#also todo has been gone?? even though he’s only missing a hand??????

[lavenderjewels]

I like this current jjk fight but every chapter that passes I’m just thinking of gege trying to say the manga is ending this year. how

#i know his editor implied it’s not ending right now but is entering something more final but #that’s vague lol #anyways what I’m saying is I hope it lasts longer #also because I *would* like more chapters of at least short backstory and character interactions #AND NOBARA #also todo has been gone?? even though he’s only missing a hand?????? #todo nobara team up #jjk spoilers

[wolfybugswriting]

Itadori/sukuna x reader

Summary: You go into a yearly rut, and this time Yuji catches you out of your room. He learns what's going on and decides to try and help you. Sukuna's a brat.

Warnings: amab gn reader(has a dick, but I try to not use gendered pronouns), masturbation, somewhat rough sex to even rougher sex w/ Sukuna, lots of biting, slight degradation? reader teases Yuji about wanting to fuck them, Sukuna is a brat, Yuji is super submissive, nice fluffy ending

Note(s): In this, the rut is essentially a side effect of your curse/cursed technique

Word count: 4.2k

With a huff, you slammed the snooze button on your alarm clock for the who-knows-how-many time - you hadn't been keeping count. Still foggy with sleep, and the side effects of your incoming rut, you didn't really care how late you slept in today. You'd managed to keep your situation a secret from your friends, feeling more comfortable dealing with it on your own. You told them that you were out on a mission, and would lock yourself up in your room until it subsided.

But now you were hungry, late in the evening; the others should be out by now, so you made your way to the kitchen. You took enough food to hold yourself over for a while longer, and it was a good thing too, hearing footsteps as you locked your door behind you.

Fucking hell- You could sense him from here, connected to both Itadori and the curse he hosted. You see, you were also a vessel. You housed the only curse that could rival Sukuna; one who was once his lover when they were human, until she was killed. She resented Sukuna for not trying to save her, but they were still connected to each other whether they liked it or not.

Shaking your head clear of your thoughts, you huddled into your haphazard mess of pillows and blankets. Maybe you could just sleep away your problem.

. . .

"Fuuucck..." You groaned, throwing your blankets off of you as your body was starting to overheat. This was one of the worst ruts you've gone through already, and knowing just how close Itadori's room was to yours certainly wasn't helping. You'd liked the guy for a while, his kind while sometimes a bit childish nature catching your eye. Then combined with your shared memories of Sukuna, thanks to your own curse, you were whipped to say the least.

Stumbling out of your room to get another water bottle to try and cool yourself off some, you froze at the sight of Itadori stumbling down the hallway towards you. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, jumping a little when he finally noticed you.

"H-hey, you're back!" His voice was lower, and scratchy from just waking up. You tried not to think about how else you'd like to hear his voice.

"Yeah... What're you doing up?" Leaned back against the wall, you made sure to keep some distance between the two of you.

Oblivious as ever, he moved to stand right in front of you, laughing a little. "Just getting a midnight snack, what about you?"

Gods he smells good- "Water." You grit out, unable to look at the other. Even in the dim lighting he looks good.

Shuffling back towards your room, you stuff your hands in your pockets. You couldn't be around him for too long; as in control of yourself as you normally are, you didn't trust yourself to not pin the pink-haired male to the wall and-

No, don't even think about it. You don't want to freak him out, you idiot.

"Are you ok? You don't look too good," the good-natured idiot came even closer, trying to look into your eyes. It was hard to see your flushed face in the dark, but he knew you enough by now that he could tell something was wrong.

You had to bite your tongue, not wanting to say anything about your rut, and besides you didn't want to focus on just how close he is, or how you could practically hear his heartbeat- or was that your own?

"'M fine. Just- I'm going back to sleep." You didn't wait for a response, though you could hear him ask about your water, and you quickly closed your door and dropped onto your bed with a heavy sigh.

. . .

"What was that about...?" he wondered aloud, a little worried. You were never really the super upbeat type of person like himself or Nobara, but you seemed grumpier than usual and he didn't like to see you upset. When you two had first met, he could hardly get a word out of you, but that was a long time ago; he hoped something hadn't happened to you, or worse that he'd done something.

Eventually deciding to get his snack, and a water bottle that he left by your door, Yuji went back to his room. He curled up on his bed with whatever he'd grabbed out of the pantry with a sigh. As a mouth formed on his hand, he frowned but waited for Sukuna to speak.

"You can tell something's different about them, can't you?" The curse grinned, knowing something his host didn't.

"Obviously. Why?" Though he'd gotten more used to Sukuna's presence, he still didn't trust him. To be fair, he hasn't given much of a reason to trust him.

Still speaking into the darkened room aloud, Sukuna pulled his memories to the front of his mind and sharing them with Yuji in turn. "You see, the curse your little friend shares a body with," an old memory, but it was clear as day. She had an almost scary resemblance to you. "We were lovers."

Yuji nearly choked on his food, surprised that the King of Curses could have had a lover, let alone said lover now inhabiting the body of his crush. It clicked in his mind after that moment why he always felt so drawn to you, even before the crush on you had developed.

"What happened?" While he didn't know why, he'd known of Sukuna's aversion to the other curse; he'd made it clear from the moment when you and Yuji had met.

"...She died." The curses voice rang in his head, the lips on his hand pursed into a frown. "She died, but even then our bond didn't break. Though she surely hates me now." He huffed and though he acted like he didn't care, Yuji could feel his concern, as strange as it was.

Though he could barely wrap his mind around all this, Sukuna still hasn't told him what was wrong with you. "So why are they so upset?"

At that, the mouth on his hand shifted. "They're going through a rut because of the nature of their curse, and they don't want to get you involved. Some ridiculous self-sacrificing act I'm sure." Yuji opened his mouth to ask what he could do, but Sukuna got there first. "It'll pass on it's own, though it won't be pleasant. There is something you could do though, if you can convince them."

He waited, getting impatient for the curse to get to the answer he was looking for.

"If you fuck, the rut will pass after." The blunt answer made his whole face and neck flush a dark red.

It took a minute to process the idea, letting everything sink in. You were ok, thank goodness, but because of your curse who also happens to be the lover - ex-lover? - of Sukuna, you are going through this rut and if you, his crush, fucked him it would pass. It was a lot to take in, so he decided that he'd sleep on it, then go to you tomorrow night. Obviously you didn't want them to know about this, but if there was something he could do, even if he was a little lot nervous to ask, he wanted to do it.

. . .

You couldn't stop thinking about Yuji. Your heart was pounding, and though it has since calmed down you certainly haven't. He was close enough you could see flecks of red in his eyes, close enough that you could've kissed him. You'd wanted to, that was for sure. But you didn't want to ruin your friendship with him, afraid of any number of things.

The two of you had a rocky start; you knew about him, and being Sukuna's vessel, though he had no idea of your existence until you'd met. With only what you knew about Sukuna, both from other sorcerers and your own curse, you were wary of the boy and didn't stick around him long enough to give him a chance to explain. But eventually, with a little help from Gojo, you two made up and became fast friends, the group often having meals together when no one had a mission.

It took awhile for you to realize what your feelings were on Yuji, simply writing it off as a different brand of friendship. It wasn't until yuji nearly died for a second time, and you weren't there to save him; you were so afraid that you'd never get to see him again, never hug him, never make dinner for the others again, laughing about this or that. You realized that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, and you were afraid you'd miss the chance to tell him.

"You love him." The curse had said. "You're meant for each other. Like soulmates." She'd said, telling you what you were coming to realize yourself.

But you shook your head now, feelings not something you wanted to dwell on as it got later into the night.

Tossing around for a while in the messy sheets on your bed, you finally gave up and threw them off along with a majority of your pajamas, body too hot for comfort. Left in a pair of boxers, you buried your face into your pillow and groaned. Your thoughts drifted for a while between being too hot, sweat still sticking to your skin despite the fan at top speed, and your pink-haired crush.

You've always thought he was attractive, even before you got to know him. His bright smile lighting up any room, an aura of innocence around him. Then his strong physique, though you usually don't see it much between his hoodies and the Jujutsu tech uniform, but man, when you did; you'd like to run your hand over his abs, curious if they feel as strong as they look.

You wanted to touch him in a lot of places, really. His arms, definite muscle, but not too ridiculous like Todo's(Sorry Todo simps). His soft hair, though you've felt it before patting his head, being a bit taller than him and teasing him about it. His thighs, and definitely his ass. And you could only imagine the size of his package.

Biting your lip, you hadn't realized your hand drifting down your body as your thoughts turned, letting out a shaky breath. You'd definitely feel bad about it later, but right now you could only think about your hand being Yuji's as it rubbed against the bulge in your boxers. Flipping onto your back and pulling your underwear to your thighs, you shivered as the cold air hit your skin, sweltering as it was.

Even with your room being fairly soundproof, you kept your voice low, the idea of the object of your thoughts catching you both exciting you and making you anxious. You stroked lazily along the shaft, hips stuttering into your hand the closer to the edge you got. The thought of Yuji crying your name sent you over, dropping your head back as your orgasm washed over you.

After calming your breathing down, you cleaned yourself off. Despite feeling all sweaty, you didn't want to get up. Sighing, you decided you'd shower in the morning after the others left. It didn't take much longer to fall asleep, thankfully.

. . .

You woke up laying half off the bed, even the natural warmth your pile of blankets held getting to be too much during the night. You felt gross. Luckily, you couldn't hear anyone, probably out for lunch, so you could shower in peace.

Leaving your room in just a thin pair of sweatpants and a tank top, your grumbling stomach making your hunger known - you apparently didn't get enough food like you'd thought. You noticed a water bottle beside your door, grinning slightly as you knew who put it there. Shaking your head, you picked it up to bring with you; Yuji would probably try to talk to you when he got back, clearly worried about you. It's cute, but you wished you had a good way to explain your situation without him trying to help.

As much as you would like the idea, you didn't want to make it seem like you just wanted to use him to get through your rut. You wanted him so much more than that, but you couldn't say that, could you.

Quickly grabbing some more snacks, you hid away in your room again, growing tired of your four walls. With your ruts usually lasting around a week, you dreaded having to stay in your room for much longer, but you didn't want to be going on missions in your state.

. . .

The day seemed to go by agonizingly slowly, for the both of you; you in your room with only what you had with you for entertainment, and Yuji waiting anxiously to talk to you. Sukuna had told him earlier that it'd be best to try to talk to you once the others were asleep, as you'd probably be asleep most of the day anyways. That was usually the case, if you could you'd sleep as long as you could to avoid dealing with your body all out of wack.

Finally though, just as you were going to try and go to sleep, a knock sounded at your door. Yuji had to hype himself up to do it, with roundabout encouragement from Sukuna, his thoughts running rampant. 'What if you thought he was weird for asking? What if you got upset with him? What if it ruined your friendship? What if, what if, what if?' He was still fiddling with the hem of his sleeve when you opened your door, a faint look of surprise on your face. You'd started to think you were wrong, that maybe Yuji had forgotten about your interaction the other night or thought he'd dreamed it.

"Hey." You spoke softly, looking him over. He wasn't wearing much, similar to what you had on. He looked good in it.

"H-hey, um, sorry if I woke you, I just kinda wanted to talk?" Yuji smiled, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck.

You sighed, but nodded.

"So, y-you're," he blushed a little more, his cheeks already having been red, thinking about you most of the day - as well as what he planned to ask you. "You're in a rut, right...?"

Eyes widening, you blushed a bit yourself. "How'd you..." Your voice trailed off, confused.

Yuji tapped his cheek, "Sukuna, he told me. So... are you, o-ok?" He still wanted to make sure, even if he knew now what was happening and you confirmed it with your unsaid question.

After a moment, you opened your door wider and nodded your head back. "Y-yeah, just, come in and we can talk." You were careful to sit at the edge of your bed after closing the door behind Yuji. "What all did he tell you?"

