#sorry about my bad handwriting gang
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creep-girl · 1 month ago
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ii17 deleted scene
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millieisawriter · 25 days ago
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Stitch you up
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arthur morgan x reader
summary: a fanfiction where arthur finds your own journal where you wrote about him
wc: 1.2k
english isn't my first language
♡this wasn't requested, but if you wish to request something you're more than welcome♡
all pics are from pinterest
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You had joined the gang recently, and immediately noticed him. Arthur Morgan. The big, bad mystery of a man. Soon enough you learnt that he had a past more wounded than anyone you've ever known, and you wanted to help him.
God, you wanted to help him so badly, stitch up the wounds he hid from everyone else, light up his darkness even at the cost of your own light. But you didn't know scaring the shadows away won't be easy. It was as if he didn't let you do it, scared it will break you. Little did he know, the rejection hurt you like a gentle hammer to the heart.
You could be a bit scatterbrained at times. Like that one time when you left your journal god knows where. Writing down your thoughts always seemed to help you feel better, but now there was a risk someone could find it and read it.
Arthur never planned on finding your journal, nor had he intended to read it. He saw it abandoned by the tree where you often sat alone in the evenings, writing while the others laughed and drank by the fire. His hand hovered over it, hesitating. He knew he should leave it be, or better - return it, but curiosity twisted tight in his chest.
Your handwriting was delicate but hurried, with little mistakes probably caused by you glancing around from time to time, checking if no one is looking into the journal over your shoulder. Arthur knew he shouldn't look where he didn't belong. But he kept flipping, kept glancing over the words like he was pulled by a higher force.
Until that one page...
I tried to stitch you up with thread from my own skin, thought maybe my bones could be your bandages. I couldn't fix you and broke myself in the process. But you stay empty and I stay broken, a ruined sacrifice for a love that never wanted saving.
Arthur stared at the words, re-reading them a few times. He felt it in his core, even if no name was mentioned, he knew well who you wrote about. Too well.
His heart was thudding when he shut the journal closed. He had known you had a thing for him, but he thought it's just an infatuation that will eventually pass. Now it turned out your feelings ran deep.
He searched for you, intending to give back the journal as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't read a single word. But from the panic in your eyes, even if the rest of your body tried to remain calm, he knew that you knew.
"I uh... found this by the tree," he muttered, helding the little journal out to you.
You took it, your gaze dropping to the ground in embarrassment, and instead of thanking the man, you said, "I'm sorry."
Arthur looked away, swallowing his words. He should be the one apologizing. You did nothing wrong, developing feelings wasn't your fault. Reading your journal, however, was Arthur's choice.
"Nothin' to be sorry for," he managed to say, "I shouldn't have read it. I– I don't know why I did."
He didn't meet your gaze. Instead, now he was the one looking at the ground. As if he wanted to dig a hole and dug all his guilt and embarrassment there.
"I didn't mean for anybody to see this," you still felt the need to explain yourself, "I know what I wrote must seem so foolish to you."
He shook his head and finally looked at you, "Ain't foolish. Just... I ain't the man for you. Truth be told, I ain't the man for anyone."
That was exactly what you wished to prove him wrong. You wanted him to believe he could be loved. He was worth it, even if he couldn't see it. You wanted to make him see it.
"Says who?" You asked.
He sighed.
It was his concious decision. Nobody had to tell him. He knew he can't be a bad man and expect good things to happen to him. The past had told him enough.
"Says me," he muttered eventually, "I know what I am, I know what I've done. You, on the other hand, you–"
You interrupted him, "Don't give me that, Arthur. I know what you are, too. And so what of it? You're not a bad man, you're just... broken."
"And I won't burden you with fixin' me. Don't do this to yourself, don't go gettin' hurt over someone like me."
"What if I want to be burdened with it?"
That was foolish, way too foolish, to love someone for such a short period of time, but the feeling for some reason so strong you wanted to be their bandage, their stitches, their cure. It didn't make sense, but has love ever made sense?
But, damn it, Arthur would be lying if he said he didn't want it. He had lied so many times already, saying he doesn't feel the same, but his heart ached for you. He wished he could touch you, kiss you, feel you, fully convinced it could fix him so easily.
"We're both fools," he said, his eyes meeting yours and in them you could see the truth. He could reject you as many times as he'd like, but his eyes were longing for you in ways you wished for.
"Maybe," you agreed, your lips curling into a sad smile, "but if being a fool means having the chance to love you... then I'll gladly be one."
Not letting you love him was what broke you, but he was scared letting you do it, would be even worse. But this time, he didn't pull away when you moved closer to him.
Maybe in his eyes, he wasn't worthy of you, of your feelings, of being fixed, of any of what you were willing to give him. But in yours... he was worthy of way more than what this life could offer.
You reached up, your palm landing on his jaw, the stubble nicely tickling your soft skin. This touch was something he longed for from the moment he knew you wanted him the way he wanted you. Your touch sent a weave of warmth through him, as if it had any healing powers.
He closed his eyes, partially because he couldn't quite bear the weight of his own feelings, and partially because he wanted to stay like this for as long as possible. To memorize your touch in case this will never happen again.
"We're both fools," he repeated, his eyes opening, and he gently took your wrist and moved your hand so that he could place a kiss on the back of it, "but if you're willin', then I reckon I am too."
There was just something about you that made this man feel like maybe misery isn't something he's sentenced to for the rest of his life. Maybe there was a flicker of hope, too. Maybe for once he could love and be loved in peace, if he tries to deserve it.
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romanticandupsetting · 20 days ago
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Could you write a jealous Hanamiya Makoto X shy female Reader?
Like a rival or a random guy is flirting with reader (maybe Imayoshi?) idk just something I'd like to see.
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FIRST MEETINGS AND JEALOUSY?!
jealous!hanamiya makoto, shy!female reader, fluff, high-school setting, implied that he's taller than reader (a headpat), i TRIED MY BEST to get his character to fall in love, reader's kinda ditzy bcs i read in his wiki that his type is a "stupid girl"
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• hanamiya makoto isn't one for love.
• the thought of being in love alone is something he couldn't fathom. him? in all his wit and glory all being putty for a girl??
• that was all until he met you.
• you with your sweet eyes looking up at him (he's too tall!) and your voice that is so nice to listen for giving him praises and compliments.
• "wow! so it's like a king hidden in the shadows??"
• a pink shade covers your face as you realize that you just shamelessly talked to him.
• "i'm sorry!!!"
• it was casual at first. you sit beside him on physics and he started going to class diligently just to see you.
• you didn't even know he was missing classes!
• he wouldn't listen, though. he'd just glance at you and your notes and you assume that he must be looking at you because he would like to copy your notes for later.
• after class, he's shocked to see you give your notebook to him. "i thought you'd want it... you were looking at my notes earlier..."
• he chuckles and just accepts, pats you on the head while he's at it.
• hanamiya doesn't even need your notes. he gets the top scores without studying but he'll accept the notebook because it's yours. it came from your bag and contains your handwriting.
• also, he tried reading your notes and he just can't study it like that. you even spelled some of your words wrong!!
• he becomes friendly to you while keeping his "bad boy" persona but a couple (more like all) of the students notice how his gaze and tone softens if it's directed at you.
• one day, you're surprised to hear him ask as he returns your notebook.
• "wanna watch me play?"
• you blink like an owl at him, your pretty eyes batting your pretty eyelashes without even noticing.
• "we have a game at like 5 pm. you wanna come with and watch?"
• "i—is it okay?"
• he snickers. "why wouldn't it be okay?" he pats your head. "dummy."
• makoto grabs your bag without further notice and walks ahead. "come on, let's go. i'll treat you to a burger or something after."
• your heart is pounding. this is the first time you've been invited to something!!
• you've always been quite shy and found it difficult to approach others which in turn, others make it difficult to approach you as well.
• but now you're really happy that hanamiya has invited you!!
• until it all went wrong.
• "the hell you ganging up on her for?"
• he's scary. hanamiya makoto is scary.
• you've never seen him like this. sure, you heard some rumors but he's always been kind to you so you never believed it.
• he's so close to throwing that guy down the stairs.
• "h–hanamiya, it's okay..."
• you try your best to smoothen down the situation but he's just not having it.
• the way his huge hand grips the guy's collar is terrifying by itself.
• makoto takes a look at you and honestly, you looked like you were about to cry so he let that guy go.
• he'll remember his face though.
• he sighs, letting out the last (or is it?) of his frustration.
• makoto grabs your bag from your shoulder and puts it on his.
• "so, how about that burger i offered?"
"hah?! satsuki, don't ya think ya saw wrong?" aomine blabbers as he picks up his gym bag.
"i'm serious, dai-chan! i saw it with my own eyes!" momoi fights back.
"what's going on?" imayoshi asks, popping in the locker room. "you two hurry up. we gotta get back before it's dark."
"satsuki said he saw that bastard with a girl."
"bastard?"
"imayoshi-kun, you're familiar with hanamiya-kun right?"
"i am."
"i saw him with a cute girl when he was heading outside! he was even carrying her bag!"
"huh?" imayoshi fakes a gag, being unable to picture hanamiya with a girl. "oh."
"what's up?"
"but i do remember... back in middle school hanamiya said he's into stupid girls."
you take a bite of the burger you took from the tray. hanamiya looks at you with his arm on the table and a palm below his cheek.
"you know that's my order, right?"
"what?!"
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afluffyfriend · 1 month ago
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ARG SPOILERS FOR II 18??? THE SURVIVORS
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using this crossword, we get everyone who's alive (and will play a role in ii 18) and I have SO many questions (ignore my bad handwriting)
one, TOILET ISN'T HERE??? Which mean that MEPHONE MIGHT HAVE MADE HIM. OH MY GOD
DUDE. Toilet is just Mephone's OC he made so he would have somewhere to vent out all his anger. Like he literally made a guy just to be annoyed at him for doing the ONE THING he was supposed to do. Mephone what is your problem?? HELLO??? Toilet wanted to just fill the role he was LITERALLY made for, and then he got replaced by some random tablet like I'D BE MAD AS HELL TOO
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Though that does make me kinda confused why he would accuse Toilet of being affiliated with Cobs if HE made him? Unless he just forgot he made Toilet?? I have no clue what's going on there. It COULD be a bait and switch; they make us think Toilet's dead, but he comes back and proves he truly is the GREATEST assistant.
Shimmers, Cobs, and Mephone being alive all make sense, not really much to say there. I assume that line that Cobs have about Mephone "proving himself" relates to the Shimmers in some way (possibly sneaking onto their ship to take the Baby Egg Fan and TT were raising??). I mean, the Eggs are still hanging up their in the ship, they're probably going to be fairly important.
I don't really have much to say about robot versions of Brian and gang (sorry buddies, I'm sure you'll be VERY vital. I just don't know how) BUT MEPAD AND THE GHOSTS- With Purgatory Mansion gone, I'm assuming Dough and Bow will immediately have to possess something, otherwise they'll probably just dissipate. MAYBE they could possess the phone and Baxter? The three of them definitely had something cooking, probably relating to Bow's Tail story (PLEASE I WANNA HEAR IT SO BAD!!)
Bow being alive could lure the Shimmers closer to their little trio... but also alert Cobs and Mephone to their location as well.
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BOT IS ALIVE! THEY LIVE!! AND they're probably really sad since they just watched all their friends disappear in the blink of an eye. But THEY LIVE YAY!!! Really excited for the Bow Bot meet up. I'm guessing the finale will just be the Ghosts, Mepad, and Bot (and Baxter! Can't forget him.) trying to save or stop Mephone from hurting the Shimmers while also not getting caught by Cobs.
Maybe the Shimmers help them recover those who they lost in exchange for saving their baby again?? I'm not too sure yet, I'll have to see the trailer! And I have NO clue how the robot versions of J.U.S.T.I.N and them will play into all this. I'm really excited so I will be impatiently waiting patiently.
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whimsylace · 1 year ago
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Hey mate; in your Tags you were asking for asks and as you are the (self proclaimed) #1 Darry apologist, I thought you might want to share some of your Darry Headcanons with the world?
DARRY CURTIS HEADCANONS
﹕୨୧ ˚ ࿐
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anon i love you so much oh my god. ur ask was like a gift from god or sumh💯💯🗣️🗣️ THANK U SM FOR THE ASKK IVE ALWAYS WANTED TO SHARE THESE !!!!!!!!!!!
he sleeps in his parents’ old room
secretly drinks when he’s having a tough time. the only two people that have caught him are soda and two
has dimples. this is basically canon because patrick swayze has them but its not talked ab enouhj!!!!1!!!!!1!!!!!11
has caught dally drinking from their fridge straight out the carton before and forbid him from ever going near the fridge again.
^isn’t aware that the entire gang does this (-pony and johnny because they’ve been paranoid that they’re going to get banned from the fridge ever since that incident.)
rants to tim all the time. tells ponyboy to stay away from the shepards but is also besties with the literal leader like hmmmmm,,, sometjing isn’t right here…………
was the first person dally met when he came to tulsa. literally scooped him up into his arms and brought him home.
sSPEAKING OF DAL! darry worries waay too much about him. dallys like a kid brother to him n hes just constantly paranoid something bads gonna happen to him.
((the “dally sees darry as an older brother” headcanon is literally whats keeping me going rn🙏))
sleeps with his childhood teddybear . their parents gave it to him on christmas when he was 7 and has been attached to it ever since.
actually rlly interested in literature!!! he’s tried to write a couple books by himself before but couldnt get them published.
tries to always wake up early so he gets to make breakfast (he doesn’t want their kitchen to be in flames when he wakes up)
gets genuinely upset when someone makes fun of his age. he grew up too fast cries bawls shits
would always bake with his mom!!!! they would bake together every week. it’s how he has his moms chocolate cake recipe memorized.
has really fancy handwriting. except it used to be all fancy and now it just looks like a doctors note
helps two-bits mom with cooking and his sister with her homework. also does two’s chores in return for stolen free beer (not buying it himself makes him feel less guilty)
would take every stray cat home if he could. prefers cats to dogs because he hates how noisy they are,, but he adores puppies .
I HAVE MORE BUT I DONT WANNA MAKE THIS TOO LONG SORRY🤕🤕
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askthechronoverse · 7 months ago
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Last Chapter •||• Next Chapter
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Kit was awoken by the sound of boots above her head. Blinking sleep out of her eyes, she floated toward the sound. Just beyond her bedroom door, a trapdoor was open in the ceiling with a ladder that led up to an attic. She climbed the ladder silently, the scene that revealed itself at the top keeping her to the spot.
"... 'll go with you on the whole 'change my appearance when I die' thing. But how is he back? I thought you sealed him away in a pocket dimension?" The only person Kit could see was Lucy, but it was clear the boots wouldn't have come from her. A woman's voice clumsily followed up on the question, though it did sound very confident and draped with an accent Kit had never heard before.
"Well, I wouldn't say he's back, exactly. This doesn't quite feel like what happened last time. All I know is that I've been getting multiple signals from multiple universes crying for help because they were attacked by someone with a big glowy stick. Now, I know many people with big glowy sticks but everything else seems to add up to deja vu all over again." The woman's voice was highly energetic now and going at a speed Kit could barely follow. "I tried to get the rest of the gang back together, but Batman is having issues with the Joker that he can't stray away from and a Gandalf with a far brighter looking outfit needs to ensure that Middle Earth is safe and refuses to leave. What about you, WyldStyle? Shall we team up one last time for a multiversal adventure?"
"Normally, I'd jump at the chance to go kick some butt, especially now that we've been at peace here for decades now. It's just… You came at a really bad time. One of my closest friends is probably going to prison and if what you're saying is true, I need to stay here to make sure that everything I've built doesn't come crashing down. I'm sorry. You need to find someone else." There was a longing hidden among those words like a neon light in a dark room.
"You don't sound terribly certain. But I do understand your reasoning. I do. I see you have my number right there. That number hasn't changed, even though I have. If you do feel the need to reach me, just call that number and Bob's your uncle, I will be right by your side with my TARDIS, ready to whisk you away to adventure." The boots thudded energetically against the floor, but the sound left the air far too quickly for her to have left by normal means. The sound that came next hurt her ears, like a machine ripping through something unrippable. Kit slid down the ladder and headed back to bed.
Lucy was already out the door by the time Kit had woken up the next morning. She floated to the kitchen and saw her name written on a note on the refrigerator. She read it without taking it off of the fridge:
Charmy,
I had to leave early for work because of an emergency. Please make sure you keep Kit, Vito, and Bellamy out of trouble.
Mom
Kit looked around for some toaster waffles and, after successfully finding some, threw them in the toaster. The voice from last night echoed in her mind. Something was happening. Was it the same something that scared her father?
