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writefightandflightclub · 4 years

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Return to Sender: (Richard Alonso Muñoz x GN reader)

What is this? This is 4/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. I’m not gonna share the prompt as it’s spoilery, but it was requested by @sergeantkane who is a genius for picking this combo! It’s a prompt about LOVE LETTERS! Omg! And thus, it matches perfectly with Richard (trust me, I had NOT made that connection when I made the prompt list :P). Thank you so much for requesting, Clarke, and I hope you enjoy it. I’m excited about this one!

If you’d like to read/keep track of the other fics, I’m keeping an up-to-date friends to lovers list in my pinned post.

Author’s note: Oh, I really quite like this one. Hope it makes you feel as soft as I did for Richard while writing it! Also- it’s my first bash at writing him, so let me know what you think! Thanks to everyone who helped with film details too: those not already tagged in the post- @prurientpuddlejumper @witchyavenger @veuliee2 @waatermelon-sugaar @pascal-isaac

Word count: 4.5 k. So not a blurb, then? :P

Rating: Mature, for light steam (not explicit, but 18+ or out, please!)

Warnings: mentions of food/eating. Mild angst (but it ends well), Steamy. Kissing, brief non-explicit mention of erection. Implied coitus (cut scene). Richard works in a “correctional facility”. Small mention of attempted break-in. If I missed any let me know.

Tagging: @anetteaneta @isvvc-pvscvl @nowritingonthewall @supernovafeather (ONLY READ IF 18+)

GIF by @nathan-bateman

“Have you ever received a love letter?” Richard wonders shyly, without looking up from his crossword puzzle, his long eyelashes fanned out as his gaze dances over the monochrome squares.

Meanwhile, your eyes snap up immediately from your magazine, which you are idly leafing through, a breath catching in your chest.

You bristle at the question, and yet Richard seems either entirely oblivious, or entirely determined not to look-up at you. Perhaps both. So, instead of looking, he simply slurps the dregs of his milkshake, and pushes his plate of waffle remnants further toward the far end of the diner booth.

When he finally raises his gaze – a gentle prompt for you to answer him- his eyes are large and shining under the fluorescent lights as he peers at you over his glass, dabbing at his thick moustache with a paper napkin shortly after.

“No, never,” you state sadly, heeding his prompt with a small smile and a shake of your head. Not even a love e-mail.

“I’m surprised,” he flatters with a cautious smile. And, if you’re not mistaken, his eyes light-up with the faintest trace of desire. The barest undercurrent of passion, which is enough to have your heart beating like a drum. You notice it sometimes; this dull heat emanating off of him. It is a spark which never ignites, however - to your endless disappointment; you would fan that flame if only you knew how.

You swallow. He’s surprised? He can’t be that surprised, you think, a stone sinking through your stomach as you dwell too long on the topic of love letters, and meanwhile, Richard’s attention seamlessly diverts back to 3 across.

“You deserve one,” he says, still looking at the page, but a smile animating his wiry moustache. “A letter.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, a spiralling sadness catching hold of you. Does he not understand what this is doing to you? This painful reminder? “Can we drop it, Richard?” you say tensely, and when his eyes meet yours again, they are even more soft and cautious than usual, causing you to admonish yourself for the bite in your tone.

“Yes,” he says. “Of course,” he smiles thinly, apologetically.

It’s simply the new job, you think. Director of Communications. The man has letters on the brain. Richard is so considerate, that you realise he must not intend to hurt you in dredging up the past; he would never. In a way though, you think, it’s even worse that he brings it up so… casually. You can only conclude he has forgotten that you sent your letter to him at all. Had your heartfelt words, declaring your love, had so little impact on him?

Maybe that’s it. After all, they seemed to have so little impact upon him at the time. What could you expect years later? On the other hand, you -apparently- remain rather sore about the topic, all this time later. It’s natural to be sensitive though, isn’t it? You’d written him a love letter and he didn’t write you back. He didn’t say it back. Didn’t feel it back.

And, perhaps it still stings so much, even all these years later, because you never did stop loving him, even if he never started loving you.

Feeling a sudden, overwhelming haste to leave, you thumb through the pages of your magazine so furiously that the next table turn their heads to look at you, until you find what you were searching for.

“Here, Richard. The article I mentioned. Dramatherapy for people who are incarcerated.”

You fold the magazine back on itself, fobbing it off on him with an unprecedented urgency, hurriedly signalling to the waitress that you’d like the check. The roomy diner booth suddenly feels suffocating, and you want to get out. Meanwhile, oblivious, Richard chuckles at the title of the article -some kind of pun, you recall- as you try to push down the unpleasant emotions surfacing within you.

“Thank you for this,” he smiles, looking up at you earnestly. Looking concerned as he reads the expression on your face. “Are you alright?”

Your eyes fix on the table, where his fingertips inch hesitantly across the surface, hovering moments from yours as he debates whether to extend comfort. You make the decision for him, snatching your hand back from his reach.

“Yes. I’m Fine,” you say, unconvincingly. “Can we please go? I need some fresh air.”

“Alright,” Richard agrees gently. He looks a little flustered, but, now sensing your urgency, he begins to sweep up his papers and to shrug on his jacket. He pulls out a small comb to fix his neat curls in place, and offers you a soft smile. “Maybe we can go to the park next?” he suggests.

As much as you want to run, you nod, some of your agitation dissipating now that the prior topic seems to be forgotten. “Okay. Yeah. That would be nice.” You school your expression into something calm, and you offer him a reassuring smile as his soulful eyes dance over you, a lingering but unobtrusive concern there.

As you split the check, you tell yourself for the millionth time that being his friend is enough; but even after the millionth time, you can’t quite believe it.

Still, today -Sunday- is your one day with him this week. And, no matter what you can’t have; you’ll take anything you can get.

He’s too dear to you to settle for anything less.

************

One month later:

You crouch in amongst the boxes on Richard’s front lawn. He is having a clear-out, setting out some items for goodwill, and some for a neighbourhood yard sale happening next weekend.

You are having fun assisting him in sifting through various items, occasionally bursting into a fit of laughter when he reveals yet another ill-informed, late night shopping channel “bargain” – usually some new-fangled, scarcely-used exercise contraption, which he proceeds to demonstrate in good-humour, making you fold over clutching your stomach in mirth. Occasionally, as you rifle through the boxes, you’ll be overcome by a pang of sentimentality when he uncovers an item with a memory attached; and -no matter how useless- he usually sneaks said item into his ever-growing “to-keep” pile.

“But this is the picnic hamper we took to Bound Beach Island! For your birthday, remember?”

“Yeah, Richard, but it’s battered! It has holes! It needs to go.”

“It was a beautiful day. The light and the dunes were beautiful… and… and y-“

“-Oh my goodness, what is this?! Please for the love of God tell me you never actually wore this!”

You work through the midday sun until you come to a tired, dead halt on the grass, finally parking your ass down and wiping your brow. Richard looks warm too, a “v” of sweat soaking his old, oversized “Save the Turtles” t-shirt. No - he really doesn’t throw anything away. You smile fondly, though, remembering his sea turtle phase. Of course, he’d read some article. He always was looking for a cause.

“I’ll make us some iced tea,” Richard announces with a tired puff of breath, looking more spent than he probably wants to admit after shuttling the various boxes. Still, the way his grizzled curls have fallen away from his harsh side-part appeals to you, sitting disobedient and undone on his forehead.

Thinking of him undone, you hear a faint beating of drums sound in your chest.

You ignore the music though, like always, instead smiling gratefully as he heads inside, and you take a second to collect yourself before dragging the nearest box towards you, deciding you may as well continue. This next box is taped securely shut, and you chuckle quietly to yourself when you notice it’s labelled “workout-gear”.

You peel the packing tape away and open it up, scooping out the pile of miscellaneous papers sitting right on top. Beginning to leaf through, you surmise it’s mainly unopened junk mail; mainly garishly printed promotional flyers - from a pizzeria which closed down years ago, you recognise. Probably hastily stuffed in before his last move and never dealt with. Absent-mindedly, you begin to bundle it up for the recycling pile, when a smaller, more humble envelope drops out on to your lap, a hand-scrawled address on the front. The stationary is resoundingly familiar.

In fact, everything about it is familiar.

Your heart hammers in your chest as it immediately dawns on you.

It’s your letter.

The letter you sent him, all those years ago. You’d needed to be apart from him- needed to go away to take care of family, and you simply couldn’t go without letting him know. Letting him know you were in love with him.

The memory is like a slow knife sinking into your chest as you idly turn it over in your hands.

But… It can’t be…?

It’s… unopened.

All the air leaves you lungs.

No. No. It doesn’t make a shred of sense.

You’d spoken to him right afterward, on the phone. The first time he’d called after you left town he’d almost pleaded with you, giving you an unequivocally clear, and endlessly painful answer that he didn’t want what you wanted. What you’d written about. He’d made it abundantly obvious that he simply wanted to be friends. “I- I don’t want anything to change. I want everything to stay exactly like it is between us – please? Can we still talk every day?”

But if he didn’t read it…?

You heart pounds so hard that you hear blood rushing in your ears.

He doesn’t know.

His words didn’t mean what you…

Oh my god. All this time.

You shoot abruptly to standing when you see him approach, as if you’ve been caught red-handed, guiltily stuffing the letter into your back pocket before he can ask you what it is, an abundance of thoughts screaming in your head.

He hands you the glass of tea, ice tinkling gently, and you take it from him, the coolness shocking your palms.

Assessing what you’ve been up to in his absence, and noting the carcass of another box, Richard glances down at the pile of papers strewn at your feet. He looks suddenly worried for a moment, as if you might have found an old porn stash or something – and he looks just as suddenly relieved when he sees they are more innocent papers, scooping them up from the grass.

“Richard?” you say, your eyes burning a hole in the back of his head, and the letter burning a hole in your pocket as he drops the items into the recycling. He hums for you to go on. “Do you... You know when I moved away...?” your voice is strained, and you gulp hard. “Just before, do you remember getting any unusual letters or... weird post from me?”

“Like what kind of thing?” he asks curiously, turning back to you.

“I don’t know exactly,” you lie, nervously. “I have a feeling I sent you something? A sappy goodbye thing?”

You see him mull it over, combing his impressive moustache with his fingers. “I don’t remember, sorry. But apparently I was drowning in junk mail at that apartment. Maybe it got lost, or returned to sender?”

Despite everything, you exhale a small laugh. In a roundabout way, you suppose it had been returned to sender after all. You look at the ground.

“Was it important?” he asks, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand as he looks at you.

Biding time, you take a sip of your tea while you search for an answer. It’s refreshing.

“It… Uh. It was a long, long time ago. Doesn’t matter now, I suppose,” you muse, masking your sadness, and he nods, looking at least half-satisfied with your answer.

Except, it does matter. It matters more than anything. And, with a sudden, overwhelming need to grab on to the past, you track to the “to go” box, rescuing the battered picnic basket from the pile of junk.

“You shouldn’t get rid of this,” you state, your back to Richard, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice falters. You tense as you feel him settle by your side, his hand hovering tentatively at the small of your back but never quite touching. “It was a beautiful day.”

“No,” he insists. “You’re right. I shouldn’t hang on to it.”

His words are like a punch in the gut. You turn your head to your side, where Richard is, your eyes and heart almost overflowing.

Noting your sadness, and connecting it to the picnic basket, he does everything he can to smooth things over, like always. “We can get a new one,” he says, his brown eyes sweet and hopeful and bright.

You love him. You love him still and you can’t help but turn towards him and reach out your arms, dragging him in for a hug.

“No! No, I’m sweaty,” he protests self-consciously, but you don’t care. You just need to hold him, even only for a moment – and, for a moment he stills as you loop around him, never quite clutching you back.

When you pull away though, you could swear that dim spark of passion is present in his eyes again. That spark that never catches, no matter how much or how often or how hard you wish it would. Oh, how you wish.

“Don’t ever change, Richard,” you say sincerely, your voice imbued with fondness. “Okay? You’re a sweet, wonderful man.”

His eyes are immediately soft and bashful again, the colour of his cheeks deepening a little, a crimson undertone blooming under his brown skin.

“Yes. Okay,” he offers, with a nod, his eyes creasing at the corners, and his posture even bolstered by the compliment, you could swear, his chest puffing out proudly.

For the rest of the afternoon, you ignore the unread words in the back of your pocket; but for the life of you, you can’t ignore those drums.

************

One month later:

You bundle the yapping, happy little white dog into your arms, relieved that she’s okay as her little tail happily beats against your arm.

“Are you okay, Lady?” you coo as she nuzzles her snoot into your face, eagerly lapping little kisses on to your cheek. “Thanks goodness, sweet little floof,” you baby-talk as your eyes quickly scan around Richard’s place, setting his spare key down on the kitchen counter.

You’d barrelled across town to get here, after receiving a call about an attempted break-in. His neighbour to the left had your contact details in case of an emergency -it’s not very easy to reach him at work, of course- so here you are. You came to give things a quick checking over, assured that no-one suspicious had continued to loiter. Richard won’t be much longer -his shift has nearly ended, and you’d left him a voicemail so you’re sure he’ll hurry- but you still thought you’d go on ahead of him, especially so that he wouldn’t worry about Lady.

Looking around, thankfully all seems well, and you don’t think anyone made it inside after all. Slowly then, you allow your nerves to calm and your heart to settle, bouncing the little bundle of fur in your arms, and feeding her a treat from the packet on top of the microwave, just in case she’d been stressed out.

Calming, you can’t help but smile as you look around, absorbing all the little details of Richard. You do hang out in his apartment a fair amount, but most often you will meet or sit outdoors, when the weather allows. After all, he loves to feel the sun and fresh air on his face, especially after spending all day cooped-up in windowless rooms. To you though, this Richard-ness is like a breath of fresh air, and you let it all wash over you, drinking in the details of his simple daily routine. The discarded half-plate of frijoles and rice by the sink. The ironing-board piled with identical uniform-issue shirts, pants, and plain white t-shirts. The photos on the fridge door – some of you and him too.

Doing a lap of the living space, you further note the dining-for-one TV table, evidence of his relatively solitary existence, and you can almost see him sitting there. Can almost hear his soft voice relating the far-fetched storylines of his favourite telenovelas. You imagine him chuckling warmly - perhaps shedding a tear sometimes too.

You decide you should pop your head into the bedroom and bathroom to check there too, for good measure, and you set Lady down, the dog trotting along at your heels. Once you’ve done a loop, you sigh, seeking out a fresh task, and you circle back to the sink, scraping his discarded plate and rinsing it, stacking it in the dishrack. Then, you move towards the TV chair, intending simply to sit yourself down and wait for Richard to come home. After all, you’re here now - you may as well say hello; or, maybe you can even prepare him dinner after his long shift, you muse.

As you revisit the small, rickety table, however, your eyes more keenly notice that a bunch of papers are strewn over it, all identical- a series of pastel pink leaves of paper and envelopes.

Letters.

Handwritten, in his familiar scrawl.

Letters addressed to you.

Your brow furrows in confusion, as you wonder what they could be. You don’t want to invade his privacy, of course, but perhaps this is something that’s meant for you? After all, sometimes he leaves you notes when you come over to feed or walk Lady.

Still, this feels different, and, with a lump in your throat that you don’t quite understand, you pick up one of the leaves at random, skimming the first line, yet feeling only more confused than you did before.

You see your name at the head of the paper, followed by the words “my dearest love,”, and underneath, some other half-formed paragraphs, scribbled over and crossed out.

No, you shake your head, your stomach flipping over. That can’t be right, you think, even as your fingers scramble for another leaf - for leaf upon leaf, until you piece together what’s going on. Until, with every line you read, fragments of both English and Spanish, you feel as though you are piecing together his heart.

Could it be true? Is this really true?

Your fingers dive for a sheet more developed that the rest, where you see paragraphs of writing, and you devour the words like you are starved of love; for you are, aren’t you? Starved? And yet, you suddenly feel so full. Brimming.

My darling,

There are infinite ways to fall in love. Some are elemental, like a raging fire. A shock of lightning on first sight. Some are slow-burning and constant, the heat of friendship warming your hearth, defrosting your iced fingertips when you come in from the cold.

There are infinite ways to fall in love, and I should know, my heart, as I have experienced every one of them with you.

You can barely read the rest as tears blur your eyes, and your hand comes to clamp over your mouth as realisation sinks through to the pit of you, the page quaking -like a leaf- in your fingers.

You make my heart beat like a drum. When I look at you, I am music, without being played. When you’re with me I am dancing, without movement. If only you would touch my skin, I feel like I would sing. If only you would-

“-Are you safe? Are you alright?” Richard asks from behind you, and you tear your eyes away from the page with a start. You were so absorbed by this swell of beating music that you didn’t hear the scrape of his key in the lock. You didn’t hear his hurried footsteps coming up behind you.

“Richard,” you suspire, and for once his touch is on you without hesitation, his hands clasped around each of your shoulders, slowly running down your arms, and you nod quickly to reassure him, your mouth opening wordlessly. You’re safe.

His touch is warm through your clothes, and you think he is right- your skin would sing for him too if he touched you. Your love rattles you, like drums beating musically in your chest, pulsing through your body.

Then, Richard clocks your sideward, guilty glance at the pile of letters, and you see his panic instantly surface at the thought of all his unsent and unspoken words laid bare before you. All the pieces of his heart exposed.

At first, he looks apologetic, but then you step forwards a little more, into the circle of his arms. Arms which suddenly fall, unsure, at his sides once again. And, achingly slow, endlessly sure, you lift up you hand and you place it on his chest, over his heart, smoothing over his shirt and over the cool metal of the shield he wears there. You feel his heart really is beating like a drum. His chest is rising and falling beneath your hand, his breath quickened – eyes nervous.

You step a little closer, and your fingers continue their slow crawl, dancing up around his collar, inching further up until your fingers finally brush the bare skin at the nape of his neck, pushing up into the curls behind his ears, your thumb skimming his sideburn. You touch him, with your fingertips, and he does sing for you, a half-choked moan leaving his mouth at your tender caress.

“Richard,” you say breathily, searching his face, eyes openly appraising his beauty. “Don’t worry, sweet man. I love you too.” And, when you next meet his eyes there is no nervousness there. Not any longer. Instead, you find his dark, expressive eyes brewing with adoration, and that gentle but ever ascending note of passion.

“Darling, can I kiss you?” he pleads, his voice dogged by desire, his brow knitting together and his hands slipping bravely to your waist, circling you as you arch into him.

“Yes. Yes,” you say, and his mouth meets yours in a desperate, tumultuous crush. You sing too, your skin thrumming as you finally know the feeling of his thick moustache brushing against you. As you taste the sweet flavour of cherry sucker on his kiss. As you finally feel the texture of his slicked curls beneath your fingertips.

You kiss, urgently, until you are each smiling too broadly to continue, and instead Richard beams and presses sweet, intermittent kisses all over – your cheeks, your forehead, your hair, your neck- his moustache tickling wherever it touches. His hands are everywhere they can be politely, roaming over your back and your arms and your hair, and it feels so good to finally be held like this.

Eventually, he pulls back, his smile no longer tugging at his lips so keenly -lips now kiss flushed with deep colour- but shining in his liquid eyes. “How long have you loved me back?” he asks in a still choked, disbelieving voice.

You bite your lip, but then allow your face to split in a radiant, unrestrained grin.

Always. Always. I loved you first, you think.

You reach for your bag, reluctant to break from him so trailing your love’s hand in yours- and you fish out the letter. The one you’ve carried around since it was returned to you. “Take a look, Richard,” you encourage.

He looks from you to the small envelope, turning it in his spare hand as you pass it to him. “What is this?”

His brows rise in confusion as you tap the stamped postmark with your index finger. Years. Years ago.

“I sent you a letter,” you explain. “Telling you I loved you. That I love you,” you correct, squeezing his hand tightly in yours, amazed at how natural it feels already, to touch him.

He audibly gasps in air, looking pained. Devastated. “I never got it. I would’ve-“, he fumbles for words, but he can’t finish them, the magnitude of all those years lost to yearning too big to wrap his lips around. “I never got it,” he repeats sorrowfully.

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about that now,” you soothe. “I got your letter.” And, as you engulf him with your arms a soft smile takes over his features once again. He can’t help it.

“I’m so glad you did,” he beams, drawing you to him for another kiss, which you eagerly accept, opening your mouth to him.

God, he’s a good kisser, his tongue in you deep and eager, and the heat generated is quick to catch, a fire lit in the pit of you. That moustache is a divine thing too, his lips soft and full beneath, his mild-mannered tongue positively sinful as it works against yours.

Letting the kiss grow, you grab hold of him by the belt to draw his body closer to yours, arching your hips into his, and you feel an impressive bulge greet you as you do so.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers bashfully, angling his hips away from you, in case you’re not ready for… that yet. “You’re perfection. So perfect, I… I’m a little bit, uh, excited.”

You don’t blame him. You’re a little bit excited too. There’s a drum beating in your chest. Music in your heart. A song everywhere. A dance in your body.