"Everything, I think. The rut, the whole lovers thing between them," he gestured between you and himself, "and, um..." He looked away, unable to meet your eyes as he mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear. "The s-sex, thing."

Nodding in turn, you ran a hand back through your hair. "Right. So, why're you here then?" You could apologize for being harsh later, you wanted to make sure you didn't pounce onto him. And fuck the look he makes when he brings his eyes back to yours.

"I wanna help, a-any way I can." His face is completely red, so innocent looking, you bit your lip.

"I appreciate you wanting to help, but I can handle this on my own, Yuji."

You watched as he shuffled closer to you, take a breath and grab one of your hands. He looked into your eyes, so cute.

"Please, I want to help you! S-sukuna told me what it's like when this happens, and if I can help it, I don't want you to have to deal with all that!" Only Yuji could manage to look so sweet and innocent when talking about having you fuck him, even if it was just because of your rut.

He would look even cuter all fucked out, crying for you. You swallowed, looking him over again. You wanted to have your way with him, so badly, but you never wanted to put it on him like that. But... if he's asking you to fuck him. Well, maybe you could have him after all.

"...Are you sure about this, Yuji? I don't want you to do this just for me." But you do, really.

He nods, almost excitedly. To be fair, he'd be lying if he said he hasn't thought about you on top of him, fucking him into the mattress. He wanted you to feel better, and if he got to be with you in the process it was a bonus.

You smirk. "Words, Yuji."

His eyes widen, but he stammers out a soft, "Y-yes."

You bring your free hand to his waist, leaning in a bit closer. "'Yes', what?" Your eyes were darker than usual, clouded with lust, and it made a shiver run down the pink-haired males spine.

"Yes, I- I want to do this."

"Good." You press your lips to his, hungrily running your hand along the contour of his back.

He lets out a little noise as you kiss him, eyes fluttering closed. Fumbling with the hand not holding yours, he finally places it on your shoulder. You could hear his heartbeat, this time sure it was his, though yours was quickly picking up to match it. His lips are so soft, just like the rest of him, a bit of squish to him along with his muscle; you gave in to your wants and felt everything, moving from his back to his arms, down along his chest, squeezing his ass. He yelped at the feeling, and you took the chance to slip your tongue into his mouth.

Submissive through and through, he didn't fight it, but it was clear he didn't quite know what he was doing. But you didn't mind teaching him, spurred on by the little sounds he was making, almost whimpering. Unclasping your hands, he moved his opposite his on your shoulders and you let yours to wander beside the other.

His body was more than you'd imagined, and his sounds were downright sinful. You were just getting started though, pulling his shirt off and pressing not-quite-rough kisses along his jawline and down his neck to his collarbone. You hit a spot that made him whine, and you grinned, kissing and biting there. You could just see his expression from where you sat, pressed into his skin, and it sent heat straight to your core.

Gripping at your back, Yuji pulled you closer, entranced by you. "F-fuck, (y/n)..." His voice was soft, almost shaky as his breath stuttered the longer you nipped at his neck. He tugged at your shirt and you pulled away just long enough to take it off, taking his turn to admire your body.

Leaning forward, you caged your hands around his head, his wrapped around your shoulders. You kissed down his chest, taking off his sweats, surprised to find that he hadn't put any underwear on, and when you looked up at him he had his head turned to the bed.

You hummed, raising a brow at him. "You really wanted to get fucked by me, huh? Ready for me and everything." You lightly traced random shapes on his now bare thighs, watching his cock twitch in response.

Yuji whined, nodding, but kept his face turned away from you. You gripped his chin, turning it back. "Words, remember Yuji?"

He did his best to not just whine again, "Y-yes, yes I want you!"

You just hummed again, "Say it."

This time he did whine, long and drawn out, "Ahh~ I w-want you to f-fuck me! Please!"

You kissed him, muffling his noises, only pulling away when you needed to catch your breath. "Good boy." You didn't give him a chance to respond, wrapping one hand around his length and pressing a finger of the other into his hole. Yuji shuddered, his words cut off by a shaky moan.

It didn't take long before you had three fingers in, with the way he kept begging for more, pawing at your pants. Taking the hint, you stripped down, your own dick mostly untouched now very hard. You look at him, making sure he still wanted this. He nodded, muttering 'please's under his breath between moans.

You kept stroking his weeping cock as you pressed into him, until you bottomed out and you let him rest for a moment and get used to you inside him. He surprised you, rutting his hips into yours as his head dropped against the bed, body quivering under you.

"Fuck, fuck me, fuck me-e p-please!" Yuji whimpered, words punctuated as he grinded against you. You were right, he looked so pretty when he was whimpering and moaning for you.

Something in his voice made whatever restraint you'd been holding onto snap, thrusting into him at a merciless pace, though he didn't seem to mind, moans rising in volume and pitch. His eyes rolled back, and all you could hear besides his moans were broken pleads and your name. You had your head in the crook of his neck, and you growled, going from nips and kisses to biting, leaving large hickeys in your wake.

"I- I'm g-gonna- F-fuuu-uuu-ck-" The loudest moan he'd made throughout the night interrupted him, hips stuttering as he came, painting his stomach white. You came not long after, his body clenching around you so well. You were both panting, at some point Yuji had wrapped his legs around your waist, and you slowed to a stop still inside of him.

You pulled away to make sure he wasn't hurt, and you stopped when you saw tattoos that hadn't been there a moment ago. They must've switched accidentally, if the faintly confused look was anything to go by. But when the curse started bucking his hips, you growled.

"C-come on, I know you can take me too," he taunted, but the effect didn't work as well as he wanted when his voice was so broken and he moaned when you hit that one spot.

You huffed, but you grinned. "Who knew the king of curses was a fucking brat?" Thrusting once to make a point, he shuddered, still full of you. "At least I won't mind if I rough you up a bit."

Sukuna chuckled, sharp nails digging a little more into your shoulders. "You c-couldn't break me if you tried."

With that, you started up that same rough pace, smacking his ass. It was almost strange, not quite muscle memory leading you, moving to make him cry out the most. It was still Yuji's body, but with Sukuna in control, it snapped something into place between both of you.

'Soulmates'. You were brought together like this for a reason.

He kept trying to taunt you, but his words would always break away into a whine when you bit in just the right spot, or you'd smack him a little harder. Finally, he couldn't speak anymore than moan, pulling himself into you as he clawed at your back and shoulders. His voice broke as he came again, nearly crying as you sped up even more as you got close to finishing. You bit into his neck as you came, riding it out, slowing down to a stop for the second time.

"Satisfied now?" You taunt, and he whines.

Slowly pulling out, both of you moaning at the loss, though he was much louder, you relaxed. Yuji switches back after a moment, shuddering at the feeling of your cum leaking out of his hole. You sigh, standing to go run a bath for the both of you, letting Yuji know before he closes his eyes just in case he falls asleep in the meantime. He nods, so you know he heard you.

. . .

You ended up curling up next to each other, wearing some of your clothes, after you pulled off the dirty sheets. As the sunlight streamed through your window, you woke to your arm wrapped around Yuji's side. It was a peaceful scene compared to last night, though you definitely enjoyed yourselves.

"mm... Morning." Yuji looked up at you, a small smile on his lips.

You hum. "Morning. You alright?" He chuckles.

"I should be asking you that. But yeah. 'Lil sore, but yeah."

Nodding, you grin in turn. He probably won't be walking straight for a little while. "Good... Thank you, for helping with- this." You frown a bit, gesturing to yourself. He cups your cheek, waiting for a moment before smiling wider.

"'Course. I wanted you to feel better," he blushes a bit. "Aaand I might've been wanting you to- f-fuck me for a while..." His voice trails off at the end, pulling away nervously. But you pull him closer.

"I'm glad, cause I've been wanting to fuck you for a while too. Probably cause I like you. A lot."

He grins. "Me too."

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #writing #my writing #itadori yūji #yuji x reader #sub!yuji #sub yuji #yuuji x reader #sub!sukuna #sub sukuna #dom!reader #dom reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut

[andypantsx3]

say the word and you know i’ll follow

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 3,262 words

summary: While moving in with Shouto, you get caught up reliving the scene of his confession. Quite literally.

(A smutty oneshot sequel to my fic if i could keep cool.)

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, smut

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, cunnilingus, light bondage

notes: Also cross-posted on my AO3! The manga really has me all in my Todo feels rn but I don't wanna write a whole other fic before I finish the Hawks one, so please have this fluffy smutty one shot as a compromise. It likely won’t make sense unless you’ve read if i could keep cool first, so please check it out if you have the time!

It was sweltering when you stepped outside to make your way to Shouto’s apartment.

A thin film of sweat immediately began to build wherever your skin pressed against the box you carried, and the sun beat down furiously on the crown of your head. You instantly started to second guess your choice to take the train, wondering how dumb of a move it had been to decline an alternative means of transit. It was going to be like being packed into a sardine can and roasted over a hot stove.

Shouto had offered to send an agency car, but there were only so many more times you were going to make the trip from your crumbling student apartment to his place, and you had wanted to make the most of it. You didn’t even really need to bring boxes over just yet--as Shouto had hired a moving company to take care of everything next week--but you didn’t want to lose anything that was inside this one. This one held all your most treasured items--keepsakes from your friends, a pressed white tulip, and all the gifts Shouto had ever given you (minus, of course, the vegetables).

Steeling yourself for an uncomfortable twenty minutes, you set off towards the station, weaving through the tired crowds of people who looked just as sun-weary as you. Thankfully, with a hat over your face and a box you could shift to obscure your features, very few people seemed to recognize you as you did so.

A lot of the media attention surrounding your mishap a year ago had died down, and you had been good about keeping your relationship mostly private, so you weren’t exactly a household name to most people. But there were enough twitter-savvy teens and meme-literate college students that you were sometimes recognized as you went about your daily life.

This time, you were only eyed curiously by one pair of teenage girls as they bundled into the train car across from you, but they didn’t say anything to you, didn’t ask you to reenact the most embarrassing five seconds of your entire life into their phones, as many often did. The box hid you from the rest of the train car, and no one else seemed to take interest in your presence.

After exiting the train at downtown, you made it to Shouto’s building in record time, all but rocket-fueled by your desire to get out of the hot sun. The security team in the lobby of his building gave you friendly nods as you passed, one of them graciously pressing the button for the elevator so you didn’t have to fumble around your box.

You thanked her, making your way into the elevator and elbowing the button for Shouto’s floor. The elevator was even cooler than the lobby, and you shivered in delight as the frigid chill of air conditioning washed over you. God, this building was so fucking nice compared to yours. You were going to be spoiled as fuck once you lived here.

You made it to Shouto’s floor without incident, though digging in your bag for your keys was impossible at the moment, so you knocked on his door as firmly as you could manage with the box still balanced in your arms.

There were a few seconds of silence. Then, the door swung open and Shouto stood there, grinning at you.

His hair still looked a little damp from a recent shower, and he was wearing a dark button up over a soft tee shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He looked unbearably good, as boyishly handsome as ever, and your heart gave an embarrassing little stutter, like it always did whenever you saw him. You suspected it was always going to be like that, no matter how long the two of you had been dating.

Shouto’s eyebrows went up as he considered the box in your arms. That heterochromatic gaze picked over you curiously, expression going carefully blank, like it typically did when he was up to some mischief. And then, after a long moment, he spoke.

“You’re not wearing the scarf,” he said, sounding upset.

You stared up at him, feeling your brow wrinkle. The scarf? It was fucking summer, and the scarf was neatly tucked away in the box you were holding. It was literally boiling hot just outside the well-air conditioned hallways of his building. Why on earth did he think you would be wearing--

You inhaled a little sharply when the answer hit you.

The scarf.