Her mind didn't register the transition between going to the kitchen and heading up the ladder to the attic. She also couldn't register Vito's cries to climb down and his calls for his sister. The attic was full of all kinds of weapons and wanted posters for various criminals that were perforated with holes. At the center of everything was a corkboard. At the center of that was a note with a phone number and "The Doctor" written in Lucy's handwriting. She took a picture of the note with the camera of her father's phone.
"What are you do… Huh? What is all this?" Charmy picked up a shield made out of an ancient stop sign.
"I don't know. But I think Aunt Lucy knows something. Also, this … doctor." Kit pointed to the note. "You know what ? I think I'm going to give the doctor a call."
"No. Whatever… this… is has to do with Mom. I say you talk to her before you call random doctors." Charmy stated pointedly, though it wasn't clear to Kit how much of this was an act or a serious suggestion.
"No. If this doctor has answers-!" Kit's voice was more urgent now, but Charmy cut her off.
"What are you gonna tell them, Kit? 'Hi, I found your number in my aunt's secret weapon storage'? No. Talk to Mom. She wouldn't keep something big from us." Charmy kept her cool, not seeing the flash of pain behind Kit's eyes when she mentioned secrets.
"I think she is. It sounds like she knows something that she thinks she needs to protect us from. Charmy, I'm not sure she's going to tell us."
"Come on. She told me she'll be home soon. Wait for her, OK? If she says nothing useful… then we can call this doctor." Kit seemed to slump, knowing she had lost this argument, though a glint in Charmy's eyes cast doubt on the older teen's intentions. "Now, let's get out of the forbidden attic arsenal." She practically pushed Kit out of the attic and to the living room, where the others waited for Kit and Charmy to return.
“Let’s go outside, Char.” Vito gestured to the door. “I don’t wanna waste our summer vacation in the house.”
“Sounds good to me!” Charmy clapped her hands together. “There's no sense waiting here for Mom! Let's go to the park!” At least part of this was aimed at Kit, who gripped her bag with understanding.
The four friends left the house and began heading for the local park. Kit and Bellamy were floored with how same feeling all of the streets and buildings they passed were. The occasional billboard showed advertisements for doctor's offices and other boring businesses. Some did slow their stride to watch Kit, most of the people around town seemed to keep to themselves as they moved around on their way. At an intersection, Bellamy tried to cross the street but had to tumble quickly to avoid a line of cars rushing past with no regard for pedestrian welfare. Vito cleared his throat and jabbed a knit covered finger up at the crosswalk light, which had only just signaled that they could walk across the street.
The group eventually found themselves walking through the iron threshold of a small park. The sign above the gate proclaimed that the park was called Sunrise Park from in front of an ornate iron made sun. Kit scanned her surroundings and shook her head in absolute disbelief. The park was pretty, she had to concede. But it wasn't as beautiful as Flowery Park. Instead of being a sea of flowers, this park was mostly grass with the occasional shrub, tree, and flower combination. Before them was a statue of an angel spilling a jar of water into a pool surrounding her. Benches surrounded this water fixture and a few older minidolls and minifigures fed the pigeons around them. Charmy trotted a few yards behind the statue where some other kids were playing kickball. After talking to the oldest in the group, she gestured for the other three to come over and join the game. She introduced Kit and Bellamy to each kid and the four split up into opposing teams. Some of the minidoll and minifigure kids did eye Kit’s cowlick and her floating with curiosity, but they ultimately didn't pass judgment on her as they played. Kit found that her worries about her dad vanished as the game progressed.
The kids played until around noon, when the neighborhood kids began to filter out to get lunch. Some of the parents who noticed Kit ushered their children out of the park quickly. She could hear these parents whisper, debating among themselves, wondering how close this child looked to her infamous father. Some of the more brazen minifigures and mini dolls pulled out their phones and compared what they saw on the screen to her face. She threw the hood of her hoodie over her head, using the drawstring to pull it tight.
The four friends walked back home, talking more animatedly about what summer vacation was going to look like now that the two Unikingdomers were there. Once they got home, Vito turned the TV on to the local news.
After a weather report that forecasted the rest of the week to be damp and misty, the news spoke of a parade happening over the weekend to honor the career of General Sweet Mayhem, which the impossibly pretty newscaster hoped wouldn't be postponed because of the rain. It quickly moved on to other topics that seemed to interest the hosts more.
“And now we turn to the main story. Rex Dangervest’s trial has been set to start in just a few hours and will be the first one held at the Awntawp Correctional Center by Unitron's top brass and the Queen's appointed judge. Since it's being held out there, we probably aren't going to see the trial live, though Chief Starhawk does want to make this trial an example for other space criminals who think they can get away from the law.” Her cohost chuckled in a way that made Kit’s stomach churn.
“I wonder if Queen Unikitty is going to be taken in as well. You heard the chief yesterday: she was harboring that evil man for decades! Can you believe how-!” Kit quickly snatched the remote and turned the TV off, face turning red.
As if the TV had sent a special signal crying for help, Lucy came through the front door with a loud thud. Charmy ran to her mother, stopping just short of a foot or so when she noticed how the light in her mother's eyes was dim.
"Are you okay?" The question tumbled from the young adult's lips as she moved aside to let her mother flop down on the couch's lower level.
"I'm just tired. Sometimes, I wonder why the Assembly is full of so many stubborn men. Can you do me a favor and make something for lunch for everybody?" Charmy gave her mother a quick nod and rushed into the kitchen to see what ingredients they had left in the pantry. Lucy looked over to Kit, who was staring at her expectantly. "Is there something you need, kiddo?" The nickname made Kit waver for just a moment. While she took a second to gather her thoughts again, Lucy turned on the TV and, when Rex’s name was mentioned, changed the channel to a cooking show. While the chef, a tan skinned creature with thick light brown eyebrows and a similarly thick mustache speaking with an accent that was barely understandable, danced around his kitchen to poppy electronic music, Kit found her voice.
"Who is the doctor?" The question made Lucy almost choke.
"Where did you hear that name?” Lucy’s reaction came strong and explosive, punctuated with a long, rough sigh. “They are a very mysterious person that you really shouldn't know anything about." She stretched her arms behind her back before continuing. "Why do you ask?"
"I just heard Dad mention the name once.” Kit paused, choosing what she wanted to reveal carefully. “He was talking to Uncle Emmet about somebody attacking his raptors before we left. He said he saw portals on security camera footage." Kit surprised herself at how well she was able to hide how she was feeling as she spoke.
"Portals?" Lucy was also keeping a decent poker face. If she knew anything, Kit couldn't see it on her face. "That could be anything. Your father has a lot of enemies, enemies with super advanced technology."
"Does that include this doctor?"
"That I don't know. What I do know is that you probably should go find your cousin and your friend and tell them both that lunch should be ready soon." Lucy turned back to the TV, finalizing the end of the conversation. Kit turned the TV off and Lucy gave her a stern look.
"My dad was scared, Aunt Lucy. I need to know what's going on." Kit was firm.
"You are just like him. Definitely your father's daughter. If he wanted to tell you more, he would have."
"He didn't know! He had to call Uncle Emmet about it!" Her voice was raised in exasperation.
"Neither of them would know! Emmet was barely involved! It's something only me and MetalBeard know anything about!" The words were in the air before Lucy realized what she said and hung for a while, thick and heavy. She quickly recovered from the shock and turned the TV back on. "Go find Vito and Bellamy. I'm sure your fathers give me full permission to ground you if you keep this up." Kit started her search in the kitchen with an angry aura.
"I heard Mom yelling. I assume that didn't go well?" Charmy stirred a pot full of mac and cheese as Kit shook her head. "Guess you have to give it up." She winked. "If you have to make a call, use your dad's phone outside. Bellamy is out there meditating anyway." Kit nodded wordlessly and headed for the backyard. She sat on the double decker porch swing and pulled her dad’s phone out of her bag, punching in what she thought was the passcode. After trying Richard's birthday and failing, she was able to get in with hers. She found the photo of the mysterious phone number and dialed it carefully. The women's voice from the previous night answered after several impossibly long rings.
"It's about time I heard back from you. Do you know how hard it is to find another type 40 to swap with the one you stole behind my back? Now I know you're not calling me to apologize… Unless… What year is it for you? Have you settled down in the Unikingdom yet? I'm fairly certain that is the timeline I'm currently in. It has to be if you're calling me. You can't exactly call me from non-existence." The voice didn't seem to take a single breath. “Congratulations on the whole settling down thing, by the way! You made a good move doing that instead of -!”
"Are you a doctor?" The woman paused when the voice she heard didn't match the voice she was expecting. Kit could almost hear the gears whirling in the woman's head.
"OH! I know what part of the timeline you're in! I was always expecting this number to call me, but I was hoping it would be from someone else. Is he still in possession of that type 40?" This voice talked so fast, it was hard for the teenager to interject. "I suppose it doesn't matter at this point. The poor girl served a purpose and I have heard he's been doing some good things with the gift he was given. A shame he had to play the part he played before he could do that, but we all have our roles to play at the end of the day. Oh right! You asked me a very good question. The answer is yes, sort of. I am The Doctor. The definitive article, you might say.”
"How do you know so much about my dad?" Kit scratched her head. She looked over to Bellamy, who was deep within meditation.
"He had a child as well! Brilliant! Responsibility. I am a little curious how you got this number. Don't think this would be something Mr. No One I Can Trust But Me would have programmed in his phone."
"I found it when I was exploring my aunt's house. I took a picture with my dad's phone." The poor girl was surprised to be able to get a word in edgewise.
"For a man who chooses the most convoluted way to solve his problems, he knows how to raise a very clever girl! I know you know your father's a time traveler, so this question won't seem strange: what year is this? What important things are going on around you?"
"It’s… the 25th year of the Unikittiean Era. My dad's in jail, about to stand trial. Something attacked his raptors and tore apart his office, something that came in a portal."
"I see. That is very helpful. I believe I know fully what part of the timeline we're in now, and it's good that you called. Because I know I'm going to need some help and I have a feeling the daughter of a time traveler would be just the sort of companion I need for this adventure. Can you meet me at the old brickyard in a place called Morph's Landing? You can bring your friends if you'd like. The more the merrier I say! But I would like you to meet me after dark. If you can't come, just give me another call. I'm hoping I can convince you to come, but maybe you take after your other parent a little bit more than you take after your rebellious father." And with that, the line went silent and disconnected.
"Who were ya talkin' to, Kit?" Bellamy got up from their seat on the grass. It wasn't clear to Kit how long her self-proclaimed bodyguard was listening.
"I'll talk about it later. I'm supposed to tell you that we have lunch ready. I need to make another call, though." When Bellamy left, she looked through the contacts. She didn't have to go far to find what she needed. After half a ring, someone picked up.
"Hello?" The familiar monotone was comforting. "Is this Catherine?"
“Hey, Papa! How is Dad holding up?" Kit's voice shook, barely able to control or contain her emotions.
"Your father is doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances. They currently have him held in a holding cell on Awntawp. Unfortunately, that's where I am as well. Not in the holding cell, mind you. On this miserable little planet. Unitron needs a better decorator." Kit chuckled. It was good to see that her father was able to make a joke despite how stressed out he sounded. "I needed to hear you laugh more than you would know. Your father is constantly thinking about you. As am I."
"Is Dad coming home anytime soon?"
"I doubt it. It seems like Unitron wants a long and messy trial, judging by how they speak to us. There are a lot of people on your father's side that are willing to stake their reputation on defending him, so I don't believe-" his words are cut off by something Kit couldn't hear. The response to this interruption was muffled, but Kit could make out "Catherine" and "my Beloved". After a little while, Richard returned fully to the phone line. "Your father says hello and not to worry about him. He loves you very much. It's against the rules of the prison for me to give the phone to him." Kit could hear a muffled version of her father's voice shout "I love you, Kitten!"
"Tell Dad I love him too. I'm still going to worry though. The way things have been sounding on the news, they want to…" Kit took a breath to hold back tears.
"I know. Your father isn't popular around here. It's made a lot worse by how antagonistic people have been around him. Maybe this is why he never took us to Syspocalypstar." Richard sighed, though the sound could only just be heard. "I'm going to be here for a while as part of your father's legal defense. Lucy already knows this. Please be good. I know this is going to sound unfair, but you are your father's best foot forward right now. Maybe if they see that he did a good job raising you, people will be kinder."
"I'll try, Papa. Love you." Kit tried not to let her heartbreak show her voice, but the way her hand held her bag and the tears forming in the corners of her eyes called her bluff.
"I love you too, my lucky charm. I'll call when I'm able. I am so glad your father had the foresight to give you his phone. Goodbye." When the phone disconnected this time, Kit was left staring at the home screen, the wallpaper now another photo of her riding a carousel at a carnival when she was practically a baby. She pushed the phone into her bag and walked inside where everyone in the house was sitting at the kitchen table with bowls of steaming hot mac and cheese.
"Who were you talking to?" Lucy asked, patting the seat next to her. Her face was unreadable as Kit sat down and grabbed a ketchup bottle to slather the contents over the top of the noodles.
"Papa. I miss them, Aunt Lucy." Kit began to pick at her food.
"I'm sure your father was happy to hear from you. Did he say anything about…" Lucy let herself trail off.
"Yeah. He said that Dad missed me."
"Of course he does. He loves you so much." Lucy ate a heaping spoonful of food before glancing back at Kit. "Sorry for yelling at you earlier. I'm under a lot of stress. I know you are too. None of this is easy for anyone here." Kit nodded.
"It's OK, Aunt Lucy." The five ate in relative silence for a while. After what felt like a lifetime, Lucy spoke up again.
"I have to leave after this to do some work. Charmy, I'm going to be super late. Please don't wait for me to put everyone to bed.” The oldest of the children nodded a short nod. Conversation turned to something a bit less pressing after this. Almost immediately after the empty bowls were taken away and put in the sink, Lucy took her leave and left for parts unknown. Bellamy waited for the sound of Lucy's car to leave the driveway before speaking.
"You weren't just talkin' to Regent B, Kit. Who was that?" Bellamy got up first and started to do the dishes. "Come on. Help me dry." Kit grabbed a towel and stood next to her friend. Vito and Charmy remained in their seats, but turned to the two with focused interest.
"I found an armory Aunt Lucy has in the attic last night. She was talking to a lady, this Doctor. The Doctor knows Dad and asked me to meet her at a brickyard at some place called Morph's Landing." Kit opened her mouth to continue, but Charmy replied to her cousin with a sparkle in her eyes.
"Morph's Landing is the historical district. Some of the buildings there are dated from all the way back when the Realms were separate." Charmy tapped her chin. "What could be all the way out there in an old brickyard?"
"That's what I want to find out. I'm going to do it. She said my friends could come too, so I guess she's expecting all of us?"
"No way are we going." Vito waved a hand in horizontal cutting motion. "Mom's going to wonder where we snuck off to. Charmy, remember when you tried to sneak into that Fifth Harmeowny concert?"
"Yeah… but come on! Staying here would be like Dad reporting Mom when they first met: the boring option! This could be a call to adventure! The quest I've been waiting all my life for!" Her eyes were still shining, still gleaming with a light that was hard to look at head on.
"If Kit is going, I need to as well. I have my orders and those orders are to guard her body." Bellamy finished the last bowl and passed it to Kit. “I don't care what the rest of you do.”
"Looks like you're outnumbered, little bro." Charmy sang out. "Come on! Mom's gonna be gone a while and I have enough money for a taxi!" Charmy ran upstairs.
"How is she older than me?" Vito got up from his chair. He walked to the fridge and flipped the long irrelevant note over, writing a note of his own.
Mom
Went to show Kit around Morph's Landing.
We might be late. Love you
Charmy.
"It amazes me how you can do that." Kit glanced at the note and whistled.
"Yeah. Charmy's handwriting isn't hard to copy." He shrugged and dug through some cabinets. His search was successful, as he came back with granola bars. He shoved them in Kit's bag as Charmy passed.
"Alright, gang! Let's get to Morph's Landing!" She was out the front door before the sentence was finished. A taxi was waiting for them on the side of the road, possibly having been called in Charmy's frantic state. The four piled into the back and the taxi sped away.
The taxi pulled in front of a large iron gate in almost no time at all. Kit honestly wondered if it would have been cheaper to walk for how fast the ride was, but figured something in Charmy's head was prioritizing their safety over the quickly darkening world around them. When they got out, Kit surveyed the gate in full. On the top in the middle of an iron arch was a faded and rusting sign that had a fluffy and blue cat in a construction hat giving a wave in one paw and holding a sledgehammer over his shoulder in the other. She could barely make out the words 'Morph's Landing Construction and Supply. Octan's only approved construction contractor'. The iron arch made Kit feel like she could get tetanus just by looking at it wrong, but there was something intricate and beautiful about its construction despite this.
"Alright. Let's do this." Kit took a mitten out of her bag, put it on, and pushed the ironwork door. She headed for a nondescript gray brick building, walls covered in English ivy and its dingy windows miraculously managing to bathe the wild, weed infested grass under them in a blue light.