“W-would you like to take me to the bedroom, Richard?” you purr, softly. “We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

You wish you could capture the bliss which sparks in his eyes then, and keep stoking it forever more. His whole being glows as if you are the sun shining down on him. He loves the sun on his face. He loves you.

He loves you.

*******

Later that night:

At some point after round three, Richard is ravenous, and so you head to the kitchen to grab some snacks. One of Richard’s plaid shirts wards off the slight chill, settled over your otherwise naked body. As you microwave something quick, you can barely keep the smile from your face – even more so as you glance over at the table full of half-finished letters. As the microwave pings and you grab out the plate, another idea occurs to you, and you simply can’t help yourself.

So, you pad mysteriously back towards the bedroom, where Richard is waiting. The blanket is slung low over his hips, skimming the dark trail of hair which draws your gaze down beyond his abdomen. He is covered, and yet you bloom blissfully with heat at your new-found knowledge of what lays beneath. He’s laying with one hand folded behind his head, and one hand rested on the soft, roundness of his stomach, which you had laid your head on only moments ago.

Richard’s eyes shine with unadulterated admiration as you enter, and you flash him a mischievous smile as you transfer the plate to his hands, and subsequently tip a cascade of his letters into the middle of the bed.

“What’s all this?” he asks, with a contented laugh as you bounce eagerly into bed by his side, humming in equal contentment as you slot yourself under his arm.

“I want you to read them to me. Will you?” you ask, sweetly, and he looks bashful all over again. “No-one has ever sent me a love letter.”

“Me neither,” he chuckles. “Or I thought so…”

He hesitates, perhaps feeling shy, but he wraps his arm around you securely, nuzzling you into his side as he picks up the closest leaf of paper.

He hums gratefully as you begin to stroke his smooth chest. He really does sing whenever you touch him.

“They’re not finished,” he caveats. “I wanted to find the perfect words and I… I couldn’t.”

“The words don’t have to be perfect. It’s more important that they’re delivered,” you say, your voice soft as you sink into him, and so, he gently clears his throat and he begins to read, his words and his rich, soothing voice filtering over you like warm sunshine.

After a moment listening, and letting his love and his letters envelop you, you interrupt him gently. “My sweet man. Promise me you’ll never write me another love letter?”

“Are they that awful?!” Richard exclaims.

“No!” you laugh, into his chest, tipping your chin up to look him in the eyes. “They’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. It’s just… I think I hate love letters, Richard. They’ve only ever kept me from you.”

His expression becomes wistful, lost in thought until a smile finally captures him. Then, with a finger curling gently under your chin, he dips down to plant a small kiss to the very tip of your nose.

“No more letters then,” he promises softly. “Let’s always promise to say it out loud from now on. Let’s talk every day.”

You heart full, you bring your hand up to caress his cheek, before planting a gentle, lingering kiss to his lips; and, despite what you’d just suggested, you plead for him to keep reading to you, his voice and his love lulling you to sleep in his arms.

With the love letters as kindling, your dim spark finally catches, your fire now blazing. You set it in a hearth in your chest, and you vow to keep it stoked for always.

THE END

Bonus:

#richard alonso muñoz x reader #Richard Alonso Muñoz #the letter room #richard alonso munoz x reader #oscar isaac #richard alonso-munoz x reader #luna's tumblrversary

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suchalonelysunflower · 4 years

Text

Merry Crisis (a.i)

Pairing: Ashton Irwin (ft.5SOS) X Fem!reader (Dad!Ash)

Summary: Shopping is always stressful, but when you have a baby on the way... it can become a chaos, especially when you have 3 crazy best friends with you.

Warnings: Language. Fluff and some crackhead moments. Reader uses she/her pronouns. Mentions of Birth. Some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, sorry)

Word count: 4.5 k

Author’s note: Hello! This is my first Holiday fic with 5SOS and it’s Ashton’s turn to shine (even tho each boy gets their moment) This was so fun to write, I did it on my sociology class (so maybe it’s not that perfect) and I love it very much and I hope you do too! Reblogs, feedback and comments are always welcome and encouraged! Support your writers! ❤️ Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋❤️

My materialist // wanna be on my tag list?

Twas the evening before Christmas, the streets were filled with Christmas lights and the chill air of Los Angeles made everything cozier as families gathered around the fireplace and enjoyed the most peaceful of times…

This statement does not apply to our favorite band, tho.

Our four Australians were not enjoying a cup of hot cocoa with their families as they were supposed to, oh no. They were doing the most dreadful thing a person could think of doing the night before dear Santa came to visit: They were Christmas shopping.

In their defense - or at least Calum’s, Michael’s and Luke’s defense, this was all Ashton’s fault for he was the one that dragged them to the crowded mall in the middle of one of the busiest days of the year. And, in Ashton’s defense, it was not his fault that the store had called him in the middle of a recording session to tell him that they finally had the only thing he wanted for Christmas: A music box.

He just had to get it before everyone else.

“Why did we come all over here for a little music box?” Asked Michael as they stood at the end of the line for the register. How could they only have one register open? It’s Christmas for fucks sake! but then again, it’s Christmas for fucks sake, so they know that people should be with their families instead of working a poorly paid job.

“It was the last one!” Ashton claimed, admiring the little circular box in his hand “It’s a limited edition and I just had to get it for Y/N and for the baby”

His eyes lit up when your name escaped his lips. Not even a year ago did he officially make you his wife, but now you were carrying his child! People might think it was rushed, but for Ashton it was the complete opposite. He had his life made when he met you, knowing that he will marry you as soon as he could… he had to wait a few more years to do that, but he was extremely happy, more so now that your little family was expanding. He loved you and your child with all his heart, and the boys all knew that so they can't even be mad about it, even if he kidnapped them to the mall with the promise of some cinnabuns later.

“She had one of these when she was little” Ashton continued as he admired the little hand painted details of the box “It always played a little lullaby to help her sleep. But it broke a few years ago and she always complained about not having one like this for her kids one day… But now she will!” The black haired man smiled.

“Shit, that’s actually pretty sweet” Michael commented “Okay, you’re forgiven”

“I don’t know if I want to hug you for being the perfect husband, or to kick you in the balls for being the perfect husband and making the rest of us feel bad” Luke chuckled.

The four boys laughed at the comment and started talking about their plans for the Holidays as they waited for the line to move. The problem was, it has been fifteen minutes and the line has only moved once.

“How long is this line anyway?” Calum said, peeking over the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he noticed at least thirty more people waiting in front of them “Shit, this is going to take a while. That man has at least twenty plushies and eleven race cars”

“I don’t know how people could leave this kind of stuff for the last minute” Ashton huffed, earning a death glare from each of his friends “This one is different, tho! It was the last one!”

“I’ll give you a hundred bucks for that!” Someone said behind Luke, making him jump at the sudden surprise.

“What the-” Luke said, placing a hand over his heart.

It was a short man in a trench coat who pointed to the music box in Ashton’s hand.

Ashton furrowed his eyebrows and said to the man “Uh, not a chance mate”

“Two hundred?”

“Nope”

“Five hundred?” The man would just not cave and Ashton was getting fed up with it, luckily Calum noticed and hurried to say something before his friend started a scene.

“Hey, mr. Devito wannabe. He said no, so just go bother someone else. Okay?”

The man scoffed and turned his face to the side, stating that he was offended. The four Australians rolled their eyes and turned their backs to him once again.

Another fifteen minutes passed and the line barely moved. The guys were not talking anymore, running out of things to say past the twenty minute mark. Each of them were bored out of their minds, well all but Ashton at least, he was still gleaming with pride as he looked at the music box and created scenarios in his head and thought about the joy that would be mirrored in your eyes once you open it tomorrow morning.

After a few more minutes of silence, Luke was the first one to break it “I think I’m just gonna get a coffee and wait in the car. These boots are killing me today” He looked at Ashton as if to ask permission, but the dark haired man just shrugged and nodded, asking him to buy one for him as well and to leave it in the car.

Michael then added “Yeah, I think I’m gonna go and check the electronics this store has. I think I saw a new camera that would be perfect for my streams”

And that only left Calum and Ashton waiting in line. But about five seconds later, Calum opened his mouth.

“Yes, you can go explore, too” Ashton said with a sigh before Calum even got a chance to ask.

“Cool” The curly man said, patting Ashton on the back before muttering a ‘I’ll be right back’ Leaving him alone with the music box.

Ashton didn’t mind. In fact, he kind of enjoyed this time alone. It gave him plenty of opportunities to imagine a new future for the both of you next to your little baby boy or girl. He catched a glimpse of families walking around the mall, buying gifts or eating a snack as they smiled at each other. He couldn’t wait for that to be his new normal.

He remembered the time when you told him you were pregnant. You gifted him a special baby bodysuit that said “My daddy is the best drummer in the world and there is nothing you can do about it” next to your positive pregnancy test. Ashton always wanted to start a family, especially if it was with you, but he never expected it to be so soon. Yet, once he held the test in his trembling hands, he knew that this was the best thing it could’ve happened to him. He remembers how tearful he got the second his brain processes the information, quickly running up to you and pressing an earth shattering kiss to your lips, promising you and your baby that he would be the best father in the world.

And, as he held the little object in his hand, he already thought he was doing a pretty good job. He smiled to himself and thought about calling you. Not only did he want to hear your voice at this moment, but also because he wanted to check up on you. You were having tea with your best friend at the moment, but the pregnancy hormones were hitting pretty hard lately and he wanted to make sure you were doing alright.

But as soon as he got his phone out of his pocket, your name started glowing on the screen.

“Baby! I was just about to call you” Ashton said with a smile, loving this little coincidence.

“Ashton, is coming!” You said in an alarming tone. Ashton, however, did not understand what you meant.

“Yeah? I’m coming home soon, why are-?”

“No!” You cut him off “The baby, Ash! The baby is coming!”

Ashton laughed “Ha, ha very funny Y/N. But the baby isn’t due until three weeks from now”

“ASHTON FLETCHER IRWIN” You yelled through the phone, making Ashton pull away from the phone for a second “MY WATER BROKE AND THE BABY IS COMING NOW. SO GET YOUR ASS TO THE HOSPITAL BEFORE I-” A sharp pain ran through you as you were experiencing the contractions. Ashton could hear your distant groan and immediately went pale.

The baby was coming and he wasn’t ready.

“Ash, hello?” Your friend’s calm voice came from the other end “I’m gonna take Y/N to the hospital right now. I need you to meet us there, okay?”

“Fuck, okay. I’m on my way” He rushed to say before he ended the call.

“Hey, dude. What’s going-?” Michael said as he approached the black haired man who looked like he might throw up.

“The baby’s coming!” He said, trying to concentrate on his breathing before he hyperventilates.

“What?!”

“Hey, Mike, is everything-?” Calum came next, worried about his friends’ weird behavior.

“THE BABY IS COMING”

Michael.

The guitarist started wandering the electronics and new technologies hall. He was secretly glad he got away from waiting in line for what it looked like another hour, but at the same time he was glad he decided to accompany Ashton in his little quest.

The moment he knew you were pregnant he set himself to be the best uncle that little kid will have. He already knew that you and Ashton were going to be great parents, with the way in which you love each other it was hard to think otherwise. Michael was always up for anything you guys wanted to do for each other, from secret dates or help you sneak out after a concert, or even to plan gifts! He always took pride to know that he was part of your epic love story, even if it was with just a little favor.

Michael stepped into the videogame aisle like he usually does, but this time he went directly to the kid’s section, knowing that eventually your baby will want to play videogames with uncle Mikey and he will have to be ready with the most family friendly games he could find.

He started grabbing a few of them and reading the little summaries they had on the back, eventually deciding that he did not understand anything about children’s games and that he might have to ask around in order to find the best ones.

He went back to the electronics aisle and something caught his attention.

“Is that a real megaphone?” He asked one of the workers there “I haven’t seen one since 2014” He said, remembering the last time the boys ever let him play with one of those in the Good Girls video.

“Yeah! It’s the new model” Said the teenage boy that was in charge of that seccion that day “Wanna try it out?”

“Before that, can I go and show it to my mates? I won’t be gone for long, they are just down the checkout line”

“Sure!” The young man smiled and gave him the megaphone.

Michael had a big smile on his face as he started walking towards Ashton to show him what he found. But his smile dropped the minute he saw Ashton’s face grew a thousand times paler.

He carefully walked up to him and asked “Hey, dude. What 's going-?”

“The baby’s coming!” Ashton said, trying to catch his breath.

“What?!”

Calum.

He hated the mall. He really did. There were always too many people, too much noise and the prices were always exaggerated. But he knew that he was here today for a good cause. Calum was not going to let his best mate down.

Ever since you came into Ashton’s life - and the boys’ life for that matter - he could tell that you were special. Not only because of the way Ashton talked about you all the damn time, but because of your energy, your passion, your kindness and obviously your undenying love for the drummer.

Calum was always the protective friend, always keeping his guard up for any new companion they boys might have. But with you it was different. The first time you two met was the day you instantly became best friends. He knew he could trust you to keep Ashton’s heart safe, and he knew that if Ashton ever broke your heart that he was going to have to kick his ass for being that stupid. Luckily, he wasn’t.

He was the first person (after Ashton, of course) to know about your pregnancy. He swore to himself that he would not let anything happen to his future godson/goddaughter. That baby was going to be the perfect mixture of his best friends, there was nothing in the world that could stop him from loving them just as much as he loves all of you. He even got them toys so they could play with Duke when they’re older! Needless to say that he was very, very excited.

As he wandered through the halls of the store he noticed a commotion next to the toys section.

A line of kids accompanied by their parents awaited in front of a huge chair decorated with fake snow and candy canes. Santa Claus was going to be there.

“Oh my god” A female voice said behind him “You are Calum Hood!”

Calum turned around and was faced with a young girl dressed as an elf looking at him like he hung the moon or something.

“That I am” He said with a smile “Hello, nice to meet you!”

“M-my name’s Lizza” The girl blushed “I’m a huge fan! Is it okay if- I mean, could I get a picture? Please?”

Calum smiled “Sure!”

Lizza squealed “Omg, okay. But, can we do it over there? The kids aren’t supposed to see me yet” She said, pointing to a corner with a curtain and some costumes, presumably Santa’s and his elves'.

Calum nodded and followed the girl, catching a glimpse of the Santa Claus outfit “Do you think I can wear that for the picture?” He asked. Honestly, he just wanted to know how it would feel like to dress up as Santa, knowing he would one day have to do it for your child.

“Of course!” The girl said, taking her phone from her purse and giving it to another elf so he could take the picture.

Once the picture was done, he started to strip off the big red coat, the white beard and the hat when suddenly he had an idea “Is it okay if I borrow this for a while? Maybe five minutes? I wanna prank some friends that are at the check out”

“Uhh”

“I’ll give it back, I promise,” He said with a smile.

Lizza sighed “Sure! We have another one for emergencies”

“Cool, thanks Lizza”

Calum walked away with the fake beard, the warm coat and the hat, feeling cheeky as he approached the line.

“What?!” He heard Michael yell. And although Michael always yells, this one seemed important as his voice sounded concerned.

“Hey, Mike, is everything-?” Calum said, approaching his friends with a very confused face. But before he could even finish the question, Ashton looked at him with fear in his eyes.

“THE BABY IS COMING”

Ashton.

This was not good. Not good at all. His wife is at the hospital about to give birth and he is still in the line of the fucking mall.

“Oh shit!” Calum said, looking frantically over the line that was still too long “OH SHIT”

“Okay calm dow- Is that a Santa costume?” Michael asked.

“Calm down?!” Calum said, panicking “My best friend is having a baby and you tell me to CALM DOWN?!”

“I’m having a baby…” Ashton said in a whisper, not really paying attention to what was going on around him “I’m having a baby”

“Not you!” Said Calum “Well... also you but I meant Y/N! She’s the one pushing it mate” But Ashton did not listen.

His whole world paused in that moment. Too many thoughts were running through his head as he tried to formulate a plan, any plan that would get him the quickest to you.

He thought he was doing a good job, he thought that he was going to be the best dad ever and now he was going to miss the birth of his first child because the line wasn’t fucking moving.

“Ash?” Michael called, but he wasn’t listening.

How could he screw this up so early in the game? Your baby wasn’t even born yet but he swore he could already feel their disappointment.

“Ash..”

And you! How could you ever forgive him?! You will surely file for divorce once the baby is born.

“Ashton!”

“What?!” He yelled, looking at Michael who was shaking him by the shoulders.

“Fucking breathe man! You almost turn purple there”

Michael started breathing at an even pace, motioning Ashton to breathe with him and so he did “It’s going to be okay, don’t worry about it”

“How can you say that?!” Ashton almost cried “I’m not even a dad yet and I’m already screwing up! Who doesn’t show up to the birth of his child?”

Michael rolled his eyes, knowing his friend was just talking out of fear than out of reason, and shook him by the shoulders again “Listen to me, you are already a great dad! You were a dad even before Y/N got pregnant and you are not going to miss the birth of my nephew or niece. I won’t allow it. But first I need you to calm the fuck down!”

Ashton looked at Michael and swallowed the lump in his throat “What if I’m not ready? What if we’re not ready?”

Michael chuckled “You asked me the same question when you were about to walk down the aisle a year ago. You were ready even before you knew you were and this is not different”

But before Ashton could say something, Calum walked up to them again.

“There are fourteen people ahead of us” Said Calum, who had just run up to the start of the line “If we asked them to move, we might get there in time”

“Or maybe you could leave the music box to me…” The man with the weird vibe intervened.

“Fuck off DeVito!” The three Australians yelled.

Suddenly, a lightbulb got turned on on Michael’s head “I got an idea!”

A panicked Calum dressed as Santa and a very panicked Ashton watched as Michael ran out of the store for a second, only to come back pushing a Target cart “Get in!” He said jumping in the cart and motioning to Ashton to follow him.

Ashton jumped inside without asking any questions, not even when Calum started pushing the car or when Michael turned on his… was that a megaphone?!

“Attention ladies and gentlemen” Michael said through the megaphone, making every single person turn their heads towards them, as if two large Australians standing inside of a shopping cart being pushed by a very tattooed Santa Claus wasn’t stiking enough “We have a man that’s going to become a father at any moment now while his wife is in the hospital! Please let us through!”

Ashton does not know if it was the weird scene they caused, his desperate face or Christmas magic that made everyone on the line take a step back as Calum pushed them through the checkout.

Once they got there, the cashier took his money, too shocked to say anything else as Ashton yelled “Keep the change!” As they rushed through the doors and towards the parking lot with Calum pushing the cart at a great speed with all of his energy as all the other customers looked at them and wondered what the hell was going on.

“Mommy?” A confused random kid asked “Why was Santa pushing those men on the cart?”

Luke.

His favorite Christmas playlist was playing in the car. He loved the holidays, but he hated Christmas shopping with his life. So he was very thankful that Ashton could understand this and let him wait in the car.

As he hummed through the song “His Favorite Christmas Story” he thought about the gift he got to your little unborn baby. As soon as he found out you were pregnant, he knew he had to spoil that kid rotten. Well, not that he knew he had to, but he wanted to. You and Ashton were the best people he has ever met, and he knew your little baby was not going to be different, so what’s wrong with giving that child the world they deserve?

A few months ago he talked to a friend of his that made customized presents made of crochet, so he asked if they could make a baby mobile to put over the crib. He also made sure to ask that the animals that were to adorn the mobile were your’s and Ashton’s favorites, and also throwing a little kangaroo in honor of their father’s homeland and a little penguin in honor of their future favorite uncle.

He smiled to himself as he thought he couldn’t wait to meet the little pal and how he couldn’t wait to start a family of his own. But his daydreaming got cut short when he heard a commotion coming from the mall’s doors.

Sirens were ringing and a lot of people stood and watched at whatever was causing the disturbance. He even had to take a double look because he thought he just saw Calum dressed as Santa Claus pushing a shopping cart with Ashton and Michael inside, the latter speaking with a megaphone in his hand. And indeed that is what he saw.

“LUKE START THE CAR” Michael yelled from his megaphone. And Luke, being the smart man that he is, did not ask questions as he did just that.

Soon enough, Calum Santa Claus was jumping inside of the car, followed by Michael and Ashton, who just sat in the front seat.

“What is-?” Luke tried to ask, but his three friends were quicker as they all said at the same time:

“The baby is coming!” “We needed to get the music box” “The line was too fucking long”

“Hurry up, dude!” Calum said, giving Luke a pat on his shoulder as he stared at them, very confused.

“Why didn’t you just leave the music box with one of them?” He said, motioning to his friends in the back “I could’ve come back for them after I dropped you off…”

The three Australians all looked at eachother like they were the most stupid people on the planet. Until Micahel turned on the megaphone again and said with a defeated voice: “Just drive”

The ride to the hospital was silent as Luke drove through the streets of LA at full speed. Michael even turned on the siren of the megaphone to make way across the traffic jam. How the hell they didn’t end up in jail? A Christmas miracle if you ask me.

Once they got there, Ashton was the first one to jump off the car, followed by his best friends as they ran through the hospital’s floors.