The scarf was the first thing he had mentioned the day he had finally confessed to you. Well, after you had confessed first, really, on national television earlier that week, that you were thirsty as hell for him and were also really bad at picking up subtle clues. Or overt clues. Or any clues, honestly.

But now you were standing in his hallway with a box again, and he was clearly remembering what had happened the last time you had done so.

You wracked your brain for what you had said to him in reply that day, trying to hone in on the words past the sudden swell of embarrassment.

“Uh, it’s in here,” you finally replied, gesturing to the box.

That grey and blue gaze dropped to the parcel in your arms, then flickered up to your face. You pushed the box at him, the way you had the day he’d confessed, feeling just as squirmish as you had then.

What else had you said to him? Something very watery and over dramatic, likely. Something like...

“It’s all, um, there--if you wanted to check,” you said. “Except for the vegetables obviously. But I can pay you back, if you give me a couple months.”

Shouto was clearly suppressing a smirk as he feigned curiosity. “Pay me….what?”

You suppressed your own absurd laugh, wondering how far down mortifying memory lane he wanted to go.

“I also wrote down a recommendation for a new cleaning lady, if you want,” you said, patting the top of the box. “It’s in there. Her name’s Mika, she’s super nice. And I can message you or your manager when I have the money. Just let me know which one you’d prefer. Or I can have Mika drop it off.”

Shouto gripped the box, then, long, elegant fingers pulling back the flaps for him to peer inside. He looked absolutely delighted to find the scarf actually within. In one fluid movement, he pulled the scarf out, depositing the box behind him, and turned back to grab your sleeve, pulling you quickly into the apartment with him.

“Okay, what are you doing with the scarf this time?” you laughed, breaking character.

One white eyebrow went up as Shouto gripped your wrist firmly, eyeing you closely as he pulled off your baseball cap.

“Mm,” he hummed absently in his deep tone. “Something I should have done the first time.” He caught your other wrist, pressing it into the sinfully soft fabric of your favorite accessory.

You looked at him, bewildered, feeling your mouth twist into a slight frown. You rather liked the way things had gone the first time around, considering that you had ended up with a boyfriend at the end of it all. What was his bone to pick with the first time around?

“Uh, if I’m recalling correctly, the first time went great,” you said to him. “Like, really really great. Christening your countertops several different times great.”

There was a flash of white teeth as Shouto grinned.

“Ah, but I missed an opportunity,” he said. A soft sensation slid over your other wrist, and you looked down in confusion.

Then it hit you what he was up to, and your face instantly went up in flames.

A firm tug had your wrists knotted together, and Shouto smirked down at you, tugging you closer by the silky fabric of your scarf. Your stomach swooped at the intent look in his eye.

“I had been upset you weren’t wearing the scarf,” he said. “But there was an easy way to fix that.”

You swallowed heavily, your tongue feeling strangely thick. Your brain was suddenly, but predictably, very very empty.

“Y-yeah. But technically you, um. You did fix it,” you babbled helplessly, limbs growing shivery with static as Shouto pressed closer. He was so warm, and he was so stupidly handsome.

“I’ve, uh, worn it a lot since,” you managed.

Shouto considered you quietly, a familiar, wry little smile pressing at the corner of his mouth.

Before you’d started dating, you’d been confused as hell by that expression, suspecting it meant he was bewildered by your very existence but was too polite to say so. After just over a year together, however, you had learned that was just what his face did when he thought you were being unreasonably appealing. Which, mystifyingly, was mostly when the working part of your brain disconnected from your mouth.

You scrounged around for other coherent words, thoughts thick and sluggish, like you were thinking through pudding.

Shouto, however, was merciful, putting an end to your suffering by leaning down and taking your mouth with his.

All the coherent thought you’d managed to dredge up melted away like frost under the morning sun. You pressed yourself closer to him, leaning up to give him better access to your mouth. Shouto kissed you as stupid as he always did before a hot hand came up to cup your face, thumb sliding over your cheek affectionately.

“It seems I’ve got you in the scarf as I had wanted,” Shouto said quietly, once he let you up for air. “But now I find that the scarf is all I want you in.”

You opened your mouth to respond, though what you might have said was as much a mystery to you as anyone. But all that managed to come out was a choked, breathy little noise.

Shouto laughed.

Then there were large hands on your waist, and the next thing you knew, you were staring down at the wood paneling of Shouto’s floor as it moved underneath you. Shouto adjusted you over his shoulder briefly, and then he was charting a brisk course to his bedroom, depositing you like an errant pillow back onto his sheets.

Your cheeks burned as he crawled over you, gaze hot and searching.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked.

You nodded vehemently, eyes pulled to the little flat sliver of his abs where his shirt had ridden up.

“Good, yeah, I’m so good,” you managed to garble out. You were going to be so embarrassed about this later, but as usual when it came to him, you really couldn’t help it. If you’d learned anything in the year you’d been together, it was that you would always have the world’s fattest crush on Shouto Todoroki.

Strong fingers came up to grasp your chin, tipping your face up for another searing kiss. You managed to loop your bound arms over the back of Shouto’s neck, tangling your fingers in his soft hair and pulling him down to you more firmly.

Shouto flattened himself against you, so that you could feel every strong plane of his body, every hard muscle. You shuddered, and you could feel Shouto smirk against your mouth.

“Like that, do you?” he asked, hands pulling at your shirt. You wiggled so that he could pull it out from under you, sliding it up to rest just below the scarf. In the next second he’d also gotten you out of your pants, so that you were mostly bare to him in the cool apartment air.

Shouto looked you over for a moment, looking like he still couldn’t believe you existed. “Having you over the countertops was something that I wouldn’t change. Something that I won’t change, once you move in.”

Your face went hot and you squirmed underneath him.

“However,” he said softly, “I believe I would have liked to have been more deliberate with you. Taken my time with you,” he paused. “Perhaps...I might have made you come once for every photo of me on your twitter.”

The tips of your ears went hot. Jesus Christ, he couldn’t be serious.

You had deleted that twitter over a year ago, and though he’d apparently been allowed access to the contents by his manager (rude) there was absolutely no way he could remember how many pictures of him you’d retweeted. You’d been the one doing the retweeting, and even you didn’t remember, though you thought the number was probably embarrassingly high.

“There was like, one,” you squeaked out.

Shouto’s smile went dark and he leaned over you, his perfect, infuriating mouth so close he might have kissed you again.

“Thirteen,” he said, mouth brushing yours as he spoke. “There were thirteen photos of me on your twitter. All while you tried so hard to act like you didn’t want me, that you wanted to be just friends.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to be my friend,” you protested. You jerked when his hand slid up your side to cup a breast, thumb slipping under the band of your bra.

“You weren’t accepting my gifts,” he said, fingers grazing your nipple. You bit down on an embarrassing noise, letting out a sharp breath. “How else was I to make you take them?”

You opened your mouth to respond but Shouto made another pass over your nipple, and a moan escaped you instead.

“That’s right, love,” he said encouragingly. “Now I’m going to make you give me something in return. Thirteen somethings, in fact.”

He peeled down the cup of your bra, fastening his hot mouth over your breast. You whined, twitching when he flattened his tongue, dragging it slowly over the point of your nipple. A strong arm came up to press your hands down over your head.

“Shouto, thirteen is insane,” you panted.

He paid you no mind, instead swirling his tongue in a way that made your vision blur.

A tugging at your wrists made you look up, in time to see Shouto one-handedly looping the long end of the scarf through the slats on his headboard and pulling tight. Your whole body clenched up at the implication.

The slide of fabric over your breasts told you that Shouto had also managed to get your bra up, and hot mouth closed over your other nipple, long fingers carefully plucking at the other. “We have all weekend, love. Thirteen is ambitious but quite possible.”

You made a weak noise of acknowledgement, hips shifting forward against his stomach.

Shouto laughed, hot breath ghosting over your breast, and then he was crawling down your torso, hands grasping your underwear. He pulled it down slowly, torturously, until he managed to get it off you, then pulled your knee over his shoulder.

You whimpered, feeling like you might actually pass out from how hot he looked, one thigh thrown carelessly over his shoulder, gaze intent, staring down at you like a starving man looking at a hot meal.

You squirmed, trying to pull your arms down to get your hands on him, but the scarf held fast, pulling more firmly over your wrists.

“Shouto, please,” you said, though whether you were begging for him to touch you or to let you go, even you didn’t know.

Shouto seemed to take it as permission. Those two-toned eyes passed over you hotly, and then he was leaning down, biting down gently on the inside of your thigh. You jerked violently, but he held you in place, mouth trailing slowly, slowly down to where you wanted him.

You thought you might actually black out before he got where he was going.

“I can’t believe I ever told you you were unwelcome in my apartment,” he murmured, sucking a slow bruise into the skin at the crease of your thigh. “Once you move in, I’m never going to let you leave it.”

“Oh my god,” you said.

Shouto’s tongue flicked out, catching the edge of your sex, and you tried not to choke on air.

Then, finally, he moved, fastening his mouth over you, exactly where you wanted him. All reason completely left you.

After that, everything was an unbearable flurry of feeling--a soft tongue swirling over you, the tickle of his bangs on your stomach, the press of broad shoulders between your knees. There was the rasp of his sheets between your shoulder blades, the slow, deliberate press of two fingers inside of you, a firm grip on your thigh, fingers digging in tightly.

You could feel every point of connection with him, every minute movement of his mouth over you, and the sensation built up into something so horribly, terribly good. You were unable to do anything but writhe and pant underneath him, babbling something that sounded like it might be an approximation of his name.

Shouto hummed and sucked softly, those long fingers curling inside you. He finally hit a spot that made you see stars, and you practically lifted off the bed, back bowing. Shouto licked you through it, tongue curling expertly around your clit while you sobbed out his name, only slowing when your body went slack, collapsing back into his sheets.

When you could see straight once more, you realized he was staring up at you, that wry smile curling the corner of his mouth again.

You fought down a blush, feeling an embarrassed grin pull at the corner of your own mouth.

“You’re unreal,” you said. “I can’t believe I’m going to get to have you all the time.”

Shouto pressed a short kiss to the skin of your hip. “You already have me all the time.”

You flapped a hand in its bindings. “You know what I mean. I can’t believe we’re going to live together.”

His fingers slid gently over the back of your thigh. “I’d have had you in here sooner, if you hadn’t insisted on graduating first.”

You laughed. He was always so very straightforward about whatever he wanted.

He had been making very unsubtle noises about living together only a few months into your relationship, but you’d insisted that you wait at least a year. He’d grown up with more conservative mores, having been raised a rich boy, and taking things quickly once he knew he was serious about you seemed to be the style of things. But you, despite your frankly unreasonable thirst for your own boyfriend, knew the value of taking things just a little bit slower.

So you’d waited a year, just to be prudent, though you’d known all along how things would end up.

And now he finally had his way.

“I’m all yours now,” you promised, laughing. “Soon you’ll be sick of me hogging the bed, and leaving books everywhere, and getting so blackout at the farmer’s market that we don’t have room for all the vegetables.”

“Ah, you’re using me for vegetable access,” he accused, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the smile he was attempting to smother into your thigh.

“A girl’s gotta have her priorities,” you grinned.

Something lit up in Shouto’s gaze again, and he shifted up against your thigh to lean over you more fully. His fingers gripped the back of your knee tightly.

“I'll make you pay for that,” he promised darkly. “Twelve more times.”

You shivered as he took your mouth again, fingers sliding back between your thighs with obvious intent.

And then you really did. You paid for it.

Twelve more times.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto todoroki #bnha fanfic #bnha #smut #fluff #bnha x reader

[hihellogoodbyebruh]

Stingy

Pairing: Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes x Black!OC

Summary: EZ has a problem sharing and his girl, Monique is quite over it.

Warning(s): Some angst with a fluff ending

Word count: 2,552

AN: Ahhhh my first EZ fic. Based on a request I received from the lovely @ly--canthrope with an assist coming from Ginuwine’s Stingy. Thank YOU so much for your patience and encouraging words. I hope you enjoy this xo

You can say I'm tripping but I'm stingy And I can't hide it Wanna keep you all to me I'm selfish, why try to fight it?