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tweed-tune-on-friday · 1 year ago
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OK huge ‼️disclaimer ‼️ don’t be a$$hole this is a head cannon do not send me hate because of this head canon or 
Even comment  I don’t see piranha as trans ok I didn’t ask not to be rude, but those types of comments are annoying. Also massive ⚠️TW⚠️ for transphobia/dysphoria alsoI’m sorry if I don’t makes sense. There will be a lot of typos so I apologize for that.
Also, piranha can be read as a transmasc
This was made by me ☺️
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#1: Piranha use to hate wearing dresses
#2: before his transition, he definitely felt heavy dysphoria around his brothers and the bad guys 
#3: he was definitely gender envious he hated the way his voice sounded
#4: because of his height, piranha was often picked on at school, and got in to fights most often [yes I hc that he went to school  and after graduating he got into the family business oh, and an animal fact, piranhas are one of the many intelligent fish out there in the Amazon ]
#5: piranha was closeted because his father didn’t approve
#6: his family mostly his brothers picked on him for his height and gave him the nickname little Pepe which he actually turned into his legal name 
#7: he betrayed his brothers and left the piranha brother gang to join the bad guys
#8: the only reason the tdg gang found out piranha was trans was when wolf caught him using medical bandages to cover his chest [because at the time piranha didn’t have a binder]
#9: the bad guys were super supportive
Ok little angst⚠️TW⚠️ For gender dysphoria, and unsafe binding and before you asked, where are the other bad guys they all went shopping wolf didn’t want to go I know that’s out of character for him, but he just didn’t wanna go Also piranha didn’t wanna go either in second sorry if there’s a lot of typos I’m not good at handwriting. Also the original post had comments section turned off so sorry about that and I also wanna apologize for the shitty writing. I’m not good at it. 
Piranha sat in the bathroom looking at his reflection, looking at the carefully wrapped bandages around his chest he knew this was wrong. He knew he couldn’t keep these on forever, he always felt a sharp pain in his chest. Every time he kept these on for at least an hour. He have been doing this for a week  there was no point in stopping now besides, It made him feel good about his body it didn’t make him feel bad piranha was so fixated on his reflection that he didn’t notice somebody knocking on the door, And then it opened
piranhas trance was broken when he heard a loud yelp in the doorway piranha quickly covered his chest so nobody would see the bandages it was Wolf oh, my God piranha I didn’t mean to Bargin on you I didn’t think anybody was in the bathroom wolf I thought you went with the others said wall, covering his eyes and stumbling back rambling endless apologies trying to find and close the door but through the cracks of his fingers, he could barely make out the bandages on piranhas his chest and when  wolf was halfway out, of the doorway piranha quickly slammed the door in his face and locked it, causing wolf to stumble back in the fall in the process làrgate piranha shout it from the other side of the door.
Shit was all piranha could think  as he actually sat on the bathroom floor he prayed that wolf didn’t see or look down on his chest know he couldn’t had he covered his chest plus wolf’s eyes were covered his by his own hand he he couldn’t have seen the bandages piranha reassured himself as he sat on the floor, getting ready to have a full-blown panic attack but once again,
wolfs voice broke him out of his trance. Piranha look I’m sorry for barging in, and I’m sorry for looking, but where those bandages wolf’s voice sounded more concerned and calm but those were the words piranha was dreading to hear no piranha stammer all of a sudden a small fart came from piranha sorry mumbled softly, piranha I know when you’re lying. Wolf said you fart when you lie no piranha said I I fart when I’m nervous. Yeah, nervous about lying. Wolf responded I don-before piranha could finish his sentence. The small fart that happen seconds ago turned into a large gurgle piranha clench to stomach and said sorry before a huge cloud of green fog filled the bathroom
As a loud fart irrupt it from the bathroom and wolf quickly covered his mouth and nose, while inside the bathroom piranha did the same piranha tried fanning through the fog, but that didn’t work,He have no choice but to open the door piranha cough at the terrible smell. Maybe he shouldn’t had eaten that leftover burritos last night but he couldn’t help it. Burritos were one of his favorite foods as he stammered the door and fumbled with the locks for a few minutes before finally managing to get the door open, the door opened the the fog proceeded to evaporate to the fresh air around it wolf coughed as the fog hit his face wolf fan away the remaining fog  piranha stepped out of the bathroom still coughing until he made it into the doorway
As the last of the green frog disappeared, Wolf could see piranha more clearly now just as he suspected piranha just was neatly wrapped in bandages piranha wolf sad  his voice still keeping that calm and caring tone look I’m not mad, but before wolf could finish his sentence piranha, cut him off I know it’s wrong OK I know I shouldn’t be doing it but it makes me feel better about my body Chico. It makes me feel comfortable in my skin and I don’t need you criticizing me for that you don’t know how it piranhas his eyes began to tear up but before piranha continue his rambling he suddenly felt the soft touch of a paw, rubbing on his forehead.
Piranha looked up to see wolf gently stroking his head  piranha, calm down can we just talk please piranha stirred up at Wolf with widen eyes  this was the first time somebody actually cared about him or wasn’t trying to pick a fight with him or make fun of him.  wolf look down at the at the second tiniest member of the bad guys wolf let out a sigh now look I’m not going to touch you if you’re not comfortable, but you need to take off those bandages I know piranha quietly mumbled do you have a shirt that you could put on I think I do put piranha spoke up all right you take off those bandages and i well go get the shirt all right piranha nodded in agreement piranha turned around and made his way back to the bathroom,
As wolf began to make his way to piranhas room when wolf reach the door, opened it wolf stepped in, and quickly took into his surroundings piranhas room was somewhat of a mess, a few dirty clothes, here, and there, but nothing too bad wolf scan the room, and his eyes fell upon the dresser who walked towards it, and started looking through the drawers. It didn’t take long for to wolf find a shirt. It was just a a regular black shirt with Spanish cuss words on it but didn’t matter, though who quickly exited piranhas room, closing the door behind him and made his way back to the bathroom by the time wolf was in front of the bathroom, piranha had already taken off the bandages knocked on the door piranha I got the shirt ok the bandages are off. Thank you wolf heard a click before the bathroom door was unlocked in piranha quickly grab the shirt. 
To make a long story short, wolf excepted piranha and they told the other bad guys seven months later piranha end up having top surgery, this is where I’m going to end the little angst off. And you know what I might actually write a story on how I think the bad guys got together with this pacific head cannon for Mr. piranha and listen I know a lot of people love, trans Mr. piranha piranha can also be read as transfem because of the whole scene where he says
“I want to go on the girl trip”
So yeah but this is my new messages 
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Mr Piranha from The Bad Guys is a trans man!!
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transpoettryinghisbest · 2 years ago
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(this is based on the headcannon I've seen around about Desiree and Matt being siblings. It's set between 2-4 and 3-2. Trigger warnings are in the tags.)
“You've got a letter,” I say, handing it to her.
“Who still writes letters?”
“I don't know, I didn't read it. I wouldn't read your things.”
“No, I know. It's okay.”
She opens it. I catch a glimpse of the handwriting filling most of a single sheet of paper, but I can't see what it says. Her eyes quickly flick to the bottom of the page and her expression shifts.
“What's wrong?” I ask.
She puts the paper down. “It's from Matt.”
“Your brother?”
“What does he want? And why now? I haven't spoken to him in years.”
“You won't know unless you read it.”
She hesitates. “I don't know if I want to. It might be bad news.”
“It might not be.”
She says nothing.
“Do you want me to read it?”
“I want to throw it away, in all honesty.”
She doesn't. She reads the whole thing. I try to watch her expression, but it pretty much stays the same the whole time. When she's finished, she lays it down again with a sigh.
“He's in jail.”
“Really?”
“That's what he says. He won't say why, only that he messed up. And he wants me to visit him.”
“Are you okay?”
“I don't know.”
I reach out and take her hand. She holds on tight.
“I don't know what he's done. I don't think I want to know. I know my brother isn't evil, but…he never thinks of anyone but himself. I should've known he'd end up in trouble.”
“Are you going to see him?”
“No.”
“Really? I mean, it's your choice, but I think you should at least… No, maybe it's not a good idea… I don't know…”
“Look at this.” She spins the paper around and pushes it towards me. “Does he mention either of us anywhere in this? Does he ask how we're doing?”
I scan it. The whole thing is kind of vague, it just outlines the fact that a whole court ganged up on him and put him away and now everyone he knows is mad at him.
“No, he doesn't.”
“He never cared about me. When I left home, he never made any attempt to stay in contact. So I don't need him.”
She crumples the paper and puts it in the trash.
*
I don't know why I'm here. I guess I thought that Desiree would change her mind, but she doesn't. She moves on like nothing has happened. It's been three days since the letter arrived, and I can't take my curiosity anymore.
I'm shaking. I've met Matt before, only once, but I don't know if I should expect anything different now. He was just a typical bratty younger brother. That was how Desiree described him, and I saw what she meant. He didn't really ask me about myself or seem interested at all.
I reach his cell and he's slumped in the corner.
“Um…hi?”
He doesn't hear me.
“Hello? Matt?”
He finally looks up and frowns in confusion.
“Like, what do you want?”
“Um…I got your letter. I mean…Dessie got your letter. She didn't want to come. But I'm here.”
Recognition clicks in his mind and he laughs.
“Oh, it's you. Desiree's boyfriend.”
“Husband. Yes.”
“So she didn't feel like dropping by on her poor brother?”
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Uh, I don’t know. Curiosity I think? I mean, I know we haven't seen each other in a long time, so I just thought…”
“You don’t feel sorry for me?”
“Uh, kind of? I don’t really know what happened, your letter didn't say what you did.”
“Oh I get it. She sent you out to get the scope on me.”
“Scope?”
“To see if I’m really worth her time.”
“No-”
“Or maybe she needs a big strong man to protect her from me. Is that what you are?”
“I don’t…know.”
“What’s wrong?” he gets really close to the glass and I catch a glimpse of scars hidden under his fringe. “Scared I’ll bite?”
I don’t say anything, and he backs away again, laughing at me.
“You’re exactly Desiree’s type. A pushover.”
“Am I? I-I mean, no. She doesn’t know I’m here.”
“Oh. Well don’t blame me if this breaks you up. I can’t control where you go. I can’t even control where I go.”
“What did you do, Matt? Why…are you here?”
“Do you really want to know?”
Anxiety spikes within me and I change my mind quickly.
“No.”
“No. You don’t want to know about my life. All you want to know is what I want with you and your precious wife. But it’s got nothing to do with you, dude. This is family stuff. And if she doesn’t want to come, then I guess I’m just gonna have to die here alone.”
The door busts open. It’s Desiree.
“I knew you’d be here.”
“I’m sorry,” I jump out of my seat. “I’m sorry, Dessie. I should’ve told you, but I was worried you’d talk me out of it. I hope I didn't make you stress out or anything. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay, hun. I was just worried about what he was saying to you.”
“Finally she shows up,” Matt says.
“I didn't come here for you,” she snaps back. “Are you okay, Ronnie?”
I nod. “I think so.”
“I should’ve warned you. Matt has…a way of getting into people’s heads. Just don’t listen to him.”
“Oh sure, just ignore me like you have for the last few years.”
“You were the one ignoring me,” she says. “I just realised that it wasn't worth fighting for your time anymore. So I focussed on the people who really care about me.”
He scoffs.
“He won't tell me anything,” I say. “He said it's family stuff.”
“That's not my problem. Whatever you've done, Matt, you can take it up with someone else. I don't care anymore.”
“Seriously? You're seriously gonna leave me here? You don't even want to know-”
“No. I don't.” She takes my hand. “We're leaving, honey.”
“Okay.”
“Fine,” Matt spits. “Leave me here on my own to rot.”
Desiree ignores him.
“And I hope you're happy being a fake woman with your fake husband.”
I'm not sure what happens next. I think something snaps in me. Because the next thing I know is my knuckles are hurting. Matt yelps and backs away from me.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I…I'm sorry.” Tears start running down my face and I don't know why. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry.”
Desiree takes my hand gently into hers and inspects my knuckles. “Are you okay? You didn't break anything did you?”
“I don't think so. Dessie, I…”
“It's okay, sweetie, it's alright.” She kisses my forehead. “I'm not mad. And I won't let you get in any trouble, okay?”
I nod, wiping my eyes with my free hand.
Desiree holds my non-injured hand as we walk home mostly in silence. I try not to think that she's mad at me. She must be going through a lot. But who I was back there really scared me, I've never had something come over me so strongly like that. I can still feel my knuckles throbbing.
Eventually, I break the silence.
“Does he really think you're a fake woman?”
“He was just trying to hurt me. Matt never cared either way when I came out.”
“Really?”
“He only cares about himself. Me becoming a woman doesn't affect him, especially since we barely talk.” She looks at me. “I'm sorry if he hurt your feelings, hun.”
“It's okay, I'm kind of used to it. But I don't like when people insult you. It makes me mad.”
“I know. You're a real sweetheart.” She stops walking to kiss my cheek. “But I can handle myself, don't worry. And I don't want you hurting yourself.”
“I'm sorry.”
“It's okay. I know you mean well.”
“He called me a pushover. I told him that I wasn't there on your behalf but I don't think he believed me.”
“Don't listen to him, hun.”
“He made out like I only ever do what you say.” I hesitate. “Can…you say something I disagree with? Just so I can prove that I don't go along with everything you say?”
“Babe, you don't have to prove anything to me.”
“I know. I wanna prove it to myself.”
She thinks for a second.
“Maybe our marriage won't work out.”
“What?”
“Because you think I'm ugly.”
“No! No, you're the most beautiful woman in the world and I love you.”
Her face breaks into a grin and I realise that she was messing with me.
“I love you too,” she says. “Can we get Chinese food tonight?”
“Okay.”
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thestarsoutofyourwindow · 4 years ago
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To Survive this Pain, Part 1 - 11th Doctor x Reader
A/n: I'm not dead, I promise! I've just been struggling to finish off fics. If this seems slightly rushed it's because I just needed to finish something. It's exam season (it's extra-long now due to a certain virus), but they're over in a few weeks. I've been trying to stretch into writing for different Doctors, and in my new formats, but good old Eleven is easiest to write. Inbox is still open :)
Word Count: 2596
Summary: After the "death" of Amy and Rory, the Doctor is devastated. After deciding to isolate himself on a cloud, he leaves you with the Paternoster Gang till Strax informs you the Doctor wants to see you.
Warnings: Angst, Cold Doctor, Doctor is slightly ooc due to guilt, mild self-inflicted Injury, Bouts of Rage.
I should try to post part two as soon as possible.
This is my first ever Full Story (GIF isn't mine).
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Your shoes splashed through puddles on the cobblestone road, on your way down to the park of which you knew he would be.
You hadn't heard from him in a short while now, but Jenny and Vastra frequently advising you to pay him a visit had been getting to you. That's why, when Strax brought you the news that the Doctor wanted to see you, you leapt at the opportunity.
You were worried, you'll admit. It was clear as day that losing Amy and Rory had him tearing himself to pieces. It was only a matter of time before he sent you off, too. Before he abandoned you.
Weaving around the quiet Victorian streets, the sun still yet to grace the sky, you had arrived at the park. Looking around the odd trees that decorated the perimeter, you picked out the tree that you knew had the elusive ladder directly above it. You stepped over the beds of wilting flowers that lined the pathways into the overgrown grass.
After completing the feat of reaching the ladders, consisting of either jumping or using your umbrella handle, you had successfully pulled the ladder down far enough to climb onto.
Making your way up the ice-cold rungs, you take a moment to consider why the Doctor called for you in the first place.
It made little sense to you. After all, the Doctor had been avoiding you for the better part of two months now; what had changed?
The Doctor planning on taking you home became all the more likely in your mind as you began to climb the spiral staircase, shivering as the late-autumn air nipped at your skin. Winter was slowly breaking through the remaining life.
If you weren't so hung up on adjusting to the less-than-ideal state of Victorian England, you would've had more time to worry about the Doctor. However, he was so hung up with his own issues, and you with yours, that he only crossed your mind when you were settling down for the night.
Of course, it hurt that you too. Never seeing Amy and Rory again. You did your best to hold onto the fact that they lived a happy life together.
A life that you knew could never have. You wish you could say goodbye to them, but you chose to carry the loss with you.
You were exhausted, it was safe to say. Spending your days helping out the Paternoster Gang with new cases that come in was certainly frustrating, especially when you had to avoid so much. Milk, green dyes, dodgy stairs, aliens and gas leaks. Nothing was safe in Victorian times.
Not that you didn't enjoy the company, mind you. Jenny always provided conversation, and paired with Vastra, there were plenty of investigations to be had. You just missed them all, sometimes.