“Irwin!” He said, once they got to the maternity wing “Y/N Irwin! My Wife-”

Luke followed, almost knocking down Ashton as his boots slipped on the floor “His wife!” He said, almost out of breath.

“His baby!” Calum added, almost falling to the floor as he tripped over his foot.

And last but not least came a small “Help?” From Michael who was completely out of breath as he sat on one of the chairs in the waiting room.

The nurse, apparently not taken aback at the sudden outburst of three grown man and a Santa Claus in her waiting room, just smiled at Ashton and said: “Over here, Mr. Irwin. You are just in time, she just started dilating…”

But Ashton didn’t hear much as he walked behind her, anxious to see you and see your baby. Breathing heavily as he tried to calm his nerves before he got to your room. He gave one last look to his friends and smiled at them.

“You can do it man!” Michael said, giving him the thumbs up.

“You go Poppa!” Luke cheered.

“We will be here!” Calum said, feeling tears of pride gather up in his eyes as he watched Ashton turn into another hallway, ready to become the dad he always knew he could be.

“Did you actually steal a Santa costume?” Michael said as the other two sat down next to him.

“And you stole a cart and a megaphone so shut up”

A new family.

You watched with tired eyes as your husband held your baby girl in his arms.

“She is so tiny…” He said with fresh happy tears falling rolling down his cheeks. Ashton started crying as soon as he saw her little face and heard his heart shattering cry.

You almost thought that he wasn’t going to make it in time, afraid that you were going to have to get through the birth of your child all alone. But he came through the doors just in time and he did not let go of your hand for a second, even when you knew you were crushing it as you pushed.

“I love you so much” He said, just as he’s been saying for the past hours since he got here “I love you so much and I love her so much I- Thank you”

“Why are you thanking me, love?”

“For giving me the best gift of all” Ashton said as he laid next to you with your daughter curled up on his chest “You gave me the family I always dreamed of. I could never thank you enough for it”

He slowly lowered his head and pressed his lips to yours, showing you all the love that he could in only one simple kiss.

“Well, it’s not like you didn’t help on making this, you know?” You teased, making him chuckle “I should be thanking you, Ash.You and her are the best thing that has ever happened to me, I love you”

“I love you” He said, capturing your lips in another kiss as you let the music box play in the background, filling the room with the notes of your favorite lullaby.

“Should I let the boys in?” He asked as he passed your daughter back to you. You just nodded, not wanting to let your friends wait a second longer to meet your baby. “Oh, and just a heads up, Calum is dressed as Santa Claus and we might never be allowed on the mall again”

You laughed “I can’t wait to hear that story”

Ashton smiled as he got out of the room and walked towards where the boys were sitting. Once they saw him walk up to them, they immediately got up, all of them smiling proudly at the new - official, father of the band.

“Boys, come and meet our baby girl: Jane Elizabeth Irwin”

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @talksoprettyjjx @mystic-232

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hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 4.5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: guns, fighting, shooting, murder (none of the characters!), fluff??, mentions of insecurities

A/N: This takes place AFTER Neville tosses reader off the balcony.

“Alright boss! I’ve got her, toss her down!” Seamus called, arms outstretched. As much as Neville didn’t want to, he knew the safest option was throwing her down to him. Without another thought he placed a kiss on her forehead before flinging her over the balcony.

Neville sighed, smoothing down loose strands of his hair as he watched Seamus run off with her before disappearing into the distance. He wasn’t worried about his ability to protect her. Seamus was more than capable of getting her home safe and sound. He was worried about how she was feeling and whether she’d be too upset with him about it all. Even though he hadn’t lied to her, he wasn’t fully truthful about what his job really was and he was scared that once she realized, she’d leave.

“Well, let’s get to business.” he said to himself before cocking his gun, making his way inside. As soon as he did so a fist came flying his way which he dodged, jabbing his elbow into the crown of the attackers head. He heard a familiar chuckle, looking up to see Ron there, a small cut on his face.

“That was a close one. Your little girlfriend got you distracted, boss?” he asked. Neville’s response was halted due to another challenger which he shot right in the center of the forehead. He felt a movement behind him, turning around he headbutted the guy causing him to collapse to the ground. He turned back to Ron who was wide eyed, a smirk on his face.

“You were saying?” he felt a movement to his side aiming his gun but quickly lowering it when he saw it was Fred. He was kneeling by the guys who were either dead or passed out, taking the money from their wallets. Neville rolled his eyes, kicking him in the rear which caused him to fall over. “You still do that? What is the point in that, you make more than enough money!”

Fred stood up shrugging as he brushed himself off. “It’s a tradition! We did it on our first ever mission and I’ll do it to the end.” He held up his hands, flashing the fifties and hundreds. “Plus it never hurts to have pocket change.”

“Whatever. Where’s George?” his answer questioned itself as he heard a familiar hyena like laugh combined with the a round of rapid gunshots. “Nevermind. You and George take the basement. I’ve got Blaise searching the more obscure areas. Ron, I’ll stay with you down here. Any questions?” they all shook their heads and he nodded before beginning to walk off. “What’re you doing then? Let’s go!”

So far, everything had been going quite successful. After taking out the majority of the men, they found the ones who were in charge of the missing shipment. They clearly weren’t the ones in charge, he assumed them to be two lower rank goons trying to make their ranks up to whatever rich family they were employed to.

“I’m going to ask you one more time. Who the fuck are you working for?” he asked the guy through gritted teeth, gripping at his jaw harshly. The two men had been refusing to speak since they had been tied up, resulting in them being bestowed a plethora of bruises, cuts, and wounds. Near there feet were a few teeth covered in the remains of their own blood. “No? Okay how about this one then, where is the shipment?” he growled out. The two men continued to look back and forth, scared out of their mind. Neville shrugged, standing up as straight. He shot a look to Ron who snapped his fingers causing one of their men to open the door. In they brought in one of the few enemy men who hadn’t been beaten, killed, or escaped. Without hesitating Neville pulled the trigger, blood splattering on the wall. The men in the chairs jumped, loud sobs and pleas leaving their mind.

The mob boss laughed, walking around them in a circle. He held the gun to the back of the one on the lefts head. “You know, I could take your life just like I did his. I’ve got zero fucks and an insanely bad temper so if you wanna push your luck, so be it.” He trailed the gun over to the side of the man’s head as he leaned down closer to him. “But just know it will cost you your fucking life. I don’t have time for games and your existence just so happens to be one.” the man stuttered, not really saying any real words as he tried to stay still as possible. He removed his gun from that man’s head, putting it on his partners. “Or you? You look weaker than him so why don’t you go ahead and spill?” he felt a puddle at his feet, noticing the guy had completely pissed himself. He grimaced, growling as he dug the gun deeper into his head. “ Your in real deep shit now so I suggest you start speaking.”

“I-it was the Livingstons! They heard about the shipment that was gonna be leaving and told us to do something about it! They sent us all as a warning to tell yous all to step off!” he wailed, his partner nodding frantically from beside him. “We ain’t toss it in no water or nothing! It’s at Belmont pier on the corner of Demona Drive!” Neville hummed in content, pulling the gun away from his head. The men relaxed, sighing in relief. Little did they know, Neville was not being so kind tonight. He was tired and worst of all, they had ripped him away from his flower. Sure it wasn’t directly their fault, but still held some of the responsibility.

“See? Now was that too hard fellas?” he said, taking a seat in the large chair behind the desk in the room. He sighed, a fake pout making its way onto his face. “Unfortunately for you though, you’ve wasted hours of my time and messed up my Givenchy’s. Harry, bring in the twins. I’ve got better places to be. Ron get the car and bring it around front.”

“Th-the twins?! Who are the twins?” he smirked, not turning around as he reached the door.

“Oh you’ll see soon enough. Probably the last thing you’ll see actually. Blaise, Draco. Let’s go.” he said as they all walked out the room, the twins taking their place. As they walked towards the entrance the sounds of screams could be heard from the room.

“I’ve gotta go get something real quick boss, I’ll be right back.” Draco said before running off towards the stairs. Blaise chuckled some, shaking his head as he nudged Neville.

“That was harsh, even for you boss.” he said, opening the car door for the man as he slid in next to him. Neville took out a blunt from his pocket, sparking it. He took a large hit before passing it to Blaise, looking out the window. “Guessing it has something to do with your girl waiting at home?”

“More or less. I just wanna make sure she’s alright. I-I know she’s in good hands but I can’t help to worry. She’s sensitive, you know?” Blaise nodded along, patting the man on the leg.

“I’m sure she’s fine. We’ll be home shortly.” with that, the car door opened once more a giggling Twyla hopping in with Draco who’s face was covered in lipstick.

“That was amazing! I can’t believe you guys get to do that all the time!” she exclaimed, snatching the blunt from Blaise’s hands. Draco tightened his grip on her waist as the car began moving again. Blaise laughed some too, relaxing into his seat.

“Yeah you were a natural out there! Perhaps you’ll consider joi-”

“No absolutely not.” Draco spoke up, taking the blunt from the girl as she stuck it between his lips. He let out a puff, coughing some as he glared at Blaise. She awwed at him, ruffling his hair.

“Aww you care about me? That’s so sweet! But for your information, I wasn’t going to say yes. I enjoy watching the action more than I like being apart of it!” Draco relaxed some, letting out a deep sigh. Neville couldn’t help but laugh at the dynamic they had. Once Harry was in, he told Ron to floor it which he did.

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

When he got to the manor, he went up to his room opening it to see the girl wasn’t in there.

“I figured you’d want me to put her in another room.” Seamus said, startling him. He turned around yawning as he gave him a tired smile.

“Yeah, thanks. I think she’d appreciate her. Is she in the room down the hall from mine?” once Seamus nodded, he walked out of his room heading to down the hall. Once he got there, he smiled at the sight. Twyla had taken the liberty of changing her out of her dress but in her drunken state, forgotten to tuck her in. Lifting her up, he pulled back the silk sheets before tucking her in, pecking her forehead. Neville couldn’t help to smile, she was absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t wait till the day he’d get to wake up next to her, finding her fast asleep in his arms.

‘It wouldn’t help to lie here for a bit, would it?’ he thought to himself. He didn’t plan on staying the night in her room. She had only had her first kiss earlier in the night, a step like this would be sure to make her a bit overwhelmed, especially waking up in a new place. He slid in next to her, letting out a soft groan at the softness of the bed. (Y/n) mumbled something in her sleep, scooting closer to the man, nuzzling her head into his chest. He felt his heart swell. She was too adorable for his own good, every time he looked at her he just wanted to ruin her. Carding his fingers through her hair, he yawned taking a long blink.

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

Neville jolted awake, looking at the analog alarm clock on the side table. 3:30 AM. “Shit.” he mumbled, looking down to see the (h/c) haired girl was still there. He began to slide out the bed, placing a pillow where he was once lying. He grinned softly, brushing her hair out of her face as she snuggled into it. He was glad she was sleeping so well. Neville had worried that the girl would have trouble adapting to everything but to his luck, she was doing just fine.

Closing the door gently, he sighed before making his way back to the room, throwing himself on the Alaska king bed.

“One day.”

PREVIOUS||NEXT

TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @elemental-of-magic @beewitchedlou @simpforremuslupin @mottergirl99 @princesslaiahg @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

#neville longbottom x reader #Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville longbottom x you #neville x you #mafia!neville #mafia!au #mafia #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter #harry potter x reader #neville longbottom x y/n

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ambivalent-anarchy · 4 years

Text

You've Got Moves (Part 2)

Masterlist

Part 1

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warning: None

A/N: Better late than never, right?😂😂 (wow 2 fics in one week that's crazyyy) Also I put one of my favorite comedy tiktoks in the dialogue soooooo oops? Also Harry and Ned are wingmen who share one brain cell and I like it that way

I might make one more part to this but idk

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

It took 7 months for Peter to ask you out.

It took the time for MJ and Asher to become a couple, homecoming to go by, MJ and Asher to break up, winter formal, midterm exams, MJ and Asher to get back together, and Christmas to go before Peter Parker gathered the guts to even consider thinking about asking you out.

Scared wasn't even the word for it.

Harry Osborn, the new transfer student, laughed at how nervous Peter was at lunch. "Asking girls out is easy, Peter. I do it all the time!"

"You say it like it's the simplest thing on earth," Peter dreaded, to which Harry shrugged.

"Because it is! You just ask. How is it that I've only been at this school for 2 months and I've had more chicks than both you and Ned combined?"

"Hooking up is not a hobby of mine. That's why," Peter retorted with a pitifully unintimidating glare.

Harry shrugged with his shit-eating grin. "It's not my fault the girls and gays can't resist these lips."

Ned chimed in as he threw a french fry into his mouth. "Peter, this isn't like Liz last year. You and [Y/N] are already really close, dude. I'm sure you can just ask her. Who knows? She might say yes!"

"But what if she says no?," Peter groaned. "Then I'll just be one of those people she avoids and barely talks to out of awkwardness." He shifted in his seat nervously. "I don't want that."

"But if you don't say anything then you'll always regret it," Ned pointed out.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "Peter, pull out your phone."

Peter raised his eyebrows in confusion, but followed Harry's instructions.

"Go to her in messages and say 'hey let's get dinner'." He smiled. "See? Simple."

Peter opened your messages in his phone and stared at your profile picture.

'You can do this, Peter. You can do this.'

He bit his lip. "Okay but should I say, 'let's get dinner' or 'do you want to get dinner'?" Seeing Harry's impatient face, he explained himself. "I just feel like those two sentences have completely different vibes, y'know?"

Harry glared at him. "Are you really about to have us telling you what to tell your crush like a bunch of girls?"

Peter didn't know how to answer that question seriously. "Uh...yes?"

Harry pondered the question for a small bit before simply shrugging and answering. "Hmm, go with 'let's get dinner', so you'll sound all confident and assertive."

"Okay."

Before Peter could press send without thinking twice, Ned stopped him. "Well, actually now you sound a little aggressive, man."

"Really?," Peter asked with a wince, immediately erasing the message.

"Yeah, I mean the last thing you wanna be like is the guy that's all like 'let's get dinner' like you're some kind of caveman."

Peter groaned. "Oh no, definitely not."

Ned ate another fry. "You want to ask her to dinner, not tell her to dinner."

"I'll go with 'do you want to get dinner' then," Peter said with a nod.

That one didn't sit well with Harry. "No Pete. Cuz now you sound like a pussy."

Peter slammed his phone onto the lunch table. "This stuff is tough!"

Ned turned towards Harry. "No but listen. The last thing Peter wants to do is come off as the overly masculine type that's all like 'let's get dinner cuz I'm the breadwinner, bitch', y'know?"

Harry shook his head. "Yeah but women also love assertiveness. You have to know what you want."

Peter stared at the table, desperately wanting the conversation to be over. Why would he even go to these two for relationship advice? Harry was the king of hookups and Ned's relationships never lasted longer than a few weeks. What was he thinking? For a guy with a 4.5 GPA, he sure did feel stupid.

"I got it!," Ned exclaimed. "Okay. Text her this. 'Dinner would be something that I would enjoy taking you on, but only if YOU were also interested in attending the meal'." He held his hands up for praise.

Harry nodded. "Mhm. Perfect balance. And the more words the better."

Peter just stared back at them, wondering where he'd gone wrong in life. "...no.... I'm not gonna send her that."

Harry shrugged. "Welp,' he sighed. "I guess some people just don't want to be helped."

So close to slamming his head into the table in front of him, Peter felt a tsunami of relief hit when he saw Asher walk into the cafeteria.

Asher was your best friend. If anyone knew the proper way you'd want to be asked out, it'd be him.

The second Asher noticed Peter looking at him, he made his way over. "Hey Peter. What's up?," he asked as he found an empty seat.

Harry spoke up before Peter had the chance. "Hey Ash. Pick one. 'Let's get dinner' or 'do you want to get dinner'."

Asher thought for a second. "Depends on the girl," he said before taking a bite into his apple. "-but 'do you want to get dinner' is nicer. Why?"

Harry slammed his fist on the table. "Damn it!"

"Yes!," Ned cheered.

Asher looked around the table. "Okay, by why?"

Harry and Ned went quiet and looked to Peter, who was staring anywhere to avoid eye contact. He began to mumble pitifully."I....I-i wanna.. I wanna-"

Harry and Ned spoke up, already tired of the conversation not getting anywhere. "He wants to ask-"

"-I wanna ask [Y/N] out!," he blurted, feeling his cheeks start to burn when Asher's smirk turned into a wide grin.

"Well it's about time!," he exclaimed. "She's been crazy about you since you met."

"Really? She has?," Peter asked. That wasn't even in the realm of possibility in his mind.

Asher nodded. "She's always going off to me about how-" he mocked your higher pitched voice. "I've been dropping him hints since, like, foreverrrr!"

"Seriously?! She has?"

Ned laughed. "Well Peter. She has been calling you cute since the day she met you..."

"But I just always thought it was the friendly kind of cute, y'know?," he rambled. "Not the boyfriend type cute!"

"How many girls are out here calling you cute for you to make that assumption, dude?," Harry asked.

Asher sighed. "So this is what it's like to have low confidence." He shook his head and gave Peter a disappointed look. "I can't say I like witnessing this, Pete."

"Just-" Peter groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. "Just tell me what will work, okay? I need to ask her out perfectly."

Asher tilted his head in confusion. "She's a simple girl. You just have to straight up ask her out. What's the confusion there?"

"That's what I said!," Harry yelled.

"You know he's got to make it difficult for himself for no reason," Ned pointed out.

"Okay can we all talk about how terrible I am at this after you help me?," Peter begged.

"...yeah."

"Sure."

"Ugh, fine."

Peter sighed. "Alright. So?"

"What are you going for?," Asher asked. "Like a gift or something?"

"I just want whatever's the absolute best way to ask her out."

Asher pinched the bridge of his nose. If he was gonna set you up with your crush, he wanted it to happen right.

"Okay," he said, staring Peter in the eyes with a new sort of intensity. "Think about your best moments with her. Now pick something special from all those moments and voila! You'll have it!"

Peter nodded and stared at the ground as he thought for a while about everything he'd done with you since the beginning of school. You were truly the most extraordinary, most confident girl he'd ever met.

Every time he'd thought you couldn't get more perfect, you'd just show him another side of you that was better than the rest. He always stayed endlessly impressed and most of all, he felt as if he didn't have to try too hard with you. He could be himself and mess up as many times as he could manage and you still stuck around, showing him that there needn't be any worries.

And your style? Fuck, you could make anything work for him. You were the only one who could get him out of his comfort zone and in front of a camera, for something as frivolous as a TikTok. But he'd always do it, and even find the fun in it, because it made you happy.

"Remember how we freaked out that first time when she called you cute, Pete?," Ned said. "She said that you were cute and that you only had to put it use!"

Harry laughed. "This girl is literally giving you the instructions, Peter. Take them."

"Hmm." Peter looked up with a smile and snapped his fingers. "I got it."

You tossed popcorn into your mouth and snuggled yourself further into the blanket. "Ash, how can you even say that? 'It' is a horror movie!"

"Yeah, technically," he retorted. "But there's literally not a single part of the movie that's scary. It's more of a drama than anything else."

"You realize the clown phobia rate skyrocketed when the movie came out right?"

Asher scoffed. "Uh, your point? It's not my fault some pussies couldn't sit through it. Still a drama. The story definitely played with your emotions more than your fears."

"Whateverrrr," you laughed. "I can't deal with you."

"Pennywise literally got up and did this," he said before breaking out into Pennywise's dance. He laughed as he kicked his legs out. "What kind of horror movie has this crap in it?" He stopped when he felt the full force of you throwing a pillow on his face. "Ugh!"

"Sit down and get under the covers, idiot," you hissed. "I wanna keep watching these HORROR films."

"Whateverrrr," he drawled out, mocking you. He sighed and plopped down next to you, grabbing a handful of popcorn after.

When school was getting suffocating, marathoning horror movies with Asher were a must. He had an endless repertoire and all the time in the world for his best friend.

Halfway through 'It: Chapter 2' though, the movie was the least of your focus and instead was TikTok.

What could you say? The app was addictive.

It was a big, entertaining, completely useless collage of everything every no-name had to offer, from stupid debates to cringey POV's to fun dance routines.

You tried to hook every friend you could on it. Asher, of course, already knew about it since it first came out and he, of course, had thousands of followers because most of what he posted was random thirsts traps whenever he was feeling hot, which was always. And thirsts traps are always in high demand for the people on TikTok.

You tried to hook MJ on it, but she'd already decided that she didn't like it before even giving it a chance. Even the messy, political side didn't reel her in.

Of course then there was Peter, who didn't know was TikTok even was before he met you. You made it your sole mission to get him hooked, but you'd since given up on that. It was a lost cause. The only time he probably ever saw TikTok nowadays was when he was doing dances with you before gym started. He let you put the app on his phone but he never used it. You wouldn't even put it past him to have deleted it, but it was whatever. TikTok had started his friendship with you, so needless to say, it'd done an amazing job in your life.

Plus your followers were always asking about him. All of the "omg couple goalssss" and "you guys look so cute together" served as massive confidence boosters. A girl can dream, right?

