”

Dameron leaves as fast as he can, muttering something about finding BB-8, but you hang back, waiting by the door to ask Leia something.

“Why have you asked me?” You still feel too vulnerable when you look at her, and in the back of your mind you wonder if you’ll ever get over this.

Leia only raises an eyebrow, asking you to elaborate.

“I’m not the best pilot.” You start desperately. “I know I’m not. I would never tell him-,” you throw your arm at the door, “-that, but it’s true. I’m not the best person to ask and if you want someone who gets on with Dameron, I don’t - why, why did you choose me?”

Leia sits down and you stand there, feeling weirdly lanky.

“You’re right.” How is she so confident? “You’re not the best pilot. But you have an unconventional way of flying and the First Order didn’t manage to pull that stunt by being conventional.”

“Figure it out, Lieutenant,” she dismisses you, attention already on some papers on her desk.

***

Dameron had begun to make dinner by the time you’d finished setting up the tent. You’d grumbled under your breath as you worked to construct the two camp beds, sure that the Resistance could afford two tents. Outside, Dameron’s quiet conversation with BB-8 was muffled, indistinct words floating to you under the chirping sounds of the birds and insects.

Even in your grumpy mood as you’d flown out, you could appreciate the beauty of Greplimin. Green had stretched out as far as you could see, circling until you’d found a good place to make camp. A large clearing surrounded by trees, a lake not too far of a walk for water, which was now set alight with the glow of the three suns as they began to set.

The food, cooked by Dameron over an open fire, was nice enough, but something had risen to the back of your throat, making it hard to swallow. You don’t talk much, saying the bare minimum in order to resist snapping at Dameron unnecessarily. As much as you don’t want to admit it, Leia is right - you are on the same side of the war. Conversation is stilted and unnatural, so you take the cowards way out, feigning tiredness to escape.

But that doesn’t mean Dameron has any business being as attractive as he is on this mission. It’s as though ever since your argument in the common room, his attractiveness has increased dramatically and you hate it.

By the next morning, a slight stubble had started to grow, darkening his jaw and making your heart beat a little faster as the two of you eat in silence, lit by the glow of the sun rise. Out of annoyance, you told yourself, after all, it’s unprofessional to have stubble. And anyway, who can grow facial hair that fast? From the look of him yesterday, he’d freshly shaved.

And he’d started to look at you differently too. You’re just not sure what the difference is.

The next day is spent flying. Both you and Dameron are a little rusty, having both been grounded for a month now. You have to focus on breathing calmly when you first sit back in the cockpit, the image of Poe near to collapse in the seat behind you sending you back to your last mission. You have to turn around to convince yourself that he’s sat in the other X-wing.

Turning on your comm link, the two of you run through pre-flight checks together, methodical and reassuring, before running through the normal exercises, switching between who is acting as First Order and who is Resistance.

It’s nice. Comforting, even, the familiar routines you could do in your sleep, muscle memory taking over when your brain stumbles.

And even though neither you or Poe say a whole lot, it’s a nice safety net, knowing that there’s someone on the other end of the line. It’s the odd little phrases that he uses, praising you or himself, with the occasional swear word or whoop of delight thrown in. He’s playing music, because of course he is, but you can only catch the odd bar, not enough to recognise any songs.

Not for the first time, you recognise the intimacy of comm’s, how talking directly to the other’s ears feels...more personal, somehow. So you bite back any quick replies you think of, pushing down any breathless laughter at his comments.

You love flying too. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of floating in the sky, taking turns at a ridiculous pace, and feeling adrenaline burn you up on the inside.

The usual exercises end up taking over the whole day, you and Dameron blasting them until they’re perfect. Briefly you wonder if this is what it would be like to be in Black Squadron, perfection expected rather than a nice added bonus. He doesn’t seem surprised though, when you manage them. You frown, you’d expected some kind of taunt about how you’d done better than he’d thought...but the comms were silent to your expectations, just the odd, respectful, “Well done.”

On the third day, you give the First Order’s new moves a go. Neither you nor Dameron are quite brave enough to fully twist the way they did, and you’re not sure what his worry is, but the idea of overheating your engine mid-flight is enough to stop you.

Lunch is spent with the two of you eating together and poring over the video, stopping and starting it at different moments to talk over the best ways to fall out of the spin. Having a goal, a problem to solve makes conversation flow much easier and you’re grateful for it. It’s something else to concentrate on and you can ignore sparks of irritation as he scratches his stubble, the noise swooping low in your chest.

After lunch, Dameron acts as First Order, and it’s a surprise when his voice crackles through the comm links.

“I’m going for it.”

He’s determined, and you know there’s not much you can say to stop him, especially because you’re out here to solve this, but you still yelp out a “What!”

“If I can get enough height I reckon I could do it.” Comes the reply and you can only sigh and watch as Dameron’s ship starts to climb. Switching gears, you start to follow, circling round to imitate how the Resistance would catch up.

Poe starts to twirl as he descends, copying the way the First Order pilots had gained speed and unpredictability, and you struggle to hold your ship steady in his airstream.

He starts to spin faster and faster, cutting his engine and throwing the X-wing to the left. You’re miles behind now, having been unable to reach the same speed and you can only listen to his steady swearing as he struggles to start the engines back up again.

As he reaches closer to the tree line you start shouting. “Deploy! Deploy now!” Desperation laces your voice, “Poe deploy your parachute NOW!”

And he does.

A plume of fabric billows out from the back of his X-wing, slowing him down enough that you can see the exact moment when Poe restarts the engines. It doesn’t last for long though, and all Poe can do is control his landing, skidding through the trees.

You careen after him, bruising your landing and scrambling to get out of the cockpit to go and help clear the door to get Poe out. “Are you alright?” You ask, looking into his eyes to check for signs of a concussion. He was wearing his helmet, but that was a rough landing.

And his eyes are a really pretty shade of brown, swoons a voice inside of you, which you try and squash with a few choice swear words. Now is definitely not the time. There is never a good time for noticing Dameron’s eyes.

Poe seems alright though, accepting your hand of help to jump out. “I never knew you cared, sweetheart” he grins, and then groans. “Could do with some water though.”

So you help him back to your campsite, giving him a glass and sitting next to him in silence. Except, for the second time that day, it’s comfortable.

“The spinning was good,” you offer after a moment.

You’re not looking at him, the water glimmering as a distraction. He only hmphs in return.

“It was!” And are you trying to convince Poe Dameron of all people that he did a good job? You take a quick glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

He’s looking in the same direction as you and you note that the colour has returned to his cheeks again.

“You got good speed up,” you continue, “faster than I could and we just need to figure out how to cool our engines down - especially when we’re in hyperspace.”

“I want to know how they didn’t crash into each other.” You look at him again, his voice thoughtful. “There’s just so little control, once you cut the engine after spinning like that, you’re subject to airflow but they knew where the other would be.”

“Do you think it’s possible they’re better than us?” If you hadn’t watched Poe talk, you’d have thought you hallucinated.

Grinning, you shove your shoulder against his. “Better than you and me? You’re having a laugh.”

“Yeah that’s not it.”

There’s not much to say after that, the occasional huff of laughter bubbling out.

***

You do eventually have to go back to the X-wings, both of which need patching up. The hull of yours is damaged where you hit some trees when landing, while Poe has to start with packing up his chute before even thinking about the wiring and his engines.

Once you’ve done all you can for yours, you clamber into Poe’s cockpit. Thankfully he doesn't notice at first, allowing you a moment to compose yourself. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his forearms as he grips together some wiring. BB-8 is sat in the pilot's chair, beeping some instructions at him.

Meanwhile there’s a tool sticking out of his mouth, and something about that is insanely sexy, but you clear your throat before your mind can go anywhere. Poe looks up and oh maker this man is going to destroy me.

You scowl at him as you speak, as though scowling can undo your traitorous thoughts. “Do you need a hand?” Poe looks like he’s going to say no, but then something sparks out, hitting his hand, and he drops the wires, mouthing a swear in pain, although he keeps his teeth clenched around the screwdriver.

Oh shit. Oh shit, shit, shitshitshitshit.

You can’t look away from his mouth and you need to reset, to go back to square one, base level, because your heart has stopped in your chest and you know what this means. Instead you whack Poe over the head as you push your way into his space, stepping over the wires on the floor.

“Do you want my help or not?” you ask again, and maker you’re rude. Your parents would be disappointed. But Poe looks surprised that you’re offering again.

His eyes meet yours when he replies, steady and unwavering. “Yeah that would be nice.” The tension gradually dissipates as the two of you work together, rewiring and melding your way through the underneath of the control panel.

You do your best to ignore the touches, telling yourself that it’s inevitable in such a small space as your hands brush together as you lean over him, or how close he is when he peers over your shoulder to instruct you which piece to hold while he adjusts them back to their proper place.

***

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Chapter 1<----->Chapter 3

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sprnklersplashes · 3 years ago

Text

theo/robin- “we broke up but I was in an accident and you're still my emergency and you dropped everything to come to the hospital”

also on ao3

He grabs the phone at what he suspects is a second before it stops ringing. After pushing himself off the couch and throwing about five hundred things off the coffee table in search of it. He can feel Moth’s stink eye on him even as he turns and heads into the hall, half-closing the living room door. Not just because he disrupted the organised chaos of their coffee table, but because he violated their ‘no answering the phone during the movie’ rule. He’ll make it up to her, he tells himself. He’ll do the coffee run tomorrow. Even she can’t remain mad after an iced latte.

He hears her pause the movie and thinks maybe he’ll throw in a cupcake too.

“Hello?” he asks.

“Robin Goodfellow?”

“Yep.” He’s just a little suspicious, because the voice definitely isn’t one he recognises, and hardly anyone has his number, just Moth and a few close friends. It’s a little unusual, but not too much, and certainly not enough to scare him or anything.

“This is Greendale hospital.We’re calling you because you’re the emergency contact for Theo Putnam.”

Apparently, he spoke too soon.

The first part is enough to send a shiver running up his spine. He thankfully doesn’t have too much experience in hospitals, but the word still puts him on edge. His experiences might be few and far between, but he’s smart enough to know that calls from hospitals mean bad news, 99% of the time.

And yet, that’s not even the part he’s focussing on. Instead he’s focussing on the name uttered on the other line. A name that makes him feel like he’s drowning, and flying, and dying all at once, just at the mention of it.

“Theo?” he asks. Slowly, the information begins to come together, clicking like a jigsaw puzzle. Theo. Hospital. Hospital. Theo. Emergency contact. Him. Emergency. Theo in hospital for an emergency. He breathes out steadily, one hand flat against the wall, and swallows past the lump in his throat. “Theo Putnam?”

“Yes.” The operator’s voice is soft, careful, coaxing him to stay calm, and it would work were it not clearly rehearsed. They’re trained to stay calm in any kind of crisis. Robin is yet to learn that. “He was in a motorbike accident. We’ve tried to get ahold of his father, but we’ve been unable to reach him.”

Robin looks down at his watch. Of course, he thinks. Thursday night. 8pm. If nothing has changed, then Mr Putnam is out in the fields right now, his phone left on the kitchen table because, in his words, ‘it’s too expensive to take out and get lost’. Theo had tried, and failed, to explain to him that the point of a cellphone is for people to reach him whenever they need to. Briefly, he hopes that the hospital doesn’t see Mr Putnam as some neglectful asshole for this.

But there’s more pressing things than Mr Putnam’s reputation.

“Is-is he okay?” He pushes his hair away from his face and pretends not to notice the trembling hand, or how the warmth has fled his skin entirely.

“Yes. We believe there’s nothing fatal. Like I said, he crashed his motorbike and was badly hurt. And since he’s a minor, we need someone to come in and fill out some paperwork for him, and take him home. He’s in no state to drive himself.”

I bet he isn’t. Robin lets out a soft curse and leans against the wall. Now that the worst-case scenario is over, he lets himself think about how much bullshit this all is, and how much of an asshole Theo is because, seriously dude, you didn’t update your emergency contact info? Why was I even there to begin with?

His heart flutters though, just a little, when he thinks about it, and he tries not to hate himself for it.

“Mr Goodfellow?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I-I’ll be right there. Thanks. Bye.” He hangs up before they can say anything else, and lets the dial tone ring in his ear, flood his mind and leave it blank, before springing into action.

And of course, Moth is standing in the doorway when he turns, her grin only growing wider when he jumps.

“Jesus, Moth.”

“Where you off to, hot shot?” she teases, like she doesn’t know. Like she paused the movie so they could watch it together. Like that name didn’t set alarm bells off for her as much as it did for him.