The Doctor had become such a vital figure in your life that it didn't seem right for him to not be there. When you had both lost Donna, you were there for each other, and even then, he was a wreck. You had spent those first two months together, and you had never felt closer to someone before. At first, you couldn't admit it to yourself, but after six years, you knew that was when you started falling for him.
There was so much you didn't understand about him, yet so much he had begun to explain. You had seen and done so much together, places that surprised and scared the both of you. In distant worlds and ancient times, there lay so many memories that you had forgotten. Just another thing consumed by time.
A simple flip through your diaries would confirm that through all that, you admired him: mattering not which of his faces. You had accepted from the start that he was an unobtainable desire, no matter how you looked at it.
He was old, alien and a danger-magnet. Many considered the Doctor to be a God.
It upset you to know that the Doctor could never love you, not in the way you love him. Not in the way that he had shown you what love could be, what it should be. But that was what you had to expect from the Doctor.
You assumed that consistently losing those he loved must hurt immensely. You also imagine losing someone he could spend the rest of his lives with would leave another unfixable hole in his heart.
So it made sense to you that the Doctor would never willingly fall for a human. Your short life-spans and weak bodies meant that so much as a single bullet could rob you of your life.
The thought of what a state he must've been in at that very moment was disturbing, to say the least. You had seen the Doctor angry before, and it was not an easy sight.
His heart held so much pain, so much guilt.
After what felt like a good three minutes, you stepped off the staircase. Your shoes now emerged in a cloud, which could somehow keep you from plummeting into the streets below. You felt surprisingly light, almost like you were standing in a pit of feathers, yet some odd force kept you from losing your balance. Plucking your key out of your pocket, you press your hand against the door of the TARDIS. You unlock the door, pulling the key from the lock and stepping into the Console room.
You called out for him. After listening for a moment, you concluded that the Doctor must've been elsewhere.
The TARDIS was a glum sight. Most of the orange lights were dimmed: if functioning at all. A few even had fist-holes in them. There were what looked like hundreds of books cluttering the console, all of varying topics: The Time War, Time Lord Psychology, the History of the Universe, Earth History, Greatest War Losses. Some had bookmarks; others he had clearly tabbed.
Paper littered the glass flooring, each scribbled in several handwritings. They all clearly varied in ages and sizes, some a muddy brown, others a vivid white. Quite a lot were in small clusters of pages, as though they were ripped from a book. You picked up one of the sheets to inspect closer, and your heart nearly broke.
Each page had a sort of date in the corner, which you quickly realised must've been an approximation of the Doctor's age at the time. They were diary entries, ripped out and thrown in what you assumed to be a fit of rage.
The Doctors' tweed jacket had slipped off the console and onto the floor. The contents of his pockets spilt out onto the floor.
You leant to pick it up, grimacing at just how much he was carrying around. Throwing the jacket over the railing, you avoided stepping on any more pieces of paper.
"Tidy some of this, will you?" You addressed the TARDIS, a hand on the edge of the controls, "I'll go talk to him, where is he?" The TARDIS clicked and hummed in response, showing you a blueprint on the monitor, "The Library? Okay then."
Darting out of the Console Room, you attempt to discover the library as soon as possible. You vaguely remembered the three places the library is most likely to crop up. You went from there. Fortunately for you, you didn't have to go far before the library appeared.
You had always felt as though the library was too empty. Four stories of shelves filled with books, all visible from the ground floor, the rows of shelves created a sort of maze of titles and colours. The Doctor must've owned every single book in the galaxy, judging by the sheer size. Not to mention the several dozen or so empty seats. The library could easily hold thousands of people at once, yet there is rarely ever so much as a whisper.
You had a fair clue as to why the Doctor would be hiding away in there.
There the Doctor was, turned away from the door, in an intricately decorated armchair. You could just about make out the top of his head. You loomed behind him awkwardly, unsure or not if he was aware of your presence.
"Doctor?" You faltered. His head perked up slightly, and the Doctor strained out a hum. He stood up, his arms tiredly hanging at his sides after he stretched. It checked out with your fit of rage theory. The Doctor walked up to you, and you only then noticed how fraught he was.
His expression was tired, eyes sunken and lips pressed into a thin line. His shirt was unkempt: the sleeves were torn slightly. It also appeared burnt or covered in dust. His hands were covered in dust too.
However, you noticed that his right hand had quite a few cuts and gashes, which all seeped out orange-tinted blood.
His greenish-brown eyes search yours for a moment as a tear rolls down his cheek. He inhales deeply, nodding to himself.
"Look, I..." The Doctor paused, again glancing over into your eyes, "I'm sorry- I can't, I can't do this," He took in a trembling gasp for air, "I don't want to, but I can't keep doing this. I'm sick of it. I can't keep losing people. I'm so sick of saving the universe." Unsure of what to you, you reach a hand out to the Doctors. He puts a hand on top of yours, keeping the other, bloodier fist at his side. You brush your thumb over his knuckles, his hand hot against yours. The Doctor continues, "Everyone, everyone who travels with me leaves, or dies, and I'm always alone again. Alone and in pain. I can't keep doing this..."
Smiling sadly, you nod, "I understand," You looked back up at the Doctor, "If you called me here to convince me to go home-"
"Take you home?" The Doctor's voice cracked, "I could never. That'd be just as bad as losing you. I need you."
Oh, the Doctor have his way of making you feel important at the worst moments. Your insides bubbled giddily, but you refused to show it. Instead, you ignored it to the best of your ability; what he was saying was important.
Your attention had fallen back down to his hand, and it looked considerably worse than you initially thought. Pieces of glass dug into his knuckles, the skin seeming gnarled by the force of the oncoming storm, "Doctor, your hand,"
"It's fine." The Doctor seethed, staring numbly at you, "I'm not human, it's not going to kill me."
You wanted to protest. However, given the Doctor's already fragile temperament, you weren't going to push it. Instead, after an instant of silence, you asked a simple question, "How have you been, then?"
The Doctor blinked, giving an answer careful thought. He had an earnest grimace as he finally spoke, "Furious."
"I can see, that" You hum, putting equal thought into how you should approach your response, "What do you think you're going to do, now?"
"Stay here. I'm not getting involved anymore." The Doctor spat, pulling his hand away from yours, turning to sit down, "I don't want to care."
"That's fair enough." You reassure. You didn't like the sound of the Doctor retiring too much, but you respected his choice. If he didn't want to save the world, he doesn't have to. You hoped that, in his chosen conditions, he would heal.
You vowed to yourself at that moment that you'd do everything you could to help him. Starting with his physical injuries.
You heard the armchair squeak softly as the Doctor flopped back against it, picking up a book from the coffee table and beginning to read. You headed back over to the door and grabbed the small medkit from the bracket on the wall. You paced back to the Doctor, pulling a pouffe from a few feet away to sit on. The Doctor glared daggers at you, exhaling sharply and holding his arm out in your general direction. You thanked him meekly, beginning to remove the sharp, reinforced glass shards from his knuckles.
If you were new to travelling with the Doctor, you thought that seeing this might hurt you more. However, six years of travelling was more than enough for the two of you to be used to this sort of treatment. He never seemed to care much about his physical health, more about yours. That often ended up in you worrying about the Doctor, not that you minded. You supposed it worked out, as you both fussed over each other. If the Doctor's previous face saw how he was acting, you were sure he'd have a fit. Not that he mattered, as he was still a part of the man in front of you.
You could tell by the downtrodden way he pretended to read his book, staring a hole through it, that something was bothering him.
"Are you scared of me?" The Doctor halted, voice brittle. He had taken note of how delicate you were and had drawn it up to a fear that the Doctor would lash out at you.
"No," You shushed, focusing on removing the glass from his hands.
"You don't sound sure,"
"I am." You reassured bluntly, "I'm just being careful. I don't want to hurt you more."
"I'm not hurt! You don't need to fuss over me,"
You lifted your eyebrows slightly, "There's nothing wrong with feeling, Doctor. As you said yourself, feelings enhance life." The Doctor exhaled petulantly, eyes back on his book. "But not even you can be in pain forever."
"What is my alternative?" The Doctor strangled out, "I forget? I do something selfish?"
You grimace as you remove the last small shard from his pinky. You take out a clean cloth and some water, dampening the rag as you speak, "You're forced to survive this pain, this guilt, but you will grow from it. You make mistakes so that you learn from them."
You gently clear the blood from his hands and start to apply mild pressure to the deeper wounds. The two of you continued in silence, the Doctor only occasionally removing his hand to turn the page.
He was such a different person to the goofball front you were used to. He was melancholic. However, you would see a small amount of your Doctor bubbling to the surface. He would occasionally chuckle at the book he was reading or draw circles on your palm as you held his hand still. It provided you with enough comfort to know that you weren't wasting your time.
You finished up your last-minute medical care with a bandage around his hand. You closed the medkit.
"Alright, I'm just going to go restock this, then I'll go tidy up the paper in the console room,"
"Oh- right that... Must've been a mess. I'm sorry,"
"It's okay." You smiled pleasantly, "Come find me if you need me, okay? I won't be far,"
The Doctor caught your hand in his, just as you were about to leave, he tugged at your arm. You leant down, and the Doctor pressed a short kiss to your cheek. You countered with a kiss of your own on the middle of his forehead. Just like you used to, back with his previous incarnation.
As you wandered off, you were oblivious as to what that gesture meant. Was it a thank you? Another apology? Was it even platonic?
From behind you, you swore that he said something you thought you'd never hear the Doctor say.
203 notes · View notes
bimsha · 3 years ago
Text
All of Our Stars (Sano Manjiro x Reader)
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"You're on the other side
As the skyline splits in two
Miles away from seeing you"
Song - All of Our Stars by Ed Sheeran
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“And you all have to read the next pages…” The voice of your teacher droned in the background as he repeated the homework for which it felt like the trillionth time after starting the period. Your eyes wandered aimlessly along the Sakura trees which were bare against the melancholic nature surrounding them. Winter break was close at hand, nature was getting ready to welcome the coldness.
You collected your things as the bell rang snapping you off from your daydream. Students rushed out of the classroom, grateful that another exhausting school day was over. Everyone was getting ready for the upcoming exams which were close at hand. You didn’t care much about them. You’re a third year middle school student and everyone in the class was already choosing high schools while you knew you wouldn’t be able to choose yourself. It’s already chosen. You’re moving with your parents to America next year. Your mind was occupied with different thoughts as you took the stairs, finding your way through the crowd of students heading home.
Your eyes wandered to the gate when you noticed him standing there as usual, but he was in his casual attire, not the school uniform. “Skipped school today?” You asked, walking to Mikey. It had been a whole year since you two started dating. It was almost as if when you two are together, time accelerates. You could recall every precious memory like a vivid polaroid. Your first Christmas together, the games at the arcade, and the things you went through when the world of delinquents suddenly crashed into your safe bubble of love. It was beautiful. Every scar, every memory was beautiful.
He stood up straight, no welcoming smile. “You didn’t tell me, Y/n, Why?”
Your smile faded, he knew. You averted your gaze to the ground, absentmindedly poking the sole of your shoe against the ground. “I found out a couple of days ago. It was a sudden decision” You sighed, “So they say”
Mikey stared at you for a moment, “Y/n, what do you want to do?”
You shook your head. That was the question you had in your mind for days. What do you want to do? You didn’t have any idea whether long distance relationships actually worked. Sure, you could visit when it’s a holiday but what about the rest of the days? “C’mon” Mikey took your wrist, guiding you out of the school. You two walked in silence as he slipped his hand to yours, entangling your fingers. A small sign of reassurance. Mikey was good at subtle affectionate gestures. That’s how he loved you, subtle, but affectionate.
“Y/n” He rubbed his thumb across your skin, his eyes looking at the fallen leaves making a thick carpet of red and orange under your feet. “I don’t want to end this”
You smiled, it was obvious, neither did you. “Same here.”
He seemed to consider this for a moment. “We could try long distance.”
“I know…” Your voice trailed off, “But Mikey, what if you-” You stopped, the question was obvious. What if you find someone else? Someone better? You shook your head, “I don’t know”
Mikey tipped his head backwards, looking at the blue sky, heavily covered with clouds. It would be a matter of weeks till snow starts to cover the streets. “I had the same thoughts.” He admitted, turning to you. Both of your fears were valid. Human hearts are fragile and needy. You didn’t know what the future held. “But” He started, “Then I thought of something else. Come, there’s something I have to show you.”
Suddenly, both of you were running across the streets, passing people who were busy with their phones and groceries. Cold wind brushed against your cheeks as you two dashed past annoyed people groaning about youngsters'' manners these days. You didn’t even know the destination until you both stopped in front of a wall filled with graffiti. You knew the place well. Mikey and you came here for your first date. Your eyes instantly reached the bottom corner where Mikey’s messy handwriting was. Written in black ink, contrasting against the patch of white was just one line:
“All of these stars will guide us home”
It was an inside joke between you two. A comfort song of sorts. “Remember here?” Mikey crouched down, his hands softly running over the words. Just underneath his messy writing was your own neat handwriting.
For you and me, and for a future with us together.
Just the first date, but both of you had high hopes for each other. It was rather naive to hope for a future when it had been mere days with you two together. It was precious nonetheless. “You screamed at me that day. Called me out on vandalizing the walls.” He smiled, reaching out a hand to you. You took it and sat down beside him, leaning against the wall, icy cold but holding a vague sense of comfort. This was the first place you two planted an icon of your love together.
“Then five minutes later, I was vandalizing the wall myself” You finished. “You’re such a bad influence, Mikey”
Mikey raised his brow, “I think you’re the bad influence, Y/n. I didn’t beat the crap out of guys with only my shoes.”
You huffed, offended. “First, they were trying to harass me. Second, my heels were the only good weapon I had in my hand. Third, those guys were crap at fighting.”
Mikey shook his head with a laugh, “When I came to the scene, it was all over. I wanted to play the knight who saved the princess, but you didn’t let me.”
You nudged his ribs, “You played the knight several times, Mikey.”
He turned to you. You breath catching against your throat as he reaches for your hair, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. You could feel his breath against your cheek as he held you in his arms, clutching to you as if you were his lifeline. You didn’t blame him. He lost so many people in his life, you knew how much he loved the people around him. Toman wasn’t his treasure. The people in the gang were his treasure. “Where to, next?” You asked, your voice muffled against his black jacket.
He pushed away, “To a certain street sweet shop”
Ah right, you thought as he started walking towards the busy streets of Shibuya. Both of you looked around, taking in the busy lifestyles around you. There was that feeling again, you were detached from the world when you’re with him. It was just him and you, and your hands brushing together as you walked by. You’re going to miss this. You stopped in front of the shop. The pleasant aroma of different types of street food caught your nose. Your mouth waters at the smell. This was the best shop.
Taiyaki sizzled loudly on pains, turning into a golden colour. Mikey’s eyes were firmly planted on them as he ordered two fish shaped cakes, handing one to you. “I will never get sick of this” He spoke through a mouthful of his own.
You kicked his shin playfully, biting into your own. The soft cake melts inside your mouth. “Of course you aren't going to. You stole mine one day!”
Ironically, it wouldn’t be wrong if someone said Taiyaki brought you two together. You two met at this shop. He with his delinquent friends crowded around him, you with your school squad with you. It was a summer evening and there was only one Taiyaki left. You ordered first, but he being the spoiled brat, took it from the man, dropped some coins and dashed out of the shop. You would’ve let it go, but it was your Taiyaki. You dashed after him, ignoring the cries of your friends and the grins of his friends. You chased him down to the river bank where he stood, chomping down on the Taiyaki like a madman.
“I took it first and I paid for it.” He countered, snapping off your thoughts. “I own it, Y/n. I’m no stealer”
“No” You find yourself childishly arguing back, “I ordered it first. You stole it.”
“It’s not stealing when you pay for it.”
“And how are you coming to that conclusion?” You chomped down on your own Taiyaki furiously, getting drowned in crumbs as the crispy sweet crunched at your harsh actions.
“It’s a thing because I say so” Mikey grinned with satisfaction at his argument.
You frowned but kept chewing harshly, as if to offend him. It was a thing with Mikey, you can be childish and at the next moment you could act like mature adults. “You look like you want to bite my face off” He commented, finishing off his and dropping the paper slip into the trash bin.
“I’m afraid I would '' You countered, imitating his actions and looking dusting your hands. The crumbs fell to the floor.
“You’re a messy eater, Y/n” He said, reaching his hands and wiping the corner of your cheek, your eyes lingering against each other for a second longer. “Usually I’m the messy one. Good to have a change of roles” He dropped a kiss on your hair, nuzzling his nose on your head.
“You lovebirds are blocking the door!" the shop owner yelled. But the smile on his face was inevitable. They were regulars at his shop and he had seen both of them grow into lovers from rivals to friends.