You shifted over a bit when you felt Ash getting closer and closer to you.

When he moved over again, you scooted away, only for him to get closer again. "Ash, what is your deal?"

"Easy there," he chuckled, backing up a little. "I'm looking at the phone, not you."

"You've been all up in my phone all day, what's up?"

"I can't tell you," he shrugged, a sly smirk stretching across his face. "But," he pointed to your tiny screen. "Some idiot is taking wayyyy too long to shoot his shot."

"Shoot his shot?" You gasped. "Who?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," he said with a smirk.

"Nooooo," you whined. "If someone has a crush on me you gotta spill! C'mon, please?"

He laughed and repeated himself. "I'm sorry, but I am not at liberty to say!"

"Bullshit! Who is it? C'mon! C'monnnnnn!"

He shrugged and this time you knew that he was dead set on not giving up the mystery guy.

"Ugh," you pouted. "Fine. Let's just finish the stupid movie."

"Kids next door, battle stations!!!!"

And now it was sometime after midnight. The popcorn was all gone. The movie was done and now you were watching old cartoons so that the horror movie wouldn't be the last thing on your mind before bed.

Looking over, you saw that Asher didn't need any cartoons like you did. He was already passed out, snoring as loud as ever.

Grumbling in boredom, you stared at the wall, trying to connect the tiny dots in the designs. It was like something was officially keeping you from being able to fall asleep.

*Ding!*

At the sound of your phone receiving a text, you sat up curiously. Who was texting you at this hour?

You smiled when you saw that it was Peter.

Pete: hey y/n

You were about to send him a quick,"why are you up this late" text, but he kept typing.

Pete: pls dont judge me too hard for this

With that completely vague warning, you furrowed your eyebrows, concerned.

Y/n: whats up r u okay

He sent you a link next, which confused you, but not as much as when you actually pressed it.

It led you to TikTok, and the video was waiting to be pressed to start. Peter was standing in the middle of the screen with one of his typical corny sweatshirts on. The caption at the top read: "For [Y/N] Only". Smiling already, you quickly pressed play.

You slapped your hand over your mouth. "Oh my God."

"So he finally got the guts, huh?," Asher mumbled, having woken up from the loud music on your phone but was still half-asleep.

"Oh I'm sorry, did I wake you?," you asked. You turned down your phone.

"Don't worry about me, you just got a boyfriend," he chuckled, moving to lay down so he could get to sleep again. "Text him back for god's sake."

~~~

Y/n: its been almost a whole year and youre still so cute when you make those

Pete: haha thanks

Pete: uh

Pete: i really like you y/n

Pete: do u think you'd wanna go out with me or get dinner sometime?

~~~

"He asked me out," you gasped. "Ash, he asked me out!"

Asher rolled over and groaned. "I thought that was already established? Jesus, you two couldn't possibly be moving any slower."

You rolled your eyes. "Fuck you."

"Nah, you're with Peter now," he laughed. "You're gonna have to fuck him instead!" That comment earned him another pillow to the face.

You looked back at the messages and sent a tiny cute one. You smirked at the new idea of what was about to happen and turned it off before going to sleep.

~~~

Y/n: kiss me at school tomorrow and find out

~~~

Didn't do a third edit cuz I got lazy but I'm pretty happy with the turnout anyway. Thanks for reading!

Tagging: @allegra-writes, @allegra-soleil, @yumings, @hey-its-grey, @spideyyeet, @sunkissedspidey, @tommyunderoos, @chaoticpete, @snarky--starky, @sovereignparker, @thesherlockianavenger, @bubblebucky, @kelieah, @eridanuswave, @ithoughtthiswastwitterbutfr, @kidney9-9, @gwenvrse

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aizawaskittenwhore · 4 years

Text

𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭

pairing: cartel!shota aizawa x fem!reader

words: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, this will be a cartel!au, so mentions of c*ke and distribution...yeah lol, suggestive content towards the end of the chapter (vague description of a bj), angst, cheating, aizawa just ain’t shit in this story LMFAOOO

a/n: this is the third fucking time i’ve tried to post this so if it doesn’t work i’m gonna cry. but I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE and i can’t wait for you all to see what i’ve got planned. so uh...strap yourselves in it’s about to get crazy. sorry ms joke </3

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐚’ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

The salty, warm breeze from the ocean whipped its way through Shota’s onyx locks, tossing them around with a gentle force. Miami was gorgeous from the water, skyscrapers alight with the buzzing energy of the city, streets crawling with good food and even better looking women. Gorgeous full lips wrapped around martini glasses, criminally short dresses clinging to any skin it was given. He didn’t care much for the nightlife, opting to observe the partygoers from a distance.

He wasn’t here to socialize.

He was here to work.

His wrists draped over the edge of the rail that separated him and the water, a small portion of his weight against the cool metal. When Hizashi suggested that he get a yacht he nearly spat out his whiskey, face contorted in an expression of annoyance and disdain. Shota didn’t understand why someone would need such a flashy boat, it was merely a watercraft meant for travel and or fishing. This wasn’t the 1400’s where one’s worth was tied to the size of a man’s ship. Just another glorified pissing contest for rich people with too much money, and not enough couple’s therapy in the world that could keep them home for days at a time.

It’s not as if he was in any position to judge though, his pinky coming to rest just below the silver band that rarely inhabited his ring finger these days. He doesn’t entirely know what possessed him to wear it, whether it be the ever-crushing guilt from lying to his wife, or the text he’d received from Emi this morning that read:

“Make sure to bring me back a mojito! Don’t work yourself too hard, and remember how much I love you!💕”

If only she knew that these tri-monthly “Inter-Departmental Hero Conferences” were just fronts for selling a literal boat-load of cocaine.

Turns out, yachts were really good for that.

In the span of just five years, superhuman society was nearing it’s peak. Upon the graduation of all the students in the 1-A Hero Course, and Izuku Midoriya’s induction as the new Symbol of Peace; the world began to see an astronomical shift. Crime rates were the lowest they’d ever been, with Japan and the States sitting at 2 and 4.5 percent, respectively. Newly minted Pro Heroes roamed the streets, bringing security to those who needed it and striking fear into the hearts of those who were on the wrong side of the law.

But this utopia came at a price. With the sudden influx of fresh and talented pros, crime decreased exponentially, leaving little villain-based work for Heroes to get paid for. Hostage situations and evacuation efforts took backseat to helping older women across the street and assisting young children with their schoolwork. Soon enough, peace became a burden for those whose careers surrounded chaos.

Aizawa was no exception to this dilemma. Once Midoriya and his classmates graduated and obtained their Hero Licenses, he’d ended his tenure as an instructor at UA. He felt that he’d done his civic duty as a teacher and a Pro, and produced some of the finest Heroes the world would come to see. So he began to settle down. Surprisingly, he’d begun to tolerate Joke’s incessant laughter and boisterous personality, and soon fell in love with the eccentric woman. Between patrols and giving advice to aspiring Heroes at the community center, he and Emi explored all the the world had to offer; swapping out steel-toed combat boots for soft plush flip flops against hot sand. After three years he’d proposed, much to Emi’s delight (and Ashido’s upon hearing that Mr. Aizawa could actually tolerate another human being). The ceremony was small, and intimate. Shinsou serving as the ring bearer, and Eri as the flower girl. Mic even shed a few tears during the toast, though he’ll deny it if Kayama ever brings it up.

For a while, things were good. Life was good. Emi was glowing with the energy of a new life blossoming inside her, and Shota fantasized about meeting his little girl, counting all of her dainty fingers and toes, and doting on her for all to see.

Or at least it was, before agencies began to close. Paychecks got smaller and smaller. Heroes were struggling to find work and their pockets began to struggle along with them. With Emi on maternity leave, and Hero society coming to a standstill, things were looking grim. He needed to provide for his family, his wife, his children.

He needed a plan, and fast.

Luckily, Hizashi always did have good standing with everyone’s favorite Bird Boy. So he called in a few favors.

“Just for a couple months man! We stir up a little bit of noise, make a couple ripples and bam! Crime rate’s back up, and we get back to makin’ money. It’s temporary. Nobody will ever know, I’ll make sure of it. I got you.” Hizashi pleaded, an arm slung across Aizawa’s shoulders as he pensively gazed into his glass of amber liquid. He’d done some vigilante work here and there in his twenties but this....this was outright criminal. But what choice did he have?

Just a few months, he’d said. If only it’d worked out that way.

“I was getting worried you wouldn’t show, Eraser!” Zhu thundered, hands clapping joyously at the other man’s timeliness. “That’s some boat you got there, let me guess...the wife’s idea?” He queried, eyebrows waggling emphatically as Aizawa descended from the metal ladder and onto the wooden pier; eyes rolling into the back of his head at Zhu’s...excitable personality. The two had known each other for about two years or so, having gotten acquainted over the course of Shota’s many trips between Japan and the States, and sometimes South America. Zhu Kanaka was a man of the lower ranks, opting to use his easygoing disposition to negotiate deals for Takami “Lord of The Skies” Keigo, better known as Hawks. Standing at a solid 6 foot 4, with thick black locks that spiked into a point reminiscent of an onion, thick bushy brows and a set jaw, you’d think he wouldn’t hesitate to punt anyone like a football.

At least until he opened his mouth.

“As it turns out, Emi hates the damn thing. Makes her seasick. Hizashi talked me into getting the fuckin’ eyesore.” He intoned. His left hand palmed his slacks for the emergency pack of cigarettes he kept in his back pocket for when he was stressed during a deal, although he never really needed them anymore after Eri said she wanted him to quit. He still held on to them though, just in case. “The hell you waiting for? You know the deal man. Let’s see it.” He muttered, silently willing for Zhu to get on with it so he could get in a bed. Three and a half hours on a goddamned boat (that you didn’t even want to begin with) will do that to you.

“Someone looks like he needs a nap. Alright, I got ya. Count it, make sure it’s all there. I had Thing 1 and Thing 2 back there pack it, so you might wanna double check.” Zhu quipped, jerking a thumb towards the two young men currently engaged in a heated game of Rock, Paper, Scissors; the pair of them flushing upon receiving one of Aizawa’s infamous stares. Two thick black duffles were handed to his two bodyguards, the men immediately unzipping and checking the stacks, a mental tally steadily climbing higher and higher as they sifted through the cash.

“He’s good. Four hundred thousand in each bag. It’s all there, Eraser.” Sato affirmed, Toru nodding alongside the man. “Good. Go ahead and call Jamie, tell him to bring the car around. Zhu, I’ll send Sato and Toru to help your men unload our shipment. It’s a hefty one, so you’ll need the assistance.” Shota offered, shoulders visibly relaxing at the thought of getting some alone time in an empty hotel room.

“Yeah that’d be great, thanks! How long you in town for?”

“Until about 3pm tomorrow. I’ll be on my flight back to Kyushu then.” He states, right arm extending to clasp the other man’s hand in a firm grip. “You’re goin to that meeting the Big Man’s holding in a few days right?” Zhu queries. “Unfortunately, yes. Gonna miss my little girl’s first doctor’s appointment for this shit.”

“No way! She had the baby?!?!? Congratulations man! How’s it feel?” Zhu exclaims, eyes alight with joy for his friend’s new addition to the family. “Feels good. She had a smooth pregnancy, everything worked out fine. Hana’s beautiful, and healthy. I couldn’t be more proud.” Shota brags slightly, heart swelling at the thought of his little girl and how proud he was to know he’d helped in making someone so...ethereal. “Wow. Raising another kid, you flying out all the damn time, along with whatever else you got goin on?? No wonder you look like shit.”

Red eyes and floating hair caused Zhu to immediately retract his former statement.

“Aw I’m just joshin’ Eraser! But I hear ya. It’s a lotta’ sacrifices that go into this, but they’re who we do it for. All of it. Ya know?” Zhu amends, eyes shimmering with the reflection of the city lights off of the water.

Did he even know who... or what he was doing this for anymore?

Shota found himself asking that question more and more often as of late.

“...Right.”

“Anyway, you’re probably spent, so I’ll leave you to it. It was good seeing you man, send Emi my love!” Zhu shouted as he slowly walked towards the men unloading his boat. “Likewise. Tell Macie and the kids I said hello.” Aizawa responded dryly, body screaming for some kind of relief from this exhaustion.

“Will do! Oh, by the way! You might wanna bring some cooler clothes and sunscreen with your pale ass, I hear Guadalajara’s pretty sunny around this time of year! See you in a few days man!” The male laughed, throwing him a wave as he slowly disappeared into the darkness of the port. Massaging the bridge of his nose in irritation, Aizawa nodded in acknowledgement as Jamie pulled up alongside him; his hand reaching for the handle and dragging his siphoned body into the backseat.

Jamie could sense his employer’s weary expression, and didn’t make any attempts at conversation, merely opting to start making his way to the hotel while smooth jazz floated through the car. Forehead against the door of the towncar, Shota typed out a quick message to his wife:

“Alcohol is the last thing you need sweetheart, and I love you too. Got another meeting in a few days, mandatory. I’ll in be in Mexico, so I’ll miss Hana’s appointment. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to the two of you.”

Sent.

The message sat for a few seconds before Emi read and typed out a response:

“Aw, bummer! </3 Dont worry, work is much more important right now. I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures!”

“You don’t have to make it up to us, you caring is enough. Get some sleep old man, me and the girls love you. xoxo, Wifey 😘 ”

He didn’t deserve her.

He didn’t deserve any of them.

This he knew. And yet, it didn’t stop him from responding to the unknown number that texted his phone every time he happened to be in town.

“Same time and place? Desperately in the mood to play....My toys just aren’t as good as yours, Eraser. ;)”

His heart sank. A beat passes. Then two.

Calloused thumbs move fluidly across the screen. He’s done this far too many times.

“Be there in 10. You know the routine.”

And in retrospect...he would’ve been way better off just blowing off Guadalajara and going to Hana’s appointment.

Because while he wrapped her slick ponytail around his hand, as a head that wasn’t his wife’s dipped between his legs, he didn’t think this would be his last moment of peace. Shoved down the throat of a woman who’s name he had long forgotten, settling for calling her whatever pet name he felt like adorning her with, her hands clawing at the soft and sleek cotton of his trousers.

Aizawa never anticipated that this would be the last time he would be in a room without immediate reinforcements, and be content.

The last time someone he didn’t trust with his life knew his location, and he wasn’t terrified.

The last moments of peace in his world before it all went to hell.

Temecula, California;

1:36am

The office floor was barren. Dark, coffee stained carpet congealed with the bacteria of old and new; giving it a sad beige color from the creamy foam-like white it was when the building was built. Cubicles cluttered with miscellaneous paperwork from separate departments, all of it raining down from desk to desk like a fresh layer of snow on the first day of winter. Tired, weary hands typed at a computer with precision and accuracy, the warm glow from the screen illuminating the buttons on her blouse as she plowed through each document. Her body raged for a moment of rest, but she couldn’t give in. Not when so much was at stake, not when so much needed to be done in so little time.

After a few minutes, and approximately twelve sips of bittersweet lukewarm coffee, the fingers came to a halt. A sigh of relief was freed from her body as she pushed the enter button on the dusty, tan keyboard and began to pack up for the night. Since the computers were set on an activity timer, there was no need for her to physically shut it down. After 30 seconds of no visible movement, the screen flashed a message declaring that the activity would be suspended within the next 2 minutes if no motion was detected. Content with her work, she slung her work bag over her shoulder, and trudged towards the elevator, mentally clocking out for the night.

As the elevator slowly carried its passenger down, the computer continued its countdown before discontinuing its power, leaving the following words for nobody but its future recipient to read:

Drug Enforcement Agency Operative Travel Request:

Agent: L/N, F/N

Current Operation: Potential formation of a rising cartel under the leadership and or affiliation of Pro Heroes Hawks, Endeavor, and Eraserhead. Agent has been undercover for eight months and twenty-seven days.

Investigation Status: Active

Location of Travel: Guadalajara, Mexico

Reason for Request: Possible gathering of multiple Hero-Run plazas to discuss further movement. Will gather more intel and gain trust of suspects involved/acquire more resources for investigation.

Travel Request Status: Accepted.

#shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x female reader #aizawa x you #mha x reader #aizawa x reader #nyafterhours

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justoneday-namjoonii · 4 years

Text

Don’t Breathe 5.5 | sneak peek

»Genre: hitman!au || angst, fluff ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of borderline Stockholm syndrome and Lima syndrome, brief mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, mental trauma mentioned, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is pure fiction ok, kidnappers and stalkers DO NOT love you.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was paid to get rid of everyone who witnessed the exchange between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month later, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it? He couldn’t do it.

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt. 4.5 - pt. 5.0 - pt.5.5 - pt.6.0

author’s note: if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please comment on this post or send an ask~💖 p.s prepare the tissues😭🤧

taglist: @tangledsparkles @just-another-fangurl21 @impartoftoomanyfandoms @komorebi-unnie @tangledsparkles@yes-sol-not-soul (sorry :( tumblr won’t let me tag you) @sarzkh31

Release Date: 09/06/20🌻 -

His hands naturally settle on your waist, as if you were greeting him after a long day from work. It feels as perfect as always, he wants to make it last. If this is the last five minute he gets to have with you, he wants to savor how you feel, how you make him feel. He’ll miss this, the touching, the chemistry that you put into words so perfectly. Your hands that grab at him when he’s in bed, the eyes that linger on him when he cooks, life won’t feel the same without that. The late nights of sweet breathless pants meeting his ears, the warm strain in his body that grants you both a fleeting moment of ecstasy. Gritted teeth, knitted brows, smiles, keening into your chest—intimacy. The frosting you put on his nose, the stumbling in the yard to run away from him, the joyous laughter over movies. He never had fun with anyone the way he did with you.

“Taehyung,” You break the kiss, getting off of your tippy-toes to rest your ankle,“I don’t know what’s going on...” You lean into him, breathing in his sweet scent and nuzzling your face into his chest.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, I saw you got hurt and I didn’t know how bad it was,” He smooths your hair down, “I couldn’t sleep last night, I didn’t think he’d let me see you again.”

“Let you see me?...

He loves you too much to make you run for the rest of your life, and you know it.

“I was in a room a the whole time. I was given food and water, I showered everyday, the conditions were sanitary...But I never saw anyone.”

That was your day in interrogation room 2. They apologized for having to bring you back but they needed to tape your testimony for Leu’s court case. The video will be shown in court to further prove the damage to the only surviving victim, you. The young lawyer on the case in your defense, Jeon Jungkook, wanted to question you with Yoongi by his side. It worked out, you had an appointment with your therapist that day so you figured you’d get it over with.

“So,” Jungkook continues to jot points down on the notepad, “the bruises that were fading on your wrists the day you were rescued, that was from being tied up at some point?”

You nod, hands finicky in your lap.

“Can you tell me about the day you were abducted?”

“I- Um...That day I got home kind of late, I was really tired so after I showered I drank something and went to bed.”

“The drink was confirmed to be drugged, so you know that’s why you were in such a deep sleep,” He affirms when you nod, “and you woke in strange place, right?”

“Yes,” You swallow, recalling the scene that you had tried all this time to block from your memory, “I was handcuffed and really scared, I didn’t understand what was happening...”

“And in the report it says you were told you why you were there, is that correct?”

You nod.

“You knew you were there because Mr. Leu wanted dead,” Again, you nod, “alright. Now, I know you’ve had a few appointments with psychologist Elaine Woods and she diagnosed you with some conditions as a result of this traumatic event, is that right?”

“Yes...”

Yoongi’s eyes narrows at you, hyper-aware of your reactions.

“So, you would say that what you went through has made an negative impact on your life,” You hesitate for a moment, but nod nonetheless, “would you tell me what those conditions are?”

“ASD, social anxiety disorder, and depression...”

“And how do those conditions affect your everyday life now? Is it hard sometimes to get out of bed in the morning?”

It is. Everyday you make a little bit of progress, every week your therapist says you’re doing great, just don��t push yourself too much. You sit there and tell him how you feel, you tell him that you’re struggling, that feel you lost and out of place in life. Last week, you spent an entire day trying to convince Suzy to put you back on the job. To avoid any bad press, you turned down interviews from papers everywhere. You just wanted to work, you were eager to jget back to your old job. She wasn’t convinced, she said that you needed time to heal before throwing yourself into work. Yet, somehow you convinced her to let you come to the office to and talk to her boss. That day you realized that things would never be the same there.

“We missed you!”

You walked into the office and your coworkers, some you never even talked to stood around a little cake in the break room. Putting on a happy face, you thanked everyone for their kindness, but you knew in your heart that it was partly out of pity. You were overthinking everything anyone said to you, it was exhausting how paranoid you were to be around people. So many times you wanted to run out and throw-up from how overwhelmed you were but you pushed it down. Eventually, as everyone started to trickle out, Suzy’s boss pulled you aside.

“Y/n, you are so strong,” She looked at you like you had really done something great, “I wanted to know if you’d be willing to write about what you went through? We already have a story on you, you could write the concluding piece.”