An abandoned episode of Girlfriends played on the tv in the background as a woman sat straddling EZ’s lap as the two made out. His hands were rubbing up and down her sides under her shirt and her hands were gripping his face. One of her favorite things to do was kiss her boyfriend. She loved that they could just get lost in each other and it was the perfect opener for the mindblowing sex that was coming.

The familiar ringtone and buzz from her phone’s vibration echoed against the coffee table as she received a text message. She pulled away from the kiss and turned her head, trying to see if she could read the message from her position. She felt EZ stiffen, his hands moving down her hips to grip her thigh.

“I swear to God, Monique.” EZ began, feeling himself become annoyed. He can’t even enjoy her company at home without being interrupted. He’s tried so hard to be understanding, but that selfish part of him was fed up. The opening of Galindo’s company really put into perspective how often he misses time with her.

As Miguel’s assistant she had a very big hand in putting the opening celebration together. She’d been Miguel’s assistant for a couple years now. Her mother was a close confidante to Dita before she passed away. Dita wanted to keep an eye on her so she asked Miguel to give her a job. She was fantastic at keeping things organized and she already knew about the other side of business. 

Working for Miguel was great because though some would hate being an assistant, he actually gave her a lot of responsibility. She was often put in charge of events while making sure everything in his life runs smoothly, at least on the legal side of things.She was so proud of her work tonight but she hardly had time to celebrate until she saw her man walking through the door.

She’d been with EZ, Ezekiel as she liked to call him because she loved his full name, for a little over a year. It was the best relationship she’d ever been in. He was kind, honest, caring, and oh so very fine.

She ended her current conversation before strutting over to Ezekiel, her arms immediately going around his neck. “Hi baby. I’m so happy you’re here.” She kissed his lips.

EZ loved seeing his girl in her element. She was very much out of his league in his mind and he felt lucky every day he woke up to her. “Hey beautiful.” He greeted her, hands resting on her lower back and pulling her close to him. “I see all your hard work has paid off.”

“It really has. Things couldn’t be going better. Especially now that you’re here.” She grinned at him.

“Oh yeah? You’re happy to see me?” He teased, smiling back so she kissed him again.

The two of them engaged in some conversation and heavy flirting before they were interrupted by her boss.

“Monique, I need you for a second…” Miguel announced, no time for pleasantries. He was always about his business. She could respect it but it was also annoying because he could have greeted Ezekiel

“Oh hi Miguel. We weren’t having a conversation or anything.” She sarcastically replied, giving her boss a look.

“Reyes..” Miguel acknowledged her boyfriend with a barely noticeable head nod before bringing his attention back to her. “You’ve put in the most face time with the Castillos and the lovely matriarch has requested your presence. We don’t want to keep them waiting, verdant?”

EZ rolled his eyes at Miguel but didn’t say anything. He was used to Miguel’s shit and honestly he didn’t like him either so the less they communicated the better.

The Castillos were a very important family that have entered into an arrangement with Galindo enterprises both on the legitimate and illegitimate side of business. It was already fragile so she wanted to keep everything on the up and up.

She retreated from EZ’s arms without a second thought. “Is everything alright? When we went over the final documents she didn’t bring anything up.” She began walking alongside Miguel but stopped in her tracks.

“I’ll be right back.” She walked back over to EZ and planted a distracted kiss on his cheek. 

He mustered up a slight smile and then she was gone. 

She didn’t come back until the end of the night.

She sighed, pushing her way out of his lap and snatching up her phone once she stood up. “He’s my boss, Ezekiel. You have got to let this thing with Miguel go. Enough is enough.”

“He just does this to piss me off.” And it worked. He wanted to have her all to himself, but he couldn’t do that with Galindo constantly texting her and having her work long hours. At this point it felt she was the one singlehandedly keeping his businesses afloat.

“So stop letting it piss you off.” She replied, like it was the easiest thing and to her it was. 

He shot up from his seat and exasperatedly asked, “Why do you always defend him?”

“Because you’re being ridiculous. You knew who I worked for when we started dating.” She was annoyed they were even having this argument. Her attention was focused on her phone as she replied to Miguel with the information he needed.

EZ grew even more irritated that even in an argument he couldn’t have her whole attention. “What could he possibly need from you at 2 in the morning? Hm?” He snatched the phone from her hand.

“Are you out of your mind? Give me my phone back!” She gasped, shocked at his audacity. She and Ezekiel had been together for awhile now and he’s never acted this way. He’s never lost his temper with her. “Things happen. Emergencies. I never say anything when you have an emergency with the MC.”

“Bishop doesn’t text all hours of the night. Bishop doesn’t hate you and try to disrespect our relationship at every turn. And quite frankly, Bishop isn’t a woman so it’s not the same at all.” Ez snapped, his voice getting louder.

“And just what the fuck are you implying, EZ?” There was a clear warning in her tone of voice as she matched his volume. Now they both were yelling at each other. She never called him EZ either. Always preferring to call him Ezekiel.

He knew he should have backed down and cooled off but he was beyond tired of this shit. The angry words slipped outta his mouth before he could stop them. “I’m just wondering what all the late nights are really about. If I’m dating Miguel’s side piece just tell me!”

That was a mistake. Yelling was a mistake. Saying those words was a mistake. He knew it the moment he saw tears form in her eyes. 

“Excuse me?” She whispered, voice slightly cracking. How dare he call her a cheater! He officially has lost his mind.

Ezekiel felt his heart drop into his stomach when he heard the hurt in her voice. It went too far. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, mariposa.” He started to walk closer to her, but she stepped back from him.

“This has nothing to do with me. Or us. This is you and Miguel continuing to have a dick measuring contest. Th-this all goes back to Emily.” The name rolled off her tongue with mild resentment. The two never had a bad run in with each other, but all the stories about Emily and EZ’s past relationship and how she was the love of his life always made Monique get defensive.

“That’s not true.” EZ refuted, but she interrupted him before he could further explain.

“Yes it is!  And if somehow it’s not then we got some serious problems baby.” She just shook her head at him before demanding, “Get out.” 

You're the only one, you're the only love That's strong enough to claim me So please forgive me I'm just stingy But how can you blame me?

It’s been two weeks since the fight with Ezekiel and Monique was really missing him. She was mad that he would be such a dumbass, but she still just wanted to be laying back on the couch with him watching tv.

Miguel watched as she pushed her salad around her plate, clearly not hungry. “Todo bien hermanita?” He asked, watching as she finally brought her eyes up to meet his. This was the quietest lunch the two ever had. Usually she was talking a mile a minute.

She smiled a little at the nickname. He only called her that when he was concerned or when he really wanted something. Truth is, the two had a sibling kind of relationship. She just wished EZ had seen and understood it. “I’m fine. Not really hungry.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, taking a sip of his drink. “Nestor and I had a meeting with the Mayans yesterday. Saw your novio and he looked like shit.” Miguel casually mentions and she tries to act nonchalant even as her heart races at the mention of a certain biker. “Imagine my surprise when he asked to pull me aside for a chat.”

“What!” She gasped loudly, jaw dropping.

“I’m sure you could guess what we spoke about.”

“Miguel…” She was ready to apologize to him for whatever accusations were thrown his way.

“I know I’m very demanding. It’s part of who I am. I demand a lot from myself and from those around me, especially those closest to me. That includes you, hermanita. But I don’t want to be the reason for your unhappiness. Even if it is with Reyes..” There was only mild disgust in his tone and she took that as an improvement.

“It’s not your fault he doesn’t trust me, hermano.” She sighed.

“He is crazy about you, you know that right?”

Monique went to answer, but Miguel stood up from his seat. He grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the chair and walked over to her, pushing down gently on her shoulders to keep her from getting up. He leans down and whispers “If in the end, you don’t want him and he won’t take the hint you let me know. He can visit my pew.” 

She jerked her head back to give him a stern look, hating when he brought up that damn pew. He just kissed her head and walked away. She sat there dumbfounded for a second. “Wait, what-” She turned her head to call out to Miguel but her voice caught in her throat as she spotted Ezekiel right behind her. He walked over and took the seat Miguel was just in.

It was silent before she decided to break it. “You and Miguel working together? Hell must have frozen over.”

He cracks a grin at that. “Ha. Guess you could say we’ve called a truce. At least when it comes to a certain beautiful woman.”

“Calling a truce with my ‘side piece’? I’m sure Emily appreciates it.” She sarcastically replied, making him sigh in reply. 

“I never should have said that. I was pissed off and being a sarcastic asshole. This never had anything to do with Emily. Yes we have history, but I don’t think about that anymore. I haven’t for a long time.” Monique looked down, wanting to believe him but having a hard time doing it. “I think about you. I think about you when we’re apart, I think about when I’ll see you again, I think about our future when you’re in my arms. You’re never not on my mind.”

His words make her want to smile, but she wasn’t done. “Then what’s been going on with us lately? Anytime I answer a call or text from Miguel you’re huffing and puffing. You sit there literally pouting like a 3 year old every time I have to do something for work. What’s the problem?”

“First, I don’t pout.” She started to disagree but he loudly continued, earning a playful glare from her. “SECONDLY, I know you’re an independent woman out here making it on your own and shit. I know it’s just been you and your job for a long time. But now you got me, mariposa. I’m here by your side and I like spending time with you. I like the quiet moments at home and our nights out. I want more of them. You work so much and you forget about everything else. Me included.”

“What do you mean I forget you? I don’t forget you.”

“Galindo Enterprises.”

“What are...Oh-” Her face completely dropped as she remembered the night. She got pulled away by Miguel and never went back to Ezekiel. She didn’t mean to, but she ended up checking on other things with the party and even though it hurts to admit she did forget about him. “Oh baby…” She held one of his hands that was on the table between both of hers.

“I’ve never been the one to cling and I don’t like to be needy but you’ve changed me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I love being in your presence. Maybe I am kind of a baby, but I think wanting your attention is a good sign for a relationship. I’m not asking you to quit your job, but some boundaries would be nice. ”

She felt so bad. He was absolutely right. She had been alone for a long time. She wasn’t used to sharing her life with someone else. An adjustment was obviously needed. “I never meant to make you feel like I wanted anyone or anything more than you. Or that I cared about those things more. I promise that I will work on communicating more with you and not just doing what I want with no consideration for you.” 

He nodded his head, but she had to add one more thing. “You do need to know that sometimes just like you can’t help getting called away the same goes for me. But I’ll talk with Miguel and we’ll work out something that works for us all. I can’t believe I didn’t realize. I’m so-”

Ezekiel cut her off before she could begin criticizing herself. “So amazing, captivating, elevating,” after every word, EZ placed a kiss on the palm of her hand. “Anyway you put it I’m happy to be your man.”

“I’m still salty at you insinuating I was sleeping with Miguel.” She declared, causing him to nod with a sad look on his face.

“How can I make it up to you, mariposa?”

“Hmm…” She pretended to think when she already knew what she wanted. She leaned forward and beckoned him closer with a wiggle of her finger. She whispered in his ear, “I wanna ride you with only your kutte on until you lose your mind.” She lightly bit his ear lobe.

She busted out laughing at how fast he scrambled out of his seat and took her hand, pulling her behind him as he hustled out of the restaurant.

#ez reyes #black!reader #black!oc #ezekiel reyes #hhgbyebruh fics #ez reyes x black!reader #stingy

[nocturnal-milk-dud]

Man Made of Stone: Chapter Five

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Pairing: Horacio Carrillo x Reader (it gets complicated)

Summary: “We have to get him to a hospital.”