“Sorry!” Mikey called out with a slight wave as they both exited the shop. It was like a walk down memory lane. From one thing to another. Shibuya was your love story. Everywhere were scattered memories of your love. “Remember that bench?” Mikey said, gesturing towards a metal bench under a bare Sakura tree.
“We shared my lunch together under that tree” You said, tilting your head as a slight flush reached your cheeks.
Mikey grinned, “You accidentally came to school on a Saturday.”
“Shut it” You huffed, marching to the opposite lane. You knew where you would end up if you just continued to walk. It was another place you made memories. The place you made most of your memories. Mikey skipped a few steps before reaching you.
The river bank was colder than you expected it to be. The wind rushed through your hair as you breathed in the cold air around you. Mikey sat down, patting the grass beside him for you to sit. You slid to the ground and drew your knees to your chest, looking out at the water, overlapping with waves in a soundless muttering. This is where you two came when you needed to talk. The time didn’t matter. You two had midnight talks with each other spilling the insecurities. Somedays, it was just to stay in silence. Nevertheless, this was your happy place. It was the same from all the dangers or reality. A place lost in time.
“Shibuya is going to be a nightmare after you leave” Mikey was laying on the grass, a hand dropped behind his head as he stared into nothingness. “Everywhere I go, it’s memories of you and me. Tiny specks of moments we shared.”
You hummed, “America is going to be even lonelier. No memories. Everything is going to be new and foriegn. Even the people. I’m kinda scared, maybe even terrified, Mikey”
He turned your head and stared at you, “I don’t want to break up, Y/n.”
It was getting dark, you noticed. The sun had already set through the horizons. The stars, one by one came into view, sliding away the darkness with a speck of comfort. The lamp posts on the streets glowed in a healthy yellow breaking through the black night. “Even if we’re going to be away, we’ll be staring at the same sky, watching the same stars each night.” You were talking nonsense, but you did not want to stop. “Mikey, let’s try. I don’t want to let you go either.”
His lips quirked upwards into a soft smile, “Yeah, we should try. You can always come home to me, Y/n. If things get tough out there, you always have a place right here” He said, tapping his finger against his heart. “Don’t be scared. Just be the badass girl you are, they’re going to be terrified”
You let out a surprised laugh, “Terrified enough to send me back home?”
He shrugged, “Worth a try” There was that, his childish tone you adore. You loved him for the man he is. The childish yet mature person. The one you can confide all your secrets to. The one who holds out his hand for you when things get tough. There was no way to let go. You were committed, both of you were. That was love for you. He sat down and turned to you. His dark eyes are watching you intently. “Call me?”
“Every night, I promise” You assured, taking his hands. “Wait for me, Mikey. I’ll be back. If you can wait-”
“I will wait.” He said, cutting you off. He drew closer to you, “There’s always a home with me for you. I promise”
You closed your eyes as you felt tears threatening against them. Love was a series of promises and words. It could be the simple moment you shared with him tonight under a sky filled with stars. For you, love was him and him alone. “I love you” your whispered words were carried by the wind into the night.
“I love you too, Y/n” He said, connecting your lips. Your lips danced together as he pulled you close. The world didn’t matter. His warm hold, cocooning you in mattered more. Your arms held him tightly, lips exploring each other’s warmth and comfort. When you pushed away he pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m going to miss this. I’m going to miss you, Y/n”
You nodded, unable to form words. You’re going to miss this. You’re going to miss him. Your universe. Your guidance to your place called home.
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"But I can see the stars from America
I wonder, do you see them too?"
76 notes · View notes
moral-turpitudes · 4 years ago
Text
Little White Lies:
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Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts
Trigger Warnings: Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Unsupportive/Jealous Family Members, Fighting, Swearing, Fluff, etc.
Word Count: 4,266
Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader 
Requested: Yes
Requested by: Anon, you can find it here. (this was such a fun request, I hope I did it justice lol)
Summary: From dealing with unsupportive and envious family members, to being caught in a lie, Y/N is forced to face her family and confront her feelings about her boss, all thanks to a wedding invitation.
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“What do you mean you’re working as a secretary? I put in a perfectly good recommendation for you last month at the hospital!” Y/N’s father yelled as she made her way into the living room of her parents house. The old walls poorly concealing their loud arguing.
“Did you stop and think about how maybe I don’t want to follow in you and Margaret’s footsteps? I thought you’d at least be happy I’ve found something I like! But no, it’s not good enough for you aye? Nothing I do ever is...” Y/N yelled back, crossing her arms over her chest.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his eyes boring into hers.
“Let’s face it, you and mum both like Margaret better because she has a “respectable job” as a doctor just like you. You pushed her off to the best schools, and only approve of her boyfriend because he’s a classy businessman.” She said lighting a cigarette.
“See? You’re already picking up bad habits Y/N. We just want the best for you.” Her mother said, plucking the cigarette out of her fingers and throwing it into the fireplace as her father looked to the ground with his arms folded.
“A secretary job is respectable. I keep the company from crashing down half the time.” She said.
“And what company is that? One where they shove you in a dark room to type papers all day?” Her mother scoffed back.
“Shelby Company Limited. It’s quite nice actually.” She said with a smirk.
“Isn’t that where the Peaky Blinders run the streets? I bet you’re dating one of them for christ’s sake!” Her father yelled, turning away from his daughter in disgust.
“What if I am?” She asked, balling her hands into fists at her sides.
“Who is it? I’ll get you transferred out in no time. No daughter of mine is working as a damn secretary in fucking Small Heath.” He said.
“Thomas Shelby.” She said, his name escaping her lips before she could think about what she’d done.
Her father tensed up at his name. His face paling in complexion as he sat down, his wife eyeing him with concern.
“The Thomas Shelby?” He asked, more quietly than before as if he was being watched.
“Mhmm. What is there a problem?” She asked, folding her arms over her chest.
“No...are you sure it’s him? He practically owns half of Birmingham. Although his reputation is not something I’m fond of...I guess if you legally work for him that’s...respectable.” He said, his tone softer and more accepting than earlier. 
“Right, so now that I’m dating an infamous businessman, I’m more respectable as a secretary? Why the sudden change? I’m doing quite well on my own with this job.” She said as she observed his rigid body language. He hesitated to speak, remembering when the two older Shelby’s came in half-alive after being shot up by a rival gang.
“Well, given his reputation and my practice, I may have had a few run-ins with him at the hospital. It’s common knowledge not to get in their way but I did. I made him and his bastard of an older brother stay a week to heal after saving their asses.” He said, an annoyed look on his face.
“He threatened your father Y/N. We couldn’t even tell the coppers. But...please don’t get too proud over your position there darling. Your words could come back to you and he could find someone else by sundown.” Her mother said with a nice tone, trying but failing to take the sting out of her words.
She’d always been jealous it seemed. Seeing her daughters getting to achieve things that she couldn’t. Being led to a life of homemaking and hosting parties for her wealthy doctor of a husband. They never amassed the wealth like the Shelby family had, but they were able to afford a decent sized house in London, if that was any indication of her family’s status.
After a long, tense silence, she decided to leave. Saying a quick and frustrated goodbye to her parents before heading back to Small Heath. Her heart racing at the realization that she just openly told her parents she was dating her boss. It wouldn’t be as much of a problem if it were true, but alas it was nothing but a white lie. She had always been quiet on the subject despite them getting along well. Polly could see a connection, which she’d mentioned to her over tea various times, but she always shrugged it off. And now she knew it was only a matter of time before she had to tell him the truth.
As a few weeks passed, she continued with her clerical duties. Filing papers and reporting things to Thomas as usual. Until she got a call from home once again, requesting her presence immediately.
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“Why do you all need me here anyway? I could be working right now.” Y/N said, impatiently tapping her foot on the lavish rug lining the hardwood floors of the living room.
“We wanted to give you this.” Her father said, flicking an envelope at her that she barely had time to catch.
The envelope was a light green color - her older sister Margaret’s favorite - with an intricately written invitation inside.
“Thomas Shelby and Y/N Y/L/N,
We cordially invite you to attend the union of Matthew Reynolds and Margaret Y/L/N. Formal attire will be expected at both the ceremony and reception.”
Her eyes grew wide at the invitation as she realized her parents must’ve told her sister about Thomas. Knowing nothing she did was ever kept private, unfortunately. But in that moment she knew she messed up, thinking about how she’d have to tell them it was all a lie. That she wasn’t dating the infamous gang leader. A feeling of panic and embarrassment washed over her as she realized the gravity of the situation.
“Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Her mother said.
“Y-yeah. Wasn’t expecting Margaret to invite me, let alone um...Thomas to her wedding. Are you all attending?” She asked nervously.
“Well of course! We can’t miss our best daughters wedding day.” Her mother said, not knowing how her words cut into Y/N.
“You’re loved as well. Your mother didn’t mean that. No one would dare disrespect a woman associated with Thomas Shelby. Right dear?” He said, hastily reassuring his daughter and looking at his wife with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh darling I didn’t mean it like that. We love both of you. I’m sorry...I’ll do better I promise.” She said giving her daughter a light hug.
“Please do. I’ll see you at the wedding.” Y/N said harshly, leaving the house in a hurry as she clutched the green envelope in her hand.
A week had passed since she’d set the invitation on her desk at work. The paper easily seen from anyone near her desk as not many envelopes were that color. It cost too much to make them given the financial troubles of the past few years, but of course her sister could afford it.
It was midnight though when Thomas walked by her desk out of habit, the lamp still on while Y/N had left for the night. The faint yellow glow illuminating the envelope as he raised an eyebrow at it. He quickly picked it up, reading the intricate handwriting on the letter inside as he noticed his name next to hers.
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The next morning, Y/N walked to her desk to see that the invitation was missing. Her stomach doing flips as she wondered where it had gone.
“Y/N, can I see you in my office?” Thomas said as he leaned against the doorframe, his tailored suit catching her off-guard for a moment as she glanced at the man her heart ached after. Polly giving her a questionable glance and a small, knowing smirk as she walked reluctantly into his office.
He knew. He knew about the letter and she was dumb enough to leave it there last night. Dumb enough to lie to her parents. Dumb enough to harbor any feelings for the man who certainly wouldn’t admit any himself.
“Y/N...” He said, his low voice ripping her from her racing thoughts as she stood by the door.
“Y-yeah sorry. Busy morning. What do you need Tommy?” She asked, nervously fiddling with her hands.
“I need to discuss something with you. Please sit.” He said, walking over to his plethora of whiskey glasses and filling two of them with the brown liquid he loved so much. If anything, he’d probably marry a bottle of whiskey if he could.
“What is it you want to discuss?” Y/N asked, sipping from her glass as it burned its way down her throat.
“I found this on your desk. I know it wasn’t my business to go taking things, but I couldn’t help but notice my name was mentioned with yours...so now...it is my business.” He said, observing how she grew uncomfortable under his gaze, drinking more as she shifted in her seat.
“It’s a long story.” She said blankly while setting the glass down, wanting to flee out the door never to come back.
“And for once I have the time.” He said leaning backing in his chair and lighting one of his many cigarettes.
Y/N sighed and relaxed back into her seat, her heart skipping a beat as she thought of the best way to explain it to him.
“Alright...so my family is a bit backwards as you know. And happen to just adore my older sister Margaret. They funded her schooling, attended her graduations and awards ceremonies, and they uh...like that she’s dating - I mean - engaged to a businessman now. He’s what they consider successful.”
“Successful aye? What...they don’t think some razor-gang from Birmingham is successful?” He asked.
“No.” She answered, looking out the window as she continued.
“Anyway, when I visited them, they started saying things about the company and how my job wasn’t respectable. I tried to shut them down but um, my father accused me of dating one of ya, like it was a disgrace to the family. So I panicked and said that I wasn’t dating just any of them, I was dating you.” She said, looking down at the nearly empty glass in her trembling hands.
“What’d he say to that aye?” He asked, a small smirk playing on his usually stoic face.
“Oh his whole demeanor changed. Looked like he’d seen a ghost. He um...said he knew of you. Said he treated you and Arthur for a week after a bad night on the job.” She said, nervous he’d go after her father.
“Aye I remember him. A bit mouthy that one.” He said.
“You threatened him though. Why?” She asked, her nervousness turning to a bit of anger at the thought of him harming her parents, even if they weren’t the best.
“They wanted to report it to the coppers. And as you know now, we don’t deal too kindly with snitches. So I had to threaten him. To keep the peace.” He said, blowing a cloud of smoke towards her.
“I wouldn’t say peace. Fear would be a better word.” She said, sipping the last of her whiskey.
“It’s worked out for me so far.” He said.
“Yes it has Tommy...but I have one question.” She said.
“Mhmm?”
“Are you wanting to go to this bullshit wedding or not?” She asked bluntly, hoping her interrogation would be over soon.
“That depends. Are you going? You don’t seem too fond of your family.” He said.
“I’m only going out of love.” She said.
“Well in that case, I am too.” He said, jotting down the address to the ceremony on his calendar with a star on the day, his heart racing despite his cold exterior. He’d harbored feelings for her too, and Polly could see it, often questioning him when Y/N would leave for the night, but he always blew her off due to peaky business.
“Wait...you actually want to go to such a horrid thing...with me?” She asked.
“And pass up a date with my favorite secretary? Wouldn’t dream of it.” He said, a small smirk hinting at his lips which seemed almost out-of-place.
“Date? Are you sure this isn’t some small business deal? You aren’t just agreeing for money or to pity me?” She asked.
“No Y/N...I’m agreeing because I like you. Always have...just never had the time to tell you till now. Now go back to your work before Polly gets even more suspicious.” He said, admitting his feelings like it was nothing as she stood there dumbfounded.
“R-right.” She said sheepishly as she made her way back to her desk, a small smile on her face as Polly watched her. Knowing something had finally gone down between them.
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A week into their newfound relationship, the day had finally come and Thomas escorted her inside the wedding chapel, her black dress complimenting his suit nicely. Her mother scoffing as she sat near her, wondering why the hell she’d wear a black dress to a wedding.
“You know black is for funerals...didn’t I teach you anything?” She asked quietly to where only Y/N could hear.
“I’m just marking the death of any peace that was left between this family. I know you both will start hounding me with questions in no time now that Margaret’s spoken for.” She said quietly, staring into her mother’s cold eyes. There’s always been a tension between them, but it seemed even a joyous occasion such as this couldn’t cut it.
“You alright love?” He asked, holding her hand in his as she stared blankly at the alter, waiting for the ceremony to start.
“It’s just my mother. She can’t put aside our differences for one fucking day.” She said quietly. Her mother leaning over to insert herself into the conversation.
“It’s nice meeting you Mr. Shelby. You’re more than welcome to sit with us at the reception.” Her mother said as she watched her daughter talk to the infamous blinder.
“Thank you Mrs. Y/L/N, we’d love to. Right Y/N?” He asked, squeezing her hand reassuringly.
“Love is one word for it I suppose.” She said, her jaw tensing as she saw her father approaching their seats.
“Glad to see you again Mr. Shelby, given this time it’s under better circumstances.” He said, shaking his hand firmly.
“Indeed it is Mr. Y/L/N.” He said, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and sticking it between his lips.
Her father soon resigned himself from the tense situation by sitting near his wife, who was eyeing the dashing blinder who smoked where he pleased.
“Can you believe she’s dating him? They look like they’ve only just started.” She whispered to her husband.
“If I have to accept him for professional reasons, you can accept him for our daughter. Enough with the snide remarks. Our lives might as well be at stake if he were to hear us...his threat still stands.” He said, knowing that his youngest daughter and her mother always had a tense relationship since her birth. It wasn’t particularly successful, only saving them in the knick of time from complications. Little did he know he was more so the heart of the family, albeit a dysfunctional one.
“They’re talking about me I know it.” Y/N said, fidgeting with her hands as they waited for the ceremony to begin. Margaret taking more than her sweet time getting ready.
“Let them talk then. It can only hurt you if you let it.” He said.
“Now, she better be dressed to the nines because this is the longest I’ve ever waited for a wedding ceremony.” He added, seeing a smirk forming on her face.
“Oh just you wait.” She said jokingly. The music catching everyone’s attention as they all looked on, and surely enough she was dressed to the nines, the whole tailoring industry probably coming together to complete the lavish gown.
“What is this the royal fucking wedding?” She asked, hearing him chuckle quietly under his breath.
As Margaret neared the altar with her father handing her off with a kiss on the cheek, she took a look at her fiancé and then turned toward Y/N, giving her a small smirk that made her stomach churn.
“What was that for?” Thomas whispered quietly, noticing the interaction.
“She’s rubbing salt in an old wound. She’s as bad as my mother.” She said, flicking her off silently. Thomas quickly placed his hand over hers to stop her from escalating the already tense situation. Her mother giving her a scolding look that she ignored, her blood boiling with the fact she was flaunting her status in front of her.