The life drained from your face, she just wanted to use you. You told her you would have to think about it before promptly leaving without a proper goodbye. Suzy was right, you weren’t ready. You were far from that point in this process. After fleeing the party, you threw up in the lobby bathroom. You cried for a little bit in the empty stall, trying to pull yourself together before leaving. After cleaning yourself up, you drove to your new apartment, where you called Jin and cried again. You were in such bad shape that he drove all the way to check on you in the middle of the night. It didn’t help that you drank a half a bottle of wine but you were out of options, nothing felt right so you decided not to feel at all.

“Kev, cut the cameras,” You’re shaken from your daze when Jungkook stands up suddenly, exchanging a look with the man behind the camera, “we need to take a 5-minute break. Y/n, let me get you something to drink.”

Yoongi watches as Jungkook and the camera man leave the room. On the little couch, you sit, eyes void of all emotion.

“Are you alright?” Yoongi gets up to kneel in front of you. “Is this too much for you? Just say the word and we can finish later-...”

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huacheng-zhu · 4 years

Text

ok so 2ha. vague spoilers ahead (important spoilers are warned but watch out)

that’s a solid 4.5/5 for me. this novel RUINED me and I loved it for it. it made me feel like very few novels (and even stories in general) did. today I’m STILL shaken over a part of it that I read two days ago, despite the happy ending. I have A Lot of thoughts (shout-out to @whateverwuxian who can testify that I couldn’t shut up about it, love you buddy!!) so I just went ahead and [gestures below]

starting with the negative so we can enjoy all the positive later. feel free to discuss but I’m extra sensitive and these are only my personal feelings so they probably won’t change anyway, so be nice please!

what I didn't like:

too many r*pe scenes. I get that the non-con """makes sense""" narratively and thematically but like. they didn't have to be explicit. at the very least not all of them. sorry but too much is too much. there are more non-con sex scenes/flashbacks than consensual sex scenes! stop! we get it! enough now!

not a fan of a 26yo falling in love with a 16yo. if cwn had initiated Anything I would’ve thrown the novel out the window. but thankfully it didn’t happen, I got invested, and nothing mutual happened until mo ran was 22, so I mostly got over it, but I’m still somewhat uncomfortable with it for very personal reasons.

their first time putting it in. it felt so unfair and I was very upset over it. it could’ve worked without going There? why. was that necessary. and it's heartbreaking for both of them, because mo ran didn't want to do it either. he wanted them to take all their time. he wanted to go step by step. all he wanted was to make sure cwn would be happy and comfortable and never hurt again in bed. for their first time that way he wanted it to be special. but it was just. taken away from them, and for what? for nothing there’s absolutely no reason for it. I get there’s the metaphorical foreshadowing of the upcoming reveal aspect (spoilers) both of them not consenting, mo ran being horrified -> the reveal that mo ran was cursed and so would’ve never wanted to treat cwn like this in the past either if he’d had control (end spoilers) but still?? and it’s never brought up again? I know they don’t get the time until the very end but hhhh. yeah I have Feelings over this

some plot twists hit good emotionally but had no point? thinking of the one about xue meng here.

there’s horny, and then there’s mo ran. it’s not a bad thing, it’s just not the kind of stuff I like reading about and book 1 and 2 are A Lot on that side so in book 2 after a while ME, THE BIGGEST ASEXUAL WHO COULDN’T CARE LESS ABOUT SEX SCENES, WAS LIKE, “oh my god have mercy please just fuck already I beg of you” and indeed they chilled a bit after that. like they were still horny but. less intensely and less all the fucking time. thank god (I still think the farm arc was hilarious to witness though, and I did love it)

kinda wish their reunion at the end was longer and more emotional but that’s just because I love that shit

(spoilers) kinda wish we got to see shi mei again before he went off doing his blind wandering doctor stuff. a talk with ranwan would’ve been very interesting. (end spoilers)

xue meng didn’t get a hug

that one thing at the end you know the one. maybe I'd be more into it if it'd been given time to be explored seriously and wasn't played off as a joke. it kinda ruined the mood of their last scene for me. (spoilers spoilers spoilers this is the end of this section if you don’t want to get spoiled) in that scene I wanted chu wanning to ride off into the sunset with mo ran, not txj. like, txj is the alternate world’s “if there had been no transmigration” version of mo ran 2.0. the whole point is that mo ran IS txj in book 1, but changes and becomes mo ran 2.0. mo ran 2.0, who by the end of the novel has already done all the redemption and deconstruction of his dubious habits. who he was as txj is long behind him. at this point txj will always be a part of who he was, but they are pretty much two 'different' people now. txj disappearing into dust after everything that happens at the end was beautiful symbolism. it meant something. to me there was no point keeping txj around after all that other than for “haha split personalities fighting over cwn’s attention uwu” THAT SAID the fact I'm not a fan of the idea doesn't mean I don't like txj. I care txj a lot and have Emotions over him, and I will definitely eventually explore this in my writing

(still spoilers) the demonic blood reveal was a bit.... deus ex machina? plus I personally would've preferred mo ran staying a regular person (end spoilers)

alright what I liked now:

the themes, both regarding the characters and the various plot elements. this novel really challenges your morals and what you think is right or wrong, what’s redeemable, what’s punishable, and how much one relies on first impressions, amongst other things. this novel is the definition of “don’t judge a book by its cover” but also “look further than the first page” in so many ways

the romance. like I don’t need to say anything there. just, the slow burn, the longing, the yearning, the romance [clutches heart]

the plot twists/reveals. I’m so glad I was barely spoiled (I was spoiled two Big things but very vaguely so I was still surprised) because pretty much all of them had me shouting “WHAT” and/or gaping and/or various “what the fuck!!!”/”holy SHIT”/“NO” reactions

the way a lot of those reveals just completely change your view on things/characters?? that’s my jam

wontons. that was the first time I cried and my first very physical reaction to an event in this novel. I literally felt like time froze. I heard my heart beating. it was painful but AMAZING.

might be nothing in the grand scheme of things but honestly, all the food! I love that mo ran is an excellent cook and can make all those delicious dishes for cwn. as someone who loves to cook for their loved ones I think it’s so lovely that he gets to do that

the character growth. for everyone, but mo ran in particular? like I just. I started off not liking mo ran very much, straight up despising him at times, and in the end I was fucking sobbing over him and cried myself to sleep only to wake up in the middle of the night to cry some more so there’s that

chu wanning? there were aspects of him that I related to heavily, and that felt both like the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known and very special because it doesn’t happen to me that often

the whole deaging arc. that was deaging done right and it had a purpose in the narrative and their relationship growth, I was “!!!!”

I LOVE how they took their time with EVERYTHING once they got together? that it spanned over several weeks? that it started with the confession, then just holding hands, then kissing, then making out, then sex, and even the sex was step by step! it said A LOT about mo ran’s character growth and it respected SO MUCH the fact that cwn is a 32yo (unrelated but (spoilers) I like to argue that yeah he’s been alive for 32 years but when you’ve been asleep and not aging physically nor growing mentally for five years in a way that makes you a 27yo. so when he calls his body “mature and old” and compares himself to shi mei I’m just. buddy your body is just three years older than shi mei’s there’s barely any difference in maturity right there. I know it’s your lack of self-worth speaking, and believe me I get it, but don’t be so hard on yourself. (end spoilers) anyway, this is an unimportant and unrelevant thought that I had during the mirror scene) who has no experience in any of these things whatsoever. he's not pushed into sex like he's going to be comfortable right off the bat and like it isn’t such a big change in a life that’s been ascetic so far. mo ran is aware of that! and when they have their first time mo ran, who’s been maybe even more horny than cwn all this time - seriously horny is that guy’s middle name, who initiated the sex, what does he say!!! "don't worry about me, tonight, I just want to make you feel good"??? mo ran?? your character development??? I appreciated that so much.

the pain. I’m still bleeding on the floor despite the happy ending but yeah. I like angst and I was not disappointed. it didn’t feel that gratuitious to me, more like, brutally honest? I don’t cry that easily but by the end I think I’d cried, what, close to ten times??

quite a few excellent quotes [lies down] “I realized - I had grown into the you in my heart”?? “hell is too cold”??? I highlighted more but those two are the ones that always come to my mind first

most of the time the flashbacks were perfectly inserted for maximum emotional damage and I respect that skill

xue zhengyong. like he’s not my favourite, my favourites are xue meng, nangong si and ye wangxi but? I just adored him so he gets a special mention

the side characters? like, I legit loved Everyone? when I cry over side characters you know it’s serious

THE CONFESSION SCENE. LIKE. HOLY SHIT MY HEART. it comes reaaally close to the vocal one (because hua cheng confesses so many times without words) at the end of tgcf for me. it was beautiful. I was so emotional. the fact that cwn can't say it no matter how much he feels it. like it's always been plain and clear just how much he loves mo ran. but he can't say the words yet and I just. the fact that mo ran gets it? that he doesn't need the words, just that squeeze of fingers, just what cwn is, at that moment, able to give him, and it doesn't mean less to him than words would? it hit home real hard

unless I think of something else, that’s about it! I can’t recommend 2ha enough, that said, I beg of you, heed the warnings. they are NOT overstated. and even if there were no warnings, take care anyways. the angst is serious, it haunts you. angst always makes me feel like my chest is being squeezed and that’s precisely the feeling I’m looking for when I choose to read angst. I have good tolerance to it, so despite not doing entirely well lately, I thought I was tough and went for it, but I’m a CLOWN. the way it’s written ruins you. this morning despite reading the hardest part of the angst on saturday evening, I still had some physical chest pain. so I recommend it with all my heart, but take care of yourselves. 2ha doesn’t fuck around.

#2ha #bee talks #i will probably tweak and add to this post over time because I probably forgot stuff #anyways I'm gonna go lie down and cry over ranwan as I think about my fic ideas #2ha review

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writings-of-a-daphodil · 4 years

Text

Fire Keeper: Chapter 4.5

Douxie x fem reader

Chapter 1

Masterlist in bio!

Series Summary: You are Jim’s older sister who is taking a break from college and has moved back home to Arcadia. You end up joining Jim and his friends on their adventures. Chapter 4.5 summary: Douxie's POV of the road trip!

“Do you mind if I join you?” Douxie asked, he had heard the voices at the other end of your phone call and now he was almost certain you were a sorceress. He also realized that you were probably rather new to your powers seeing as he had never really sensed them before.

He wanted to go with you not only to confirm his theory, but to also help you out. He didn’t have too many dealings with trolls or gumm-gumms recently, but he knew that they could be nasty sometimes. He also wondered how you had gotten mixed up with them.

“I mean it’s not going to be much fun. I’m going to pick up a package, but, um, sure,” you said and Douxie smiled.

“Alright, just let me close up shop.”

“Take your time,” you said, focusing on your phone.

Douxie quickly took care of everything and walked back up the stairs. “Do you mind if I bring Archie? I promise he’ll be great.” He watched as your eyes lit up when he mentioned his framilier.

You smiled, “Works for me.”

The two of you walked to your car and got in. “So, why do you want to go to Hesperia?” You asked and Douxie suddenly felt bad about lying to you.

He looked out the window and stroked Archie. “I have a few friends I’d like to see.”

“You can do that while I get the package. You don’t want to wait with me in the post office anyways.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, looking out the window again.

~~~~

“Are you sure you don’t need me to drive you anywhere?” You asked. “It’s just a bunch of houses out here.”

Douxie shook his head. Technically he wasn’t going to a friends house so technically you couldn’t drive him. “It looks like a lovely day to walk and my friend doesn’t live too far from here.”

“Alright enjoy your walk.” You stepped out of the car and your hair was immediately messed up by the wind. Douxie grabbed Archie and felt his own hair get tousled. You laughed quietly.

“Oh don’t laugh at me. Your hair is just as wild,” he joked and you laughed louder. You had a nice laugh.

“See you back here at five?”

“See you then, darling.” The last word slipped out of his mouth and turned to walk away.

Archie looked over his shoulder watching for when you would get inside the post office. “I believe she just entered the building, but it’s hard to tell without my glasses. Turn the corner to be safe.”

Douxie did as Archie said then carefully backtracked to the window of the post office. There was a long line and it didn’t look like it was moving fast.

“So she’s a sorceress and she helps out the Trolls,” Archie summed up.

“It appears that way,” Douxie said as he adjusted his position so he didn’t look conspicuous. He sat under the window while Archie stood on his shoulders and looked through.

“How much training do you think she has? She looks rather young.”

“I don’t know, I want to ask her, but I don’t know how. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to other wizards.”

“You’ll never know until you ask,” Archie said.

After a while you made it to the front of the line and you were heading out the door so Douxie and Archie left the window. They hadn’t learned much over their time spying and you had managed to almost catch them.

Douxie and Archie did however learn you were a sorceress and the trollish markings on the package confirmed that you worked either with or for trolls. But Douxie didn’t feel like it was the right time to talk with you.

So instead he went and brought donuts at a nearby shop. As he walked back to the car he saw you hand up your phone and sigh. It was probably your brother, he seemed to call you often.

He smiled. “I got some food.” He handed you the bag.

“Yum!”

The two of you got in the car and you began to drive. As you made your way to the freeway, Douxie ate and admired the scenery. It may have just been a desert, but it had its own type of beauty.

You pulled off the freeway and Douxie and Archie looked around confused. You gestured to the view in front of you.

As the sun slowly fell beyond the horizon colors were painted across the sky. There were pinks, purples, and oranges gracing the sky and coloring the few clouds that were out. It was an incredible sight.

“The sunsets in the desert are the best,” you said in a matter-of-fact way.

“I’ve seen some pretty spectacular sunsets,” Douxie said, then glanced at you, “and this one is definitely up there.”

The two of you finished eating in silence and Douxie was able to see that the desert was just as gorgeous at night as it was during the day. This road trip would be a memory he would treasure forever.

~~~~

Thunder roared and lightning flashed in the sky as the two of you neared Arcadia.

Your phone began to ring, interrupting the music. “Can you get that?” You asked.

“Sure.” Douxie answered the phone. “It’s Jim?”

“My little brother,” you explained. “You’re on speaker Jimbo.”

“Hey, Y/n, please tell me you’re back from...your errand,” your brother sounded worried and Douxie hoped things were alright.

“I’m fifteen minutes out, why?” You responded and Douxie could tell by just the tone of your voice how much you loved and cared for your brother.

“I really need you to pick me up. Mom can’t and Claire just got picked up. There’s...something out here. I'm going to start riding for home. I'll meet you at the bridge.”

“I’ll be there soon. Call Toby.” Douxie hung up and looked out the window as you sped up.

There were random flashes of orange that appeared through the rain and Douxie realized it was your magic. You were using it to keep the two of you safe.

Douxie was impressed by your multitasking and your strength. He and Archie had thought you were young, but you seemed so powerful.

You began nervously glancing at Douxie and he realized that you didn’t want him to come with you to help your brother. He also realized that perhaps your brother had been talking about a troll or maybe a gumm-gumm.

“Please drop me off at the bookstore.” He requested and you nodded, visibly relaxing a bit.

You turned on to the street and pulled over. “Alright.”

Douxie quickly hopped out of the car and waved. “Stay safe,” he mumbled.

****

And Voila. Another Chapter done and tomorrow I shall post chapter five. I’m really excited to write that one. I hope y’all have a wonderful day/night and stay safe out there.

P.S. if you want to be on the taglist feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn't.

Chapter 5: https://writings-of-a-daphodil.tumblr.com/post/627579740293824512/fire-keeper-chapter-5

Taglist:

@wazzuppy @jinxedleo @lawlesshedgehog

#douxie x reader #douxie imagine #wizards imagine #toa imagine #trollhunters imagine #tales of arcadia imagine #toa #douxie #toa douxie #wizards douxie #wizards #trollhunters #tales of arcadia

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padme-parker · 4 years

Text

Collide / Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Chapter 5)

[a Star Wars x Avengers crossover]

Summary: Anakin realizes that he is falling for you, hard. He doesn’t want to hurt Padme, so instead, he distances himself from you.

Warnings: a couple of curse words, mentions of cheating, my writing

WC: 2.3k

A/N: Initially this was supposed to be ch 4.5 cause I started writing this when I was halfway thru with the original ch 5. but shit happens so here we are. p.s. I pulled this out of my ass so sorry if its bad.

read chapter 4 here

“took a minute, but I figured it out. The problem with me is you.” - Problem With You by Sabrina Claudio

You practically bolted out of the ship once Anakin landed it, not wanting to face the consequences of your actions. It was stupid really, pining after someone you couldn’t have. I shouldn’t have reciprocated his kiss. The thought of it alone was selfish, stealing away the husband and soon-to-be father from Padme. Your task was to save the universe, by any means necessary. Well, Fury did suggest that I get close to him. But he also said to not do anything to drastically change their timeline. But it just doesn’t make sense. How was I supposed to befriend him without changing the timeline? For all I know, my arrival here has already severely altered their timeline.

You went to your room while Obi wan and Yoda went to a meeting, Anakin was nowhere to be found. You sat yourself on the edge of your bed, hands roughly combing through your hair. All you wanted for Anakin was from him to be happy. Of course, you could accept the fact that maybe it wouldn’t have anything to do with you, if only that were true. In the short time you’ve been on Coruscant, you’ve noticed something change in him. But you didn’t know him, the real him. The only version of him that you knew was the one that existed on screen; The one who loved his wife so much, that he turned his back on the ones he loved the most to save her. Only to ultimately lead her to her demise.

The Anakin you were getting to know was different, in a good way, yet he was still so complicated. After training, you would eat together, whether it was in the cantina or at Dex’s, it was always the two of you. Some nights, he would come to your room to talk. And you let him. You let him rant about how unfair the council was, the pressure of being the chosen one- whatever he had to say, you listened to him. He did his best to express his emotions to you, but still got overwhelmed by them. At times, neither of you knew what to do. So you both sat in a comfortable silence, the mere presence of each other was enough for the both of you. Sometimes the two of you sat outside of the temple, watching the sunset as the nightlife emerged. Other times you would sit outside in the garden, meditating together. You’ve gotten to see the side of Anakin that no one really knew. Well besides Obi wan, Ahsoka, and Padme. You have yet to meet Padme., only hearing whispers of her from the other Jedi.

While you did train under Obi wan and Anakin, you rarely got to see Ahsoka. After coming to Coruscant, she became Plo Koon’s temporary padawan so that Anakin didn’t have to train the two of you at the same time. Although it wasn’t the same as completely leaving the Jedi Order, you could tell how much it affected Anakin. As you sat on your bed you couldn’t help the question that came to your mind. When it comes down to it, will I be the reason he falls?

Anakin is already in the room when you show up for training. There are no remarks or comebacks made as the two of you prep, just pure silence. Silence, was something that you hated. It was different from the sunset-watching silence you always shared. This was tense, heavy, and just straight up unbearable. Your movements were awkward as you took out your lightsaber and got into a fighting stance.

“So who talks first? You talk first? I talk first?” You said, breaking the silence, not realizing you had just quoted Poe.

Anakin glares at you before responding, “There’s nothing to talk about.” He ignites his lightsaber and stalks towards you.

“Oh come on, don’t pretend like yesterday didn’t happen.” You replied, gripping your lightsaber in both hands as you ignited it.

“I’d rather not think about it. Now be quiet and focus.” He said, swinging his saber only for you to block his attack. You complied and trained with him in silence, save for the occasional grunt that you let out.

As the minutes passed, you grew more tired as Anakin’s actions became assertive. He began swinging his saber more aggressively, the pace so fast you almost couldn’t keep up. He was going to back you into the corner if he didn’t stop.

“Anakin, stop!” You pleaded. Your words seemed to have no effect on him as he continued, his eyebrows scrunching together as he knocked your saber out of your hand. He raises his lightsaber, ready to strike you down. With no weapon in hand and no way out, you use the force to push him back.

“WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?” You screamed at him once he was a good feet away from you.

Anakin wanted to tell you the truth. That loving you was his problem. That with each passing day, the feelings he had felt so many years for Padme, had nearly diminished. With your arrival, it felt like he had been reborn. He began to see life in a new light, maybe even cherished it more. And deep down, he knew that you were always meant to be his, and he was always meant to be yours. At night he would lie awake thinking of you, of what your lives could’ve been like together. Oh, how he would curse and scream at the stars for this twisted fate. But Anakin knew that he couldn’t be with you, no matter how much he wanted you.

He hated himself for being unfaithful to Padme, and in return he directed his internalized anger towards you, the source of his problems.

“You. Are. My. Problem.” He said, accusingly pointing his finger at you whilst stepping closer with each word he said.

“ME? I’m your problem?”

“Yes, you!.” He replied, pausing while trying to think of something to say. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it isn’t going to work. You’re trying to stray me away from my path. I will not indulge in your activities. I am loyal to the Jedi Order and my duties.” Anakin felt bad, he truly did. He didn’t want to lead you on, but it seemed like it was already too late.

“You're the one who kissed me!” How ironic, he’s only loyal to the Jedi, but apparently not to his wife.

“Because you seduced me!” He countered.