Moth never liked Theo, and never made an attempt to hide it. Not even when he brought him around, or when Theo tried to get on her good side. He gets it, to some extent, given that they;re brother and sister in all but blood, and protecting him was a job she began early on. But even he soon got bored of her speeches about how Theo isn’t good enough for him, how he’s risking too much for a small town farm boy. He reminded her that he was hardly high class himself-an ex foster care brat who only just got a full-time job as a tattoo artist. Her rants didn’t stop bringing Theo round though, and towards the end he just started tuning her out. He assumed, hoped, that one day she’d get tired, or bored, and then finally see the good in Theo, and they’d all live happily ever after.

So much for that.

She wasn’t necessarily happy when Robin came home that night, eyes full of tears and heart freshly broken. She made him some tea, turned on Taylor Swift and let him cry his sad little heart out. So no, she wasn’t happy. But still.

Now he pushes past her into the living room, grabs his jacket from the coffee table, and prepares himself for some more of her bullshit.

“I guess I owe Mer ten bucks,” she sighs. Her response is so far from what he expected-which was something closer to a rant about how he’s better than this-that he freezes in place, his eyes narrowing in a silent demand for the answer. She just shrugs, her lips pursed like it all makes perfect sense. “She bet me you wouldn’t last six months without him. I thought you were stronger than that, but that’s what I get for believing in you.”

“Okay, first off, can you and your girlfriend stop making bets on my love life,” he says. “And second, he was in an accident, for your information.” He pulls his jacket on and turns down the collar. “He’s in the hospital. I'm his emergency contact.”

“Oh,” is all she says. She’s not one for admitting when she’s wrong, not out loud, so she just steps aside and tosses the keys into his open hand. It’s enough for him though, and he taps her shoulder as he passes her in thanks. “Text me when you’re coming home,” she says just as he opens the door. “And if you need anything. And… if he’s okay.”

He nods, the gesture minute, and jogs outside. He throws himself into the car and peels out of the driveway, shaking fingers wrapped around the steering wheel. He picks the first radio station he can and turns it almost all the way up, letting it drown out his thoughts.

It doesn’t work, but no-one can say he didn’t try.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’s not in the waiting room five minutes before he puts his headphones in. It’s the same logic as the music in the car; drown out the sounds, forget where he is. The paperwork sits on his lap, supported by a wooden clipboard that’s seen better days and a receptionist with tired, sympathetic eyes sporting dark shadows. She tells him she’ll come and get him whenever he can see him, and less than a minute later, appears with a paper cup of coffee. ‘You look like you could use it,’ she said before leaving him to the paperwork.

The coffee sucks, but the gesture is appreciated.

He texts the Midsummer Night's group chat, updating them on what little has happened so far. Moth is surprisingly sympathetic, messaging him privately saying she hopes he’s okay, Merry offering words of comfort and the others piling on with the love and support. It’s beautiful, and it’s sweet, but it’s suffocating. He mutes the chat before he can see someone else asking if there’s anything they can do and puts on a podcast that has yet to let him down. From there he reads through the paperwork and mindlessly puts his signature wherever he needs to. He tenses at the sight of the word ‘surgery’, even if the word ‘minor’ is before it and shudders at the word ‘accident’. He turns the volume up on his podcast every time his thoughts start going down a road he doesn’t like, as if Theo will be okay if he doesn’t let himself think about it.

By the time the nurse taps him on the shoulder, he’s getting dirty looks from the lady two seats down that tells him everything she thinks about his podcast choices.

“Hey,” the nurse quietly, like he might bolt if she scares him. “The surgery went well, and we moved him to the recovery room. He’s awake, if you want to go see him.”

She leads him down a perfectly-polished corridor, neon lights distorted in the shiny reflection, and quickly up in a too-small elevator before stopping outside what must be Theo’s room. Room 203, with the word RECOVERY printed on the wood in grubby white letters. The nurse tells him something in a soft, polite voice and he thanks her before leaving, because he wasn’t raised in a barn, and then it’s just him and the door. And Theo, on the other side of it.

It takes more effort than it should just to put his hand on the handle.

It’s been four months now. Four months, two weeks, five days, because yeah, he counted. Four months since Theo’s insecurities got the better of him and he told Robin to leave, since Robin got tired of trying to work it out and told him that he’d come back whenever he’s ready. A week later, Roz appeared on Robin’s doorstep with most of his things in a box-a mixtape he’d made for Theo’s birthday, one of his shirts, his cap, a book he’d forgotten about. Four months of waiting beside the phone, of not-so-subtly checking out his social medias.

Four months without waking up next to him, or meeting him for coffee, or sharing milkshakes, or having his face pressed into the crook of his neck.

Four months had never felt so long, and now here they are.

He doesn’t feel himself turning the handle, only sees the door slowly opening before him, a cold wash spreading over his body. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting. Stony silence. A potted plant being thrown at his head. A colourful array of curse words telling Robin exactly where to go. Or maybe, in his wildest dreams, Theo bursting into tears and begging him to take him back.

He doesn’t know what he expects, but what he gets is Theo blinking at him, surprise slowly trickling through the medication-induced haze.

“Hi,” he says slowly. That’s the first word Theo has said to him in four months. Hi. His response is ‘hey’, so it’s not like he’s much better, but still.

He closes the door and moves closer, stopping a good few feet from Theo’s bed. He isn’t an asshole, and so he lets the fog clear a good bit before he starts saying anything. He had planned on going straight into a lecture, but state he’s in, he now feels bad doing so. His skin is almost as pale as the sheets he’s lying on, his right cheek sporting a nasty looking purple bruise, smaller marks and cuts trailing along his neck and jaw. The arm facing Robin is wrapped in layers of white bandage, while the opposite leg sits atop the sheets and wrapped in a cast. He moves, little by little, until he can see that side of his body, which seems to be more bruises than skin. He winces on instinct, and then remembers that he still can’t see what’s beneath the blanket and hospital gown.

“What are you doing here?” Theo asks after a while.

“I’m still your emergency contact,” he replies, and he tries not to laugh when Theo curses under his breath. He chuckles humorlessly. “Seriously, you need to get that changed.”

“Yeah, I’ll make that a priority.”

“Well, you should. I changed my contact info two months ago. When-” The words catch in his throat. When it became clear to him that Theo didn’t want him back. When he texted him and waited around for two days for a reply. When it was obvious that Theo had moved on and he should do the same. “Well, I did.”

“Oh well good for y-” He gasps sharply, the word turning into a strained cry as he clearly pulls on something he shouldn't have. Robin’s at his side in less than a moment, his hands on his shoulders because he’s unsure where else to put them. They stay there, sitting in that half-embrace, as the seconds pass and the tension fades from Theo’s face. Robin watches and resists the urge to run his thumb along Theo’s jaw.

“You okay?”

“Peachy keen,” he replies in a voice that implies anything but. Now that he’s closer, Theo somehow looks worse than he did when he came in. He can see the bruises poking out from beneath the hospital-issued gown, along with freshly-covered cuts. He remembers the nurse telling him something about needing stitches and he tries not to shudder.

Theo’s eyes follow his and, because Theo is a bastard, he smiles.

“I look pretty badass huh?”

“Not the word I would use.” Theo pouts and damn it, Robin can’t help it. He laughs; he’s not made of stone. Theo laughs too, as much as his beaten-up body will allow, and raises an eyebrow at him. “So is this the part where you tell me ‘I told you so’?”

“No. Because I am not an asshole.”

But in complete fairness, he did tell him so. Several times, in fact. He told him over and over again that that bike was a death trap and would it kill him to wear a helmet for the love of God and there’s no way he should be on that thing when he doesn’t even have a permit and does he know the reason motorbike insurance is so much cheaper than car insurance? He had told him all of that, over and over again, and Theo had just laughed and kissed his cheek and told him he’s cute when he’s protective.

Well now he’s cute and right.

“No,” Theo says after a pause. “You’re not an asshole.” He tilts his chin slightly and looks at him, his eyes still slightly dazed, probably from the pain meds. “You came all the way out here because you heard I got hurt. That’s not an asshole thing to do.”

“Yeah, well… You’d have done the same for me.” He doesn’t deny it. Instead he just huffs a soft laugh and looks down at his sheets, his free hand toying with the fabric. Maybe it’s just him, he hopes it’s just him, but it feels too bold, what he said. Like he had just asked, or at least implied, something about them not being entirely over. His heart skips a beat, and so he quickly changes the subject. “They said they’re trying to reach your dad. I know he’s usually busy these nights. They said they’ll keep trying to reach him.”

“Oh God.” Theo’s head hits the pillow, a low groan escaping him. “My dad.”

“Yeah.” Theo opens one eye and looks at him and sighs heavily, grunting slightly with his sore chest. “You may not tell me you told me so, but my dad definitely will.”

“Well, to be fair… he told you so.” He chuckles when Theo flips him off, a scowl on his bruised face. Robin feels braver, and moves closer again.

“Do you know what happened to the bike?” he asks.

“Nope,” he sighs. “I haven’t seen that bike since I crashed it. And I kind of forgot to ask the paramedics what they were going to do with it.” He picks at the sheet. “But given how I ended up, she’s probably scrap metal by now.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know how much you loved that bike.”

“No you’re not,” he replies dryly. “You hated it.”

“No, I hated the risk attached to it. That’s different.” He finds himself, somehow, standing at the foot of Theo’s bed, his hands shoved into his pockets. He opens his mouth to say something else, but he doesn’t know what, and it feels weird. Words always came easy with Theo. That happens when you have someone you can be yourself around. When there’s no need to hide anything because you’re not afraid of what they’ll do. There was never any need for hesitation or hint of discomfort between them. Not until right now.

He doesn’t know what to say, but he doesn’t want to go either. He’ll stay until his dad comes, he decides. Until he knows Theo’s going to be okay.

And it’s probably a good thing he does, given that his ever-restless ex boyfriend grows bored of laying down and tries to push himself up, despite his beaten-up body’s protests. He gasps sharply, a short, stifled grunt escapes him, but he keeps acting as though it didn’t happen. Robin rolls his eyes and moves over to him; one hand on his arm and the other adjusting his pillows. Theo scowls again, because he would walk on broken legs before asking for help, but he doesn’t push him away.

“Here, careful… there you go.” Theo sits up against the wall, his back supported by pillows. Robin settles next to him on the mattress, watching his face for any indication that he should go. He doesn’t get one. Instead, he gets a smile, and the ghosting of fingertips along his hand.

“Thank you,” he says. “For… for coming here.”

“It’s fine,” he replies. His mouth runs dry, his heart beating louder and louder being so close to him. He’s missed him. Holy crap, he’s missed him. He’s missed him for months and it all slams into him now, like a speeding train hitting him. Theo doesn’t meet his eyes, doesn’t say anything, just keeps tracing patterns on his hand, his finger getting faster and faster by the minute. He knows him well enough to know what that means. He doesn’t push though, because finally being this close to him is something he doesn’t want to risk losing.

“Robin,” he begins after a long while. “About what I said to you-”

“It’s fine,” he says again, a little too quickly this time.

“It’s not,” he says firmly, shaking his head slightly. “It wasn’t. What I said, the way I said it…” He closes his eyes briefly, probably reliving the night they broke up. He’s recalled it countless times since then. “You didn’t deserve it. And don’t-” He holds up his finger to silence him before Robin can even say anything. “Tell me that it’s okay, you Canadian asshole. Because it wasn’t.”

He laughs at that, even if it’s short-lived. He felt bad for thinking it sometimes, but it never felt right, what Theo had said to him. Half-sentences about not wanting to hold him back, how he can’t stay and give up everything just for him. How he ended it with “I don’t want you anymore” and told him to go. Aside from maybe cheating on him, he doesn’t know how it could have been worse. Leaving him with a broken heart and so many unanswered questions.

“Okay, it was,” he says. “Thank you for apologising.” Theo smiles, barely, and his fingers move quicker against his hand. He doesn’t say anything, not out loud, but he does rest his free hand on Theo’s knee. A brave move, maybe, but also a silent signal that it’s okay. That whatever he has to say, he can say it. God knows when they’ll see each other again, so they might as well.

He must hear it, but even so it takes a lifetime for him to say “I got scared.” He leans back on the pillows, the three words having drained him, and Robin processes it.

“You got scared?” he asks. “Scared of what?”

“Of us,” he sighs. “Of you and me and… how serious it was all getting. And… and your family, and my family, and school. And it was all getting so serious and I-I freaked out.” He swallows thickly and pulls his good knee close to his chest, a small whimper escaping him. He doesn’t know if it’s from the pain or something else. “I’m sorry.”

They fall silent, and Robin digests what he said. For the past few months, he’s lived with constant confusion over their break-up, and it was just over the past week that it was slowly morphing into acceptance that Theo had just outgrown him. Now there’s this, and his view is shaken up again.

“Oh,” he replies. That might be the only thing he’s capable of saying, given how tight his throat is. He tries to clear it, only to find tears blurring his vision. “Theo… what happened?” Something comes back to him, one night near the end, with Theo over at his place. Him arguing quietly with Moth in the kitchen, her whispering that Theo will ‘ruin his life’. It hadn’t occurred to him how thin the walls in their house actually are. “Did you hear me and Moth?”