It seemed like forever before the vows ended, the tired crowd clapping and dispersing after the couple ran happily out the door of the church and to the nearby reception. With Y/N and Thomas lagging behind, not wanting to enter the horrendous venue.
“We can leave the reception early if you’d like. Maybe go somewhere more entertaining.” He suggested as they watched the couple parade around the room. Her sister quickly bringing her husband over to where they were standing.
“Y/N, love I’m happy you made it! We were scared you weren’t going to show.” She said giving her younger sister a careful hug as not to disturb her dress.
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my sister...I can’t exactly avoid you forever.” She said a small smile on her lips.
“You never told me you snagged such a......man. Where did you two meet?” She asked, shaking Thomas’ hand as her husband did the same. Margaret wary of the cold stare he gave her and Matthew.
“At work.” Y/N said shortly, not appreciating her attitude.
“Look at that, my baby sister finally has a job. What is it? A teacher? a factory worker? a nurse perhaps?” Margaret asked.
“A secretary.” Y/N said, staring the bride down the best she could hoping her gaze could silence her before she made a show of it all.
“A secretary? Hmm. Well that’s good I guess. Just be careful though, those secretaries have to sleep their way to the top you know.” She said. Y/N’s face burning as she turned away from Thomas, wanting to run out and never look back.
Thomas cleared his throat and put his hand on the small of her back as she tensed her jaw, reluctantly turning back to her snake of a sister.
“How would you know? Is that how you got to your position?” She snapped back, the anger rising in her chest. She wished she could have captured her sisters expression in a photograph, her words finally cutting into her like she wanted.
“I assure you she isn’t doing anything of the sort. In fact, she’s an integral part of the company already. But if I were you I wouldn’t say too much else.” Thomas said, a dark tone to his voice as he kept a level head between the sibling rivalry that was happening by the second.
“Oh and who are you to threaten me? What’s this company you speak of? My parents never mentioned it.” She said, her husband whispering in her ear that they had to go. The poor man hated the situation just as much as Y/N.
“That was probably to protect you Margaret. You see...you’ve always been a bit reckless with new information. So I doubt you knew what father got himself into.” Y/N said.
“What are you talking about?” She asked, grabbing a glass of expensive champagne as the server walked by.
“He got in my way...and no one gets in Thomas Shelby’s way. It cost me some of my men. So, like I said, if I were you...I wouldn’t say much else.” He threatened again, her fiancé swallowing hard as he led his flustered wife away to mingle with the other guests.
“Why can’t you both get along?” Her father asked, walking over to the pair.
“I’ve done my part with both her and mum. But...I’m not staying where I’m not valued. I love you all but, we have to go. Send Margaret and Matthew our....warmest regards, yeah?” She asked taking Thomas’ hand and leading him out the door. Her father stood there with a tense look on his face, knowing his family had gotten themselves on bad terms with the Shelby’s once again.
With frantic footsteps she walked to the car, tears flooding down her face as she got in herself, not bothering to wait for him to open the door.
“You didn’t have to stick up for me, but thank you.” She said wiping her tears away as he started the car.
“Yeah.” He said, lighting a cigarette before taking off. He wasn’t much for accepting thanks, at least since the war.
“Are they like that all time?” He asked after a long pause.
“Mhmm. Now you see why I don’t see them unless I have to. They just remind me of everything I’m not.” She said, looking out the window at the evening sky.
“That I do. I’ll be sending them something later, don’t worry.” He said.
“What do you mean?” She asked, her stomach dropping as she pictured him killing her family.
“You’re not going to kill them are you?” She asked.
“No...they’re not worth my time. At least not now anyway. And besides...I wouldn’t want to hurt you more than they already have.” He said, blowing a cloud of smoke from his lips.
“Tommy look, I know my father got in your way on a mission and I know he made you stay longer than you wanted to...but you can’t blame him for doing his job. He was trying to help. He may not be the best, although he’s far nicer than my mother and sister, so if anything, please spare him at least. That’s all I ask.” She said.
“Like I said, they’re not worth my time now, love. If they continue bashing you and my family for how we do business I’ll let you know first alright? But I can’t let them off without a warning, so I’ll send them a letter alright?” He said.
“Well it better be good then. That’s the last I want to hear of this feud. I can deliver it to them if it will help...to make a point at least.” She said.
“Take this then, it won’t be good.” He said giving her a handgun from his jacket.
“I’m not shooting my family Tommy!” She said loudly as they approached the Garrison.
“It’s not for them. It’s for you. They’re not the nicest people and I want you safe. Especially since you work for us now. If they hurt one of us they hurt all of us alright? I know that’s not what you want to hear but it’s how this business works. Now...let’s go have some fun aye.” He said, helping her out of the car and into the bar that was teeming with people from the shop.
“Oi! How’d the wedding go? You’re both home early.” Arthur asked, handing them both a glass of whiskey.
“Terrible. Tommy’s writing a letter tomorrow to put them on their toes.” She said.
“Did they say summin’ about ya?” He asked.
“Yes...and about the company.” Thomas added.
“I thought we told him last time that we’d blind him.” Arthur said, an angry look in his eyes.
“Aye we did. But that didn’t account for her mother and sister. They have a way with words don’t they love?” Thomas asked.
“Mhmm. I’m delivering it, maybe then they’ll take what they say more seriously next time.” She said.
“We can only hope.” Thomas said, snaking an arm around her waist as they spent the rest of the night at the Garrison before going to their respected homes, too worried about the mission to do anything else.
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The next week, Thomas signed the end of the letter, his hand cramping from the amount of things he’d written. Wanting to make sure his threat came off clear as day.
“Here Tommy, put this in with it.” Y/N said, handing him a lone razor blade, making him raise an eyebrow.
“Just in case they want to make anymore remarks, they can do us a favor and blind themselves. Like you said, they’re not worth your time now.” She said with a small smirk.
He took a sip of his whiskey and pointed to her with a grin, ushering her to come over to him.
“I like how you think.” He said, pulling her close and kissing her lips ever so lightly. The feeling between them almost electric as they departed.
“I’ll go take care of this, you go on with your business.” She said, as he handed her the letter.
“You know how to shoot?” He asked.
“Mhmm. Been practicing with John.” She said with a smirk.
“Alright, love you.” He said, as he caught himself muttering those words out sooner than he wanted to. But the truth was he couldn’t stand to see her go, not without knowing she was safe.
She stood there for a moment, looking at him as a smile spread across her face.
“I love you too.” She said before walking out the door to drive to the dreaded house she grew up in. Hoping this letter would keep them at bay for once in her life. Knowing her only chance at freedom from her family’s binds were through the doors of the shop and in the arms of the man she loved.
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Thomas Shelby Tag List:
@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx, @lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore, @xxbeckybeexx-blog
If you’d like to be added/removed, just send me an ask/message! :)
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marvelous-space-nerd · 3 years ago
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My dearest Bee
Hi dear tumblr people! I wrote a thing and I quite like it,,
Summary: Time travel, is, well something. Who would've thought that you would get stuck in the 1800's?? Well here you are, part of the Van der Linde gang, ready to face the past.
First chapter can be read as a stand alone chapter. It takes place a few years after Isaac died. The relationship between the reader and Arthur is platonic. Enjoy!!
ao3
My dearest Bee,
So I hope these letters- I can’t call them letters if they’re in a book right?- Anyways, I hope these will find you, I hope you’re home, safe. I hope you saw your dog again, I miss her. I have a horse now though! Maybe I’ll name her after you, or just wasp. If I remember correctly you weren’t the biggest fan of wasps. But really, I’m not sure if we timetraveld or were transported to another universe where everything just started like 100 years later, the latter case making it a whole lot harder for you to find this. I just really hope you’ll find this against all odds, because I said I’d write to you if I made it. And I did! I guess. After the whole thing blew up some cowboys found me, I think they call themselves the Van der Linde gang? But yeah, they feed me and gave me a bed for the small price of doing some chores. I’d like to do more though, did you know that the 1800’s are really boring even though you can die at any second? It’s spicy but in the wrong way. I’d like you to know though that it’s not all bad here. People are lovely when they’re not trying to shoot you. You should see a campfire evening- hell any evening- here.
Yours always,
(Y/N)
“(Y/N) get off your lazy ass and do the chores we asked you to do!”
“Mister Morgan! No need to yell, I got it perfectly under control. I was just, taking a break, that's all. Everyone who works all day has the right to take a break.”
“Boy as much as we want it workers are exploited ‘till they fall to the ground face first. You however are not so-” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes before speaking agian. Softer this time than the louder tone he was using first. “get to work, please.”
“Fine fine, but-”
“There better leave something good out of that big mouth of yours.”
“Hey that's just rude! But I want one of you lot to teach me anything. I can’t even ride a horse for Christ's sake.”
“I still don’t get how you can’t kiddo.”
“I told you I lost my memory at the explosion, maybe I lost my skills too.” You said avoiding his piercing gaze. Nothing is better at covering up lies than staring at rocks being sad over the skills you’ve lost.
“And we all know about that blatant lie.” Fuck, maybe rocks aren’t good at covering up.
“It isn’t-”
“Boy I don’t give a damn, you could work on your handwriting though, you’re almost worse than John. But fine, when you’re done with your chores I'll teach you to ride.” He said, finally giving in.
“Yay!” You said while doing little hand clapping motion. “I won’t disappoint, I promise. I’m a fast learner!” You said with smiling eyes
“And how’d you find out you were a fast learner boy?” He spoke out as he raised his eyebrows, just enough for you to feel them piercing right through you, poking at all the holes in your lie. You thought you’d last at least a few months, well here you are, exactly one month deep in this shithole being caught red handed.
“Fuck” Is all you managed to cram out while your eyes lost all their focus. You being back in your own mind instead of the wild world.
It made the silence hard. The only sound that of the other gang members and the birds and the bees to give you something to focus on. It’s so hard out here, no amount of scouts will ever prepare one for the real wild.vIt’s much scarier out here. The real wild is the place where you die if you trip over the wrong rock. The scouts will make sure the rock isn’t even there. Every bird will just put down another rock and god I want the silence broken, just as broken as my lie is.
“I know there’s probably a reason you’re not telling us anything.” Athur said, as he moved closer, his eyes smaller. Like they could see right in his head “You can’t hide forever, not who you are.”
“...”
“Use your words boy”
“I’m sorry, Mister Morgan, I don’t know what to say to that.”
“You’ll figure it out, but first geT your ass back to woRK.” His voice became louder this time, I mean this was the third time he asked. He put his hand on your shoulder, shoving you away from your shared tent towards the hay bales you were supposed to move. A bit harder than anyone in the twenty-first century would’ve done, but for Arthur it was just a friendly push.
“I will, I will mister Morgan!” You said trying to act cheerful. Arthur made a “tsk” sound and waved you off, absolutely done, it seemed. You moved to the hay bales that were still in the wagon, ready to be fed to the horses.
The hay bales were heavy, yet they seemed lighter than they were a month ago. Your hands weren’t soft no more and being covered in dirt and dust wasn’t rare anymore. The luxuries that the modern world gave you disappeared the moment you decided that Bee was the one who should go home. One to run to the portal the moment it opens, one to pull the lever and jump through afterwards. Both of you knew that people don’t want you touching their stuff, let alone interdimensional portals or time machines. You knew someone would be quick to show up the moment you turned it on. It was surprising to see the portal become unstable, blinking in and out, in and out of existence. It left you with 2 choices. Option a: jump in it praying it would still transport you back home, back to all you knew not leaving you in the empty pocket of a closed portal. Or option b: run away for the inevitable explosion.
Gods you hated thinking about it. It played and twisted your mind. You couldn’t even talk about it, no accessible therapists in the wild west. And you’d prefer not to tell anyone you’re a helpless time traveler. Stuck in 1895 traveling with a gang of outlaws. A surely unique situation only you could get yourself in. You don’t even remember what you chose. You just remembered waking up surrounded by a bunch of cowboys.
“And how is our newest member doing?” The man's smooth and easy voice was easily recognizable. Dutch Van der Linde. Isn’t it ironic that he has a dutch surname and that his parents called him, well, Dutch. It’s a question that always on your mind, why his parents did that and if it’s iconic or just stupid. Dutch was one of the first people who introduced himself, right after Arthur- who was very inclined on being called Mister Morgan- and Hosea. The trio who showed you the wild west wasn’t all bad.
“Dutch! It is absolutely lovely to see you.” You said while putting the last hay bale down. A little bit of healthy sweat decorating your face. “I am doing absolutely great. Arthur- Mister Morgan is actually going to teach me how to ride a horse when I’m done.” You said while eyeing Arthur. Clearly not being amused with the situation. “Eh, he said yes, it’s his problem now.”
“I’m surprised you got through that thick skull of his!” He said with a smile, each word a little louder than the last. He clapped his hand on your shoulder as he let out a little chuckle.
“I think he likes me even though he won’t admit it actually.” You lied, confidence was half of the battle, as they say.
“I think I don’t you annoying little bastard.” Arthur said, joining the conversation. Dutch clearly talks loud enough to make sure any gossip subject will show up to the gossip. Definitely not the fact that you made eye contact with him “Now get to your horse before I change my mind.”
“Arthur! Oh shit- Mister Morgan! I’ll be there before they can even give me a speeding ticket” You said, maybe it was a bit too modern this time, but isn’t the wild west about living on the edge?
“You speak a strange version of english boy.” Arthur said. “You know how to saddle up a horse right?”
“Hosea taught me so I could help around with chores. And Wasp already had a saddle when we found her so I’m all good to go Mister Morgan!”
“Great, now go get her saddled up so we can go.” He said, motioning towards the horses.
“See you in a flash.” You said while snapping your fingers, forming finger guns to point back to Arthur. You dismissed the look of confusion on their faces, clearly not used to the finger gun motion. You walked off to Wasp and gave her a little pet and a snack. As you were putting her saddle on you overheard the rest of the conversation between Arthur and Dutch.
“We can both see you have a soft spot for the boy, Arthur.” Dutch said with a chuckle.
“And we both know youngins have great hearing and that he’s spying on our little conversation.” Arthur said in response, eyeing you. You kept saddling Wasp up as if you heard nothing. Let the deaf chicken inside of you arise and all. Hoping they’d say more.
“I know Arthur, I know.” Dutch said with a chuckle. About to walk away. “Oh before you go, he’s a kid Arthur, don’t be too hard on him and be carefull.” You didn’t think you were a kid, maybe not a full grown adult, but at least you were half an adult, no kid. But you weren’t going to say anything, you were eavesdropping after all. “He’s all yours, (Y/N)!” He yelled at you, before leaving for real. You turned around and gave him a smile and a quick wave. Arthur walked
“Take her by the reins, we're walking to an open spot first.”
“Shoar '' You said, absolutely trying to mimic the western accent you hear all around here. Apparently it was just bad enough to make Arthur chuckle.
“We’ll make a cowboy outta ya yet.”
Traveling in the wild was absolutely amazing for the most part. Abandoned camps are in fact disgusting. They leave their trash! And it’s not like they cleaned their cans so it smells. But besides that the mostly untouched nature was beautiful and the air was so clean. It all felt much more, how to put it, real. No factories everywhere, no house on every corner of the street, just, the world how mother nature intended it. It was peaceful. There was an open field about ten minutes walking from camp, and that’s where you arrived. Reins in hand.
“You ready to go (Y/N)?” Arthur asked. You put your hand on your hips looking at your horse with abosute pride and stupidity because how to fuck were you going to do this?
“Absolutely.” You said. “Remind me how do I get on again?”
The words were taken by the wind as they made room for silence. Arthur’s expression could be described as a mix between surprise, disbelief and the OhMyGodAreYouStupid emotion. Yet it all quickly made room for a smile, or a laugh. He could definitely be laughing at you.
“I didn’t expect to need to teach an 18 year old how to get on a damn horse.”
There was no fire behind the words, but as they say, fight (fake) fire with (fake) fire.
“And I didn’t expect to end up here for the life of so I did not think horse riding would be a viable skill to know. So get your pretty ass in the saddle so I can.. mimic you or something.” You said making a hand gesture at Arthur’s horse.
He gave you one more smile as he turned to his horse, getting on slower than usual. He got on on the right side of his horse so he put his right foot in the styrup. He lifted his body up effortlessly and as elegant as a western outlaw could get. And there he was, in the saddle, in full western glory.
“Looks easy enough.” You said, an absolute lie as it turned out. The stirrups were way higher than expected, and the getting on could be called anything but elegant or the cool western movies you saw. Turns out your own body is heavy and there’s quite a lot on a horse to get stuck behind. But you ended up in the saddle, full western glory.
The rest of the riding lesson went about the same. Arthur did something really cool looking and whenever you did it it felt like you were some old slime blob.
“Squeeze your lower legs to get her to move, (Y/N)!”
“I am this horse is just broken- OHMYGOD SHe’s moving!”