“I did no such thing.” You replied. “It wasn’t my fault that you saw me swinging my saber and got turned on. That’s on you Anakin. Also, if you have so many problems with training me, why don’t you ask the Council to swap you out for someone else?”

He opens his mouth, as if he’s going to reply, but it quickly shuts.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You pick up your saber and exit the training room.

Now alone, he lays on the floor, with his limbs sprawled out while mindlessly staring at the ceiling. He knows that he’s just ruined every chance, no matter how small or big, of being with you in the future. Anakin could only beg the makers that one day, some very distant day, or possibly in another life, that the two of you would’ve been together.

You waste no time calling Fury when you return to your room. The device takes a while trying to connect with FRIDAY back on Earth, but she alerts Fury, along with Tony and Peter, that they had an incoming call from you.

Three faces pop up onto the hologram, Peter was basically screaming at you. You quickly greeted him back before telling them what just happened, or well the shortened version of what happened.

“I fucked up.”

“What do you mean fucked up?” Tony asks.

“Okay, so Fury, you know how like you told me to get close to Anakin-- but not really that close. Just close enough so that he could y’know, slaughter his fellow Jedi and the younglings but not me. And then he would eventually become big bad Daddy- oops hehe, sorry I meant Darth. Darth Vader. And kill all of these people with his extremely cool but extremely dangerous weapon. But not close enough that it would alter their timeline. Which doesn’t really make sense if you think about it. Like how do I get close to him without getting close to him, y’know? Also how am I supposed to know where Thanos-'' Your rambling gets cut off by Fury.

“Get to the point.” He says.

“Right…. so…. like I said, I did something and I fucked up. He basically wants nothing to do with me now.” You replied.

“I don’t care. Do whatever you need to do to get back on his good side. Use one of those mind tricks you learned if you need to.”

“Those won’t work on him.” You sighed, your body hunched over as you tried to think of possible solutions.

“Then do what you need to, or else I’ll be forced to take you off the mission. I don’t want to repeat myself again” Fury hands the device to Tony, “I’ll give you some time to speak with her. But I expect a plan the next time you call.” He says before leaving the room.

“So, how’s life over there treating you, Star?” Tony asks. “What happened between you and.. what do you call him? Flyguy? No, umm-”

“Listen, I don’t really want to talk about it. But besides that, it’s been okay. Not really different from back home. I wake up, eat, train, eat, explore, eat again, then go to sleep. Basically the same routine. The food here is alright, nothing compared to what I was eating back at home. But I’m grateful that they're giving me food and shelter.” The rest of your night was filled with chatter and laughter, the previous events from the grueling day slowly drifting away from your mind.

It’s been two weeks since Anakin had confronted you, and almost nothing had changed. Well except for those couple of days where you thought he had taken up on your suggestion, only for him to show up for a day of training then leave again. The first day he was gone, you thought nothing of it. Only that he might’ve needed some space. But another day passed and there was still no contact from him. Of course you could’ve taken this issue up to the Jedi Council, but what were they going to do? Offer to switch out Anakin for a Jedi Master? No, you wouldn't allow that to happen. Instead you tried to reach out to him using the bond you two shared, only to find yourself blocked off from the connection.

Without Anakin by your side, it felt as though you became vulnerable to your emotions and the dark side. More specifically, you could feel someone lingering in your head. It certainly wasn’t Anakin. This person, the force around them was dark. They commanded respect, power, and fear. The day they intruded your head was the very day you began having nightmares.

Your body was sprawled on the ground, as if someone had pushed you back. The ground is hardened, it makes you let out a groan. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you noticed the two figures in the distance. You could only see them below their collarbones, their faces were blurred.

One of them wore a dark robe while the other was wearing ordinary civilian clothing. It seemed like the two of them were arguing, particularly, they were arguing about you.

“You will not take her from me!” The man in the robe declared.

“She was never yours.” The other man calmly replied, his hands held up showing he did not want to fight, hoping the robed man would comply. He doesn’t, instead he stretches out his hand, using the force to bring the man into his grasp. He turns around the civilian, so that they are both facing you, and forces him to his knees.

“If I can’t have her, then you can’t either.” It was like time began to slow as he said those words. You could hear yourself sharply intake air as the man takes out his saber. All life around you goes to a standstill as you see a red light illuminate your surroundings, a blade protruding from the man's lower stomach. The sound of your own blood pumping is loud, but not as loud as the gasps emitting from the wounded man.

“KAZ!” You screamed, calling out for the man. It was then you realized that this person wasn’t you. You certainly didn’t know anyone with that name. Or perhaps this was someone you had yet to meet.

The robed figure retracts his saber, Kaz’s body falling in front of him. If you acted quickly, you could retrieve his body and save him.

“You see, Kaz. My intention from the beginning was to kill you. However, I think I’d like to watch you suffer instead.” That voice, it sounded so familiar, yet you couldn’t place your finger on who it was.

“What do you mean?” Kaz uttered weakly.

The man gave no response, only a glance towards Kaz before he began making his way towards you.

“No, stay away from her!” He pleaded.

The glow of his red saber became more clear then closer he got to you. The last thing you see is his saber coming your way before everything fades to black.

That night, you woke up drenched in sweat and panting as if you had just ran a marathon. If there was one thing that you understood, it was the fact that the force didn’t want you here. Your destiny was supposed to be fulfilled on Earth. Only time could tell you the consequences for trying to interfere. But you didn’t care, you were going to do whatever you could to save your friends.

Read chapter 6 here

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tags are open :P

#Anakin #Anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #Anakin Skywalker x Padme Amidala #star wars #sw #star wars fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark #Nick Fury #Avengers #spiderman #MCU #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #star wars x avengers

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 4.5}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student (however no underage romance), blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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A loud bang, followed by an orchestra of rattling jars and bottles jolted Robin awake. With a sharp intake of breath she sat up, wide eyes frantically scanning the dim room around her as her fingers curled tightly around her wand. Before she could go into full defense mode however, her startled gaze was met with the equally surprised one of her professor. Geez, he really was positively insufferable. Slowly the tension in Robin's muscles relaxed, but she kept her eyes on him nonetheless while her sleepy mind reluctantly started picking up its work again. Why did he look so surprised? It was him who had burst into the room and slammed the door like a maniac after all!

"I apologize." Snape said after a few seconds, and Robin's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I didn't consider that my behavior might startle you. My mind was elsewhere."

"It's alright, I mean… Is everything alright? Did you find out from Morgan whose spells those are? Is that why you are so… upset?" Ignoring the fact that he had actually apologised for once, for inconsiderate behavior out of all things, Robin immediately went back to the issue at hand as she jumped up to her feet to meet him at the table they had been sitting at who-knows-how-long ago.

"Upset doesn't nearly cover it, Miss Mitchell." He drawled in a grim tone and the expression to go along with it. "But indeed, I did discover who the spells originated from, and I would even go as far as to say I have unveiled the entirety of this affair."

"What?" Robin couldn't help but stare at him with an incredulous frown. "You… You know what's going on?"

"I do." He confirmed, but made no move to speak on for a moment, which in return made Robin roll her eyes against her better judgement. With a scowl in reaction to that, he finally went on. "Professor Morgan did not create the spells. However, after some… convincing, he was able to tell me who did."

"And?"

"As far as one can trust his word, a group of students. Fourth and fifth year Slytherins. He said they approached him a few days after the start of term, inquiring if and how innocent charms could be turned into dark magic."

"And, of course, Morgan told them…" Robin groaned in annoyance and dread, closing her eyes for a second to focus on not letting a row of insults slip past her lips. Not the bad ones, at least. "That man is a nightmare all in himself."

"He became an unknowing asset to them, yes." Snape phrased it more nicely, but the way he said it clearly let on very much the same disdain that had been more directly put in Robin's expression. "But he was able to give me the names of the students who made the inquiry at least."

"Who was it?" Robin asked even though she already felt like she knew the answer to that.

"Mister Thompson, Mister Campton, Miss Sparks, Miss-..."

"Sparks? As in… Melody Sparks, my roommate?" A new heatwave of discomfort ran through Robin's body in an instant, and she really hoped that she was somehow misunderstanding this. Maybe her mind was still fogged from sleeping.

"The very same. Your other three roommates were among the group as well." He confirmed Robin's suspicion, upon which she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Gods… it was so absurd, and yet so very obvious.

"Do you really think that a stupid little group of students cursed me like that?" Robin still couldn't help asking, more hoping to be proven wrong than out of an actual lack of understanding.

"I do not merely think they did, but I know it for a fact." He replied.

"You do? How so?"

"I summoned them to my office and asked them."

Now Robin's frown turned into a wide eyed stare once again, and her heartbeat grew uncomfortably fast again. "You… what? When? I… but…"

"Maybe it would help to follow a more… chronological order of events." He sighed, and started over. "After I received the names from Morgan, I was quite frankly as doubtful as you are now. Thus I took the liberty to summon the individuals in question to my office to get at least one step further in solving this issue before breakfast. Yet, I did not expect to solve it entirely, and I cannot say I am glad I did." He made a small pause, and Robin felt like he actually might not know how to phrase what was to follow appropriately.

"Just say it." She encouraged him to continue, and prepared herself for absolutely anything he might say.

"It was only a practical joke. A simple, pathetic prank that a group of cruel students decided to play on a classmate. They simply deemed it amusing to scare you." He said in that grave tone that went beyond annoyance, beyond any scowl. "None of them possesses the necessary abilities nor intelligence to realize what they have done, truly have done. Or what the spells they have created are capable of."

"No…" Robin said without thinking and shook her head to herself. "It was not a prank! It was NOT a bloody joke!!! It cannot be…"

"They have no idea that they cursed you, and neither are they aware of the extent of those curses. Nor of the toll their actions took on you. Really, Mister Thompson was quick to explain the hilarity they found in witnessing the boggart incident last term, and the entire group altogether was hoping for a… repetition of those events."

"They just wanted me to jump and pass out?!" She still couldn't believe a word of it, or rather didn't want to.

"In the end, yes. That was the aim of last night's horror theater."

"Well, I'm sure they were delighted to hear that they almost killed me instead."

"They are entirely unaware of that."

"Really?" Now Robin frowned even more now, but finally found herself able to look Snape in the eye once more. "You… didn't tell them?"

"Obviously not. I demanded the truth and they gave it to me. Then I threw them out of my office to be dealt with at a different time."

"And you are certain that they told the truth?"

"Yes. Students tend to speak the truth when I threaten them."

"I guess I wouldn't know that, would I?" Robin tried a half smile, but she couldn't quite convey it yet. "Uh, how did they do that thing tonight, with the other me?"

"Polyjuice potion."

"Ah…" Every doubt and question within her collapsed suddenly and made room for sheer and utter humiliation. "And the… dreams? How did they know how to scare me so deeply?"

"Part of your terror was solely born out of the curse, you should keep that in mind." He said at first, but then answered her question nonetheless. "It is related to the general origin of their ideas. Miss Sparks said she discovered a piece of writing of yours at the start of term, which supposedly gave her the idea to mess with you. She confided in her friends, they took the issue to Mister Thompson, and he got Mister Campton involved, who obviously still holds a grudge against you after the incident with the Whomping Willow. They each thought it a fun activity to giggle over with their friends like the bunch of lunatics they are, and thus half of the fourth and fifth year Slytherin students got involved in the execution of this scheme at last. Needless to say, their ambition got out of hand by the point it all was set into action."

"I… don't know what to say." Robin replied in a breath, and stared at a burnt spot on the table in front of her. This is not what she had imagined the solution to this mystery to be, not even close. Somehow, it seemed entirely unimaginable that such a large group of people had formed for the mere sake of letting her suffer. And it was even more unimaginable that they still had no idea just how much they had succeeded in that. It was only a prank. Only a joke. Her suffering, a joke. Her terror, a joke. The fact that she had been one hundred percent willing to die tonight, a joke.

"I know what you are thinking, and I ask you to stop. Right now." His words broke the silence after a moment, but Robin still couldn't get over this impossible ending to the worst night of her life.

"No offense, but I beg to differ." She replied quietly, but didn't look up from the table. She didn't feel scared anymore… only deeply humiliated, embarrassed of herself, and angry that she was embarrassed in the first place.

"I believe you are contemplating how you can pay them back."

"Why do you believe that I'm contemplating such a thing?"

"Because I am." He stated it so simply that Robin didn't even feel surprised anymore. Pleased, yes, but not surprised.

"That's… good to hear. I'm afraid you're wrong about me though. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind." She sighed and finally looked up at him just in time to see his eyebrows rise in surprise. "I don't care about payback or about revenge at all."

"I am rarely surprised, and somehow whenever I am, it always seems to revolve around you." He finally stated, and Robin managed another weak half smile in return. She really did like the idea of being able to surprise him. Even if, or maybe because it made him question her. "What are you thinking of then, if not about revenge?"

"Are you asking me that or do you demand to know?" Robin asked in return, and he seemed even more surprised at that.

"Does it make a difference to you?"

"Yes."

"I believe I am asking."

"In that case I would like to refrain from answering for once. I've told you everything you needed to know, everything you wanted to know… But this is something I don't think I can explain." Robin said in the sincere hope that after all the times she had been so very honest with him, he would let this one question go for once.

"I understand." He didn't sound too content with her refusal, but he respected it and that's what counted for Robin. "May I still offer a piece of… advice in return?"

"Certainly."

"Then let me assure you that they only hold power over you if you allow them to determine who you are. And if they keep you from speaking up."

"They?"

"Nightmares… Fears… Bullies…" He said in very much feigned neutrality. Really, under all those constructed layers of his facade, he seemed to be just as shaken as her. "You are better than them."

Robin let out a half humored and half annoyed huff and rested her head in her hands for a moment. "That is great advice, actually, and yet I hate that it makes me want to tell you."

"That wasn't my intention."

"I know…" Robin sighed, and she really did know it to the core of her mind. He was sneaky, yes, but this simply wasn't his kind of method at all. "I know. But you are right, I… shouldn't be embarrassed by something that wasn't in my control."

"You feel embarrassed?"

"Yes! Terribly so, actually. I feel embarrassed that I let them scare me that much, that my mind made such a big deal out of a mere stupid prank. That I seriously believed that this whole thing was something more, and that I made you believe it too. I'm truly sorry for that."

"You couldn't have known. I didn't know, and I'm supposed to know. I am responsible for keeping things like this from happening, so if anything, I failed you tonight." For a moment, he seemed as surprised by his own honesty as Robin was. For a moment indeed, they just looked at each other in silence again before he continued. "The sheer amount of coincidences involved in this incident is astonishing, and ultimately what blew it completely out of proportion. You aren't responsible for any of it, and if I may say so, you were quite right to be terrified." A small pause, and his frown turned almost into subtle sadness. "There is no difference if it was students accidentally torturing you with adulterated magic or if something else tortured you intentionally with the worst curses modern history has to offer. It was torture nonetheless."

"But it… they…" Robin couldn't keep looking him in the eye if she truly wanted to say this. She wasn't that brave. But if she didn't say it now, to him, she would never say it at all. "I'm used to it, you know… being bullied and hurt and ridiculed, especially by my own house. I have learned to stand above it, to be better than that. And honestly, I can also live with the death I have seen. I can even live with the death I thought to have caused. Those pictures are a horror film, and as any film, you can shake the memory off if you know that it isn't real. Wait, do you even know what horror films are?"

"Obviously..." Again, his tone was somewhere unfathomable between humored, annoyed and curious.

"Good… Uh, well, anyway… I think I mostly got over the nightmares when we discovered that they weren't nightmares, and I got over the real life thing that happened tonight when I realized it was polyjuice potion and fake blood. Well, I hope it was fake blood at least, it was all over my-..."

"You are rambling."

"Yes. I know. I do that when I'm nervous. Or when I dread saying what I actually want to say."

"You do not have to say anything at all if you would prefer not to." He stated pointedly but sincerely, and Robin appreciated that. The always quite so demanding Professor Snape was giving her a choice. He had been doing that for a while now, actually. It wasn't much to expect of anyone, but coming from him, it was a lot.

"I don't know if I can live with the fact that I didn't care if I lived or died." Robin heard herself say the words as if they came from someone else. "What does it say about me that I wanted to die after what they have done?"

"More importantly, what does it say about you that you are still here after what they have done?"

The returned question put an immediate pause to Robin's mind. She hadn't looked at it in this light before, hadn't considered that while she had been in a very bad place before, she still was here now. That wasn't due to herself though. "It was Hagrid who made me get out of the water."

"Yes, remind me to thank him for that at some point."

"He's the reason I'm still here."

"Not even remotely."

"Then what is your point?"

"My point is that you would not have been terrified if you truly had wanted to die. My point is that people who truly want to die would embrace the opportunity once it arises, not try to fight it. My point is that you are still here because you chose to live despite what was done to you!" His words contradicted the glare he gave Robin, but she chose to see it as an expression of just how serious he was about what he said. The mere fact that he was this determined to help her made her heart flutter, but it also left her no option but to believe him indeed.

"Do you really think that my choice to live says more about me than my willingness to die?" She asked sincerely, rawly even, with more conscious vulnerability than she had ever allowed herself to show before. But it was too late, too far, too important for anything else.

"I do." He was entirely serious in his reply, and intent on making her believe it too. "We are not defined by what is done to us, nor by what it makes us think or feel. What matters are the choices we make because of it, or despite of it."

"Thank you…" Robin sighed in honest relief, and closed her eyes for a moment to let the truth get through even to the darkest depths of her mind. She was still here, still Robin, and finally not afraid anymore. Only dead tired. The problem was solved, all questions answered and only one thing left to do: moving on.

Robin sighed, elbows on the table, head in her hands. How exactly was she supposed to do that? Maybe she should start by coming back into the real world.

"What time is it?" She asked first of all, sitting up straight once more to look at the skeptical potions professor in front of her. "I have lost every feeling for how late or early it is long ago."

"Between eight and nine in the morning, I am not entirely certain."

"Good gods…" Robin groaned under her breath. "I have kept you up all night. I'm sorry."

"The issue required immediate solving and that took its time."

"Is it solved though?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you… think they will try to do it again?" The thought made Robin more uneasy than she would've expected, but she didn't want to let it affect her any more than it already had. She could deal with those asshole students if she had to, now that she knew who was responsible.

"I cannot give you an absolute answer, obviously, but I would not expect them to. In my understanding, they had the conclusion to their efforts in the grand finale last night. Seeing as they were entertained more by the secrecy of the process than by the results, I would assume that I put an end to it. However, if you experience anything suspicious, I expect you to find me immediately."

"I definitely will, but it's good to know that it should be over now, if they're finally happy with what they've done. I know it's probably none of my business, but do you plan on punishing them for what they did, if you haven't already? What's going to happen to them now?"

"I do consider it to be your business indeed." He replied almost easily. "And while I do believe they must be punished, I haven't yet decided on appropriate means to do so. To me, their actions are unforgivable, but seeing as I am biased, I might have to consult the headmaster in that question."

His answer made Robin's skin crawl, and she wondered what exactly he meant when he said he was biased, but she didn't dare to ask. He was already being extremely open with her right now, and she didn't want to push him too far. Maybe she would find out eventually. "Well, I know you will find an appropriate way to deal with the issue, sir. You always do. Unfortunately not everyone learns from punishment."

"Indeed…" He mused, following a line of thought Robin couldn't fathom. But then again, she didn't have to.

"So, what am I to do now?" Robin asked instead, and couldn't help feeling a little lost, in the lab, in her pajamas, without a clear agenda. "I mean… it surely isn't dangerous for me to leave the lab anymore, and I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome."

"I have been contemplating that for a while now, and I would prefer for you not to return to living with your roommates. It would be best if you moved to a different room."

"That would cause an awful lot of trouble for very little gain though, wouldn't it? I mean… To be honest, I doubt that the other girls would appreciate having me in their rooms either. Changing rooms might simply delay the inevitable."

"You are concerned about a repetition of these events in a different form, at a different time?"

"Obviously." Robin mimicked his favorite expression, but he merely raised an eyebrow in a very subtle (and amused) warning.

"Your worry is reasonable. I was concerned about the very same thing, seeing as it would be rather annoying to go through this entire debacle again." He stated in the worst feigned indifference possible, and Robin had to smile. Snape was being Snape again… things were returning to normal. Good. "That, among other things, is why I decided to assign you to a room with two first year students."

"I… you… really?" Robin's jaw dropped, but she couldn't yet decide if she should be amused, insulted or anything in between. First years, really? She hadn't even been able to stand them when she had been one herself! But then again, she couldn't afford to be picky about these things. Anything was better than living with the people who tortured her.

"Do not look at me like that." He warned her with a small glare that was more comforting than Robin wanted him to know. "The two girls I'm assigning you to aren't as noisy and dimwitted as the other children in their year. They could be more if they had someone to keep them on the right path."

"So you want me to be their… what exactly?"