“Some of it,” he mumbles. Robin opens his mouth, a fire against Moth ready, but Theo holds up his hand, his pained expression grinding him to a halt. “It’s not just Moth though. It’s everyone else. You heard it too right?” He laughs bitterly. “When people said how weird it was that we were getting so serious so fast.”

Robin doesn’t say anything. Theo’s right; people did talk. It wasn’t because it was two boys, which for Greenedale, is saying something. It was the fact that they’d only been together a few weeks before they were staying at each other’s houses. It was that just two months into their relationship, Robin gave Theo his father’s ring. They talked even more when Robin let it slip they were looking at apartments to share for when Theo went off to college. So yes, people talked, but they weren’t listening. Or apparently, he wasn’t.

“Since when do you care what other people think?” he asks after a while.

“I don’t. But I care about you,” he says. “I care because what if they were right? Robin, you were planning on moving out of Greenedale for me.”

“Yeah, and I said I was okay with it.”

“Well what if I wasn’t?” His voice is tight, shaking, and when tears run down his red cheeks, Robin doesn’t hesitate in wiping them away. Theo leans into his touch, shivering slightly at his skin against his. His hand comes up and wraps around his wrist, his thumb rubbing against the back of Robin’s as he tries to compose himself. “What if I wasn’t okay with dragging you across the country?”

“Is that what you think you were doing?” he asks. “Theo… you weren’t dragging me anywhere. I wanted to go with you.” He swallows thickly before adding, “I still do.” Theo closes his eyes and runs his hand through his hair, his fingers catching on knots.

“Yeah I know,” he whispers, and Robin isn’t sure if he’s talking to him or to himself. “I know that now.” Theo hesitates for a moment, uncertainty in his eyes, but then he wriggles closer, despite his beaten-up body, and Robin does the same until they’re just a breath apart. Close enough for Robin to count the freckles on Theo’s cheeks. Holy crap, he loves those freckles. He loves him, every part of him.

Moth was wrong; he wasn’t lasting six months without him.

“Why did you come here?” Theo asks.

“Because I’m your emergency contact,” he reminds him.

“Mm-mm.” He shakes his head. “Roz is third on the list. You know that. You could have left it to her. Why did you come?”

“Because you were hurt,” he says, and he means it. It’s the truth, but not the whole truth, and they both know it. “Because I miss you.”

Theo laughs, and kisses the inside of his wrist.

“I miss you too,” he says, and the tears running down Robin’s face aren’t from heartbreak this time.

The kiss starts slowly, their foreheads pressed together before their lips touch. Robin moves to hold the back of Theo’s head, his free hand on his hip, still mindful of the condition his ex(?) boyfriend is in. Theo’s hand curls into Robin’s shirt, his other tangled in his hair. He feels Theo’s grin against his mouth, feels his own heart finally being put back together. Feels the weight of the past four months finally slipping away, leaving a new future open for them. Together.

But he also feels Theo’s hand shaking, his short, pained gasp against his mouth, and so he pulls away, leaving a small frown on his boyfriend’s face.

“I’m not going to make out with you on a hospital bed,” he tells him. “No matter how badly I want to.” Theo huffs a laugh and nods.

“Fair enough,” he says. He doesn’t let go of Robin’s hand though, instead linking their fingers together. “What about when I get out of here, we can maybe talk about this? About you and me and…. Everything. And I can try not to freak out this time.”

Robin pushes Theo’s hair away from his face, mindful of the bruises, and smiles.

“I’d like that.” He moves in to kiss him again, fully intending to keep it small this time, but they’re interrupted by the door opening, and a familiar, frantic voice cutting through the air.

“Theo? Oh my God, I left my phone in the house and I just got the call from the hospital, are you-”

He stops his rant just as Robin turns around, his and Theo’s faces a matching shade of red. He feels flashed back to when Mr Putnam caught them in Theo’s room, his mouth hanging open and his eyes darting between them just like he did then, waiting for an explanation. Except they’re not in Theo’s bedroom this time around, and this is the first time Joe has seen him in months, so he sympathises for him this time around.

“So…” he begins. “You two got back together?”

Theo just laughs and buries his face in Robin’s shoulder.

support me on ko-fi

#goodnam #theo x robin #theo putnam #robin goodfellow #caos #chilling adventures of sabrina #caos ff #i did a writing!!#look at me!!

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bluejayblueskies · 4 years ago

Text

philia

n. a love between friends; based on mutual respect, common values, shared desires, and unwavering trust

Words: 2.5k Relationship: Sasha James & Tim Stoker, past Sasha James/Tim Stoker Tags: Light Angst, Canon Compliant, Aromantic Sasha James, Lovers to Friends, Awkward Conversations Warnings: internalized arophobia (throughout), fear of arophobia from another character (doesn’t actually occur)

|| Ao3 ||

If one thing could be said about Sasha James, it’s this: she doesn’t scare easy. All the traditional spooks—spiders and the dark and heights and everything in between—don’t send her heart racing like they did some of her childhood friends, and when she was old enough to go to the library by herself, she slowly and methodically worked her way through the meager horror section at her disposal. She liked the way that the fear tasted, metallic in her mouth and sending gooseflesh tingling across her arms and lips, and even when she landed on a book or a movie that pushed her beyond her limits for terror, she found that she couldn’t look away, too immersed in the way that her hands shook as she turned the page.

Maybe that’s why she ended up at the Magnus Institute. When the horror began to feel stale, each story contrived beyond the point of enjoyment, where better to turn to than somewhere that collected horrors that were real?

Sasha lasted three months in Artifact Storage before she decided that she’d finally found her limit, and it was gold monocles that turned your sight inward and stainless steel knives that leaked briny blood and a chalkboard eraser that could peel the skin clean off your face with a single stroke. Her brand of horror lay in stories, not in things, she decided then. In stories, at least, the fear was contained.

The problem, though, is that it’s easy to not be afraid of stories. Even if they’re real ones, told by real people, they’re still just stories, and so Sasha can separate herself from them, lock them away in the Institute at night and return to the more mundane horrors of her television screen or her bookshelf. It’s much, much harder to not be afraid of the things she can’t escape.

Sasha James doesn’t scare easy. But when she walks into the Institute on Monday morning and sees Timothy Stoker sitting at his desk, positioned opposite to hers and in the perfect location for mid-day glances and snippets of conversation, her heart jumps into her throat so fast she thinks she might choke on it.

Sasha puts on her headphones, sits down at her desk, and doesn’t let her eyes stray from her computer screen for the rest of the day.

And the next.

Fear is a funny thing, she thinks as she stands in the shower that Friday night, letting the water drum against the back of her skull and trying to figure out why even after fifteen minutes of standing in the scalding spray, her skin still itches with unseen dirt that she can’t quite rid herself of. It can spur people to go to lengths they never thought imaginable. Like Gregory Chavez, who found he could run nearly two miles at a dead sprint when chased by a thing that had once been his son but that now craved nothing but blood and terror. Or Biah Wynn, who found it within herself to burn her family home to the ground with her brother still inside when a sharp-tongued thing from her dreams told her to.

Or Sasha James, who’s been avoiding her best friend for a week because she had sex with him and now can’t bring herself to admit that it was a mistake. Or, more accurately, to admit why it was a mistake.

Tim probably hates me now, she thinks as she tips her head back and lets the water run over her eyelids, holding her breath as it trickles over her closed lips and hits her arms where they’re crossed over her chest in a protective gesture. And he’d be right to. I kind of hate me now.

Sasha turns the shower off, laments for a moment the state of her water bill for that month, and readies herself for bed.

She allows herself to continue this way for two more days before the voice in her head manages to convince her that don’t ruin a good thing is becoming more and more of an impossibility the longer she ignores the inevitably awkward conversation that they need to have. Her resolve finally breaks through the sharp static of fear Monday evening, when Tim pushes back from his desk and Sasha says, breaking the silence with all the grace of a battering ram, “Fancy a cuppa?”

Timothy Stoker doesn’t startle easy. At the sound of Sasha’s voice, however, he jumps so badly that the file folder he’d been preparing to stow away slips from his hands, spilling loose pages on the ivory tile floor in a mess of white paper and black ink.

“Jesus,” Tim says, bending down to collect the papers. His eyes are cast firmly on the ground when he says, voice tight, “A little warning next time before you decide to break a week-long vow of silence?”

Sasha’s wince is full-body. “Sorry,” she says, trying and failing to impart a week’s worth of apologies into a single word. Then, with forced levity: “Permission to speak again?”

Tim’s quiet for a little too long. He’s collected all the papers and they sit limply in his hands as his eyes trace the lines between the tiles, lips curled down into a pained expression that Sasha hates, though she knows it’s nobody’s fault but her own. Then, quietly, he says, “I don’t know, Sasha. Maybe a week ago, the answer would have been yes? But I… I don’t know if I feel like talking now.”

Thorns of Sasha’s own design dig into her heart and claw up her throat, and she fixes her eyes on the surface of her desk. It’s full of yellow post-it notes she doesn’t remember writing and approximately twenty stray pens and pencils and a million other things that are far, far less important than the man still squatting on the floor next to her, pretending to organize the papers in his hand.

“Okay,” she says, and the word bites into her tongue with razor-sharp teeth. Then, even though she said she wouldn’t, she says, “I’m sorry, Tim. And I want to explain, if you’d let me.”

Please let me.

Tim looks at her, just once, and the hurt in his eyes cuts into Sasha like broken glass. “I… I just need some time,” he says, like Sasha hasn’t given him too much of that already, like she hasn’t already had the thought of I just need more time, more time to figure this out running through her head for days.

“Okay,” she repeats. The smile she musters up feels hollow, too full of hope to hold up to scrutiny.

“Okay,” Tim says.

Tim leaves. And Sasha works late, if only to give her mind something to do that isn’t wallowing in guilt and self-pity.

She works late Tuesday, too. And Wednesday and Thursday. Then, as her computer blinks 17:00 on Friday and she flips open another file, she hears from behind her a quietly amused, “You’re turning into Jon, you know.”

If asked later, Sasha will maintain that she didn’t startle at the sound of Tim’s voice. The file, at least, stays firmly clasped in her hand, though she sets it down before turning in her chair to see Tim standing a few feet away, jacket slung over one arm and hesitance written all over his face even as his mouth forms a teasing smile.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Sasha says, aiming for levity and coming close enough for it to count. “I don’t have nearly enough grey in my hair for that yet. Besides, you know I can’t pull off a sweater vest.”

“Not with that attitude, you can’t.”

Sasha smiles fully, letting tendrils of humor pull the corners of her mouth up toward her eyes, and the lines of tension in Tim’s face begin to smooth. The hesitance is still there, the hurt lying just beneath, but it feels a lot less like a wall and a lot more like a locked door. She just hopes that Tim still trusts her enough to give her the key.

“Fancy a cuppa?” he says.

They pick a little tea shop a few blocks away from the Institute, open later than the rest and with prices that only make Sasha wince a little bit as she orders a cup of jasmine green tea and then sits at a little corner table across from Tim, away from the hum of the rest of the café. He wraps his hands around his mug of Darjeeling, looks at Sasha, and says, “Is this the part where you say, ‘It’s not you, it’s me’?”

Sasha winces and takes a long sip of her too-hot tea to cover it up. When she pulls back, the roof of her mouth thoroughly scalded, she says, “In… a manner of speaking.”

It’s Tim’s turn to wince, though he doesn’t bury it in his tea, instead painting over it quickly with a mask that’s not so thick that Sasha can’t still see the hurt that lies beneath. “Right,” he says, and the little laugh that escapes him is entirely devoid of humor. “Guess that’s it, then. Nice and succinct—don’t know why it gets such a bad rap in rom-coms, to be honest.”

The guilt is burning its way up Sasha’s throat, hot and sticky. It’s a struggle to force herself to speak around it, but she does, because it’s important. Because it matters. Because she’s not going to lose her best friend just because she’s afraid. So, she swallows the lump in her throat just enough to say, “It’s not because I don’t want to be in a relationship with you, Tim; it’s because I don’t want to be in a relationship at all. A… a romantic one, at least.”

Tim doesn’t say anything at first, and though Sasha knows he’s just taking the time to parse her words, to understand what she’s trying to tell him—he’s ace, he told her before they… before, so he’ll know what she means—she can’t keep the anxiety from clawing up the back of her throat with acid-dipped nails. She takes a drink of her tea, and then another, until she’s staring at the bottom of her mug with her heart thrumming in the back of her throat. The sound of her own pulse in her ears is so loud that she almost doesn’t hear Tim when he says, quietly, “I’m sorry, Sasha.”