Rating: R

Warnings/notes: Canon-typical violence; death; implied death; swearing; smoking; alcohol consumption; inebriation; angst; some smooches; once again, I know nothing about medicine, I’m just doing my best; special shoutout to my mom who answered a bunch of my questions like a champ and only laughed at me once; I also don’t write action very often, so bear with me; once again, if you’d like to be added to the taglist please let me know, and if I missed you please let me know--I’m still having trouble tagging some people

Word Count: 2558

Infection.

A word you dreaded. A word you could barely get your lips around. Since Carrillo had been brought through your door his eyes had opened once, disoriented and searching, reminding you of the officer in the street. Now, his skin was on fire, his breathing rapid and shallow. It was the gunshot wound to his abdomen. You pulled Javier aside.

“We have to get him to a hospital,” you said. 

“What about antibiotics?” he asked. “Can you get some from the clinic?”

“They won’t do any good with that bullet still in there. He needs a surgeon.” Javier passed a hand over his face and shifted, looking at Trujillo and Murphy. 

“Okay, okay,” he said. He went over and spoke in hushed tones to Trujillo, and you turned your attention back to Carrillo. You pressed a damp cloth over his forehead and timed his rapid pulse. 

“Trujillo’s going to contact a small group of men from the search bloc and have them meet us here,” Javier said, joining you at your side. “We’ll take him to the nearest hospital while you and Murphy wait here. I’ll contact you once he’s safe.” 

“No,” you said, getting to your feet, “I’m going with you.” Javier sighed and you watched the lines appear between his eyebrows. He started to protest, but you interrupted him.

“I’m going,” you said, your tone final. Javier shifted his weight and shook his head, his lips disappearing for a moment as his jaw worked. Finally, he looked at you, his eyes tight, face stern.

“Fine, but you do whatever I say,” he said, pointing at you. You nodded and he walked away. 

You followed behind as Carrillo was carried down the stairs and out to the black Ford truck sitting at the curb. Four officers in plainclothes had arrived in another vehicle and they kept watch until the five of you were safely packed away. Your heart pounded in your ears as Javier passed through the dark streets, the other truck following close behind. Everything was too quiet, too still. Carrillo was propped between you and Trujillo in the backseat, his head on your shoulder, your arm around him. Your eyes never stopped moving. How could the world be so quiet? 

Shots shattered the night and you covered Carrillo’s body with your own, huddled awkwardly in the tight space. Javier swore and you peered over the back of your seat. The windshield of the tailing truck was splintered and the tires were shot out. Smoke billowed out from the hood. It had come to a stop several yards back, and the distance grew as Javier laid his foot on the gas. 

“Are any of them still alive?” you asked, even though you knew no one could answer. No one did because several gunshots sounded and the back window was gone. You heard Trujillo return fire. 

“Get us the fuck out of here, Javi,” Murphy said.

“What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do?” Javier growled through gritted teeth. You glanced up between the front seats and you could see the hospital in the distance just before Javier took a sharp left turn, careening down a narrow alley, knocking away a side mirror. As he neared the end of the alley, a motorcycle flew out in front of him and the rider littered the hood of the truck with bullet holes. Javier slammed on the brakes, throwing his arms up in front of his face, and ducked down as bullets peppered holes in the windshield. 

Everything was still then, everything quiet. 

“Everybody okay?” Javier asked, his voice ragged, breathless. Everyone responded. 

“What do we do now?” Murphy asked after a moment. Trujillo helped you get Carrillo into a sitting position. He was still alive, but he wouldn’t be for much longer if he didn’t get to the hospital. Javier looked back at you.

“If we don’t get him to the hospital he’s going to die,” you said. He sighed deeply and looked at Murphy, who shrugged. 

“They might think we’re dead,” he offered. Javier let out a dry chuckle and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Whatever,” you said. “Let me out.” Murphy looked from you to Trujillo to Javier. 

“Let me out!” you ordered. Murphy shoved open his door, shattered glass clinking on the ground. You hooked your arms under Carrillo’s and began hauling him out of the truck. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Javier asked. 

“I’m going to get him help. If that means dying I don’t give a fuck,” you said. Javier swore and got out of the truck, hesitating for a moment when his eyes fell on the bullet holes in his headrest. He came around to the other side, helping Murphy shoulder Carrillo. Trujillo stood at your side. 

“Take this,” Javier said, handing you his gun. “Trujillo will take point, you follow behind us, watch our backs. Do not hesitate, you understand?” You gave him a single nod. Trujillo led the four of you out of the alley and up the street, heading back towards the hospital. It was in sight again and you felt a glimmer of hope. The street you were on opened up to an intersection and as Trujillo came upon it, a man popped up from behind a car parked on the road running perpendicular to the one you were on. He fired off a shot at Trujillo and the man pressed himself up against the wall of the building on the corner, waving at the four of you to move over to the left. Trujillo returned fire, and as he did you saw another man weaving through the parked cars to the right. You heard a grunt as a shot connected with Trujillo’s opponent and you fired as the other man straightened to take aim, hitting him in his side. Javier looked over his shoulder at you and you raised your eyebrows at him, mouthing the word “go”. 

To your surprise, the street was clear the rest of the way to the hospital. When you arrived in the emergency room, Carrillo was whisked away and you were left standing there, gun in your hand, feeling lost. Trujillo called more search bloc members to meet him at the hospital to protect their Colonel, and when he hung up the phone he walked over to you, taking your hand in his.

“Muchas gracias...por todo,” he said. You nodded and stepped away, wanting to speak to a doctor. 

“We need to find someone who can talk to us about Carrillo,” you said to Javier. 

“They just got him in, it’s gonna take some time, you know that.” He carefully slid his gun out of your hand, returning it to the waistband of his jeans. “Just have a seat, relax.” You didn’t, couldn’t. Instead you went outside where you found Murphy smoking a cigarette. He offered you one and you took it, the both of you smoking in silence. 

“The infection developed into sepsis.” The doctor spoke in sharply accented English, and your heart collapsed at the words. You and Javier were sitting in his office, the door closed to the rest of the world. “We’ll need to operate, but we can’t do that safely until the infection is treated. Unfortunately, the sepsis has progressed rapidly, not to the point of shock, but he is in a dangerous place. These next twenty-four hours are going to be crucial.” He spoke calmly, in a reassuring tone, though his words were not reassuring. You tried to absorb it, his calmness, but instead you found the fear running away with you. 

“Excuse me,” you whispered, just managing to squeeze the words out of your rapidly tightening throat.  

You stumbled out of the emergency room, past two officers smoking by the entryway. You tried to catch your breath, but it was as if the more air you pulled in, the less went to your lungs, and you found yourself gasping. Your chin trembled and you covered your face with your hands as if they could keep you from falling apart. The weight of the knowledge that he could die before he even reached the operating table crushed your heart and you wanted more than anything to be numb. You should never have come here. You should have left when your husband died, instead of following some foolish notion that you could carry on the fight. A useless, stupid fight that had cost so many lives, destroyed so many people. 

The feeling of a hand on your shoulder was like a raw nerve being touched and you recoiled, turning to see that Javier had joined you. Your blood boiled at the sight of him.

“I told you,” you said, barely getting the words out. Your throat was tight and your eyelids brimmed with tears. “I told you to take him to a hospital! Why couldn’t you just listen to me?”

“I’m sorry,” Javier said. There was nothing else he could say.

“No, you don’t get to say a goddamn thing! I told you I couldn’t save him and you didn’t give a fuck! He could die tonight but what the fuck does that matter to you?” Javier’s jaw worked as you spoke and he passed his hand across his mouth, casting his eyes down to the pavement. His other hand rested on his hip. 

“Hey!” he snapped when you finished speaking, his tone making you flinch. You noticed then the tightness of his lips and the way his eyes glistened in the light from the parking lot, but you chose to hold on to your anger. 

“Fuck off, Javi,” you said, turning away and walking off into the night. “Do not follow me.” 

You didn’t go home. You were plagued by the image of the empty couch before you even saw it. Instead, you sat on a stool at the same bar you’d visited the other night with Javier and Murphy. There was no dancing that night, no figure watching you from the doorway. The only thing that was the same was the alcohol, and you kept it coming. The shot glasses and empty beer bottles piled up on the bar in front of you and you were slumped forward, your head planted firmly in your hand. You were far enough into the booze that emotions didn’t stick to your thoughts or memories, and you were humming “I Only Want to Be with You” while staring at the stack of empty shot glasses. 

“That song came out when I was eight years old,” you said to no one in particular. The bartender was cleaning glasses nearby, but if he heard you or understood you, he didn’t show it. You didn’t care. “My dad and I used to dance to it when it came on the radio. He loved music, listened to it all the time. He loved to dance, too. We played that song for the father-daughter dance at my wedding. That was the first time I ever saw him cry. The last was the day I got on a plane to come down here.” You knocked back another shot and added the empty glass to your structure. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your thumb to the bridge of your nose, humming the song again. The air shifted and someone sat down on the stool next to you. You lifted your head, seeing Javier out of the corner of your eye. He looked at you before placing money down on the bar, paying your tab. 

“It’s time to go,” he said softly. Javier got to his feet, but leaned towards you expectantly. 

“Thanks, but no,” you said, pushing the money back over to him. You nodded to the bartender, tapping the neck of your bottle. Javier said something to him in Spanish, and briefly flashed his badge. You thought you heard the words ‘cut off’. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you snapped over your shoulder. “I thought I told you not to follow me.” You got to your feet to face him, and that was a mistake. You put your hands on the bar to keep your balance.

“C’mon,” Javier said, holding his hand out for yours. “I’ll take you home.” 

“No.” You closed your eyes and shook your head slowly. “I can’t go back there.” Javier was standing with his hands on his hips while he waited for you to speak, but now he took his jacket off and walked over to you, wrapping it around your shoulders. 

“Then you won’t,” he said. “Come on, let’s go.” You let him lead you out of the bar, your legs feeling limp and shaky. He opened the car door for you and helped you in, making sure you were settled before getting in on the driver’s side. Wondering, you felt in the pockets of his jacket, finding a pack of cigarettes. You pulled two out and lit them, offering the second to him. 

“I’m sorry for what I said,” you whispered into the quiet dark of the car, watching Javier’s face catch the warm amber of the streetlights as he drove. Your eyes were heavy with exhaustion and the weight of the alcohol. “I know you care, of course you care. And you’re not responsible for any of this. It’s not your fault.” Javier didn’t say anything, and it was impossible to read his face, but something told you he didn’t believe it. 

Javier opened the door to his apartment and stepped aside to let you in. You went into the bathroom and splashed cool water on your face as he turned the lights on and tidied up a bit. 

“You can take the bed,” Javier said, gesturing to the bedroom. You looked in at the bed and remembered the joke you had made to Carrillo about staying with Javier, how you’d gotten him to smile. The memory was like a punch to your gut. Was that how things would be now? Would you be living in memories again? The thought made you feel sick. You needed to feel something else. You shrugged the jacket off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and you grabbed Javier by the collar of his shirt, pulling him into a kiss. He stumbled into you at the unexpected action, your back hitting the wall, and you let out a soft gasp against his lips. Your fingers worked quickly at the buttons of his light orange shirt, eager to find the skin underneath. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Javier said, closing his hands over yours. His forehead was pressed against yours while you both caught your breath. “We shouldn’t do this.” He pushed your hair back from your face and cupped your cheek in his hand. 

“Javi,” you whispered. You didn’t know what to say, all you knew was that you needed him close. Needed somebody close. You gripped his shoulders, fingers pressing into his skin, trying to keep him there.

“You’re drunk, you’re exhausted, I can’t take advantage of that.” He kissed your forehead. “You’ve been through hell tonight, you need to sleep.” He started to walk back toward the living room.

“I need to not be alone,” you said, finally finding the words. He stopped and looked back at you, his eyebrows turning up in the middle.

“You’re not,” Javier said.