"Foremost I want you to live with people who will not torture you. But in a second step, yes, I would like you to keep an eye on them. They both are muggle borns… There is no need for me to tell you how that affects their life in this house. And seeing as you already take up most of my time and energy, you might as well keep an eye on them for me." The last sentence was definitely more sass than serious, and Robin found herself smiling again at the small moment of much needed humor. If he wanted her to do him this favor, she would without hesitation. It was a serious responsibility, sure, but also a piece of proof that he trusted her to act appropriately in his place. Robin's heart skipped a beat, and she gave it a mental slap to shut it up already. Not the time for unwanted feelings.

"I will do my best, as long as they let me." Robin said with a smaller smile. "I promise I'll try."

"I expected nothing less of you." Snape replied in a way that somehow brought a new rush of tingles to Robin's skin rather than make it any easier to ignore the previous one. Geez, she really needed to sleep. "Your belongings will be moved to the new room shortly, so you needn't concern yourself with that. I shall speak with the two girls myself to explain the situation and see to it that they don't return to your room until after dinner. You should use that time to rest."

"Oh, I definitely will. Without a curse on me, I might actually be able to sleep soundly for once." Robin sighed and moved to pick up her backpack and wand from the floor. As much as she loved the lab, the prospect of finally getting some rest was way more tempting currently. "I really appreciate that I don't have to go back to my old room. I mean, it might earn me some scorn that I'm going to live with first years, but what's new. I don't think I could've closed my eyes in the same room with the people in my grade ever again, so this is as close to good as it gets."

"I can imagine." Snape mused in return, and watched with badly hidden amusement as Robin tried to come up with a place to store her wand, before she gave up and simply held it in her hand, resting against the inside of her forearm. With another deep breath, Robin stepped towards the door and then turned towards her professor once more. "Which room is it?"

"The very last one to the left."

"Great, as far away from everyone in my grade as possible." Robin smiled to herself, then at Snape, and finally at the ground. She'd be okay now, it would be over soon. Then they could go back to every-day business. "I literally can't wait to just sit in the classroom in the evenings again and drink coffee with you." …Oh gosh, had she really just said that? Out loud?!

For a moment the humor on his face seemed to tug his lips into a smile, but then the neutral facade of stone jumped back into place and gone was any and every expression at all. "Soon enough you will."

"Well…" Robin turned to face the door with her body, but her eyes stayed on Snape. "I better go now."

"Not so fast. I have one more question that I have been meaning to ask you all night, but now seems the only appropriate time to do so."

"Oh?" Robin's eyebrows rose in question and her poor stupid heart skipped a beat. That traitor…

"Did someone give you that t-shirt as a gift or do you actually like Queen?"

Robin's jaw dropped and her brows furrowed into a frown, but after a second of silence she finally couldn't help it anymore and just burst out laughing. Honest, pure laughter. Something that had been unimaginable a mere few hours ago. And yet here she was, laughing, and trying to cover her mouth with her free hand to stop laughing, which however was utterly impossible when she just took one look at his almost entirely serious face. Even Snape couldn't hide the hinted at expressions that clearly suggested humor as his predominant sentiment. Only after a minute, she could finally bite her bottom lip enough to keep the laughter in and come back to a place where she could actually answer that question. But honestly, what kind of a question was that in the first place?! Had he been wondering about this all this time?

"Yes, I actually do like Queen. A lot, even." She answered at last, though unable to stop smirking. "But I made the admittedly idiotic promise a few years ago not to wear the t-shirt in public, so… it's just for wear as pajamas. Which, until today, weren't a topic of public debate."

"I can assure you they still are not."

"Good… to know." Robin laughed, and shook her head to herself. "I'm going to get some much needed sleep now. Goodnight, professor."

"Good morning, actually. Not everyone can enjoy the luxury of sleeping through the day, Miss Mitchell." He gave her a look, and Robin bit the inside of her lip to not smirk again. "Expect to hear from me about the punishment issue when you wake up."

With a small nod, Robin finally opened the door and let herself out into the ever-gloomy dungeons. Quickly she made for the dorms, in the hopes that everyone was still at breakfast, and then to the very last door to the left in the girls' hallway. The room was absolutely average, just like her previous one, but it looked bigger with only four beds instead of six, and only two of them taken. Robin chose an empty bed on instinct, dropped her backpack and her wand by her nightstand and laid down beneath the covers without a second thought. She was too tired to care about anything but sleep right now, and if Snape was sure that nobody would come at her with those bloody curses again, that was enough to put her mind at ease. Enough to allow her to sleep in peace, without a single dream at all.

______________________________

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ak47stylegirl · 4 years

Text

Sick Days: Chapter 12

Sick days is back people! Poor Alan 😅😂

This chapter was going to be longer but then I realised that it was probably getting too long, so I cut it short. But yeah, the following chapters are already sort of written but ain’t edited yet, but hopefully soon I can post those as well!😄

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Rest of the chapters can be found here.

---

Scott pov

His eyes widened as Alan burst into tears, starting to cry like he hadn’t seen him cry in a long time. “Alan!” He cried, launching forward, swooping Alan up into his arms.“What’s wrong?!” He questioned in alarm, sitting down on the bed.

Alan didn’t answer him. Instead, the kid cried harder, wrapping his arms around his neck, sobbing hysterically.

He grimaced, biting his bottom lip, feeling so overwhelmingly worried and scared for his baby brother. “Shhh, shhh, it’s alright, it’s alright…” He whispered, his voice shaking slightly as he started to rub Alan's back. “I’m here, shhh, I’m here…”

Alan choked on a sob, and started to cough and sputter between each sob. Alan needed to calm down, or the poor kid was going to make himself sick, he thought worriedly, his blue eyes filled with concern.

He gently made Alan look at him, his hand caressing Alan's cheek, “Baby, what’s the matter?” He asked softly, rubbing his thumb soothingly up and down Alan’s cheek, his hand getting soaked from tears. “Why are you so upset?”

Alan’s bottom lip trembled, his face all scrunched up and flushed pink, “I..I couldn’t s-” Alan sobbed, more tears falling down his face. “-S-Sleep! I...I've been up-up all night, everything is hurting!” Alan wailed loudly, burying his face back into the base of his neck.

He felt himself gasp slightly, horror colouring his face as he looked down at his crying baby brother. “Oh baby…” He cradled the back of Alan’s head, hugging his baby brother close as he started to rock him gently. “Your medicine must have worn off…”

He pressed his eyes shut, feeling like the worst guardian possible. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry…” He whispered, his voice filled with sorrow and guilt.

He had just assumed that Alan would sleep through the night, partly because the last time he had checked on Alan, the kid had been sleeping soundly (or as soundly as you can get with a bad cold), but he should have known better.

He should have known better! He thought with a grimace, looking down at his sobbing baby brother. “Shhh, it’s alright, it’s alright...shhh..” He whispered softly, rubbing his hand up and down Alan’s back “I’m here baby, Shhh, it’s alright, I’m here...”

He had been doing this parenting thing for years, and he was still messing it up, he thought with a sigh, feeling incredibly mad at himself. Alan was the child he had raised single-handedly (well almost single-handedly, he wasn’t deny his brothers did pitch in at times, which he was ever grateful for) since toddlerhood, and in turn, Alan had become the closest thing he had to a child of his own.

And it hurt, oh it hurt, to see his baby like this, he thought as he lightly kissed Alan’s feverishly hot temple, his eyes stinging ever so slightly. It was true parental torture…

“Scott?”

He looked up, finding Virgil standing in the doorway, his eyes filled with concern as he regarded them. “What’s going on here? Is Allie okay?” Virgil asked, stepping into the bedroom.

He shook his head. No, Allie wasn’t okay.

“He had a really bad night, Virg...” He explained sadly as he gently stroked Alan's hair, his baby brother’s cries starting to soften. “Poor thing didn’t even get a wink of sleep…”

Virgil’s eyes filled with sorrow at the news, “The poor kid…” Virgil sighed softly, making his way over to them and sitting down on the bed next to him. “I’m guessing his medicine wore off sometime last night?”

He nodded, closing his eyes briefly as the guilt and self-loathing washed over him again. Why hasn’t he checked on Alan? He has been doing this for long enough that he should know better-

“Scott…” Virgil was looking at him with that familiar look, knowing exactly what he was thinking and wasn’t liking it one bit. The look clearly said, ‘Do I have to have this conversation with you? Again?’

He shook his head, gesturing down at Alan, silently saying ‘Not now, Later...’

Virgil’s eyes narrowed at him before softening as they looked at Alan, who had lifted his head slightly and was watching them with teary, feverish eyes. “Hey, Allie…”

Alan only groaned and coughed weakly in response, tears cascading down his cheeks. The kid was truly unwell, he thought with a pained frown, starting to gently rock Alan in his arms again.

“He looks worse than he did yesterday...” Virgil spoke softly to him, his voice coloured with horror as he laid the back of his hand against Alan’s cheek. “And his fever has definitely gone up…”

“I know…” He whimpered sadly, his hand resting against the back of Alan’s head as he rocked him. “Speaking of that, would you be able to measure out his medicine for me?”

Alan snuffled a sneeze into his shoulder, starting to cry harder, “It’s on the bedside table…” He finished with a grimace, pulling his sick brother closer, whispering sweet comforts into Alan's ear. “shhh, I’m here baby, shhh...”

“Sure, no problem...” Virgil stood up, brown eyes soft with worry for their littlest brother. “It’s normally 4.5 ml, isn’t it?” Virgil double-checked as he picked up the medicine bottle, looking over at him.

“Yeah, that's what I worked out...” He nodded, continuing to rock Alan in his arms.

Alan was way too tiny to have the recommended dose that a seven-year-old would typically have, so they had to figure out the dosage using his weight instead.

It was a lot tricker, but they had a doctor for a Grandma growing up, so they knew the basics…At least he, John and Virgil did, Gordon and Alan not so much, they were too young when she died.

He watched as Virgil meticulously measured the medicine out into the small cup, holding it up to the light to make sure he measured right. None of them wanted to accidentally give Alan too much…

Virgil handed him the small cup, filled with the pink syrup-like liquid.

“Thanks..” He nodded as he took the cup, turning his attention to Alan, rubbing soothing circles into Alan’s back. “Sweetie, It’s time for your medicine, baby…” He gently shifted Alan, supporting his baby brother with his arm.

Alan blinked up at him with a sniffle, his blue eyes bloodshot and teary.

The lines around his eyes increased as he took a proper look at his baby brother, bringing the medicine cup up to Alan’s cracked lips. Alan’s nose was looking even more inflamed than it had yesterday, glistening with moisture; his lips starting to follow, becoming sore and dry.

And to top it all off, Alan had deep shadows under his eyes, a true testament to what a horrible night he had endured.

Virgil was right; Alan did look so much sicker now, he thought sadly as he gently tilted the cup up as Alan weakly drank his medicine, barely reacting to the foul taste.

He shared a concerned look with Virgil. It wasn’t like Alan not to complain that his medicine tasted terrible, he thought as he lowered the cup and handed it back to Virgil, wrapping his other arm around his still upset baby brother.

“You did good, sweetie…” He whispered, gently stroking Alan’s fringe to the side, letting his fingers linger for a moment. “I know your medicine doesn’t taste good, but I’m proud of you for drinking it like a champ..” He gave Alan’s forehead a little kiss, smiling softly down at his baby brother.

Alan looked up at him with a wet sniffle, eyes glazed over with fever, his head resting lightly against his shoulder. Alan’s nose was a mess, snot dripping all the way down to Alan’s bottom lip. And it didn’t seem to want to stop, he thought with a slight grimace.

“Hey Virgil, can you pass me a tissue?” He asked, his hand stretched out for said tissue, starting to rock Alan in his arms again, keeping his attention on Alan. “Allie’s nose is all gunky…”

“Sure- ur… um, small problem with that, Scott,” Virgil replied, sounding unhappy and displeased, “Or well, more of an empty problem…”

He turned his head around to see what Virgil was going on about, only to see Virgil holding an empty tissue box. “Oh...” He winced, realising the same thing Virgil had.

Alan had been out of clean tissue for who knows how long...

“I...I ran out of..of tissues a while ago…” A small spoke up weakly, drawing their attention. “I...I didn’t know where-” Alan hitched slightly, his red nose starting to flare.

“-W-Where th-the other tissues were, and...and I was just so t-tired that I just been using the...the dirty tis-tis-” Alan sneezed, wet and messily. “-tissues, ugh...” Alan groaned weakly, shivering. “My n-nose hurts!”

“Oh, baby…” He pulled Alan close with a deep sigh, a pained expression on his face as he leaned his cheek lightly against Alan’s head. “Shhhh, I know...I know…”

No wonder Alan’s nose was even more irritated this morning, using those dirty tissues must have been like using wet sandpaper. Not an experience he would ever wish on his brothers, let alone his baby brother.

“I’ll get another tissue box...” Virgil sighed, making his way out of the room, calling softly behind him, “I’ll be right back!”

He nodded as he cradled Alan in his arms, watching Virgil disappear into the hallway, out of sight.

He looked down at his baby brother and sighed. “Allie, why didn’t you wake one of us up?” He asked, stroking Alan’s cheek with the back of his hand. “We wouldn’t have been mad, sweetie…”

Alan blinked up at him, skin horribly washed out, “I...I don’t know..” Alan sniffled, rubbing at his eyes weakly, “I...It didn’t cross my mind, I just felt so, s-sick..” Alan groaned, pressing deeper to his side. “I...I’m sorry?”

The vice around his heart squeezed painfully at those two words.

“Oh sweetheart, don’t be…” He ran his fingers through Alan’s hair; his voice soft and tender. “I should have checked on you, and I’m truly sorry that I didn't…” He whispered, nuzzling his nose against Alan's hair.

Alan coughed, “It’s o-okay, S-Scotty..”

He smiled bittersweetly, knowing it wasn’t okay but touched that his baby brother was so quick to forgive him, he didn’t deserve it…

Virgil chose that moment to return.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #Scott Tracy #alan tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #thunderbirds fanfiction #normal au #sickfic #sickdays #thunderbirds 2004 #original thunderbirds

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calliecat93 · 3 years

Text

ST: TNG S4 Watchthrough Episodes 6-9

Legacy: We have ended up on the home planet of Tasha Yar… and wow it’s not a nice place. We also find out that she has a sister, welp. So… it was alright. Ishara is very similar to Tasha in demeanor, but also very different. I tilt my head at the crew being so willing to trust and accept Ishara into their midst when they know nothing about this woman. I could see the ‘she’s using them’ plot a mile away. But to be fair, the episode addresses it. They wanted to see Tasha. They wanted to see the brave, loyal, strong-willed Security Chief that they lost so callously in her sister… and in the end, that took over. While I can see why Ishara acted as she did, she didn’t know these people and hasn’t seen Tasha in years so she’s under no obligation to care about them, it really has to hurt that she used them and almost committed mass murder and make them take the lame. Her world is a hellhole so her actions make sense, but that doens’t change the betrayal. Especially for Data. Riker sums it up well, with trust comes betrayal… but without trust, there is no friendship. That’s just the cruel truth. Anyways, it was a fine episode. I like that we have a pot-mortem for Tasha even if late… but it just makes me wish that tasha herself didn’t get killed sos he could have had her own plot and feeligns focused on. It still pisse sme off and is just a reminder of so much wasted potential. But ah well, for what they had to work with, they did it welll. 3/5.

Reunion: K’Ehleyr is back… and with a child. Worf’s child, to be exact. Huh. have been waiting very patiently for a follow-up to Sins of the Father and this was an excellent one! Back in K’Ehleyr’s first episode, she was unwilling to take the Oath and Worf wanted to so much and follow the Klingon traditions. Here? K’Ehleyr is ready and doens’t care that he was discommendated… but now Worf can’t. he’s been dishonored and even if it means nothing to K’Ehleyr, it means a great deal to him. He can’t let her or his son bear that shame. It’s so hard to watch him here. How anguished he feels, the way the other Klingons treat him despite it being their damn fault that he accepted it, to begin with, just knowing that he did nothing wrong… but for the greater good, he has to bear it. He doesn’t even want Alexander to be known as his son not because he’s unwilling to accept parental responsibility but to spare him of the dishonor. Just… freakin’ ouch. I was so happy to see K’Ehleyr back and her character is just so freakin’ good and her wanting to allow Alexander to find his life path? Excellent parenting. So… needless to say, her being killed off pisses me off. They at least allowed her character to shine, but… it feels like they only did it to make Worf suffer more. It was well-executed, I was about ready to tear up and Worf being driven to kill Duras for all the suffering that he put him through and now killing the woman he loved (which btw the romantic chemistry was MUCH better here than last time)? I can’t blame him at all. I get why he got reprimanded since Duras was a political figure and this can cause a whole host of problems and clearly Picard was sympathetic… but I just felt so bad for Worf. At least he admitted that he was Aexander’s father and hopefully the poor kid will have a good life with Worf’s parents, bu… yeah. K’Ehleyr’s death stops me form giving this a perfect score, very least I wish we had gotten to see her fight instead of goign to commerical and them walking in on her bloody corpse… but at least they got the tone down. I just hope that one day, Worf and his brother can truly expose the conspiracy because Worf deserves a Hell of a lot better. 4.5/5.

Future Imperfect: Let’s perform a thought experiment, shall we? Imagine going on assignment on your birthday, business as usual… then some kind of mishap happens. You wake up… and discover that you have lost sixteen years' worth of your memory. You can’t remember significant life changes, special moments for yourself and your loved ones, or even your spouse and child. Then just as you begin getting used to things and accepting this new life… you find out that it was all a lie and you were in an illusion all along. You were captured and tricked… and then you find out that was also a lie and it was all due to a lonely alien child left on a barren planet/within a highly advanced Holodeck system that can give him anything that he wants, everyone he knew had died and he did all of this just to have a friend. Congratulations folks, you have now experienced what Riker went through this episode! Yeah, this episode was crazy. I feel bad for the poor kid, while he shouldn’t have done what he did we’re talking about a lonely child essentially forced to live in a Holodeck and just wanted to interact with someone real. Also, I loved how Riker got clued in on how the future word was fake, excellent call-back to Season One! Not much else to say, but good episode! It was wild, that’s for sure~ 3.5/5.

Final Mission: Well folks, this is the curtain call for Wesley Crusher. I know that he pops back up once or twice, but this will be his final episode as a main character as he finally enters the Academy. We’ll get to my final thoughts on Wesley here in a bit, but l focus on the episode itself first. And… it was fine. We have Picard, Wesley, and some third guy crash land on a desert planet, the Enterprise unaware of if they’re alive or not. Thus the three struggle to survive which not only is the third guy essentially a paranoid asshole… but a cave-in seriosuly injures Picard. Thus Wesley is more or less on his own and has to keep Picard alive. Thankfully we avoid killing him off, and thus they make sure to give Wesley a proper send-off. They let him showcase his strengths with his intellegence, fast thinking, and compared to in the beginning he’s much more mature and capable of handling an Away Mission. This convinced me that yes, Wesley is ready for the Academy and that he will be a great Starfleet Officer someday. Meanwhile the Enterprise are dealing with their own issues because of course they are. Nothing can ever just go easy for these people. can it? It’s fine. The Enterprise plot didn’t have me invested aside form worrying about Dr. Crusher. The poor woman just burris herself in her work to deal with her worry about Wesley and evades Troi when she tries to assure her Otherwise the plot is there sot hat it can be a solo Picard and Wesley adventure without hem interfering. Which while I havn’t been the biggest fan of their dynamic, it’s clear how much Welsey admires Picard such as recounting their Samaritan Snare adventure, and Picard admititng that he brought him along because he was going to miss the kid. It’s a nice moment between the characters and allows Wesley to truly open up… though I wish it focused more on him and his mother since that’s been seriously lacking, but ah well. It was still a good send-off episode for Wesley and that’s how you want to treat your characters, whether they stay ont he show or not. 3/5.

As for Wesley himself… it’s been a bumpy road. Do I agree with the consensus that Wesley is an annoying child character that even his actor agrees with (albeit I think jokingly but still)? No. Wesley isn't a bad character. He’s a smart young kid, tries his best, makes mistakes but tries to do his best, and he grew. He’s a perfectly likable kid and this episode especially shows the best of him. Do I agree that the character's role and execution were annoying and contributed to his reputation? Yes. That is ultimately what it boils down to decent character, poor execution. In S1 Wesley was elevated far more than he needed to be. He was given privileges that no other character his age would have been granted no matter the competency level that borders on blatant favoritism. Whenever he made a serious error, he got praise for fixing it, never scolded for his actions with The Naked Now being the worst example. He still had good episodes like Coming of Age, but alas. I think having a kid character who aspires to be in Starfleet, has a parent who is a prominent crew member, and being able to use his skills to help was a perfectly fine idea… but there were just issues with how they did it. S2 and 3 were. While I disliked him at the end of The Dauphin and he still got showed some blatant favoritism, it was better balanced. I didn't feel he earned to be an Ensign until this episode… y’know, the one that shipped him off to The Academy. Crusher being written out in S2 and then brought back in S3 also really killed any and all potential that their dynamic could have truly brought which also hurt. It really feels like by S3 they just didn’t know what to do with the character anymore, limiting him to mainly Helmsman duty. He wasn't being elevated anymore… but he wasn't adding anything anymore either. Maybe promoting him was to help give him something… but Wil Wheaton decided to go, and that ended that. I can’t say I’m sad to see Wesley go because his potential just got squandered to the point that keeping him just felt pointless, and having him go to the Academy feels like the best natural end-point for him, so might as well be now. Nevertheless, Wesley was still part of the crew and for all that I criticized, he certainly didn’t deserve the hate that he got. If people like or even relate to the character, that’s great! He just didn’t work for me unfortunateley. Wil Wheaton obviously moved on to bigger, better things and is well-liked in the fandom, so that’s good cause he certainly did the best that he could. He just wasn’t given a lot of good material. Hopefully Welsey’s later guest appearances will give him somethingg ood and heck maybe they’ll convince Wheaton to come back in Picard one day, but for now… farewell Wesley. Can’t say I’ll miss you, but it wasn’t the worst ride either.