Sasha sets her mug down hard enough to chip, surprise and guilt turning her blood to liquid nitrogen and her muscles to ice. “No, please- please don’t apologize, Tim, I should be the one who- I should have told you sooner instead of- of leading you on when I was never going to reciprocate. And then you told me you were ace and I- I still didn’t say anything because- because—”

Sasha waves her now-free hand in the air wildly, grasping for a reason that just won’t come. Finally, for want of anything better, she lands on, “Because I somehow thought that was going to be the thing that you’d hate me for instead of for how I’ve been acting all week.” She deflates, ever so slightly, and says, “I am so, so sorry, Tim.”

She affixes her eyes to the table, to the spiraling wood grains that trace lines across its surface, and doesn’t let go. She can think of a million expressions Tim might be wearing right now, ranging from guilt to sympathy to frustration to hurt, and she doesn’t want to see any of them.

A hand, warm and terra-cotta brown, settles on top of hers, and Tim says, “I meant that I’m sorry for assuming that the reason you were avoiding me was about me. I should have asked sooner, but I…” He lets out a small laugh. “I suppose I thought you hated me. That I’d done something—though I couldn’t figure out what—and now you never wanted to see me again. And then I- I made it about me. Got frustrated when you wanted to talk. Didn’t even consider that there might have been something else going on.”

“Why would you have?” Sasha says quietly, eyes still glued to the table. “I didn’t give you any indication that there was. I didn’t say anything.”

Tim hums, a sad sound, and says, “I suppose neither of us did.”

It’s quiet between them for a moment. In the interim, the sounds of the café filter in: the clank of cups against countertops, the hiss of steam as it spills free from stainless steel water heaters, the chatter of those around them who are lost in their own worlds of words and wants and wishes. Then, Tim’s hand tightens around Sasha’s, almost imperceptibly, and he says, “I’ll love you any way you want me to.”

Sasha finally looks up from the table. Tim’s watching her, his eyes full of an affection so sweet it tastes of melted caramels on Sasha’s tongue. “I’ve loved you in so many ways, Sasha James, in so many times and places and moments. And I’m not going to give them all up if one of those ways isn’t something that you want from me. I’ll just put that one aside and replace it with new ones.” Tim shrugs and smiles, and it’s so casual, so easy, that Sasha thinks she must be dreaming it. “If you don’t want to date, then we won’t. And that’s not going to make me love you any less.”

Sasha looks at Tim, trying to wrangle the tendrils of emotions within her into something beyond the electrifying, giddy happiness that she feels bubbling up in her chest. What comes out, in the end, is a small laugh and a quiet, “It’s that easy?”

Tim holds up a hand. “Scout’s honor.”

“Huh.” Sasha taps a finger against the edge of her mug, feeling the press of now-cool ceramic on her skin. The smile tugging at her lips is insistent enough that she finally just lets it slip free, uninhibited by shaking hands or acid claws or rapid-fire heartbeats. It’s still a nervous thing—a fawn just learning to walk, a baby bird pushed from its nest and struggling to unfurl its wings mid-freefall, a butterfly emerging from its cocoon with stained-glass wings and a life turned upon its head. It remains so for several weeks, through the still-awkward coffee runs and the times Sasha spends curled up on Tim’s couch with the space between them burning red-hot and icy-cold in equal measure and the staggering guilt that still returns as Sasha stands in the shower or lies in bed or walks through the doors to the Institute to see Tim sat at his desk, his smile growing wider each day.

Then one day Sasha reaches for it, almost absently—that nervous feeling, the almost-falling swoop of her stomach—and finds it gone. She reaches and instead finds Tim, standing in the kitchen of her flat with flour dusted on his nose and kneading a ball of bread dough as he regales her with a story of his first tried-and-failed attempt at making bread that involved not one, but two separate fire-alarm incidents. And when she smiles at him, it feels so light and freeing that a laugh comes with it, bubbly with surprise and affection.

She spreads stained-glass wings, strong enough now to carry her weight and beautiful in their own right, and lets the wind carry her home.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #aspecarchives #the magnus archives fic #tim stoker #sasha james #asexual tim stoker #aromantic sasha james #internalized arophobia //#my fic #my writing #looks like we're keeping this posting style! i think i like it a lot better.. more readable

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imaginethathaikyuu · 4 years ago

Note

How did I find your blog? I was looking for soft Kuroo content on google. And your soft birthday hc’s for him came up. And that’s also how I found tumblr

What was the first story of yours that I read? That Kuroo piece ^

Roughly, how long have I been following this blog? Well I found that piece shortly after it was posted so…. Around the beginning of December 2019 I think. Got a tumblr a few months later and you were the first person I followed (had you in my bookmarks bar before that! (still have you in my bookmarks bar and when I share my screen in classes there are occasionally questions. I ignore them))

What’s something I’ve noticed about you personality wise? You’re really clever and funny. But you’re also sweet. But because you’re clever you have no hesitation in setting up and enforcing your boundaries, and I really admire that strength and confidence.

Have we ever interacted, either by PM, ask, or in the comments? What was my perception of you? YES!!! PM, SOOOOO many asks, comments, and you sent me an ask. And reblogged it. And I cried. A lot. My perception: you’re lovely and I want to h*ld your h*nd ….please.

What’s my favorite story of yours? Oh how to choose. Firstly, I’m a nb, biracial, bisexual. Honey, I’ve never made a choice in my life. But let’s try here. Anything you’ve written for Tsukki. Literally all of it is gold. Fight me. I was going to write “especially [piece title]” but I LITERALLY CANNOT CHOOSE ONE. Your Bokuto nightmare piece. Your Kuroo angsty fight. Your Tendou dealing with S/O with parents who yell piece. Your Kinktobers. Your Futakuchi and Mattsun pieces. And your Terushima pieces. Ugh. I CANNOT CHOOSE. OH AND YOUR STREAMER KENMA!!!!!! OKay just… all of it. I can’t choose. I tried, and I failed, and I’m willing to admit failure.

What’s a story I’d love to see you write? I don’t want to say this… because it hurts me… but I just KNOW you’d write brilliant angst. Some of my fav pieces of yours are pained beginnings with happy endings. That fight with Tsukki after a bad day at work. The pieces I mentioned above (nightmare pieces and fighting pieces and angsty home life ha.. ha.ha.ha.). That Oikawa one where the reader wakes up in bed without him and thinks he left. You write these gorgeous atmospheres and descriptive, visceral feelings, and if you chose to use it for evil…. You could get evil shit done. You’re SO powerful. So I want to read it… but also…. I don’t. I’d love to see you write ABO like you mentioned a while back or just see you explore a cutesy soulmate AU or something. I think you’d be really good at writing an AU where you hear what the other person’s listening too. I feel like you’d be so good at making me feel something for someone who was in another city. (think this would be cute with Tsukki cos he’s headphones boy, OR terushima because I like the dynamic of someone flirty, who clearly cares about looks, falling for someone he can’t see) ANYWAY….

Favorite pairing you write for?/fav reader insert? Tsukishima x reader. It’s my fav self-ship. (but also Mattsun, Bokuto, Oikawa, Tanaka, and Akaashi because you write them SO WELL!!!!)

Have any of your stories helped me through a hard time? Of course. Your self-harm piece came at a time I needed it. Iwaizumi’s in particular saved my life. But also your Tendou dealing with S/O parents who fight… came right when I needed it. Also starting college… was hard.. And reading and rereading your fluff really pulled me through it.

Have any of your stories hit closer to home? YES (see above).

Do I genuinely like your blog, it’s aesthetic or posts? It’s overall feel? It’s content? Yes. The aesthetic is, ngl, a wee bit basic. But I kinda love that. And the feel? It feels like home. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Your blog is my safe space. So, yes, I love. It’s content? YES. OF COURSE. Your personality probably could have kept me here even if your content was kinda shit, but I follow you RELIGIOUSLY because of your content. So yes. I adore.

Is English my first language? Kinda??? I grew up in a trilingual household so I kinda learned three languages at the same time while growing up. But no, I don’t need to translate it in my head. Because English was one of the three.

Anything I want to share? Yes. Please keep being kind to yourself, caring for your mental health, enforcing your boundaries, loving Akaashi, and just generally being you. You’re so lovely as you are, and I hope you continue grow, but never change. Also I’m sorry about all your work stuff…. It literally makes me feel sick. And I hope you find a job where that’s not tolerated, or that your work finds a better way of protecting it’s employees. I know you know this, but none of it is your fault. I just hope things improve. AND I love you… a lot. And I’m so proud of you hitting 9K and you deserve so many more followers because your pieces are just... GORGEOUS. I can’t wait until I’m at Barnes and Noble in a few years and I can pick up a hardback copy of your debut novel. I’m so excited to say “I knew Em Akaashi (which is your legal name as far as I’m concerned) before she was so popular among the masses.”

so ive been trying to figure out the correct and worthy way to reply to this ask since the moment i got it......because its so fucking sweet and kind and amazing and pure and perfect and i just dont know how to use WORDS to explain the way it makes me feel so.......i will just reply in bullet points in regards to every question u answered to make it a lil easier :D

- the fact that u found my blog on google ....... like this may be odd and a very specific thing but before i made this blog i always hoped that 1 day my fanfic would pop up in google searches bc thats ALWAYS how i found fics when i was reading them religiously and i felt so much ENVY!!!!! LIKE I WANTED TO BE THERE I WANTED MY FICS TO B POPULAR ENOUGH TO POP UP ON GOOGLE.....that may sound very selfish but its true......so thats just very cool to me... :]

- u’ve been here for so long omg 🥺🥺🥺🥺 if anyone in ur classes ever asks jus promo my blog like its nbd

- thats so sweet what 🥺🥺🥺 i try my best to advocate for myself and be confident for myself.....ive spent far too much of my time being silently uncomfortable because i was afraid of pushing someone’s buttons seeming rude.....but NO MORE!!!! i know what upsets me, i know my triggers, i know what i dislike experiencing, and im never gonna let myself be anxious or uncomfortable for someone else’s sake, esp if theyre being rude 2 me. i would say its less strength and confidence and moreso me attempting to take control of my anxiety in the places i can (aka on the Internet) bc i am SICK OF ANXIETY ATTACKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- BBY no dont CRY!!!! im racking my brain trying to think of who u are i wanna know so bad so i can thank u personally for being the kindest person in the world n so i can send u more asks >:(........MY HAND IS URS TO HOLD!!!!! dont tell akaashi tho

- OMG my TSUKKI pieces.....hes so hard to write why ;-; thank u so much im so glad u enjoy my works<3333

- NOT ANGST NOT LIKE THIS!!!!!!!!! pained beginnings to happy endings are my specialty.....IMAGINE me writing a sad ending like i CANT!!!!!!!!! ive only done it a few times and it is so Difficult.....YALL ARE SO LUCKY IM NOT EVIL!!!!!! ive had this idea for an angsty akaashi fic that i think about and write in my head every night before falling asleep and it Hurts and i wanna write it but i also can’t make myself :D ABO would be very fun but i genuinely do not know how to explore the concept while making it feel like it’s Written By Me.....u know what i mean? same with soulmate aus, i really dislike writing them because theyre just boring to me like they all feel the same everything’s been done for them.....which is FINE!!! but i write enough cliche stuff as it is HAHA, a long distance type soulmate au could be fun and interesting but ldr’s trigger me bc of a past relationship so </3 but hey maybe someone else could use the idea!!!!!

- gotta love tsukishima <3

- im rlly glad my writing could be there for you friend, one of the biggest reasons i write fanfic (and write the kind of fics i write) is bc i know firsthand how much reading sweet stories abt ur comfort characters can help u through the shittiest times - i just wanna offer ppl some support and happy feelings and love cuz sometimes fanfic is the only time we can find those things (and theres nothing shameful abt that either if anyone bullies u for reading fanfic i will fight them)

- I KNOW MY LAYOUT IS LAZY AND BASIC AS FUCK AND THAT IS BECAUSE I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT LMAOOOO so im glad u think its ok...... like i dont have the patience to create a fancy ass layout that actually works are u KIDDING ME??????? I COULD LITERALLY NEVER plus i kinda like that its just the basic kinda ugly boring default layout like it makes it simple and easy and i feel like it brings focus to the only thing on this blog that i care about which is my writing, i rlly only care about the content here and not aesthetics jdbljdabsdk that blue background will be there til i Die......i adore u more btw

- WHOA trilingual what the hell ur so cool tell me more

- you have my word, friend, that i will continue to do all of that so long as you do the same. take care of yourself, be kind to yourself - i know u can do it, ur so kind to others and u deserve to be kind to urself, too so this is the part that genuinely brought me to tears because *sappy dumb shit ahead* ok look ever since i can remember the one and only thing ive wanted to do with my life is become an author ...... dreams of book covers with my name written on them and words in pages written by me and fanart of my characters and going into my local bookstore n seeing my book there....these thoughts all haunt my fucking brain because i want it SO BAD!!!!!!!! so bad that it makes me CRY!!!!!!!! ive never wanted something more and just!!!!!!!!!!!! idk how much u meant that part but holy fuck!!!!!! i hope so bad that one day i can send u a free copy of my book as a thank u for being the person u are. u have all my love friend, every last bit of it <333333333

#ily<3 #long post

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callmeunstable · 5 years ago

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Angels & Demons - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Characters: Reader

Summary: She finds herself in the middle of a unknown forest after falling asleep. It seems like a normal forest until she gets to meet a mystical creature that welcomes her in a different world.