Taglist: @cheesybadgers @massivecolorspygiant @vanthrefrigeration @funtasi @redwine-n-hiddles @sarahjkl82-blog @maharani-radha-writes @lettherebrelight @banga-sama @ajeff855 @madlyhowling @chiara-cannot-sleep @mcrmarvelloki @cassandras-nest @flowerchild-96 @harduy @chasingdreamer @anatanotegami @live--aloud​ @grogu-pascal @dodgerandevans

#i feel like willy wonka on the boat ride #man made of stone #horacio carrillo x reader #colonel carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo #colonel carrillo #javier peña #steve murphy #trujillo #maurice compte #pedro pascal #boyd holbrook #jorge monterrosa #narcos #narcos fic #it's all about that angst

[hellothirteenhere]

Jujutsu Kaisen x Harry Potter

I feel as though every fandom has that obligatory multichapter Harry Potter!AU. Of course, that’s not to say that our amazing writers hadn’t been writing fic within this universe. (For example, check out seadawnn’s ‘Conquest of Hearts’ - Wholesome™ Itafushi that makes me smile every time I read it.) But I’m interested in seeing how a full-blown Jujutsu Kaisen universe would be like in an alternate Harry Potter-setting. So! I’ve been thinking long and hard about how it would play out and here are my headcanons for our very own Golden Trio! Couldn’t quite place them definitively in their Hogwarts Houses, so I would love to hear your opinions on where each of them should go, as well as your own personal headcanons.

Yuuji Itadori | Gryffindor/Hufflepuff (5th Year)

Ok, so here's the thing: typical shonen protagonist conventions tells me to put Yuuji Itadori in Gryffindor. And it makes complete sense! We see that he's brave - fucking demon possesses you and all you say is "What are you doing with my body?"?. But he's also willing to admit when he gets scared, like when he first faced a Special Grade. GryffindorJock!Itadori who is the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team is a mental image I'm not willing to let go of anytime soon. However, Yuuji is also an incredibly kind individual who just wants to save other people. Hufflepuff!Yuuji is that guy who is popular with everyone at Hogwarts, he cooks meatballs in the kitchens at midnight as he talks to the house elves as though they were close friends, and he would definitely take a curse or two in order to save his friends if the situation calls for it.

Background

Yuuji grew up as a mostly normal kid. Sure, there had been strange (almost magical, somehow) instances here or there but he was an energetic enough child that it never really occurred to him to dwell on them for too long. 

As long as he could remember, it was just him and his grandfather. Supposedly, Yuuji had an older brother. But for some reasons that his grandfather refuse to tell him; he had to go away when Yuuji had been very young. He doesn’t even remember what his older brother looked like. But then again, Yuuji can’t even remember what their parents had been like - so he doesn’t really feel as though there was anything lacking in his upbringing. After all, how can you miss something you never had? 

On his eleventh birthday, his grandfather solemnly sits Yuuji down and tells him that he was a wizard.  He was a “Pureblood” - and potentially very powerful - wizard. His grandfather had been born a squib but he had known enough to explain to Yuuji the basics of the world that his parents had once belonged to. 

Imagine: “Yer a wizard, Yuuji.” “….Sweet.”   

His grandfather then hands him two things: 

First, a letter from some Hog-Wash-Hagwarts?? Warthog? School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that he was to attend. His parents had gone there as well to learn magic. 

Second, a long, sturdy piece of polished wood. When grandfather had taken it out of its box, Yuuji had looked at the wand skeptically - almost a hundred percent sure that the entire thing was one huge joke. But his grandfather was no prankster, after all, because as soon as his fingertips touched its surface, he felt a warm glow rush into his fingertips. 

According to his grandfather, the wand had been his mother’s, passed on to his grandfather for safekeeping after she had died all those years ago. 

When asked about the whereabouts of his father’s wand, his grandfather’s face turned dark. It was with Yuuji’s older brother, he said. His older brother who had also been attending the same school that he would be. 

Headcanons

Itadori is one of the best Defense Against the Dark Arts students of their year. He also gets great grades for Charms and, much to everyone’s surprise, Potions. A Chaotic Good™ through-and-through, Itadori tends to forget to follow the very strict instructions that Potions Master Kento Nanami wrote at the blackboard, and yet despite eyeballing the ingredients, his Potion turns out great every time. HOW? No one knows.

His dorm room is filled with Muggle posters - it just feels too weird to have a magical poster of a tall woman with a big ass greeting him every time he woke up or entered his dorm room. He learned the hard way that there is such a thing as too much of a good thing when Todo gifted him a moving poster of Jennifer Lawrence.

He tries his best to collect Chocolate Frog cards, bless his heart - but he always tend to lose them in the journey between Hogwarts and his home every summer. Little does he know that Kugisaki and Toge pilfer the ultra-rare ones that he somehow manages to pull in a semi-regular basis. 

Megumi Fushiguro | Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw (5th Year)

Primarily, I want Ravenclaw!Megumi Fushiguro as an aesthetic. We already know that he likes to read non-fiction books in his spare time (babes, i love you but that is nerd behavior), and he's shown that he's very sharp and intuitive when it comes to battles. He is also very knowledgeable about the Jujutsu World. Also, pretty boy looks damn good in blue. I can just imagine Megumi as the quiet, brooding Ravenclaw who is somehow friends with every insane person in Hogwarts. However, Hufflepuff!Megumi embodies who he is as a character. He's loyal to his friends and family, selfless when it comes to protecting the others, and he's willing to work hard behind the scenes even if he doesn't get recognition for it. We also saw how Megumi was willing to be the sacrifice bunt if it meant that Kugisaki had the chance to move forward during the baseball scene.

Background

Megumi came from an aristocratic Pureblood family, the Ancient and Most Noble House of Zenin. An extremely powerful wizarding family rumored to be distant relatives of Salazar Slytherin himself. Only - his father Toji had been born a Squib who married his mother just to spite his conservative family. Much to his surprise, however, Megumi was born not only an incredibly talented wizard but also the first parseltongue of the Zenin family in years.

Professor Gojo - back when he was still an Auror and not the DADA instructor at Hogwarts - came to the Fushiguro family household after he had apprehended Fushiguro Toji or, as the wizarding world commonly knows him as: the Sorcerer Killer. Much to his surprise, he doesn't find Toji's wife nor his stepdaughter - instead, he finds tiny Megumi talking to his pet garden snake, Orochi. He ended up taking Megumi under his wing, letting him live at the Gojo family’s home and later taking him to Diagon Alley a week before he started in Hogwarts. 

Gojo buying Megumi his pet owl, Nue. 

No, YOU’RE crying. 

Of course, the Zenin family kick up a fuss about custody. It's only Gojo's status as the strongest wizard alive - as well as his well-placed threat to make the knowledge that the notorious Sorcerer Killer had once been a Zenin known to the wizarding world - that keeps them quiet.

Headcanons

Megumi's best subject is Care of Magical Creatures - though he’s also great at Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. Students are, by school regulations, only really allowed one (1) pet (an owl/cat/toad). And legally, Megumi has his horned owl, Nue. It is, however, an open secret within the Hogwarts community that Megumi Fushiguro walks around the castle with his pet snake Orochi wrapped around his wrist under his cloak. No one questions that Megumi arrives at Hogsmeade, conveniently trailed by the same black and white dogs every weekend. His roommates learn to turn their heads the other way when the bunnies under Megumi’s bed escape their cage.

He used the expansion charm in order to house his ever-growing collection of pets. Imagine Newt Scamander’s suitcase but, instead of a large sprawling space, it’s a cozy room filled with books and pets and pet paraphernalia.   

He’s not competitive enough to play Quidditch, but he attends every game to support his friends. He also attends their practices sometimes but just sits at the pitch to read his book, do homework, or take a nap. 

Half-Veela!Megumi make brain go brrrrr

Kugisaki Nobara| Slytherin/Gryffindor (5th Year)

Out of everyone, I had the hardest time placing the Kugisaki. I feel as though Slytherin!Kugisaki is the girl who dropped everything in order to go live in the city - the girl who was willing to do anything, even join a career with a high possibility of dying, just to follow her dreams. She is unapologetic about being herself, highly resourceful, and is one luxurious queen. But Kugisaki is also incredibly brave - unafraid to stand up for the girl who was being ostracized by everyone in their part of the countryside. I implore you to imagine Gryffindor!Kugisaki pulling the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat in order to save other people. 

Background

Kugisaki is a Muggleborn who used to live in the quiet countryside. She’s an incredibly talented witch who started showing signs of magic at an early age - something that had frightened her, especially because it was clear that it also frightened her parents. She tried to suppress her abilities, trying to fit into society for a while - that is, until a girl named Saori moved in from the city.

Saori had been a Pureblood witch who had grown up in the Wizarding World. She had been the first person told Kugisaki that her magic was a blessing instead of a freak of nature or something that she had to hide. Saori talked to Kugisaki about the wonders of their world that she would one day get to take part in. She told Kugisaki about Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, and all these wonderful places that she would get to go to. 

However, because they were a Pureblood family, Saori and her family did not know how to integrate within the Muggle community. Not too long after their arrival, horrible rumors about their family started spreading - that they were cultists, satan worshippers, etc. Eventually, they decided to move away from the country. Before leaving, Saori made Kugisaki promise to find each other one day and to never turn back on who she truly is.

When Kugisaki first received her letter from Professor Shoko Ieiri who mysteriously appeared in their doorstop the night of her eleventh birthday, the professor explained to her parents about magic and the wizarding - only, Kugisaki was only half listening. 

Unlike her parents, she wasn’t surprised one bit - it was only a matter of time, after all, and she was finally going to get to go to Hogwarts. Surely, Saori had already graduated by the time she entered but it was definitely one step closer to finding her childhood friend. 

Headcanons

Kugisaki has pretty good grades all around - but she is definitely known as the best in their year at Charms. She also has great grades at Defense Against the Dark Arts. She and Yuuji definitely almost failed History of Magic, though. They have too much energy to just sit quietly and take notes in class - especially one taught by a ghost. 

Every store owner in Hogsmeade knows Kugisaki by name - and by extention, they know Yuuji and Megumi too. She has long since mastered the art of dragging her friends all around the shops and still not paying a single Knut by the end of their Hogsmeade visit. At the end of every visit, Yuuji and Megumi swears that it would be the last time and yet, every visit, she still manages to wrangle both of them into coming with her 

In Potions, Kugisaki is a force to be reckoned with. Her cauldron always appeared to be on the verge of exploding and yet, somehow, a supernatural force (or by the sheer strength of her own willpower) seem to keep her from completely fucking up every time. 

BeaterNobaraBeaterNobaraBeaterNobaraBeaterNobara  

COMING UP

Slytherin!Sukuna Ryoumen

Ex-Auror-turned-DADA-Professor!Gojo 

Potions-Master-not-Professor!Nanami

Slytherin!Maki Zenin

Ravenclaw!Inumaki Toge

Hufflepuff!Panda 

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsukaisen #itadori #jjk itadori #itadori yuuji #itadori headcanons #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #itadori yuuji headcanons #yuuji #yuujiitadori #yuuji itadori #fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi #jjk fushiguro #megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi headcanons #fushiguro headcanons #megumi fushiguro headcanon #kugisaki nobara #nobara #jjk nobara #kugisaki #jjk kugisaki #nobara kugisaki #kugisaki nobara headcanon #nobara headcanons #kugisaki headcanons

[bronybusfare]

[Disclaimer]

I know it’s waaay past V-Day, but after recently finishing Shadowbringers, I couldn’t help but think about Alisaie’s slightly noticble hints of affection. I wanted to make this just because I love her interactions, and trust me, there is more to come! Also, this is my first attempt at fanfics, so if there’s anything wrong or possibly missing, go ahead and say, and I’ll try to fix it!

PART 1

Alisaie x WoL

It’s Valentiones Day in Eorzea, and it truly shows. Cherry blossoms blooming in New Gridania, the Songbirds performing in Ul’dah, and the overwhelming smell of roses in Limsa Lominsa. Being the Warrior of Light/Darkness, things like this you don’t typically have time for, but this times an exception.