“Never blame the horse for the rider's lack of skill, boy. Now steering.”
He explained it all to you. How to properly hold the reins and how to use them, how to do it with one hand and how to do it with two. Western and English style he called it. He taught you how to move your horse around and what not to do. The one and most important thing being to have no doubts and no fear. The horse will sense it.
It felt odd at first, to have control over another living being. It wasn’t easy no, Arthur had to tell you how to correct your posture every 5 minutes. But after a while of correcting everything you started to get confident. It started getting easier to steer. Every muscle of yours was getting tired but it was so worth it. Maybe one day you’ll look like an actual movie star.
Once you got the basics down you could go a bit harder. From a walk to a trot, a canter and even a little gallop. And as the wind brushed over your face blowing your hair away, it felt like something the 21st century didn’t have a lot of. Galloping through the grass hearing every step as more and more grass was thrown into the air. Arthur still giving you instructions on what to watch out for, riding by your side in case of emergency. And the horse, Wasp, god she deserved a cooler name. Her big strong muscles moving beneath you, her breath as she was running, the heat radiating from her skin, gods it felt so great. No modern bike or car could ever top this feeling of freedom.
Cars and bikes could however top the feeling of falling off. You lost control quite a few times, losing balance, a rearing horse throwing you right where you belong. But nothing modern could beat that feeling of getting on again. Of it working when you tried it for a second time. Hell, maybe the third time. Arthur was there to make sure you were okay, and you could have another go. And another. And just one more for good measure. Lying on the ground trying to see if this time you did break something wasn’t a strange thing after today. Hell it happened at least every hour. But determining it as fine and getting on again, it felt like a lot.
You didn’t even realize it was getting late until the sky started turning orange. The normally so bright sun started becoming more yellow and stopped burning at your eyes. Instead it just seemed pretty. The clouds became yellow just like the sun, and the sky turned a bit darker with every passing minute. Yellow and orange were happy colours, maybe this was an good omen, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t think you’d die somewhere in a ditch. Bee would be proud to see you haven’t given up. You knew that for once.
“Time isn’t a real thing Mister Morgan, I swear.” You said looking at the sunset.
“Call me Arthur.” Said Arthur Morgan, though guy in the west in dire need of respect. Arthur “You call me mister Morgan boy” Morgan.
“Wait, did someone hide weed somewhere because this must be a hallucination! Can I really call you Arthur?”
“Wouldn't have said it otherwise boy.” He hissed, the mister Morgan just wouldn't leave Arthur.
“Well, Arthur, thank you. I’m happy I only have to say half the syllables now.”
“Shoar thing. Now let’s go back to camp before they send out a search party to see if you haven’t broken anything today.” He said jokingly
“I would never! I am obviously the best horse rider in the entire United states!” You said sarcastically, if you fake confidence long enough, it might become real.
Arthur laughed at that. “Well see about that boy. Now let’s go, we should be there soon considering you can ride now.”
“Of course, good plan. I can show off my skills now!”
“Shoar, go ahead boy. Don’t make your entrance too dramatic.”
“I will, I absolutely will. Oh and Arthur?”
“Hm?” He said, quite relaxed actually.
“Thank you, for everything today. I’m happy you let me bother you today.” You said with a proud smile.
“You’re welcome boy. Bother me all you want, we ain’t getting rid of you just yet.” He said as he ruffled your hair a bit. “Now let’s go home, I’m realll hungry.”
You absolutely couldn’t hide the smile on your face. “Hell yeah, I’m starving.” You said as you kicked the stirrups making Wasp move, you rode to camp in the beautiful orange sky. Maybe he did actually care about you, just a little.
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!
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tinyrogue · 3 years ago
Text
Arcane
Ok, so @theoneandonlygreenelf wrote so much in the comments of that last post that I just HAVE to answer like this because otherwise I’m going to explode :D
I believe that the book Caitlyn shows vi is something of jinx’s creation because the trailers imply that she gets it whilst in zaun and getting exploded from traps (i.e. jinx’s little gifts), and that vi would recognize the handwriting perhaps, which is why vi would freak out and become so intense, when provided with proof that her sister might still be alive I’d imagine that’s one of the few things still capable of riling up post prison vi
Yeah I was wondering about that too. Like, why does Vi instantly recognise the scribbling in the book? It must be something tied directly to Jinx, otherwise it wouldn’t make sense for her to go slightly mental at its sight :’)
although I will note that the writers mentioned that they wanted to make sure all the characters had good and bad sides so I don’t think it’s totally for certain that marcus’ plan is to blame vi for everything bc that would leave him without any positive traits lol, especially considering that a. he seems somewhat concerned over vi going in and getting herself killed and b. everything with his mentor getting her shit wrecked probably changed his mindset a little as well
Very good point! I really liked the scene where Silco throws the pouch of gold at Marcus in episode 3. A few coins fall out and they fall into the blood and I liked that imagery a LOT. It’s gruesome, sure, but there is literally no way you can make it more obvious that this is some hard-earned blood money :D
He seems very radical all in all, but he did save Vi from Silco and his gang.... with chloroform :’D I’m not sure if he’ll show a better side after all, however. One shot in one of the trailers (can’t remember which one rn) showed him in front of a whole bunch of Wardens with floodlights in the background and it looked like he was kinda running that show??
He might capitalise on his superior’s death (Vander once called her Grace I believe? She looks so much like a living, breathing Camille that I legit did a double-take when I first saw her :D) and end up deciding not to confess to the Council in order to save face. Not sure though, I guess we’ll see.
don’t forget that the last vi saw of powder was silco standing over her with a knife so there’s a very good chance vi thinks she’s dead and is rotting in prison without any attempt to escape because of it :(
Oh my GODDD that ending was heart-wrenching!!! D: But this would actually line up pretty well with your comment up above - that Vi would go ape at seeing Jinx’s journal of whatever.
Sorry for the ramble, but Arcane is RUINING me! I can’t remember the last time I was this excited for a tv show omg
THANKS FOR TALKING TO ME ABOUT IT!!! x)
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The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 06 of 18)
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Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader
Word count: 2.4K
Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...
As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?
<- Previous part (05)
Next part (07) ->
{Stranger Things Masterlist}
×
Point of No Return
“(Y/N)! Go get the door!” Your aunt yells from the kitchen. “I'm busy here!”
“Ok!” You turn off the blow dryer, quickly fixing your hair before rushing downstairs. “What are you doing?”
“Grandma's cake.” She answers as you move to open the door. “Who's this?”
“Monica, probably.” You're still speaking when you unlock and pull it open. Your heart skips a beat when you see it isn't Monica. You raise an eyebrow to see him leaning against the door frame, a smile spreading through his lips.
“Honey?”
“It's just Billy, aunt,” you say, raising your voice a little. Pushing him backwards, you close the door behind your back. “What are you doing here, Hargrove?”
“It's our day off. You promised to go to my place to meet Maxine, remember?”
Oh, you completely forgot about that. “I made no such promise.” Crossing your arms, you jump a little when the door is opened again. Turning around, you see your aunt with bright eyes.
“(Y/N), won't you invite your friend in?” Her tone makes you blush.
“Goor morning, Miss Florence. Actually, I'm just here to pick her up.”
“I can't go today, Billy. Diane is baking something nice and–”
“No, no, no. She's going.” Diane cuts you off, grabbing your arm and pulling you inside. “Go change out of your pajamas, honey.”
“But–” She gives you a meaningful look.
“(Y/N), go change.”
Rolling your eyes, you sigh. “I'll be right back,” you tell Billy, ignoring how embarrassed you are, and the smirk on his lips.
You run upstairs, trying not to think too much about where you're going. You were kinda hoping he'd forget about that, but you'll try to keep in mind what Monica said. There's no reason to overthink. When the moment comes to make big decisions, you'll make them. You do enjoy being around Billy, and you do have fun together. The whole feeling you have when you're around him is unlike anything you ever felt before, and some part of you is starting to get addicted to it. On the pool, you have found yourself excited for the lunch break because you'll get to talk to him... It scares you, but as you change into a lilac blouse and jeans, you make up your mind for the day. You'll be with him today, so you'll make the best of it.
After taking one last look in the mirror, you take some money because you remember saying something about pizza. You take a deep breath before leaving the bedroom. But you move backwards abruptly when you see Billy standing outside. “What the hell!” You exclaim, pushing him and closing the door.
“Can't I see your bedroom?”
“No.” You wouldn't mind actually, but you decide to tease him since he came all the way up here without asking.
“Then you won't get to see mine.”
“That's fine by me.” Shrugging your shoulders, you bump into him as you move back downstairs. “I'm going, aunt. See you.”
“Have fun with your boyfriend, honey.”
You freeze by the door, feeling as if Diane just betrayed you. You feel Billy's eyes, burning, and you bet he has that stupid smirk on his face. “He's not my boyfriend,” you shout at her, grabbing Billy's arm and pulling him out.
You're impressed by the fact that he opens the passenger door for you, but since you're still blushing, you avoid his gaze. The short trip to his house is silent as you hope what your aunt said fades away... And you're also memorizing the way there.
Soon enough you're at his front door, and you watch as he unlocks it. “The place used to suck, but I've been trying to fix it, so... Don't mind it. It's not as cool as your house.”
“Uhm...” You mumble, stepping inside and looking around, taking in the place. It's not bad as he described it, it's cozy...
It's Billy's place. You feel weird to be here, as if you're giving a whole new step closer to him. “How many girls have you brought here?” You suddenly need to know if you can allow yourself to feel special.
“One.” He moves to stand before you, holding his index finger up, then slowly pointing it at you.
Taking a deep breath, you step back, smiling. “You brought me here to meet your sister. Where is she?”
“Max!” He yells suddenly, at the top of his lungs and you jump, heart racing.
“What the hell.” You breathe out, slapping his arm playfully. His bare arm. You haven't noticed the sleeveless tattered dark gray shirt that leaves his arms exposed. You have to force yourself to look away, meeting his blue eyes. “Why did you do that?”
“Did I scared you?” He smiles, towering over you.
“Yeah, you did.” You step back again, eager to put some distance between you and him. “Jerk. Go get your sister before I change my mind and go home.”
“She's probably listening to music.” Billy walks away, disappearing in the hall. You're left alone so you walk around, noticing the bench press he has in the middle of the living room. Walking around it, a piece of paper above the TV gets your attention. Taking it, you sigh to read Max's handwriting. “She's not in her room.” Billy says as he comes back, gesturing at the hall.
“Be back in fifteen minutes, shithead.” You read the words out loud to him, showing the paper.
Billy takes it from your hand, rolling his eyes. “I'm gonna kill her.”
“Sorry that you have to stay alone here with me. It must be a true nightmare, Billy Hargrove.” Raising an eyebrow, you smile at his expression. “What about that?” You walk around the bench press, standing behind it and trying to pull the barbell up. The thing doesn't even move, so you try again, using more strength, but nothing happens. “Whoa, this thing is heavy.”
“I work out almost every night, so I just leave it here.”
“That you work out is pretty obvious.” You gesture at his arms and chest.
“Yeah. I'm glad you noticed.” He comes to stand behind you. “Let me just–” He picks the weight up, both his arms around you, keeping you caged between his body and the bar.
“What are you doing?” You ask in a low voice as he starts moving the damn thing, up and down, up and down. “Ok, I'm just a tiny little bit impressed to see you lifting this thing up, but put it down, please.” He knows the effect he has on girls, and he also knows you're not immune to it.
He doesn't say anything, pulling the bar up once again, forcing it a little against your shoulders, pushing you backwards until your back hits his chest. His solid, strong chest. “You're such a jerk, Billy.” Why is your voice so weak? You look at his left arm, how tensed his muscles are. “These things are heavy. Put it down before you drop it and hurt me.” You need to get away from him. Being this close is dangerous, because you feel something coming from the back of your mind, an idea that had never crossed your thoughts before.
“I'd never let anything hurt you.”
You turn your head to the side, just enough to look at him. He's already looking, those blue eyes threatening to drown you. Your eyes fall on his lips, of how close they are. You could easily tiptoe now and find out how his lips would feel on yours. It feels like he knows exactly what you're felling because when he moves the bar to give you more space, you turn around, almost as if you're being pulled towards him, like a magnet.
But you know you shouldn't kiss Billy. It would be a point of no return. That's it, a big decision... But right now, the last thing you want to do is think. You just want to feel, and let these feelings flow out.
When you're face to face with him, you feel the bar on your back, pushing you against his chest, making it impossible to run away. As if you would even if you had the chance. “You know I hate you, right? For doing this.” You whisper, as your arms involuntary move to lay on his chest.
“I'm not–”
“Hey, shitface. I'm back.” A girl's voice drags you out of your numbness, and Billy puts the bar down on the bench.
“That's disgusting.” Someone else says and you step away from Billy, catching your breath and clearing your throat. Max isn't alone. She brought a small army with her, five people, and everyone looks the same age.
“Perfect timing as always, Max,” Billy complains. “(Y/N), this is Maxine, my dipshit sister. And the rest of her gang.”
“The gang that saved your ass, you mean.” One of them says, his voice a little muffled, which makes you giggle a little. “Dustin, nice to meet you.” He steps forward and shakes your hand. “So. Are you Billy's girlfriend?”
“No, I–”
“Ok. These are Lucas, my boyfriend.” Max starts, and you feel Billy sighing when she names the boy. “Will, Mike, Eleven, and Dustin you already met.”
“So these are your saviors,” you say, turning to look at Billy.
“Every single one of them.” He answers.
“If you two aren't dating, why did you bring her here, Billy? Wasn't there a rule about not bringing your flings to the house?” Max mutters, walking past you and to the TV. The others move to seat on the couch and some on the floor.
“(Y/N) is not a fling.” He says, rolling his eyes. You try hard not to smile at what you just heard.
You're a little uncomfortable since Max's friends keep staring as if you're a ghost. Their eyes fly from Billy and back at you, and they even gossip, whispering on each other's ears. “Max, you look like a very smart kid.”
“I am.” She says with a smirk. “Unlike my brother.”
“So, if I make you a question, would you be able to answer real quick?” You smile at her curious face, as you slowly step backwards, closer to the hall and further away from Billy.
“Yes.”
“Billy's room?” You burst out, speaking a fast as you can.
“First door to the right.” She yells, just as fast as you spoke, and you're off, like a lightning bolt because you see Billy moving.
You run through the hall and literally throw yourself on the door, opening it and almost stumbling in. You're laughing when he grabs your wrist, giving up when he notices you're already in. “You got me there, I'll admit.”
It's your time to smirk at him, teasingly, stepping further into his bedroom. “What did you say before? That I wouldn't get to see your room?” As you speak, you start pacing around. His room is more organized then you expected. His bed has a dark red blanket over it, and it looks very comfortable. There are movie posters on the walls and a sound system on his dresser. You move to stand before the mirror he has on the nightstand beside his bed, looking through the colognes he has. “Which one you use?”
“All of them.”
“No, there's one you use more often.” You have the scent vivid in your memory, so you quickly go through the small bottles, bringing them close to my nose. “This one.” You look up, meeting his eyes through the mirror.
“It's my favorite.” He says, moving a little closer.
“Mine too.” Thanks to the proximity, you can smell it, irradiating from his body. It's fresh and strong, very masculine. “I mean... I like it.”
Billy takes the bottle from your hands, opening it. “Here.” He pour some on his index and middle finger, bringing them to your neck, on the soft spot below your left ear, pulling the hair away, and does the same on the other side. You feel the cold liquid spreading through your skin, and the scent surrounds you completely. “Now you smell like me.”
What should you say? Or do? You're frozen, inebriated by the closeness, by the low sound of his breathing. “I...”
“Hey, lovebirds. We're watching a movie.” Max says, and her voice brings you back to Earth. She has such perfect timing to save your ass. “You can either come and watch or stay here and make out. You pick.” And she leaves.
“Movie...” You tell him, catching your breath.
“Did I make you nervous?”
“I just want to watch the movie, Billy.” Grabbing his hand, you pull him towards the living room. “We're watching the movie,” you tell the kids.
“You and you. Move.” Billy gestures at Dustin and Will, who immediately stand up from the cough, giving you and Billy enough space to sit down.
The movie is already starting, and you roll your eyes to feel Billy's arm around your shoulders. You're aware the kids are staring, but you guess they're not used to see Billy like this with a girl. But you try to really focus on the movie, as you slowly relax.
You feel as you move closer to Billy, your legs touching. The movie isn't very good, and you laugh when Billy sigh's out of frustration. The kids seem to like it though.
“Not a very good one, right?” You whisper to him.
“You picked the wrong option, princess.” He snaps back, and you immediately remember what the other option was.
“What makes you think I want to make out with you?” You turn your head to look at him, using all the sassiness you have to cover up the truth. That you want to kiss him so bad, a fact that you just realized today. You've been wanting to kiss him for a while now, but you know how dangerous it would be.