Warnings: Monsters, Cursing, Blood

Words: 2.000+

A/N: Hey! This is my first fic and I decided to place it in the universe of the greatest of the greatest. Geralt of Rivia! I don’t know where this will go 100%, but I know it’s going to be interesting. 😄 The reader starts of in our modern world and stumbles into the universe of The Witcher. I take my information mostly from the books and games but my fic is set based of the Netflix series so it’s basically beginners friendly.☺️

Disclaimer: GIF’s and PNG’s are taken from Tumblr and are not mine! Credits to the creators!

Song:

“Two face, two face, yeah Black, white, left, right, yeah Up, down, all night, yeah Can't escape it ever Don't forget my name I don't feel the same On a trip, no train“

The music made her headphones vibrate. Probably loud enough for everyone around her to hear. If there was anyone. She was alone, hiking in the forest. It was what she always did when her anxiety got the best of her. The city is loud and dirty, squeezed full with people that never look around. Never realizing what was going on in the real world. At least what that’s what they called their reality. She always thought it was foolish to believe that they were alone in this big of a universe. Impossible.

Some stones here and there made her trip but she didn’t stop. She knew where she wanted to go and she didn’t intend to stop before she reached her destination. Kicking some branches out of the way and silently passing other hikers that greeted her with waving hand. She didn’t like the people in the city. All of them were selfish and money orientated. Of course, so tried to earn some money as a health center receptionist at her university but only to keep her head above water. Her focus was on her degree in medicine. She wanted to be able to afford a good life for her and her dad.

“And all these angels and demons Keep shoutin' and screamin' I'm fallin' from Eden”

She slowed down and let herself down on the ground. Pulling her knees to her stomach and breathing in the fresh air of the trees. The pollution caused by cars and all of these different companies laying behind her. Closing her eyes and trying not to fall asleep. Her insomnia got worse on hot summer days like these. The missing air conditioning in her dorm room made it even worse. Two hours have to be enough to function. She couldn’t wait for the autumn to start. For the leaves to fall. And the crowds to shrink

“So fuck me like a rockstar, dancing on a cop car Nothin' in the world can stop me now Fucked up like a rockstar, riding in a cop car No one in the world can help me out-“

Her music was cut short and her eyes gazed at the screen. The Battery was almost empty. With an annoyed groan, she took off her backpack searching for her power bank. The only good thing summer had for her was the power of the sun being strong enough to charge the battery of the device. Still having her headphones in her ears. Just in case someone stumbled across and wanted to have a conversation. The easiest way to ignore people without seeming too harsh.

Her glance went up, analyzing anything she was able to catch. The mountains far back on the horizon hugged by a thick layer of clouds that protected them from any unwanted attention. The distance colored them in a blueish gray tone that would capture a lot of people. At least the ones who noticed and wanted to have a peerless experience.

Some strange black orbs were able to sneak into her daydream making her once again face the consequences of her lack of sleep. Slowly blinking she took a look at her watch. 2 pm. Still early. She just wanted to close her eyes for a few more minutes. To help her find her lost energy. Just in case she set her alarm for an hour and put her phone in the pocket of her pants. - “Everybody said that I'm falling, uh Took another line, I'm calling, uh I'm so sick of the nonsense, uh I'ma dive into the mosh pit, uh I don't really think I'm the problem I don't really think it's a problem Me plus me is a problem One gunshot could solve 'em Tell my friends I'm sorry though T-T-T-Tell my sins to go. And all these angels and demons Keep shoutin' and screamin' I'm fallin' from Eden”

The tones of her favorite song woke her up. Her headphones got disconnected while she was asleep. With panic caused by the rush of adrenaline, she paused the music. Taking a deep breath and enjoying the silence again. Her arms were stretched above her head and a yawn made it through her mouth. Slowly gaining back clear vision she looked up again. But something was different. The dusk was slowly setting in.

She failed to set her alarm correctly. But it could be worse, she wasn’t doing anything special today anyway. As she was standing up she looked for the mountains in the far, however, her view was blocked. Big deciduous trees rose in front of her. Maybe she fell asleep in a different place? A little far more into the forest?

She got herself up and started walking her way back. At least what she thought was the right way. Somehow everything looked a little different. As different as forests could look like. The hiker trail was gone. Slowly breathing away her risen heartbeat she tried to focus. It’s just the forest how bad can it be? She always found her way out of it. She got lost a couple of times whilst exploring new paths but still. The air felt different. Not as heavy as she was used to. The trees were able to give her better oxygen as in the city but they just couldn’t hold all of the smog back.

Her feet automatically began to walk faster and faster as time went by and nothing seemed familiar anymore. She tried to find her starting point again but that seemed rather impossible right now. There was still a lot of light left but everything seemed strange.

She started to run. Jumping over the rocks and logs that blocked her way. As she was trying to bridge over the next log she wasn’t able to see the small lowering that led to her stumbling and rolling a couple of feet down. ‘Great, just great.’

Her thoughts were sarcastic, helping her to cope with the panic rising in her throat.

She looked up and let out a short scream. Some big bright yellow eyes were looking at her from above. They belonged to a child with pale blue skin. At least it looked like a child. She didn’t dare to move one muscle, staring at the creature in front of her.

It was barely as tall as a 9-year-old and it’s skin made it look like it was suffocating. A rough crown made out of sticks sat on top of its head. It wore some pants that had seen better days. They seemed to be made out of a cheap fabric that was ripped in several places. A green scarf was hanging from its neck.

“Hello.” It could speak. His mouth was stretched to wild smile.

“It’s been some time since an ol’ villager got lost in ma forest. That was some fall you had. Are you alright?” Still staring at the creature she tried to get her words together.

“Ehm…yes I tripped and fell. I don’t think I’m hurt. Thank you.”

“Good to hear. So what’s your name? I’m James.”

She hesitated. She didn’t even know if this creature was human. She couldn’t trust just anyone.

“Alva. My name is Alva.”

“Nice to meet you, Alva. So what did ya run away from? Thought the Drowners were after ya.” Drowners? What the fuck are Drowners?

“Yeah so. Excuse me the question but you seem rather … blue?” She was scared to ask something like this but this little creature seemed friendly.

“Oh that. Have you never seen a good ol’ Godling? Because that’s just what I am indeed.” The little boy laughed and seemed to be happy to have found some company.

“That is a Godling?”

“You never heard of us amazing Godling?”

The little blue boy explained to her that Godlings are woodland creatures dwelling in burrows and moss-covered hollow stumps on the outskirts of human settlements. They are deeply rooted in their home territory and perform acts of care and guardianship to those dwelling near their burrows. They watch over people as well as animals, but, shy creatures by nature, they try to do so while remaining unseen. Godlings are drawn to joy and innocence, and so delight in the company of children and usually only show themselves to the young.

“That’s why I am talking to ya. You seem fun. At least you look funny.” The boy started to walk around her while lifting her flannel and poking her skin.

‘He’s the one looking like a tall version of a smurf. What is he talking about?’ Her thought rushes inside of her head, making her regaining the feeling of dizziness.

“So you’re telling me you’re some kind of magical creature as in Harry Potter?” The girl tried to order her thoughts by sitting down and trying to hold on to the facts the little guy was telling her. Maybe she was in a coma? Or dreaming? Possibly. These are the only explanations she could come up with.

“I don’t know anyone called Harry Potter. Is he a friend of yours?”

“Ok, listen up. You’re probably just part of my imagination so why don’t we have some fun while it lasts?” As long as she sleeping and lucid dreaming she could at least make the best out of it.

“Yes, let’s have some fun! I love singing, I love music! I heard some strange melody coming from your direction. That’s how I found you.” James started to do some little happy jumps and clapping.

“Oh, you mean this?” Alva took her phone out of her pocket and showed it to him.

“What witchy device is that suppose to be?”

“No magic. Technology. Let me show you.” She pressed on some Icons and song from earlier continued.

“So fuck me like a rockstar, dancing on a cop car Nothin' in the world can stop me now Fucked up like a rockstar, riding in a cop car No one in the world can help me out.”

The little one danced to the music and showed off some rather random dance moves. Spinning in circles, jumping up and down and throwing his hands in the air.

Still thinking of her lucid dreaming she joined her little Godling friend. Turning the music louder and louder they enjoyed themselves.

Until a growl broke the peace of the music. But both James and Alva were to focused on having von dancing to notice some strange noises. They didn’t hear it, down to the moment when the girl got hit by something sharp, making her fall to the ground.

“Don’t stop dancing Alva, you’re no fun.” The Godling still didn’t realize that Alva was sitting on the ground covering her bleeding upper arm with her hand. Looking up she saw the scariest creature she could’ve imagined.

In front of her is standing a sickly blue or green colored human, with slime and sludge oozing out of every pore and the acrid stench of rot wafting off of it. No, that wasn’t a human.

“James! What the fuck is that?” The girl cried for help.

Finally objectifying the situation, James was hurrying towards the creature when it rose its arm for another attack.

Covering her face Alva started to realize that this is the moment she was going to die. You can’t get hurt in a dream. That is just not possible. Her arm was on fire, giving her a pain she never had felt in her entire life. This was real. Waiting for the next hit but it never came.

Slowly she opened her eyes to see only James in front of her. The monster not in sight.

“Where did he-?” Completely shocked by the situation and being unable to talk, Alva starred at the boy.

“Don’t underestimate the power of a Godling. Nothing comes between me and my forest. And since you stumbled in it you’re a part of it.” He looked down at her bleeding arm and his eyebrows furrowed.

“You need a healer. As much as I’d love to I can’t heal it.”

The words barely got to the girl. She was scared for her life. She never believed something like this could happen. But one thing she knew for sure. This wasn’t her reality.

“And all these angels and demons Keep shoutin' and screamin' I'm falling from Eden.”

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shad0ww0rlder · 5 years ago

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Hi everyone! So a few weeks ago, @julemmaes messaged me and asked me if I would be interested in a project for World Autism Awareness Day, which is today, April 2. Since Ty Blackthorn from The Shadowhunter Chronicles is supposedly an autistic character, the idea was to write something or draw something or make an edit about him. So here's my contribution!

Even though it is from Kit's perspective, I hope I'm able to convey the purpose of this project. Enjoy! :)

The Postcard

Kit Herondale was having his usual saw that movie/read that book fight with Tessa as both of them prepared the breakfast. Tessa appeared to be mixing some gross-looking, bland paste for Mina, which Kit knew Mina would throw away or spit out the moment it neared her mouth. And then Jem would make a loving comment about how his lovely little daughter was actually a wee little devil and Tessa and Jem would share a sappy smile, but after a while Tessa would get annoyed and hand the responsibility of feeding Mina to Kit. They had recently discovered that Choo- Choo train or airplane noises were much more believable when they came from Kit’s mouth, because both Tessa and Jem were 150 years old, and Jem had never even been on an airplane before. Kit usually offered one of his fingers to Mina, and she would clutch it tightly in her tiny hand and look at him with excitement bubbling in her large, sparkly eyes as he made train and plane noised and zoomed the spoon near her mouth. She would let out a peal of laughter and Kit would snatch that moment to stuff the food in her mouth. Tessa claimed that she was immensely grateful for his help, and it made Kit feel that he was useful, so even though he complained about his task everyday, he secretly loved it.

The door opened and Jem entered with Mina in his arms from their morning stroll. “Good morning, my love,” he said to Tessa with that quiet, beautiful smile and bent down to kiss her cheek. Mina leapt forward from his arms to catch Kit’s finger. Kit grinned down at her. “Hey there, Min-Min. How was your trip?” Mina made babbling noises and Jam ruffled Kit’s hair.

“Min-Min has a present for her favorite brother, doesn’t she?” Jem said with a grin and Kit looked at him in surprise. “Oh, did that bakery woman’s sister give me her number? I mean, it’s cool that she called me a beast, but I don’t really want her number.”

Perhaps if he took the number, he could make a new friend. But Kit didn’t want to. The thing that had happened with his previous friends still made his chest hurt at the mere thought of it. A vivid image of Ty’s beautiful curls bathed in the silvery light of the ritual and his intense grey eyes flashed in Kit’s mind and he brought himself back to the present with great effort.

“- something even better,” Jem was saying, “here,” he said and in his other hand which wasn’t holding Mina, he held a small rectangular piece of paper. Kit blinked. “A… letter?” He said dubiously, not quite believing what he was seeing. “It’s a postcard,” said Jem and he gave it to Kit, who automatically took it without being aware of his action. “It’s for you.” From the corner of his eyes, Kit saw Tessa and Jem share a curious glance and he turned away, shielding the postcard from their sight.