After so many years of adventures, times have been a bit smoother for you and the scions, giving you more time to spend with the others, more so with the Leveilleur twins. Though you can’t help but feel like something will happen, for now you try to push it to the back of your mind, and let yourself try to relax.

During these times, thanks to G’raha Tia, Y’shtola, and Urianger’s combined knowledge, they were successful in making it possible to return to the First with mind, body, and soul together, much like you can with no issue. It’ll be common to see Thancred, Y’shtola, and G’raha return for the day to see Ryne, Runar, and Lyna respectively.

Thancred would tell Ryne about Eorzea and all its vastly different normalities compared to Norvrandt, and would occasionally bring food or special drinks with him for her to try. Ryne one day dreams to see Eorzea, though knowing that may take a while longer to happen.

Y’shtola would immediately return to slitherborough and re-converse with everyone, while Runar continually tries to keep her to stay. She always has shown a soft side to Runar, and can’t help but consider staying, but overall knows it’s best to stay in the Source. Runar will tend to give her unique flowers to bring back to the Source, to always remember him in rough times, knowing the Nights Blessed will always await her return with open arms.

G’raha on the other hand would take Lyna to special places only he knew about, being that they were his time of peace when he wasn’t at the Crystal Tower as acting Exarch, and would always surprise her with something only he knew she’d love, such as new dancer arms sold from Ishgard, or a small nic-nac from Kugane. Honestly, she doesn’t mind all these little gifts, but what Lyna values more is the time she can spend with the Miqo’te, even if it would be a short time.

Alphinaud and Alisaie would check in for a few minutes on Halric and the other patients in Amh Araeng, then make a quick stop to check up on Chai-Nuzz and the other Inhabitants of Kholusia.

Urianger would stay behind back in Mor Dhona to help Krile and Tataru with anything they needed, leaving you to keep close eyes on any strange activities in Eorzea.

This time was different though, as Alisaie stayed behind with you and Urianger, leaving Alphinaud to do the routine check-ups. Normally you wouldn’t think different of it, but you begin to notice Alisaie acting stranger and stranger around you, as if she was afraid of being close to your persons. You consult Urianger about the strange going-on with her, and he simply smiles.

“Think my friend, does thou not know the times of days recent?”

You excuse yourself from any further interactions to explore the different items being sold in Mor Dhona. You begin thinking about what he says while you browse the shops, and notice Alisaie looking at what looks like jewelry. As she picks up a exquisite looking ring, you call out to her.

“Hey, Alisaie!”

Her head shoots up from the ring and looks your way. Her face begins to turn red, and she begins to panic, quickly puts the ring back before you stand directly in front of her.

“O-Oh, WoL, I wasn’t expecting to see you here! W-What’s up? Whatcha doin’? Lookin’ for anything special?”

You notice she begins to sweat profusely, and face reddening more and more.

“Are you ok, Alisaie? Your’re turning red.” You ask with a great deal of concern.

“Y-Yeah, d-definitely! 100%! Perfectly fine! Just fine!” She immediately replies. Alisaie then begins to slowly move backwards. “Listen, I’ve got this.....thing I gotta do....over there.....far that way. See you later!”

She sprints off in a hurry without any hesitation, leaving nothing but dust in her wake. You tilt your head in both confusion and concern, eventually moving on to look at the remaining shops. Not long later, you return to the Rising Stones, to see the others returned from the First.

“Ah, WoL! Glad to see you haven’t gone off on another quest”, G’raha says with a hint of playfulness in his words. “Anything to report?”

You shake your head in disagreement, and proceed to continue thinking about Alisaie.

Y’shtola notices your concerned look, and converses with you.

“What’s wrong, WoL? Is something bothering you? You seem lost in thought”.

With a bit of worry, you begin to tell the others about your recent interactions with Alisaie, and everyone begins to slightly chuckle.

“Well my friend”, Alphinaud begins, struggling to hold back a laugh, “I believe I may know about your situation”.

Alphinaud begins to explain to you about how some Valetione works, and continues with how people act differently around others, more so than other days. He then explains that Alisaie is in the same situation, with you being the person in question.

As if timing couldn’t be better, you suddenly hear the door open and turn to see Alisaie coming through it.

“Sorry I’m late. I had a bit of a run-in with Wa.....”

She stops and looks to everyone all looking back at her, including you. Her face begins to turn as red as a tomato. “I just remembered, I-Ive got somewhere to be!” and quickly slams the door shut behind her.

“See? My point have been proven yet again.” Alphinaud says triumphantly. You turn to see everyone else nodding.

Without thinking, you ask

“Does Alisaie have feelings....for me?”

“I’m most surprised thou dids not suspect of this earlier”, Urianger says. “‘Tis not surprising to us, but thou must not be oblivious to such notable changes of mistress Alisaie’s usual demeanour”.

You shrug with a somewhat unknowing look, slightly blushing, but not enough to be noticed.

“Well, now the cats outta the bag. What are you goin’ todo ‘bout it?” Thancred asks without hesitation.

You begin to think about a way to return her feelings. “I might have a suggestion, if you don’t mind” G’raha begins, with a hint of confidence in his voice.

He turns to the female scion. “Y’shtola, do you remember if Alisaie have ever been to Costa del Sol?”

Y’shtola thinks for a moment, then realizes where G’raha is getting too.

“As a matter of fact, I believe she’s only been there roughly once or twice. As I recall, is the Valentiones festival not happening there this year?”

G’raha Tia then nods his head in agreement.

“Why yes, it is. I believe that may be our perfect opportunity to get both WoL and Alisaie in the same place, hopefully without another “awkward” situation.”

You start to have a more noticeable blush in your face, but you whole-heartedly agree with G’raha Tia’s plan.

“Excellent”, he happily chirps. “Tataru, would it be possible to make some reservations for a few days stay at the resort?”

“Nothin’ I can’t handle! Leave it to me!”

Tataru happily walks off, with a small hop and skip in her movement. Krile follows shortly behind, hoping to give a bit of help to her fellow Lalafell.

“Now that that’s done”, G’raha turns to Y’shtola and Urianger once more. “Would it be possible for you two to keep miss Alisaie occupied for a while? I believe it’s time to put some cooking skills Lyna helped me with to the test.”

Y’shtola and Urianger nod and head off to find Alisaie. Thancred decides to tag along, just to see what happens.

“Alphinaud, I have a special request for you.”

The young Elezen turns to G’raha. “Of course, I can do anything in my power to help.”

“You’ve obviously been the closest to Alisaie for the longest time. Would you happen to know what kind of chocolate she likes?”

“Why of course” Alphinaud began with a full smile across his face, moving to the kitchen. “I used to make it for her whenever she felt down. It was a special mix of white chocolate and crushed cookie crumbs.”

G’raha Tia has a smile of his own now. “Then if it’s not too much trouble, would you please help WoL and myself make it? I personally would rather make them home made, than a special request. It would be more romantic if WoL made it, as well.”

“Do you even need to ask?” Alphinaud says, as he’s already putting on an apron and washing his hands. “Shall we?”

End of part 1

#warrior of light #alisaie leveilleur #ff14 #final fantasy #final fantasy xiv #alisaie/wol #alphinaud leveilleur #g’raha tia #y’shtola rhul #urianger augurelt #thancred waters #ryne waters #tataru taru #krile mayer baldesion #lyna #runar

[plusultrachaos]

So this is definetly not because of that tiktok we saw BUT izuku hasnt had a birthday party outside of him and his mom since he was like 4 and it slips out one day as his birthday is getting closer when his friends ask what his plans are and all of class 1a bands together to throw him the best birthday party

it absolutely is because of the tiktok (but also because the ideas that you give me that make me write the most) that i got 1.3k out of this prompt. 

"Guys, really… It's. It's not that big of a deal." Izuku turns to see that Ochako and Tenya have already gotten the evil look in their eyes. He sighs and looks down. "I'm used to not having a party. It's fine if I don't do anything for it." He watches as Ochako gets her "I have a plan, but there is no way that you're going to find out about it" look. 

Izuku fears nothing more than he fears that look coming from Ochako. 

"I'm not going to stand for that, Deku!" Tenya nods along with her. "You stay here. Don't go into the lounge." As she and Tenya leave him in the kitchen, Izuku can hear her mutter, “did he really wait until two days before his birthday to tell us this? I mean we already had one planned, but like damn.”

Izuku just sighs, knowing that no one in his class is just going to let him have a small birthday. And don’t get him wrong, he wants a party; one where everybody is celebrating him, all hanging out with him. Laughing because they are having fun, not because he started rambling about something again. He wants one where he’s not being bullied on a day meant for him.

He’s used to the birthdays with just his mom, where he knows that everybody there cares and loves him. Maybe they will all forget his birthday is coming up and he can just make due with a cheap, stale convenience store cookie. 

Izuku leaves the kitchen and he sulks on his way to the couch to watch the movie that his class started playing moments before. 

— — — 

They hadn’t forgotten. He feels very dumb for thinking that they would. He should’ve known that, especially Class 1-A, they would’ve just gone more chaotic about the plans. 

Izuku had woken up on his birthday like any other day, his hair a curly, knotted mess, his All Might onesie rumpled and so comfy. He didn't want to take it off in lieu of other, regular clothing. There was one difference in his morning routine compared to others though.

There was a folded up note sitting on his desk. 

“Happy Birthday, Izuku!” was written in Ochako’s scribbly handwriting on the top of the folded note. Opening the note up, he starts to read the rest of the note, noticing and setting aside a second note that fluttered to the top of his desk. “Starting off, Tenya shows his concern for you leaving your bedroom door unlocked. Next, Todoroki keeps calling you a cute sleeper and that you in an All Might onesie is also very cute. I have to agree with him there. ;)” Izuku feels his face heat up with the compliments from his friends. He ignores the fluttering of his stomach with the knowledge of one of them, specifically, complimenting him. 

“Also when you wake up, don’t worry about getting ready in a rush. Actually feel free to take your time doing what you need to do. When you do end up going downstairs, go to the kitchen first.” He reads the rest of the note, a small smile coming across his face as reads the little sign off from Ochako, their names followed by a small gentle heart. His hand coming up to his face to wipe away the tears he hadn't realized started falling.

He set the first note down and picks up the small slip of paper that is covered in Todoroki’s messing handwriting. “Keep your door unlocked again and fear getting All Might merch stolen for an Endeavor related prank. - Todo Shouto” His smile glows a bit more after reading Shouto’s note, a small laugh bubbling out from his throat.

He could feel the appreciation for his friends growing as he had read the notes grow even more. He is so grateful for the things that they have done for him in the past year of traumatic attacks and everything else that they’ve had to experience.

Maybe the party wouldn’t be so bad…

He sends a text out to Shouto telling him, “bet” in response to his note. And since they told him to take his time, after changing, he calls his mom to talk to her for a bit. 

It goes as any call with his mom goes, filled with excited rambling from both of them and leaving Izuku with a sort of sadness. It's the first birthday he’s really spending without her and although he knows it's going to be a good birthday, he misses having katsudon and hearing his mom’s out-of-tune singing. There’s something about missing this tradition that takes the small smile from his face. 

The tears that follow are short lived, they staryslow and leave quickly. He wipes at his face, hoping it wasn’t noticeable that he had been crying. He didn’t want to ruin the fun that his friends worked so hard to plan for. He gets up from his desk, hiding the notes somewhere he will see so he can put them on his walls. 

He goes to his door, savoring the quietness before the chaos begins. 

— — —

“Do you think he’s actually going to take the message of taking his time seriously?” The question comes from above Shouto, the string in his hand tugging as Ochako moves. The banner she is hanging is something that Momo and Hagakure worked hard to create, the detail showing just how much effort they put into it. There is yelling coming from the kitchen, a blast shortly following. Shouto watches as Kaminari and Sero run out of the kitchen, Bakugou screaming from behind him. 