#st watchthrough

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ginger-grimm · 4 years

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OC TROPE CHALLENGE

Day 4.5: Just Friends

Riley watched as Tilly and Bear hugged each other tightly before Tilly went off with Mason and Theo. Her eyebrow shot up, but she buried her face in her jacket before anyone could see. The young witch had thought Tilly was with Nixie, but maybe they were into polyamory? Coop had told her virtually nothing about their four new additions to the fight against Kate Argent and her father Gerard.

Bear took off with Malia and Lydia to deal with the not-her-uncle Hellhound. Tilly gingerly stalked over to Riley. “I saw that,” she said with a smirk. She chuckled. “You must think we’re very co-dependent.”

“Actually you were giving me more throuple vibes with Nixie.”

Tilly started laughing, catching the attention of the remaining group in the corner. Riley turned red like a tomato. This is why she didn’t like making assumptions. “No, oh Jesus, no!”

Riley cringed. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re fine,” Tilly waved her off. “It’s just Bear and I would never. I’m a lesbian. And he’s always been more like a brother to me anyways. We’re just friends.”

“Got it,” Riley pointed at her. “Again, sorry.”

“No worries. I get it. We’ve been getting it for a couple of years now.”

“Is that not annoying?”

Tilly shrugged. “I find it funny, actually. People are gonna believe what they want to anyways and sometimes it’s fun to fuck with them.”

Riley chuckled. She had only known the four newcomers for a couple of days but they were already growing on her. “Well, okay, now I know. So I’ll stop assuming things and just focus on us staying alive. Good luck with the guys. Look out for Mason, alright? Theo hasn’t done anything yet but that doesn’t mean he won’t try.”

“You got it, girl. See you later.”

BONUS:

TAGGING: @hughstheforcelou @firsthorror @eddysocs @raith-way @foxesandmagic @reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle

#ocappreciation #oc trope challenge #oc trope challenge 2021 #teen wolf #teen wolf oc #teen wolf original character #oc: tilly cole #oc: bear wallace

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starswornoaths · 4 years

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We Swear by Rote - Commission!

A commission done for the always wonderful @thegildenheart featuring Allie and her loves! Thank you again for your patronage, my dear! <3

4.5 spoilers!

Allie wakes following the battle with Zenos in the last place she expected, but swiftly finds that that’s not a bad thing.

word count: 3,794

Commission info!

Win or lose, the path you walk leads to oblivion. The better path leads you here. To me.

The words rang in the space between Allie’s ears as the glittering, ethereal vision in her mind grew dark. There was a weightlessness in that ensuing stillness that unsettled her, made her feel adrift at sea with nothing, not even flotsam from a shipwreck, to cling to. The dark that encased her was such a deep, permeating shadow that she couldn’t even tell if her eyes were open— or if it would even matter.

Eventually, she was pulled beneath that inky abyss by an unseen riptide, and at first she thought to fight it, to thrash and struggle, but then the pressure in her head lessened in that way it did when she floated closer to the surface of the sea— she was falling not deeper, but out, of the dark. It was a strange feeling to breach the surface of that abyss feet first, but that first gasp of crisp air tasted just as sweet.

Allie could only describe waking up as her consciousness sinking back into her body one drop at a time. It started with the pounding ache behind her eyes— ah, she had closed them— and slowly, feeling returned to her leaden limbs. Her whole body ached, pulsed with heat and pain, but with that agony came the relief of waking up at all.

Her body caught up with the rest of her at the last, when her eyes snapped open with a wide gasp, half against the pain, half to force her lungs to work through the burning. In a flash, it was as though she felt her soul click into place, and her nerves went alight with overstimulation. The scent of antiseptic burned in her nose, her skin itched from the scratch of bandages, and she was forcing herself upright before she had even realized she had moved.

Another gasp in the room— not Allie, she realized when she heard a chair skitter across wood. Even as the noise sounded too sharp for her ears at the moment, she looked at the source to see poor Honoroit staggering backwards in shock. Before she could remember how to form the words for an apology, he was dashing off through the wide doors beyond.

His presence here meant she was— ah, but this room was glumly familiar. She was in Ishgard, in the chirurgeon’s ward of the Congregation. In the very same bed Estinien had woken up in. Gods, but that felt like a lifetime ago.

The heavy thunder of footfalls fast approaching was enough to pull Allie’s focus back toward the door, though she couldn’t hide her shock at the figures that came into view.

Honoroit had left to fetch the Lord Commander and the Captain of the Watch, it would seem. All for her.

Faster than Allie could track with her eyes, Hilda closed the distance and practically slid the last half fulm of the wood floor on her knees to pull Allie to her, arms wound tightly around her hips.

“Allie— gods, you’re awake! We were—” Hilda’s eyes were wide, rubies glinting with the shine of unshed tears.

Her hands seemed not to know quite where to settle until they found Allie’s face and held it in her palms. Her frenetic jittering stilled, save for the heaving in her chest, as her eyes darted over her lover as if in search of blatant injury.

Finally, she found her voice again, quieter, almost trembling. “You’re alright, yeah? You’re— you’re here, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Allie managed to croak, throat dry as the Sagolii.

Though it was only for a moment, Hilda’s lip quivered. As if to hide the rest of her outburst, she wrapped her arms around Allie’s hips and curled into her torso, ear pressed as tightly to her chest as she could, as if she were burrowing down to her very heartbeat.

“You don’t have to fret over me, Hilda.” She tried again after a heavy swallow.

“I’m not fretting.” Hilda lied, pressing closer.

It was a paltry comfort, holding the back of Hilda’s head and rubbing her thumb back and forth in an effort to comfort her, but it was all Allie could do. She hoped it was enough.

Distantly, she heard Aymeric murmuring to Honoroit— a request to notify House Fortemps that she had woken up, and more of those fading runner’s footfalls. The weighty clack of armored boots against the floor were slower, more measured, as Aymeric drew close enough that those ornate boots came into the peripheral of her vision.

“Thank heavens you’re awake, my friend,” he said around a relieved sigh.

When Allie looked up at him, she saw the heavy bags under his eyes— nearly as heavy as Hilda’s. She wondered how long she had been out, but feared upsetting them with the question.

“What happened? Zenos—” Allie cut herself off with a frown, racking her brain for what happened and how she had managed to avoid death at the dancing corpse’s hands.

Hilda squeezed her arms tighter around her.

“You remember that, at least.” Aymeric said quietly.

As Hilda shifted to sit beside her, Aymeric explained what had happened— how Estinien had swept in at the last second to fight Zenos off and carry her to him, and how he had spirited her away. He went on to detail that Zenos quit the field after that, and the Imperials withdrew, allowing the Alliance to take back their position.

“But I have taken up enough of your time,” he said, and though his smile was tired, it was genuine. “I must needs return to the front— and I will be sure to notify Lady Ysayle once I am there of your condition, lest she fret herself into freezing the whole camp.” He paused halfway to turning and amended, “Before I forget, I was asked to deliver a message to you: when you are rested, you are to return home to the Rising Stones, where friends will be waiting for you.”

“I am home.” Allie insisted, and caught his hand in the one Hilda hadn’t had in a vice grip. “And friends were waiting for me.”

Aymeric’s smile warmed as he squeezed her hand faintly.

“Always, Allie.” He let go. “May we speak again soon, in happier circumstances.”

As she watched him leave and Hilda pressed all the harder into her side, Allie couldn’t help but think of the words that haunted her from that dream, the message that crossed space and time to reach her. Couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that she was watching so dear a friend walk back into the face of death, insisting that this was not her fight, and that she had more than earned her rest. He left for that darkness that Ysayle yet fought against, while she was left to wait and heal and pray.

Convalescing idleness rarely suited her in the best of times, and these were far from those halcyon days.

Win or lose, the path you walk leads to oblivion.

“C’mon. Tataru and the lot can wait a day at least. We’re gettin’ you home.” Hilda stood up abruptly, and held her hands out for Allie to take.

“You can stop fretting over me. I’m alright.” The Paladin reminded her, even as she accepted her lover’s hands and let herself be pulled to her feet.

“I’m not fretting,” Hilda insisted again, even as her hands came to Allie’s hips to steady her lest she stumble. “Home with you now, lass. There’s blankets and jim jams waitin’ with your name on ‘em.”

“I’m alright, really—”

“Allie.”

She froze at Hilda’s tone: low, firm, but splintering like firewood against an axe blade. Even in the cursory glances she had allowed herself as Aymeric had brought her up to speed, it had been clear how affected Hilda had been by what happened, but really taking her in with nothing else important to distract her highlighted how much Hilda was trying to put on a brave face for her. The near constant, worried upturn of her brow, the thin line she had set her lips in to try and keep herself together, the ever so faint tremble in her hands when she wasn’t moving, all of it spoke of how deeply this dark turn of events had rattled the otherwise unflappable Captain.

She needed for them to be home just as much as Allie did. If the Paladin couldn’t justify going home and resting for herself, she could always do it for Hilda. There was very, very little she would not do for her.

When Hilda spoke again, it was soft, the words half choked back with her unshed tears, “Let’s go home. Just for tonight.”

The better path leads you here.

“With blankets and jim jams.” Allie acquiesced, and leaned forward to gently rub her nose against Hilda’s. “And you.”

“You’ve always got me, silly.” Hilda sniffed, and let her away from the chirurgeon’s ward toward the lift.

Toward home.

Edmont had caught them outside the lift, and though he was no less fatherly in his concern and relief both, he ushered them both toward the door the moment Hilda mentioned they were heading home. It seemed all those dear to her conspired to shield her from the world, insofar as they were able. Perhaps with their combined effort, the realm could hold for a night.

The walk home was quiet, but far from cold for how closely Hilda pressed against her. Allie couldn’t help but feel like she were floating all the way to the front door— half in bliss for the intimate contact with her beloved, half out of the haze she still struggled to clear her head of. Even through that mental fog, Allie never feared something happening to them on the brief trip: there was no one in all the realm, save perhaps for Ysayle, that Allie felt safer with than with Hilda.

As Allie was ushered in ahead and Hilda took a moment to shut and bolt the door behind them, the Paladin wriggled her feet free of her boots and sucked in a deep breath. The scent of Ysayle’s flowers, well tended in her absence by what few staff came and went, filled her nose and sweetened that heady haze that yet clung to her mind.

“House is quiet.” Allie mused aloud when she realized no one had come around at their entry.

“Must have just missed ‘em.” Hilda replied, half distracted as she worked at a buckle on her boot.

With a grunt, the Mongrel was at last free of her shoes with one last insistent tug, and she haphazardly plopped them down next to Allie’s without a second thought. She seemed hellbent on getting Allie comfortable as fast as she possibly could, ushering her to the bedroom and pressing the plushest set of pajamas Allie owned into her hands.

“Hang on, let me help.” Hilda insisted, already working at the laces of her lover’s clothes.

On another sort of night, Hilda might have done so with that flirtatious smirk on her face and peppered in suggestive comments and kisses alike, laughing all the while. Instead, she disrobed Allie as though she were afraid of what she would find beneath, those ruby eyes of hers darting around every scrap of skin revealed in search for a sign that Allie wasn’t as well as she said. Though the bruising that stubbornly remained on her skin made Hilda’s eyes darken with concern, she seemed satisfied enough with it to finish helping her dress and gently nudge her into bed.

Gone was that jovial optimism that had dogged the Captain, and Allie wondered how long ago it had left when she realized she couldn’t recall the last time she’d been able to be home long enough to rest. With everything that had been happening with the Scions, and the headaches, and that voice from beyond the rift calling, reaching out to her, she’d gone and gotten tunnel vision. Ysayle had been no less busy, eagerly assisting in Ala Mhigo to hold off the Imperials.

And that had left Hilda to stay behind and lead the Watch. To protect their home to ensure they had a home to come back to, putting on a brave face and not leaning on anyone else, most like, if Allie knew her lover even half as well as she thought she did.

But this night was for Hilda, as much as she might argue otherwise, and the moment she had finished stoking a fire for them, Allie pulled her down to join her on the bed, ignoring the sputtering indignation from her lover.

“Hilda.” Allie said, matching that same soft, tentative tone that Hilda had given her before they had left the Congregation.

It had the same effect. Hilda stilled, lips wrapped around a word she hadn’t gotten to form, brows upturned in mild surprise. With care and reverence, Allie smoothed her hands down her sides, over the swell of her hips, and squeezed there to anchor them both. When Hilda looked a might less like she was wont to fall apart, Allie brought one of her hands up and pressed it to her own cheek. Hilda immediately molded her hand to its curve, thumb stroking along the apple of her cheekbone. Allie smiled as she leaned into the touch. After another moment, she took Hilda’s other hand and rested it over her heart.

“I’m here.” Allie said, and kept her voice soft. “It’s...it’s okay to not be tough right now.”

The smile Hilda gave her reminded her of broken glass. Those eyes shimmered faintly again, too bright and overfull with tears, but when Allie moved a hand up to brush her tears away, her smile eased into something gentler. With a quiet sniffle, Hilda melted against Allie, pressed every ilm of herself against her lounging lover, and softly rubbed their noses together.

“Hey, you know me.” Hilda murmured. A laugh, watery but genuine, bubbled up in her throat. “I’m no good with talking. S’Ysayle’s whole bit, innit?”

“She is better at it than the both of us.” Allie readily admitted with an affectionate squeeze to bring Hilda those scant ilms closer.

“And...and I know we both have things we need to talk about. I don’t have to be Ysayle to know that. And we will talk about it all, I promise, but…”

With a huff, Hilda deflated entirely, head falling into the crook of Allie’s neck. Any attempt to look at her was met with her burrowing into the pillow.

“S’not the same without her. She has all the words, and I don’t know how to find any of ‘em. And I don’t want to start looking when she’s not home. We should all be here.” Hilda said half into the pillows.

Even if she insisted that she didn’t have the words, Allie could hear the emotion behind them, the bitterness, the frustration, and it was all the Paladin could do to hold her closer and lament the unfair hand fate dealt them. Ysayle should be here, warm and happy and safe, and the Scions should be awake and safe, and Allie shouldn’t have to leave Hilda tomorrow to go and fix the world again, and the three of them should just be safe but they weren’t and that wasn’t fair to any of them.

“I’m s—”

Sorry, Allie had wanted to say, but Hilda pulled back enough to kiss her quiet. Despite not having a talent for words, Hilda’s mouth was no less clever for it, and she took her time in properly kissing her lover until Allie was soft and pliant and utterly senseless in her arms. Once Hilda decided she had made her point, she pulled away to sit properly in Allie’s lap. Her hips fit perfectly in Allie’s hands, and it took nothing for her to mold her grip flush against them. Gone were the tears, and though it wasn’t near so energetic as it could have been, there was a playful smile on Hilda’s face.

“No words, right? Not while Ysayle’s not home.” Hilda chided. “Not with the big stuff, at least. S’not fair to not include her.”

“Hilda, I’ll be gone before—”

Another kiss, pressed firmer this time. A definite, if gentle silencing.

“I know.” Hilda sighed against her lips before kissing her again, softly this time. “I know. So let’s not have those words right now. Let’s just have tonight. We can just...just be us tonight. Can’t we, Allie?”

The subtle tension that lingered in Hilda’s shoulders eased when Allie nosed at her neck to press open mouthed kisses to the warm, flushed skin there. As she melted against Allie, went all but limp atop her in a pile of contented bones, her hands slipped up Allie’s nape, soft as feathers, and came around to frame her face. Allie could feel her smile press against her cheek when she turned her head to promise against her skin, “Just us. With blankets and jim jams— which I notice you haven’t changed into.”

When Hilda laughed, it was, at last, as bright and effervescent as it should be, as Hilda deserved for it to be.

“‘Course you’d say that as soon as I get comfy.” Hilda teased with an affectionate nuzzle.

“I imagine you’d be even more comfortable out of those clothes.” Allie said without thinking.

Hilda sat up then, eyes alight with mischief and merriment, her grin wide as a coeurl’s.

“I’d normally ask for dinner first, y’know.” She teased, even as she reluctantly slid off of the bed and rummaged around for some sleepwear of her own.

There were at least a dozen other things that were going on that threatened to pull Allie’s focus away from this moment, things that she knew, in the back of her mind, that she would have to confront on the morrow. With the dawn, she would have to leave Hilda to be strong, alone, again, until Allie could piece the realm back together.

Win or lose, the path you walk leads to oblivion.

But such concerns were for the morrow. Allie need not walk a path at all, but take refuge in the dark. Right now, she was beholden to none but the women that she loved most in the world, and made a concerted effort to focus on nothing more than how gorgeous Hilda was as she shed her clothes and slipped into her soft sleepwear. Hilda seemed to be as acutely aware of how eager the realm was to tear Allie from her, too; she took no longer to change than was necessary, didn’t put on a show of flirtatious poses or lighthearted but suggestive flirting, but instead wriggling her way back against Allie’s side before anything could wedge itself in the space between them and vault the Paladin headlong into the next big disaster.

The realm wasn’t allowed to take her. Not tonight.

Tonight, Allie sat up on the bed and held out her hands to beckon Hilda back to bed. When she accepted those outstretched hands eagerly, Allie guided her into sitting down in front of her.

“Turn around.” Allie requested softly. At Hilda’s perplexed expression, she kissed her cheek and added a demure, “Please?”

“Oh look at you, battin’ yer eyelashes at me.”

Hilda feigned a sigh of resignation, even as she beamed like the sun and turned her back to her. Pleased, Allie, pressed a kiss behind Hilda’s ear. She took her time to carefully undo the high ponytail and side braids that Hilda always kept her ebon hair in. With each careful pass of her fingers drifting through her locks, slowly freeing more and more of them from to tumble down, Hilda eased by degrees until she was practically leaned bodily into Allie, back to chest, making very soft noises of contentment.

“There we are.” Allie gave a pleased hum, hands now idly, almost absentmindedly drifting through Hilda’s hair in gentle, slow strokes. “Cuddle with me in the blankets?”

When Hilda laughed, it was gentle, almost relieved. She tipped her head back to peer up at her lover for a long moment before leaning up to kiss her chin. She twisted in Allie’s lap, peppering more kisses along her jaw as she brought her hands up to cup her face.

“It ain’t often I get called on by glorious heroes such as yourself.” Hilda teased, and rubbed their noses together again. Her eyes drifted closed as she asked, voice little more than a whisper, “So tell me: what did I do to deserve you?”

“Being yourself.” Allie answered with a soft and unassuming kiss.

Hilda melted into her as eagerly as Allie drew her in, and it took next to nothing for either of them to sink down into the bed, against the pillows. The surrender was so mutual and so gradual it wasn’t clear who had led and who had followed, or if they had simply fallen in together, as they were wont to do, but as they took the time to bask in one another, they both decided that the hows and the whys of them being together in that moment didn’t matter. They never had. What was important was that they were, and that was enough. It was always, always enough.

Allie swathed them both in the downy soft blankets on their bed and burrowed down into the pillows with little preamble, and made a nest with her lover. Hilda practically laid on top of her, but let out a peal of delighted laughter when Allie used her strength to roll them both over and splayed half atop her, nuzzling into her with kisses and cuddles and a hand running through her loose hair.

“I know you need rest.” Hilda admitted around another kiss. “But—”

“But I need you. And we both need this. So let’s be together, like this, until we fall asleep,” Allie countered, kissing the tip of her nose.

The better path leads you here.

“Mmm, how long d’you suppose we can keep that up?” Hilda asked playfully, even as her hands showed no sign of slowing down their gentle caresses of what she could reach of her lover.

“Let’s find out, and just hope morning never comes, yeah?”

“Yeah.” With a hum, Hilda kissed her firmly, hands fisting in the lapels of Allie’s sleepwear to keep herself tucked close. “I rather like that challenge.”

So they stayed in their little sanctuary, where the world couldn’t touch them, swapping kisses, caresses, and murmured words of love until they couldn’t anymore and simply fell asleep, pressed close and closer still, lingering in the sanctuary of the night.

#ffxiv #writing commissions #thegildenheart #Hilda Ware #thank you again so so much for commissioning me!!!#I adore your girl and I'm so honored to get to write her being happy with her ladyloves ;-;#allie lindblum

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