The postcard had a beautiful photograph of a mysterious landscape printed on it. Kit stared at it intently. It wasn’t a place that he’d ever seen. The picture was taken some time after sunset, and the sky was inky blue. The silhouettes of the mountains were dark and ragged and beneath them lay a bottomless, dim lake with water as still as a rock. Who had sent it? Kit thought, rolling the question in his mind, over and over. Magnus, perhaps? But why would it be addressed to him, then? Magnus was a friend of Jem and Tessa, and though Kit liked Magnus, he was sure that Magnus was definitely not interested in being his pen pal. Jace perhaps, he thought, but Jace had made no efforts to reach out to Kit again. Kit wasn’t upset about it at all. Kit was happy. With Jem and Tessa and Mina. Kit’s fingers slowly turned the card over and his heart came to a screeching halt as he saw the neat, elegant handwriting.

It was as though his brain had forgotten how to breathe, his heart had forgotten how to beat and his fingers shook and his throat felt dry. Kit touched his face numbly as he felt something on his cheek and realised with a start that they were tears. He wiped them quickly, as discreetly as possible and then began reading the letter, his eyes devouring every word in front of him as fast as they could.

Dear Christopher,

Ty had written. Ty, Ty, Ty. Simply looking at his name scrawled in Ty’s handwriting was enough to make Kit’s guts clench. He recalled how Ty wrote, how he took notes and scribbled down observations in that little notebook, how the pen moved smoothly and the ink flowed easily from his pale, nimble fingers, how his hair fell in his eyes as they were intensely focused on their task; the sheer serenity of Ty’s presence. Kit took a shuddering breath and read on.

I was about to write Watson instead of Christopher, as I used to call you when we were together a while back. However, my twin Livia insists that since this is the first interaction we are having in a long time, I should address you by your Christian name. And now she is admonishing me for sounding too formal.

There is not much space on this postcard, and therefore my handwriting is infinitesimally small. I must apologize for it. Magnus delivered the necklace you sent for Livvy and I. Livvy says it is very pretty. I would like to thank you for it. I have been noting down various observations about Livvy’s ghost form. This necklace will allow me to study the effect of its magical qualities upon Livvy.

I am afraid that I must take your leave now, as according to my schedule, I have to feed Irene.

I thank you sincerely for the necklace.

Much obliged,

Tiberius Blackthorn.

Kit ran his eyes wildly over the postcard again. It had already reached its end. Kit didn’t want it to. Absentmindedly, he ran his fingers softly over Ty’s beautiful, precise handwriting, and couldn’t help but smile. No one used this kind of language now, not even Jem and Tessa. But Ty did. Ty had gotten Kit’s necklace. It would help Ty. It would protect him and Livvy now, which was something Kit had failed to do.

Kit read the letter again and again and again. It was so short.

Ty seemed happy. He had made a schedule for himself, it appeared, at Scholomance, and knowing Ty, he would follow it religiously every day. Kit remembered how uneasy Ty got when something was out of line or when something unusual happened. Ty’s hands would flutter at his sides like butterflies or he would play with the lighter Julian had got him. If it got too much, he would put on his headphones and block out the world that was too bright, too harsh, too noisy for him.

The night at the London Institute flashed in Kit’s mind like a lightning bolt, how it felt to hug Ty, how soft Ty’s hair was, how devastatingly clear and true those vivid grey eyes were. And then Kit remembered another night by the lake in Idris, and his own hand on Ty’s shoulder and his own words echoing in the empty space, “I love you, Ty. I love you.” Kit also recalled seeing Ty on the beach with Dru, Livvy floating beside them silently. He had seemed so much at peace, Kit had not been able to bring himself to say goodbye to him. And now Ty had written to him. After months and months of silence, Ty had written to him.

Kit squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Kit?” he heard a gentle voice say and opened his eyes to meet Tessa’s concerned ones. Kit blinked multiple times.

“I’m going out,” was all that he managed to say with a tight throat before rushing out of the house and running wildy along the familiar path towards the hill.

The air was chilly, and the wind bit at his face, making his eyes and nose water but Kit didn’t stop running for a long time.

#TyBProject #TBP #ty blackthorn #kit herondale #the dark artifices #the wicked powers #the shadowhunter chronicles #cassandra clare

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buckyreaderrecs · 5 years ago

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It’s Been A Long Long Time

Summary: Bucky and Steve went to war. When they came back, you were gone. But, you know, maybe you're a lot like them, and will show up years later all not-dead and on-ice.

Words: 3,405 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, Sam Wilson, F.R.I.D.A.Y., T'Challa, Tony Stark, Shuri Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame never happened), Stark Tower is still a thing, technically a song fic, angst, sad Bucky, Nat and Howard are mentioned but not in scenes, how shit are Hydra though, happy ending, she/her pronouns Warnings: references to canon-typical violence but no violent scenes, discussion of Hydra/Nazis

Note: This is written for @maarrvveell's challenge. My prompt was the song It's Been A Long Long Time (Harry James and Kitty Kallen version, 1945), but I also used the song I Concentrate On You (1940) in a couple scenes. Roz, I hope ya love it!

Tag list (open): @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas (not sure if you want to be tagged in new fics @animegirlgeeky?) (the tumblr formally known as @darlingtholland - where did you go? what’s your URL now?!)

EDIT: Accidentally had all the Y/N replaced with my name because of the Chrome extension. Hopefully fixed, but if you see Rhiannon pop up, please let me know so I can edit. Embarrassing lol.

It’s Been A Long Long Time

1942

The man has a German accent and that reassures you. Steve had said Erskine was European, but was it German? You can't remember, but either way, the man holding the clipboard has a strange kindness to his face. He doesn't look like he could hurt a fly, small and pink.

"I just want to do my part," you tell him, answering why you had responded to the flyer posted around Brooklyn. "It's war, ya know? Everyone is doing something…"

Despite what he had done, you knew Steve would have never let you volunteer for this. However, Steve isn't here to stop you. He had let you cry on his shoulder for days following Bucky's departure. He had said you would at least have him. And then, he left too. So, fuck Steve Rogers.

Fuck Bucky Barnes and his parting kiss to the lips and promises of love letters in the mail.

Fuck Hitler and his psychopathy and war starting bullshit.

You were going to help, even if it meant like this. The boys could yell at you when it was all over.

…

2019, December

Bucky watches the flames lick up and around the journal. He times how long it takes to burn down to ash. Opening the fresh book in his lap, he begins by recording that time. Each journal begins like this. Bucky doesn't know why he does it. Although, his general preoccupation with the concept of time is a little easier to explain. Bucky Barnes is one of the few people on Earth that has a very personal and turbulent relationship with time. It does not pass for him like it does everyone else. It doesn't age him like everyone else. He isn't even sure it properly exists like everyone else does. It is only natural therefore, that Bucky thinks about time a lot. It is easy to get lost in the past.

Don't get him wrong though - Bucky does not want to return to anything behind him. He doesn't miss it. Not Hydra. Not Nazis. Not the Great Depression. There's only one thing that keeps pulling him in reverse.

You.

He dreams of you most nights. Sometimes they are heavenly trips into the best days he'd had with you. Sometimes they are hollow nightmares with teeth falling out and black blood. Sleep feels empty if you are not there. Sleep has been empty since the news had been delivered years and years ago.

After being rescued and then recruited into The Howling Commandoes, Bucky could see that Steve wasn't telling him everything. And there was so much to tell. "What is it, Stevie?" he asked, turning his empty shot glass upside down on the bar and looking at Steve. (Bucky kept accidentally looking down at Steve, forgetting his eyes were waaayyy up there.)

"It's… It's Y/N, Buck…"

Bucky felt his blood run cold. He thought the worst had happened. Steve had changed. He'd been tortured. The worst… You were meant to be safe at home. But you were too much like Steve.

When he was sure he was alone, Bucky cried and cried and cried until there was only an emptiness left in him. It made him a better soldier, he told himself.

F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice pulls Bucky from the memory of you. Something has been going on in the tower; people have been buzzing around all day, all hush hush. They avoid eye contact with him, but that's pretty standard. To get away from it all, he climbed to his secret little spot on the roof. Just enough room for a metal bin to burn things in, and an old office chair with a broken wheel that he found discarded in a hallway.

Bucky's surprised to learn that F.R.I.D.A.Y. could even find him here. He pulls his headphones from his ears, pausing Harry James and Kitty Kallen and sighing.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you, Sergeant Barnes, but this does qualify as an emergency," F.R.I.D.A.Y. says. Where the hell is her voice even coming from?

"Tell 'em I'm on my way," Bucky replies.

Bucky navigates his way to a room in which everyone knows what is happening. All eyes are on him as he enters the room. Without needing to overtly look around, Bucky clocks most of the Avengers as being present, as well as some other agents. He takes a seat in the chair clearly meant for him; Sam and Steve flank his sides. As he sits, most of the room empties. It's disconcerting at best.

For only a second, Bucky considers playing along. He's tired though. He needs to be alone.

"What is it?" he asks, his voice the saddest Steve has heard in a while.

"Ah, as you know.. Last week we sent scouts to recon the potential Hydra base… the one under Baltimore," Steve begins.

As soon as the word Hydra hits the air Bucky knows it means they found something. And something is never good. Possible items include files documenting the graphic nature of The Winter Soldier's breaking in, training, and treatment; evidence of the crimes committed by The Winter Soldier; or worse, video footage of any of the above.

"It definitely was Hydra. It was part of their science division. From the looks of what's there, they left in a hurry. Most of it is caved in. Not sure how that happened yet… There were no S.H.I.E.L.D. records of the place,"

"Get to the point, Steve," Bucky says, impatient. Hydra cells are everywhere; the ghosts of them pop up semi-regularly. Empty buildings with blood on the walls and stories to tell.

"They were studying Erskine… or, or the serum. Trying to replicate it…"

"We know that already,"

"Yeah. But… This place, they were close enough to… us, to New York, Brooklyn, to use the 'Captain America' story," Steve is starting to struggle. He uses air quotes for Captain America, disenfranchised. Whatever they found, Bucky thinks, it's bad. "They used it to… lure people… It's, it's where they experimented on people, Buck. But, ah, it's… It's where they worked out how to freeze people and keep them alive… They were preparing for-"

"Me… Working out how to freeze me?"

"Not you, exactly. There's no files on you. Just the Wint-" Steve tries but fails.

"It's the same thing, Steve. So… what? There were some files and some skeletons? What's-"

"They're still there," Steve interrupts, answering the question before Bucky can ask. "Three people still in cryo. Alive."

…

1944

"The resources have… been exhausted. We've searched everywhere, Sergeant. I'm afraid-"

"I got it. She's dead. Ain't coming back," Bucky interrupts Peggy before she can deliver what would be Bucky's final blow.

"Buck-"

"Don't. Don't say anything, Steve."

Steve thinks if he'd just stayed home, you'd probably be home too. He wonders if Bucky is thinking the same thing. "Everyone said you were gone and I found you," he offers, tries for logic.

"I wasn't missing for years. I didn't disappear into thin fuckin' air. You knew where I was… We have no idea where Y/N is. No idea when… when she… left or… was taken or-Christ! We don't know shit, Steve. 'Cept that she's gone."

Steve knows Bucky well enough to usher Peggy from the tent, leave his heartbroken best friend to scream into a pillow until he's taken by restless sleep in the gloaming. Until then, Bucky goes over it all again and again. He doesn't blame Peggy; she's spent so much time stealing manpower and resources from Stark and the government and whoever in an attempt to find you. He doesn't blame Steve; there's just no guarantee that if he had stayed in Brooklyn he would have been able to protect you.

Protect you.

Protect you from what?

There are a million and one scenarios in Bucky's head. Murderers. Nazis. Nightmares. All of them, nightmares. What happened to you? Where did you go?

…

2019, December

Bucky shakes his head. Something in him is putting the pieces together, informing his central nervous system to prepare for fight or flight. That something is deep down though, ignored. He crosses his arms over his chest and holds his breath.

"There are other cryo chambers… but they were damaged in the cave in, we figure. They're still trying to work out how they've been powered this long. There's all sorts of tech we've never seen. Tony's having a field day." Steve doesn't know he's rambling, getting side tracked.

"Wait. Stop. Go back. What do you mean lure people? What people?" Bucky asks, the questioning coming from that deep down something. He's trying to keep it buried, but it's bubbling, boiling.

Steve's eyes flick over to Sam, behind Bucky. It annoys Bucky, and the sharp intake of breath through his nose lets Steve know it.

Sam says, "Hydra, Buck. They told people they were like Stark… the first one, and Agent Carter… also the first one." Bucky swings his chair around. "They told people they were the good guys tryin' to make more Captain Americas… Regular people signed up."