“You think I don't notice when you blush? Or when you start breathing fast? Or when–”
“Shhh.” Someone mutters, and your eyes move back to the TV, abruptly. You feel Billy's chest moving when he laughs.
“I need to know something...” He whispers, and you feel as his arms slide down, encircling your waist and pulling you closer. You can feel his breath on your hair, and whatever is on the TV right now is just a distant blur. “I need to know if you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you.”
×
@chloe-skywalker @dpaccione @tilesandtokens @dreamin-of-dacre
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mashiraostail · 4 years ago
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Can I get Gang Orca, Aizawa, Present Mic and Midnight with an S/O who gets really awful nightmares and has a hard time coming out of it when they wake up? (Needing to be reminded where they are, getting sick, etc?)
yea for sure!! thanks for the req! ((me appearing and spamming as a treat for writing a whole paper in one sitting)) TW vomit mention under the cut
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Kugo Sakamata: Kugo always knew you to be a restless sleeper, ever since you started spending nights together he’d often wake up with you in a far different position from the one you’d started the night in while he stayed mostly unchanged. He didn’t attribute it to much beyond normal variations in the way people slept, of course until you started having the nightmares when you were in bed with him. He wasn’t a particularly deep sleeper, though he’d adjusted well enough to your tossing and turning, but the gasp and the way you seemed to spring up from bed was unusual enough to stir him.  “What’s the matter?” He turns over to face you. “No-” You’re shaking your head, “no, no, no, no-”  “Hey.” He sits up, “hey you were having a nightmare, you were just having a nightmare it’s okay, it’s fine-” He reaches out for you but is careful not to touch, the last thing he wants is to startle you anymore.  “No-” You say it again, “no no I don’t I- what’s going on?” You didn’t look like you even recognized your own bedroom or your own boyfriend for that matter, and he was hard to forget even on his worst days.  “What’s happening- who- I-” You look around nervously, hands clamped into two tight, shaking fist. “You were just asleep,” He tries to calm you, to pull you back down to earth, “you’re in bed you’re with me. It’s just Kugo. You know who I am, It’s Kugo. Say my name back to me, take a deep breath.”   “Kugo?” Your eyes are wet with big blobs of salty tears when you look up at him and your lips are chewed bright red. But you sound so happy to see him as if you didn’t get into bed with him barely 5 hours ago.  “Yeah, it’s Kugo.” He soothes, honestly a little bit relieved himself, “it’s just me.” You grab ahold of his wrists where they hover in the space between your bodies and he takes that as an invitation into your space, pulling you close to him, under his arm, and into his chest. “Just Kugo-” You barely whisper it and he nods and offers a quiet hum of affirmation, he other arm coming around you, “it’s just me and you. Whatever it was it’s over now, it wasn’t real. It can’t hurt you, I’m here.”  
Shouta Aizawa: Intentionally or not he usually stayed up a fair bit later than you, sitting up in bed getting some last-minute grading or paperwork done for the next day while you snored beside him, sometimes curled up around his waist, other times not. He noticed a fair bit about you in these times, you talked in your sleep, sometimes indiscernible mutters, but other times they were clear and obviously distressed. In these times he’d usually just put a hand on you, not to wake you up just to ground you, it usually worked in quieting you. You also moved around a fair bit, he didn’t think much of it though, and if you were a little too restless for his liking he could normally wrap and arm around you, or throw one over your stomach and it’d keep you in place fine.  Though tonight you seemed to be sleeping fine. You were laying on your side next to him as he sat up, cross-legged, and scrutinizing Mineta's mostly illegible handwriting, they really need to have a talk about this. If you didn’t look so comfortable he’d wake you up and ask you to give reading this a shot, you were better at it than he was, but you really did look all too comfortable. Until you were shooting up like your life depended on it, chest taking in a huge heaving breath. Honestly, it started him, he dropped the paper, and the small stack beside him fell onto the floor with his pen. “Oh my god,” You gasp, “holy fuck-”  “Hey, it was just a-”  “No.” You shake your head, “no, no I can’t do it-” threading your fingers nervously through your mussed hair, “I can’t do it again I can’t go back in there I’ll-” you choke on your words. You looked thoroughly lost, totally confused, unsure of everything and so utterly panicked by it. Like you were about to drown despite the lack of water surrounding you. Tears fell freely, easily, like they’d save you somehow, like a lifeline. He couldn’t begin to imagine what you’d seen. “Hey.” His voice is loud, but firm and grounding, “look at me.” You jump at the sound of him, you were so confused you couldn’t even feel his presence beside you and look over to him.  “It was just a nightmare. You’re safe.” “Where am I-” You just looked more panicked at the sight of him, like he was some stranger you’d met at a bar and not your partner of multiple years, you looked at him like he was a major miscalculation on your part and not the guy you were constantly grinning at and confessing your love to. “We’re at my place.” His voice gets softer now that he had your attention, the last thing he needed was to frighten you anymore.  “It’s Shouta hey, you know me. Come on, you know me, remember? It’s just Shou, that’s all. I’m not gonna hurt you.”  “Shouta-” The sigh that leaves your lips is borderline heartbreaking. The way your face shifts from that resentment from before, the nervous confusion and anger to the sheer thankfulness on it now is enough to make him think whatever you dreamed about must not have been too far from what had been a reality for you before. You looked at him like he’d saved your life.  “Yeah, that’s it, Shouta. It’s only me, you know me. Remember?”  “I know you.” You nod as his hand comes down on your back. “It was just a dream. Just a bad dream.” He squeezes your shoulder and lets you fall sideways onto him, “a nightmare.” His arms come fully around you.  “That’s all it was. It wasn’t real.” He presses his face into your mussed hair, “it’s just me and you, nothing’s gonna hurt you, it wasn’t real.”  Hizashi Yamada: You were a notoriously uneasy sleeper. Hizashi was a notoriously deep sleeper. Honestly, it was a match made in heaven if you asked anyone. Sure you’d go to sleep at night all cuddled up to one another but by the next morning one of you would be fully on top of the other, you weren’t sure who the drool on your shirt belonged to, but you didn’t really care either way. Hizashi knew you had the occasional nightmare, but he figured most people did. He knew he’d had his own fair share of them, especially in the years after he graduated high school. He didn’t mind being shaken up by you if you were nervous or upset by a bad dream, he thought it was cute honestly, even in his groggy and tired state. But you didn’t wake him up tonight. He was a deep sleeper sure, but if you got out of bed without telling him he’d wake up for sure, the lack of your presence was louder than any cars honking outside or noisy neighbors stomping around above. When he rolled over and didn’t have something solid to grab onto of course he woke up. What else was a guy to do? He sits up.  “Hey, babe?” He calls it into the empty room, voice gruff and thick with sleep. There isn’t a response.  “Babe?” He’s a little worried, it is his job to assume the worst-case scenario, even if he isn’t as gloom and doom as some of his colleagues his mind always goes there first too. When he hears coughing it doesn’t do much to help. He gets out of bed and rubs his eyes which are still bleary with sleep, though the rest of him was alert as normal. The bathroom door is wide open, and the light is on.  “Hey, babe are you alright?” He doesn’t wanna look inside, so he stops a little behind the entrance, “can I come in?” It sounds like your sick, which is worlds better than his previous worst-case scenarios. He can hear the heaving, groaning, “I’m coming in okay?”  Sure enough there you are, on the ground by the toilet, one arm slung over it as you returned all the contents of your stomach to the world.  “Hey, god why didn’t you wake me up-” He’s rushing to your side but you don’t look happy to see him at all, instead you’re scrambling back into the wall. “No please I-”  “Hey, what?” Hizashi holds his hands up in mock surrender, “I’ve seen worse than vomit it doesn’t gross me out if you’re worried-”  “go away please I can’t do it I-”  “Do what? Babe, what are you talking about?” You don’t even look like you know who he is, it’s like you’re seeing a totally different head on his shoulders or something. Whoever you’re seeing, you don’t like them one bit. “Babe it’s Hizashi-” He holds his hand out to you, “what are you so afraid of? There’s no one here but us.” You just lurch back to the toilet bowl.  “I’m gonna touch you, okay?” He pins some stray hairs behind your ear, dropping a hand onto your back, rubbing long soothing strokes there as he presses a kiss to the curve of your shoulder.  “It’s just Hizashi. You know I’d never hurt you, babe. You know me. ‘s Zashi, you remember now?” You’re nodding meekly into the toilet bowl at his words as your stomach clenches and heaves.  “Hizashi-” You choke it out somehow, voice raspy, you just sound desperate for him, for help. “Bad dream?” He drops his forehead onto you and you nod again. “Must have been really awful, huh?”  “Terrible.” You barely push the word out and wraps an arm around your back. “I’m sorry. Please wake me up next time, if you can, so I can help, just kick me or something it doesn’t matter.” You nod again as you slump back into him.  “It wasn’t real. It was just a dream, it can’t hurt you. I’d never let anything near you like that again.” He presses his face into your neck from his spot behind you. “Let’s get you cleaned up and back into bed, that sound okay? A warm shower might help?” You nod again at that, “it might...I just-” “No, I know, I’ll go with you. I’ll stay with until you fall asleep again.” 
Nemuri Kayama: She didn’t mind the tossing and turning, no, what she did mind was how upset you look when you did it. She tried to keep an eye on you when you went to sleep before her, to join you when you looked especially uneasy but she supposed there was no way to really be sure of things like this, the only person who knew when it was an awful nightmare was the person having it. There was no catchall, no surefire way to know how bad it was until you woke her up and asked her for help.  But tonight you just shot out of bed, she hadn’t even felt you moving much before.  “Angel-”  She’s rolling over, groggy still but wanting to offer any comfort she can, it was habitual, but before she could get another word out you were up,  “I’m gonna be sick.”  You were off down the hall before Nemuri even knew what was what. She’s only a few seconds behind you though, as soon as she’s in the bathroom door saying your name you’re waving her away, shaking your head as you heave up your stomach contents. But it doesn’t feel like you’re embarrassed, it’s not a ‘go away I don’t want you to see me like this’ sort of thing...it’s like you’re afraid, a deer in headlights, confused and so awfully afraid of your own confusion.  “Please leave me alone I can’t do it-” You warble it out helplessly like you were just a few grams away from breaking into a million tiny pieces.  “No,” She tries to make her voice as soothing as possible, despite her own nerves, “hey no, I’m not gonna hurt you, or make you do anything you don’t wanna do.” She assures you, approaching slowly and kneeling behind you, “I wouldn’t do that to you, I love you.”  You’re still shaking your head, eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t-” It’s barely a whimper. “You know who I am don’t you? Where you are? You’re with me, it’s Nemuri, we’re just at home.” She carefully touches your back, feather-light, “you remember? Nemuri? We got take out for dinner and decided to go to bed early today. Whatever has you so shook up..it’s not real. It can’t hurt you, you’re with me.” You’re holding your stomach woefully.  “It’s me, Muri, say you remember, come on angel...” She rests her head against you. It’s familiar and mild, you relax at it. Slumping back into her.  “Muri-” You hold her arms around you, “thank god.” You sounded so softened like she’d just rescued you from a burning building or something. “It was just a bad dream. A nightmare, that’s all. None of it was real, okay?” You nod weakly at that as you drop your head back, “god.” You groan, “I’m sorry to scare you like that-”  “Come on, don’t be sorry about that. You’re the scared one here. I was just worried, it’s okay now though, you’re alright with me. Let’s clean up and get some real rest now, how about that?” 
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maladaptiv3 · 4 years ago
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Parent’s Night!
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Content: request from anon - “Could I request Casie wanting the reader to go to her Parents Evening, despite both Colson and her mum going? Maybe the reader and Casie's mum actually get on and love to join up with Casie as a bit of a girl's club and tease Colson? I dunno, take it any direction you like 🖤”
Warnings: None! Just cute content and pure fluff! 
Word Count: 1,082 
*original content by colsonbakes*
Colson and the boys were out of town so you were taking full advantage of an empty and quiet house. You had just gotten off the phone with Colson after he finished telling you that Emma was dropping off Casie a day early. You didn’t mind and loved spending time with Casie. You had just slightly fallen into a cat nap when the doorbell jolted you from your meditative state. You knew it was Casie and Emma. You opened the door and Casie came barreling through the door, “Slow down, Cas, what’s the rush?” She nearly toppled over tripping over her own feet and gave you a big hug, “Hi! Is it okay if I go turn on some Netflix?” You nodded your head as Casie gave her mom a quick hug goodbye. Emma handed you Casie’s backpack, “Hey, thanks for taking her a day early. My meeting was rescheduled to first thing in the morning.” I gladly took the bag, “It’s no problem, I’m pretty fond of her.” Emma took her keys back out of her jacket pocket, “I’m so glad that Colson found someone who loves Cas as much as we do.” “I’m just thankful we are all able to get along so well.” Emma laughed and gave your shoulder a slight squeeze, “Oh, trust me, so am I…”
You walked into the living room where Casie had become fully immersed in Frozen. You sat down on the couch next to her, “Hey Cas, why don’t we get you showered and ready for bed? You have parent’s night tomorrow.” She reluctantly paused her movie, “Can I finish the movie before bed?” You slightly mused and smiled at her, “Only if I can watch too.” She beamed and headed upstairs, “Duh!” You followed her upstairs and made sure she had a fresh towel and pajamas for after her shower. You turned on the water and helped her undo her hair from the day before heading to Colson’s room to wait for her, “Casie, I’ll be in daddy’s room when you’re ready to finish the movie.” She gave you a thumbs up and you closed the bathroom door on the way out.
You had been absentmindedly scrolling through Twitter when you heard the bedroom door slowly creak open. Casie peeked through the door, “Ready to finish Frozen?” You smiled back at her and patted the spot on the bed next to you, “It’s already qued up, just have to press play!” She leaped into the bed and started singing along with the movie. Only a few short minutes later Casie was starting to fall asleep. You turned the volume down, “Do you want to save the rest for tomorrow?” Casie shook her head, “I think I can finish it tonight.” You knew within minutes that she would be fast asleep, “We’ll see.” Before she managed to fall asleep she asked you one last question. A question, that you have to admit, caught you a bit off guard. She squeezed your arm into a hug, “Will you come to parent’s night tomorrow with me and daddy?” A stupid grin spread across your face, “I’ll be there if you want me to.” She simply nodded her head and drifted into a deep sleep. You soon followed suit.
You were woken up by Colson trying to sneak into the room. He quietly set his bag down, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You sleepily smiled at him, “It’s okay, I didn’t mean to fall asleep before you got home.” He noticed Casie cuddled up in the blankets next to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “She could have slept in her own room, ya know.” You slowly and carefully sat up as not to disrupt Cas, “We fell asleep watching Frozen, it was kind of nice. She reminds me of you a little bit.” Colson half smiled as he scooped Casie up, “I’m gonna go put her in her room, I’ll be right back.” You nodded and rolled over to cuddle into the pillows, “I’ll be here.” You were falling asleep again when you felt Colson get into bed. You settled into his arms and he pressed a slow and overdue kiss to your lips, “I missed you.” You nuzzled into his neck, “Casie invited me to parent’s night, is it okay if I tag along? Do you think Emma would mind?” He gave your waist a slight squeeze, “I think it would be great if you joined us.”
The next day you were eager and anxious to join Colson, Casie, and Emma at parent’s night. You didn’t want anyone to feel like you were intruding but Colson assured you that wouldn’t be the case. You still couldn’t help but be a bit nervous about the whole thing. You, Colson, and Casie waited a few minutes for Emma to get to the school so you guys could all walk in together. Emma greeted you warmly and actually seemed happy to have someone to talk to other than Colson. Your nerves were finally starting to let up. You got to Casie’s class and her teacher politely asked all of you guys to sign in. You happily obliged and signed in after everyone.
You couldn’t help but look perplexed when you saw Colson’s name, “Col, I never realized how bad your handwriting was until it was lined up with everyone else’s.” Emma laughed a little, “That’s so funny, I have been saying that for years.” Colson sarcastically laughed along with the two of you, “It’s not that bad.” Casie joined in on the fun, “Dad, they’re right, you do have kind of weird handwriting.” He shook his head, “Oh no, not you too. My handwriting is cool, not weird.” Both you and Emma snickered to each other, “Yeah…cool.”
Colson plopped his insanely long body into the comically small child’s desk chair and crossed his arms in a fake pout, “I don’t like this, the three of you ganging up on me. I'm outnumbered.” You couldn’t help but laugh as you took a seat next to him. He gave you a bewildered and slightly insecure look, “My handwriting’s cool, right?” You took his hand in yours, “Oh yeah, so cool.” You and Emma gave each other a knowing glance as Casie found her friends on the other side of the room. Parent’s night turned out to be a night full of laughs, even with some at Colson’s expense, but it was all in good fun.
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