Boiling. Bubbling.

Bucky can feel it rising. It's in his spine, climbing up the vertebra. It reaches the back of his neck, and goes cold. Prickly. Boiling. Hot. Now it's in his head and he can't get it out. He knows. The thought is right there, smack bang in the middle of his brain. He knows where you are.

He is up, the chair knocked over, before Sam and Steve can even begin to reach for him. Sam stays seated, knowing what usually spooks triggered soldiers. Steve stands, but stops when Bucky does. And, Bucky does stop himself from running, even though he wants to just fucking bolt. Instead, he's in the corner of the room, back to wall and head pounding. Steve is a couple steps away.

"We're transporting them now, to Wakanda. Shuri and Stark are our best bet at pulling them out alive," Steve says, hoping information will help. "We know who… who one of the men is. Nat is good at finding people…" When Bucky says nothing, does nothing, Steve continues. "And, ah, the other man is a John Doe… still seeing if…" There's no point. Steve gives up, drops to crouch in front of Bucky.

"It's her, Buck. It's Y/N… Don't know what the odds of that are…" he whispers.

"When you said she was too much like Steve, didn't think you meant turns up decades later frozen," Sam risks. Both Bucky and Steve look up at him. He shrugs. "I know this is a lot, man," he says to Bucky. "But this is good. At the very least, it's closure. You know where she is,"

"I know where she is," Bucky repeats, his voice so low is barely audible. He looks at Steve, blue eyes glossed over and so, so hurt. "I know where she is, Steve."

…

1940

"It's not going to stop, Buck," you say, the dread in your stomach sticky.

"Darlin'…"

"No! Don't 'darling' me. It's not going to stop and it's going to come here and they're going to send you to war."

The end of your sentence coincides with the end of the song. The record is silent, save for the crackling intermission. Music is always playing in the small apartment you share with Bucky and Steve. It keeps you all sane.

For only a second, you see the same dread you feel flash across Bucky's beautiful face. It's gone so fast though. He holds a hand out to you, and you feel compelled to take it. The next song begins.

"Y/N, I promise ya, everything is gonna be fine… And… And if war comes, and they make me go, I will come back. Can't get rid of me that easy,"

"You can't promise that,"

"I can do what I want. I'm a free man. Got a beautiful girl. Got my health. Got music," Bucky says, and he's not sure if he's trying to convince only you.

Bucky leads the slow dance, half singing along. The song is new, but it resonates. Whenever skies look grey to me, and trouble begins to brew… Whenever the winter winds become too strong, I concentrate on you.

"I love you, James Buchanan Barnes,"

"I fuckin' love you too."

When fortune cries 'Nay! Nay!' to me, and people declare 'You're through!' Whenever the blues become my only song… I concentrate on you.

…

2020, January

Steve and Sam stand on a balcony and watch as Bucky crosses a field. He disappears into trees, his arrival prompting birds to squawk and fly away, disturbed at the loud intrusion.

"He used to go into those woods, when we hosted him," T'Challa says, appearing behind them. "It's where the White Wolf was born. The children heard a howling, but only a man would emerge."

The men return to the lab, debrief with Shuri and Tony.

"His cells weren't stable," Shuri says.

"He basically turned to soup," Tony adds.

"Who do we tell?" Sam asks. The room look to him, confused. "Don't we have to tell someone…? That we found a man… and turned him to-"

"Soup," Tony finishes. "Nobody cares what we do," he says too casually.

"Bucky cares," Steve corrects, harshly but not unnecessarily so. "This isn't a game, Tony. We don't know who he was, but we know the others. We know Y/N. We have to try harder."

…

2020, March

"He looks…" but Steve isn't sure how to describe the man sitting on the bed in the room in front of him.

On Steve's left is Sam, then Bucky. They both have their arms folded across their chests, stances identical. On Steve's right is Shuri, then Tony. All five of them are watching the man through a two-way mirror; he's not moved in an hour. He's barely moved all day.

"Like a zombie?" Sam suggests.

"At least he's not soup," Tony offers cheerfully.

"Go do your sad boy whispering," Shuri calls over to Sam, who shoots her a look.

"I'm not a damn therapist. You're the white boy fixer," he quips. They share a grin.

"There's nothing wrong though? He's brain is fried or anything?" Bucky asks, his tone serious and his gaze not moving from the man. The very alive man that represents more hope than he's ever had about anything. He's fucking terrified.

"Nothing wrong with his brain," Tony confirms. "Just needs to talk it out. Get some help." And with that, he walks from the room. Shuri follows, glancing at Bucky, hoping he's alright.

Team Cap stays quiet for a little longer, then Sam sighs and shakes out his arms and legs. "Alright. Well… That's it then. We can wake her up,"

"Not yet," Bucky says quickly.

Sam looks at Steve, who gives Bucky a sympathetic look.

"I'm not bringing her back if something's gonna happen… Not bringing her back yet."

Nobody argues.

Everybody will wait as long as Bucky needs.

…

2020, May

Never thought you would be standing here so close to me.

Noise cancelling headphones are one of Bucky's many favourite things about the future, about now. He can drown out the rest of the world. Of course, he'd never be as bold as to say digital was better than a crackling record, but fuuuuck, this sound is crystal clear.

There's so much I feel I should say, but words can wait until some other day.

Bucky holds vigil next to the cryo chamber you're still dead to the world in. He sits, headphones on, almost as still as you. He studies your face, proud that he hasn’t forgotten a single detail of you.

A tap on the shoulder startles him, he's up and in a defensive position in a split second. Steve doesn't know where Buck pulled the knife from, but he's not surprised to see it. Bucky relaxes, pushes his headphones off to sit around his neck.

"Will's been home a while, Buck. Regular check-ups. He's fine…"

Bucky doesn't reply, just sits back down and returns to watching you. Steve pulls up a chair next to him. He thinks that you look peaceful. He hopes, hopes to fucking God, that you were treated well.

When William came to and found his mind again, he was almost more shocked to hear the people that put him in the chamber were the bad guys than he was to hear it was 2020. "They were nothin' but gentlemen," he said, a thick Brooklyn accent straight from Steve and Bucky's past. He didn't recognise your picture though. "Ain't seen a single dame. Must've separated the ladies," he said with a shrug, then went back to fawning over Captain America.

Bucky didn't recognise the version of Hydra that William knew.

"Shuri says-"

"I know," Bucky interrupts. "She told me. More dangerous keepin' her like this… Just… one more day, okay?" Bucky puts his headphones back on before he gets an answer.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice. Then kiss me again.

…

2020, May, three days later

Your hand is warm in Bucky's. He rubs his thumb over your wrist, feeling your pulse. He knows where you are, and you are here.

Slowly, you wake. The first sign is your eyes opening, focusing on the bright room. Confusion is written all over your face. Then, as you move your head to the side, you see him. The confusion switches to recognition, but back to confusion just as quickly.

Bucky. It's Bucky. But he's... different. His hair is long, pulled into a bun on his head. Imagine what everyone will be saying about that! He's bigger too, more stocky. His clothes are strange and the look on his face is something you've not ever seen... It's not a look you've known on him or anybody else.

"Bucky?" you say, but your voice is dry and croaky. "What... What are you doing here?"

He sucks his lip in and you watch his eyes begin to water.

….

2021

"It's all so… loud…" you say, frowning in a way that shouldn't be cute to Bucky, but it definitely is.

"I know. But trust me on this one," Bucky promises, searching through his Spotify app.

"Does it have our song?"

When Bucky looks up at you, expression blank, you think he doesn't remember. Then, he speaks. "I… I haven't… haven't looked." He remembers. He remembers dancing with you in the kitchen, singing about grey skies and brewing trouble. Bucky hadn't let himself think about it. It was too heavy with foreshadowing and it was a moment too perfect to have let himself think of as real. "But… this one is from '45, so… end of the war. And… ah, it's… You'll like it… Found it!"

You take the headphones being offered and carefully sit them on your head, still convinced you look ridiculous. How can everyone walk around with these giant things on their head? Then, the song starts. And, of course, Bucky's right; it isn't too loud or too fast. It's born of the same time as you.

It's been a long, long time. Haven't felt like this, my dear, since I can't remember when.

Bucky watches you listening. You watch him back.

You'll never know how many dreams I've dreamed about you. Or just how empty they all seemed without you.

"Is this our song now?" you ask him.

"I listen to it a lot,"

"It's sad," you reply.

Bucky shrugs. "Nah, darling. It's a happy ending. Come 'ere." He pulls you into a hug, smothering you between his arms and hair and everything. He's a mess. He's been a mess for a while, apparently.

Worming your way back into fresh air, you look up at him. He's smiling, and it makes you smile.

"I love you," you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose.

So kiss me once. Then kiss me twice.

"I love you too."

He presses his forehead to yours and leans in, rubbing his nose along yours. It's painful, you know. While you were sleeping, Bucky had lived too many lives. You'd been missing him for a few months, he's been missing you for what felt like forever.

Bucky repeats himself. "I love you, so, so much."

His kisses taste the same.

Then kiss me once again. It's been a long, long time.

#Bucky Barnes #mine #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes/You #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky Barnes/Y/N #Bucky Barnes/Reader #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Marvel fanfic #Marvel #roz'schallenge

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sitontheground · 5 years ago

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#WitchesForBLM

So, I know I don't exactly post much, if at all, but in light of recent events in the US the majority of witches on both tumblr and tik tok have decided that on Friday June 5th, we were all going to be casting spells of protection for the protesters as well as hexing and cursing the cops and the white supremacists who oppose them.

While I am not American (I'm from Canada) nor am I a person of color but I have always been one for activism and fighting for the rights of those whose voices aren't heard or are purposefully silenced. I don't post about it because I don't post much of anything at all. This platform, for me, isn't about making my voice heard but appreciating others' work and words. I also don't particularly care for speaking about my craft much because it is something I find very personal and don't much wish to have others peering in on my personal affairs.

And yet, despite my private nature and lack of desire to post about my activism, I have made the decision to share what I did during the full moon to work this cause into my craft.

For any who have questions or complaints about how I did what I did or why, my craft is my own and I just follow what feels right. If you try and do or say anything to me that I feel is in anyway attacking me and my practice I'm just going to block you. You have no place sticking your nose in my work and I'll not thank you for it.

My Full Moon BLM Support Ritual

As a preface, a lot of the ingredients and items I used were already prepared. Most by happenstance as they are things that I typically keep on hand. The only thing I didn't have in my back pocket before I began was one of the sigils I used.

I also meditated facing the south. Facing the direction of the people I wanted to protect.

Ingredients:

Charged water (I used storm water*)

Charged crystal (I used my fluorite point for the reason that it often amplifies my emotions*)

Needle

Black thread

Orange paper**

Purple paper**

Stick of charcoal (for drawing)

Sigil of protection

Sigil to hex the oppressors

Sachet of protection powder***

Music to increase emotion**** (optional, to be played during both halves of the ritual)

Note: both of the sigils that I used will be shown below

I started when I heard whispers from the witchblr community members that I follow about the full moon being used to help the protesters. That day there was a storm where I live so I was already collecting storm water, but I made sure to separate some for the specific intent of using it on the full moon.

Friday night, I gathered my ingredients and created a sigil for protecting the protesters. I am aware that the eclipse would likely have a negative effect on most protection spells, but the spell I used was one that I created and use without the power of the full moon more often than not. The power of the spell comes entirely from a sacrifice I make for it, which I will explain in more detail later.

Take the storm water, the sigil of protection and the protection powder.

Meditate on the sigil to charge it.

Take a pinch of the powder (A Pinch. You don't need more than that!!!) and sprinkle it in the water.

Swirl the water clockwise 3 times to increase the power of the powder while mixing it in (I had the water in a small Mason jar with a lid so I could swirl it in large movements to incorporate the powder properly without spilling)

Take your right index finger and dip it in the water

Drip 3 drops onto the paper with the sigil

Meditate on the sigil again, focusing on the power of the water sinking into the lines of the sigil

Drink the water with the protection powder to cast the spell

Fold the paper with the sigil on it 3 times, being careful not to rip the wet paper, and leave it in a window or outside until daylight.

Note: the protection powder tastes Bad. Really really really bad. This is why a pinch is more than enough. I usually keep something around to wash the taste out of my mouth when everything is all said and done. This time I used hibiscus water, but usually I use tea.

And that's all there is to the first part of the ritual. Really that can be done at anytime for anyone as long as you have a sigil that corresponds with them.

The next part of this was the part where I actually drew upon the power of the moon.

Take the other sigil, the needle and black thread, and the charged crystal.

Meditate with the crystal in your dominant hand and the hexing sigil in your other focusing on the power that the crystal is feeding into you and pushing it out with your intent through the sigil in order to truly focus the energy you're sending out.

Tear the paper with the sigil on it in until it is in small pieces. As you rend it apart, feel the fire of your anger and the anger of all those fighting for this cause and send it out into the world with every tear in the paper.

Using the needle and the black thread, pierce the center of every piece of the paper until they are all strung up.

Bring all of the pieces together on the string and wrap the thread around the 3 times

Tie a knot in the thread.

Wrap the thread and tie the knot 2 more times.

Cut the thread and cast away the bundle of thread and paper however you see fit (burning, burying, tossing in the trash. whatever works for you)

And that’s that on that. I began my work at midnight on the full moon and when I was finished I was exhausted. I had a headache and my hands were shaking and I just wanted to crawl into my bed so much that I almost forgot to ground myself at the end which would have made everything so much worse the next time I woke. If I were to do it again, and I probably will, I’d make sure to give myself some time in between spells, which I did not in this case. In fact, I’d suggest that if you were to attempt something similar to this you should do them completely separately. However, due to that fact that the moon was in Gemini it felt right for me to complete two spells during it.

And now onto the notes.

*In regards to my choices of charged water and crystal, I have to note that I base my practice by what feels right at the moment. I’ve gone into spells with something in my hand that, by the time I get around to using it during the casting process, it no longer feels like the right tool/ingredient to use and I have gone to find what does feel right, or at least what feels best. The use of storm water has to due with how the chaos and anger that comes from the people on the front lines of this movement feels to me like a storm overhead. They were patient and they brewed this storm for centuries, waiting for us to notice it and do something to lessen the blow that it would cause. But eventually, as all storm must, the thunder rang out and the sweeping gales of wind told everyone just what was going on. Storm water, for this particular variation of my protection spell, seemed very appropriate. I used my fluorite point because whenever I’m working a particularly emotional spell, whether it is my emotion or someone else’s, I use this crystal because it amplifies what I’m feeling and it gives that emotion power.

Also this is my fluorite point.

**As most will suspect, the colors of the paper do signify different things, but if you don’t just happen to have colored paper hanging around white paper would work too. Again this was something that I just figured felt right at the time. I used the purple paper for the protection sigil. Purple, to me, is a regal color that signifies wisdom, power and good fortune. I used the orange paper for the hexing sigil because orange is the most infuriating and aggressive color I could think of (psychologically speaking the color orange is the most likely to send a person into a fit of rage).

***Alright, so for most of the above I have been rather vague when it comes to the protection powder, but that’s because it is a recipe of my own creation that I have reliably used for a couple of years now and I’m proud of it. It was one of the first things I ever did when I started my craft and I haven’t ever felt like something that I should spread to the masses. Now, however, I don’t feel that same hesitation when it comes to giving the recipe so here it is.

1 part garlic powder

1 part cumin

2 parts cinnamon

1 park Himalayan pink salt

1 sprig of cedar, dried and crushed as small as you can make it

When I first made this recipe, I didn’t do anything with it besides mix it all together and put it in a small velvet bag that I got with an old pair of headphones. I soon learned that just mixing together a couple of spices doesn’t exactly create a protection spell and thought it a failure. right as I was about to tear the page with the recipe from my spell book, I decided to meditate on it for a while. That night, I took the little bag with the powder into both of my hands and began to meditate. When I came out of it, I realized that 4 hours had passed by and I could feel the energy from the powder in the bag. So, to make long stories short, you have to key this powder to yourself first. Since then, I have used it as a protection for others by using the same powder that I mixed a couple of years ago that has protected me for that long. I take some of that powder and, using the charged water, I key it to the other that I want to protect, and then by drinking the water I am sacrificing the strength of my protection spell in order to cast one on someone else. This is why I didn’t see an issue doing this spell during the eclipse, which I have read can be a force of undoing. I had no issue casting a hex during the eclipse because I wanted to see the undoing of those that I was trying to hex, but the protection spell will not fail because I didn’t pull on the power of the moon.

****Yes, I listen to music while I work. On the night of the full moon, I was listening to Freedom by Beyoncé ft. Kendrick Lamar on repeat during the whole shebang. When I work, I am incredibly focused, so much that even the slightest disturbance to my balance will send the whole spell crashing down at my feet. If I were to work in silence, a single pin drop could cause me to lose focus and the spell could go awry. So, usually I will put on a single song that reflects the work that I am doing. Either that or I go to ambient-mixer.com and find some background sounds that I can customize and put on for myself. I chose the particular song that I did because both artists are POC angd it sends a message that aligns with the intent of both of these spells.

Sigil of Protection

This one I created myself.

Hexing Sigil

This one I did not create myself. The wonderful ceramyn here on tumblr created it, so this is me crediting her work.

#witchcraft #witches for black lives matter #witches for blm #spells #sigil magic #sigils

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favefandomimagines · 5 years ago

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Fight For Me (t.h.)

Summary: It’s time for Tom to start fighting for you.

AN: Downey!Reader because that’ll make things interesting 😉

“Tom, did you seriously not see it?!” You yelled at your boyfriend.

He had just arrived home from an interview and the interviewer was saying some really horrible things about you to Tom. And Tom didn’t say anything to stop it.

You had gotten phone calls and texts from Zendaya, Jacob, Chris Evans, even your own father. Who was less than pleased at your boyfriend’s blasé attitude.

“He wasn’t saying anything bad about you, Y/N!” Tom rebutted. “Oh really? So the comment about me gaining weight was just a funny punch line? Looks like I failed to see the joke in that one.” You snapped. “He didn’t meant it.” Tom retorted. “And how the hell would you know? You clearly didn’t see the problem in it!” You snapped.

Tom scoffed and rolled his eyes before they landed back on you.

“He didn’t say anything bad about you, Y/N. You’re being dramatic.” He said. It was your turn to scoff as you pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Then I guess Zendaya, Jacob, Chris and oh my father are being dramatic too.” You said.

Tom’s face fell when you mentioned your dad. Even before you two started dating, Robert’s approval meant everything to him. It was just amplified by a hundred when he asked you out.

“What did your dad say?” Tom asked in a softer tone. “That interviewer is going to lose his job and he’s not very thrilled with you either.” You said with a stone cold expression.

“Tom, I’m tired. This isn’t the first time this has happened and both times, you didn’t say anything. I need you to fight for me if this relationship is going to work. If you can’t do that then-“ You started before he cut you off.

“Please don’t say it.” He whispered. You sighed before grabbing your car keys. “Y/N,” He started. “I’m going to stay with my dad tonight. Watch that interview while you’re here alone. Maybe that’ll give you some perspective.” You told him before exiting the house.

Tom wanted to stop you but you were so stubborn and headstrong that no matter what he said wasn’t going to make you stay that night. You needed space and time and he was going to give you that.

You arrived at your dad’s house and used the spare key to get inside.

“Hello?” You called. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” Susan asked, appearing from around the corner. “Tom and I got in an argument and I just needed some space for the night.” You explained. “Was it about the interview?” She questioned. “You saw it too?” You asked. “Yeah, your father showed me. I’m sorry, honey. That interviewer shouldn’t have said that and Tom should have stuck up for you.” Susan said.

You gave her a solemn smile before your younger siblings ran to you. “Y/N!” Exton yelled as he practically threw himself at you. “Hey, bud! What are you two up to?” You asked, Avri appearing at her brother’s side. “Tonight’s movie night, so you picked a good night to stop by.” Susan answered.

“Is that Y/N I hear?” Your dad’s voice came from down the hall. “Yeah, it’s me.” You called.

Robert joined the rest of the family by the door and pulled you in for a hug. “I’m sorry, kiddo. What did he say?” He asked. “That I was being dramatic.” You answered.

“I’m gonna need to have a talk with that kid.” Robert muttered, letting you go. “Dad,” You started. “No, Y/N. He’s your boyfriend and he didn’t even see that during that interview, that man was making terrible comments towards you. He should have defended you. Now I’m going to go talk to him.” Robert said as he grabbed his keys and left.

“I’m sorry.” You said to Susan. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s go watch a movie and have some ice cream.” She said walking with you to the theater room.

Robert arrived at your shared home with Tom and used his key to enter the house. He saw Tom sitting on the couch, with his headphones in and his laptop propped up on his lap.

At a closer glance, Robert noticed that he was the watching the interview in question. He walked up behind the young actor and pulled the headphones off his head.

“Jesus, you scared the hell out of me.” Tom gasped, trying to get his heart rate to return to normal. “We need to have a little conversation.” Robert said, sitting on the coffee table across from Tom. “I know. I watched the interview and I don’t know how I didn’t see what he was saying. I guess I was just excited about the interview that I wanted it to be great.” Tom replied.

“You hurt her, Tom. This is the second interview that this guy has done with you and has talked badly about Y/N. Forget her being your girlfriend, she’s my daughter. And as her boyfriend, regardless of if you’re famous or not, you’re supposed to stand up for her and protect her when I can’t. And I get you’re a nice guy and you hate being confrontational but in this case, you have to stand up for her, especially when she can’t stand up for herself.” Robert said.

Tom nodded his head and looked at his hands. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to get as bad as it did. The first time, I thought he was just trying to get a rise out of me and when I didn’t give him what he wanted, he’d stop. I guess I was wrong.” He said. “You shouldn’t be telling me that, kid. You need to tell Y/N.” Robert told him.

After a few more minutes of talking, Robert left the house and made his way back to his own. It was after midnight and he knew that Avri and Exton would be asleep and you would be held up in your old room.

When he got home, he walked to where your room was and knocked on the door lightly. “What’s up?” You asked from behind the closed door.

Robert opened the door and leaned against the doorway.

“Please tell me you didn’t kill him.” You said to your father. “I didn’t kill him. I just gave him a nice reality check.” He answered. “What did you say?” You asked. “Now, that’s private.” He joked. You rolled your eyes as you closed the book you had open in front of you.

“But, I told him that he needs to stand up for you when you’re not around to do it for yourself.” He added. “I just don’t get why he didn’t notice. I mean, the guy said I was talentless and the complete opposite of worthy to date Tom. You’d think a random stranger questioning our relationship would have set something off for him.” You said.

Robert walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Just like he used to do when you were little.

“Do you remember when you would have a nightmare and you would call my name but I wouldn’t come right away? Not until you started crying?” He asked. You nodded your head wondering where he was going with that analogy. “Well, this is that for Tom. You walking out was just like that. He didn’t hear it until then.” Your dad explained.

‘He would turn that into something philosophical.’ You thought. “Thanks, dad.” You told him. “Of course, kiddo. That’s what I’m here for.” He said standing up from the bed. “I love you tons.” He added standing in the doorway.

You chuckled lightly before replying. “I love you 3000.” You said. Robert smiled at you before he exited your room and closed the door.

—

The next morning, you ate breakfast with your family though Tom was blowing up your phone.

Tom: when are you coming home?

Tom: i hated not waking up to you this morning...

Tom: well if you can’t come home for me, come home for Tess, she misses you.

You sighed at your phone while your dad and Susan exchanged knowing glances. They knew you were going to go back home because that’s where you needed to be.

You took your sweet time getting there though. You stopped at starbucks and got yourself some coffee. Then put gas in your car before finally deciding Tom had waited long enough.

You stepped through the front door and immediately, Tessa came running up to you.

“Hey, Tess! I missed you too.” You greeted the dog. “Y/N?” You heard Tom’s voice call from the kitchen. You froze slightly as you heard Tom enter the entryway.

You looked at him hesitantly as he looked back at you.

“I’m so sorry. I’m terrible.” Tom said. “I take it you watched the interview.” You said dropping your bag. “I did and I can’t believe I didn’t see it the first time. None of what he said was true. You’re too good for me, not the other way around. And you’re absolutely beautiful and you most certainly haven’t gained weight and if you have, who cares? You’re gorgeous because you’re you.” Tom ranted.

You looked up at the ceiling so the tears that were in your eyes wouldn’t fall. “Y/N Downey, I love you. More than I thought was possible and I am so sorry.” Tom apologized. You looked back at him and practically threw yourself at him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you.

“I never should have let him say those awful things about you.” Tom mumbled into your neck. “It’s okay.” You whispered. “No, it’s not. I know you’re just saying that because you don’t want to fight anymore.” He rebutted.

You laughed dryly, knowing he was right. You were tired of fighting and you just wanted to go back to normal.

“Yeah, that’s true. I don’t want to fight with you anymore, Tom. So can we just lay in bed with Tessa and watch Stranger Things?” You offered.

It was then Tom’s turn to laugh as he cupped your face in his hands. “Of course we can, love.” He said. You smiled up at him before placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

You soon fell on to your own bed and sighed contently. Tom soon joined you and you cuddled up next to him as Tessa positioned herself in between you two.

“I love you.” You told Tom. “I love you too.” He replied before placing a kiss on your forehead.

#imagines #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland #spider man: far from home #spiderman #marvel #robert downey jr #peter parker imagine #peter parker

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