“Maybe for a bit. He doesn’t take breaks often so I think he won’t take very long to himself.” It’s Jirou’s soft voice that chimes in from the couch, her guitar propped up on her leg as she strums out a entle tune. Shouto looks down for a few seconds before he feels the tug to bring Ochako down to the ground. 

She nods once her feet hit the ground at him before looking up at the banner. “That’s true.” 

“I expect he will be calling his mother. If he hasn’t had a birthday party before, he’s probably only spent it with her.” It's a logical assumption from Tenya that has Shouto thinking harder and doing what he thinks are very hard calculations. 

“So a few more moments.” He keeps his voice quiet and looks down, only Ochako and nods at him again.

“Yeah, probably.” She looks out at the rest of the class, yelling “someone tell the Bakusquad they only have a few more minutes. Deku should be down soon.” There are a few yells in a response before the chaos causers file out of the kitchen, Bakugou the last to come out.

A few moments, there is the dinging of the elevator and Ochako is signalling the class to get into position. Everybody hides in easy to see places and Shouto turns the lights out to the lounge, staying close to the light switch. He can hear the sounds of Izuku shuffling (and sniffling) around in the kitchen before everything calms for a few moments. He assumes Izuku is reading the third (Ochako thinks it's only the second) letter saying Happy Birthday to Class 1-A’s sunshine boy. Shouto waits until he hears the footsteps approaching the lounge before he gets ready to turn the lights back on. 

When he sees Izuku come into the lounge is when he flips the switch . What he didn’t expect to see was Izuku holding his hand to his mouth as tears streamed down his face. Everybody yelled out a loud “Surprise!” not knowing he was crying. 

They should’ve anticipated it, and that is why SHouto’s immediate response to the sight that Izuku is,  isn't to yell out the surprise. It’s to go over to him and hold him as his legs give out underneath him when the class yells. Shouto slides Izuku to the ground gently, holding him as he cries with a small smile. “Happy Birthday, Midoriya Izuku.”

tagging groupie: (let me know through ask or note if you would like to be added or removed) @theghosthybrid, @12redsky34, @stardustsys, @koifishkiss, @worst-bunny, @faelwenholdsthelight, @demumbrigde, and tagging you even though you left the ask, (happy early anniversary, babs) @tired-taro 

#bnha #bnha writing #writing #writing prompts #anon #anon prompts #iloveiloveilove #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #todoroki shouto #midoriya birthday

[inawickedlittletown]

I’m With You (22/22)

Summary:

Having a crush was nothing to be ashamed of…lying to the family and friends of said crush about being the guy’s boyfriend, that was a whole other problem. When Buck saves the life of Andrew Diaz and accidentally makes a nurse think that he’s Andrew’s boyfriend, Buck soon finds himself lying to Andrew’s firefighter friends/coworkers as well as Andrew’s family including Andrew’s very suspicious and attractive brother, Eddie.

Based on the 1995 movie While You Were Sleeping.

Words: 4,916

Notes: And we are at the end. Enjoy. 

Read on Ao3

Masterpost

Previous Chapter

–

Eddie saw the pictures before he heard about the get together at Chim’s apartment. Karen had posted a few pictures on Instagram and Eddie had just happened to open the app in time to see them. The thing that struck him the most was that Buck looked happy. He was smiling wide standing between Hen and Karen and then in another with his sister. And then in the last picture, it was Buck, Chim, Hen, and Andrew. 

So, it was to Andrew that Eddie went first. “How’s Buck?” 

“He’s good. Which doesn’t mean that you’re off the hook on talking to him.”

Eddie shrugged him off. 

“He really is good, Eddie,” Andrew said. 

Hen brought up the dinner later, filling Bobby in on Buck and more specifically that Buck was training to become a firefighter. 

“I think that would be good for him,” Bobby said. 

Eddie didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected that at all. Buck was going to be a firefighter. 

A week later, he watched Maddie enter the station. She was on her own and Eddie was up on one of the trucks doing some maintenance so she didn’t notice him. Eddie got to watch as Hen greeted her, but then it was Chimney that she left with. 

“What’s up with that?” he asked Hen later when they were leaving the station. 

“Chim said something about Maddie needing a comprehensive movie guide,” Hen said with a shrug. 

“Is Buck really okay?” Eddie asked. 

Hen gave a slight nod. “He’s doing something he loves and he has his sister back. I think — I think Buck is okay. He’ll be okay even if you never talk through whatever you’re still angry about. But I think the two of you should talk.” 

“He should be the one to—”

Hen raised a hand to stop him. “What, to apologize? He sort of did that already. Andrew isn’t even holding it against him, so I don’t get why you are.” 

“I’m not holding—”

“You are,” Hen said. “But you shouldn’t.”

He couldn’t make himself call. Or text. And then, when he finally built up the courage to return to Coffee Time to see if he could catch Buck there, Buck wasn’t there. Not the first time he stopped by. Not the second. The third time that he went in and didn’t find Buck, Eddie finally asked the person at the counter. 

“Buck doesn’t work here anymore,” Buck’s former co-worker told him which meant that Eddie had to actually call him or text him or show up at his apartment. None of which felt like something he could actually do. 

He did need to do something, though, because Buck was a constant thought in his mind. He was past the anger and past all the resentment he’d felt about the guilt that Buck had made him feel and instead he just missed him. He was reminded of Buck constantly. Legolas alone could bring forth memories and then there was everything else. Everyone else who still had a connection to him and saw him if not regularly, at least they did see him. 

All of it came to a head when he was over at abuela’s house with Christopher. Andrew was supposed to join them but he was running late so while Christopher was outside with Legolas, Eddie had a moment with his abuela. 

“No estás bien,” she said. “Te veo triste, mijo.” 

[“You’re not okay.” she said. “I can see you’re sad, kiddo”]

“I’m okay, abuela,” Eddie responded. 

“This has to do with Buck, doesn’t it? Ese día en la fiesta de Andrew, todo lo que pasó con Buck. Todavía estás enojado?”

[“...that day at Andrew’s party, everything that happened with Buck. You’re still angry?”]

Maybe there was some lingering anger but it wasn’t even directed at Buck. It was more that Eddie wished things were different and that somehow if Eddie hadn’t gone and lost Buck’s friendship that something more could have been possible. The potential for more between them...it felt like it was lost. 

“Eddie, qué estás esperando si lo extrañas tanto? Andrew dice que Buck está bien. Va ser un bombero.”

[“Eddie, what are you waiting for if you miss him so much? Andrew says that Buck is okay. He’s going to be a firefighter.”]

“It’s not just that I miss him,” Eddie said and he took a deep breath. “I think...I think I love him. I think he’s the only person I’ve met since Shannon that I could see myself spending the rest of my life with and even though I like to think that I actually do know him, he lied. He lied to all of us. So how much of what he told me is real? And then there’s...well, who knows how he feels about me.” 

Abuela gave him a pointed look but she didn’t get to say anything because Pepa arrived. While Eddie could easily figure out that his abuela wasn’t too bothered by any of what Buck had done, Pepa was different and Eddie just couldn’t tell how she felt mostly because she didn’t ever bring up Buck. And if his name came up, she raised an eyebrow and said nothing more. 

“Didn’t know you’d be here, Eddie,” she said. “I just spoke to your mom. She and your dad are coming back next week?” 

Eddie nodded. The only part about his parents returning to LA that he liked was that they were going to be staying with Andrew. Like Pepa, his parents had said very little on the whole Buck debacle. Eddie suspected that they’d talked to Andrew about it. Maybe Andrew had put them off on talking to him about Buck. Eddie didn’t mind that too much because if Andrew was pushy, his mother was much worse.

“I think mom thinks she’s going to convince Andrew not to go through with it,” Eddie said. 

Pepa chuckled. “I wish her luck. And how are you doing, Edmundo?” 

“He’s missing Buck,” Abuela said. “I miss him too.” 

“He lied to us,” Pepa said. 

“Pepa, no seas asi. Ves a este chico, esta enamorado.” 

[“Pepa, don’t be like that. Look at this boy, he’s in love.”]

Eddie just groaned. He felt Pepa’s hand land on his hair, running her fingers through it gently and soothing. “Eddito, if you really feel like that, what are you waiting for?” 

“You just said it. He lied to us and I have no idea how he feels or what will—”

Her hand tugged at his hair suddenly and he yelped. “Stop thinking so much. You’ll drive yourself crazy. You just have to talk to him.”

“Right, like that’s easy.” But they were right. He did need to talk to Buck. 

Pepa was looking at him still. 

“Look, I can’t pretend I’m not still mildly upset about all of this with Buck. But, I also know that he didn’t pretend to be anything different than who he is with us. And I’m sure once I see him again, it’ll be easy to forgive him.” 

—

Buck was so busy with his last few weeks of training and how grueling it all was to notice much outside of what it meant to be so close to being done. So, he didn’t realize that Maddie and Chim hung out more than he hung out with either of them. He also failed to open any of his mail or check his phone — mostly because he knew his bills weren’t due for a few weeks yet and everyone that was important in his life knew that he was too busy to do much more than train and sleep and as such would understand when Buck didn’t respond right away. 

And then when those final weeks came to an end, came the testing. The written portion and the physical all of it combined to measure all the skills that Buck had learned over the last few months. It felt surreal to have gotten to the end and even more surreal when there were results in front of him and he passed. Top marks. Any station would have him. 

“But there is one that has put in a request for you, Buckley,” one of his instructors, Danny, said. 

The 118. Buck just didn’t know if that was what he wanted. Andrew was already off of the 118 and as much as Buck loved Chim and Hen, he didn’t know if it would be possible for him to work with Eddie. He also hadn’t seen Bobby yet since everything happened but Bobby had clearly put through the request to get him so he had to be okay with it. 

“The 118?” Buck asked. 

“You have friends there, Buckley?”

“You could say that,” Buck said. “I just don’t know if going to work with them is a good idea.”

Danny touched Buck’s shoulder. “The people you work with on this job, those people become family. You’ll spend more time with them than you expect and you will know every single one of them better than you’ll know anyone else because it’s that closeness that makes this work. It’s trust that makes it easier for you to do your job. We leave everything behind to do this, to focus on saving lives, but it’s far easier when you’re carrying the burden of this job with those you work with.”

Trust. It came down to that, to how Buck knew that Eddie didn’t trust him. 

“I think I have to turn that offer down,” Buck said. 

“Think on it, Buckley. You don’t have to decide now. Captain Nash, he’s one of the best. Maybe talk to your friends before you decide. No one will be assigned officially until tomorrow.” 

“Right,” Buck said. “Thanks.” 

It wouldn’t change for him, he knew. He wouldn’t do that to Eddie, he wouldn’t encroach on his space, push in where he wasn’t wanted even if it would disappoint Hen and Chim and maybe even Bobby.

Somehow, it wasn’t Maddie that he called to talk about it, though, but Andrew. And Andrew agreed to meet him for coffee at Coffee Time. 

Ali was there when Buck arrived. Buck joined the line while he waited for Andrew. He had almost made it to the front of the line when Andrew entered and Buck felt a little like he’d gone back in time. Andrew pushed the door open and he was just as handsome as ever as he walked in. Buck couldn’t help but smile, remembering when he’d been behind that counter admiring this man. 

“Buck!” he said as he approached and he pulled Buck into a tight hug. “How are you?” 

“I’m good. Great, even.” 

“Wait, wasn’t today...wait, are you a probie officially?” Andrew asked. 

“That I am,” Buck said and he couldn’t help but smile to himself. “And it seems like Bobby is trying to pull some strings to have me join the 118. That’s, um, that’s why I asked you to meet me.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Andrew said. “I spoke to him about it and we all felt you’d fit in perfectly in my spot.”

Buck took a breath, but they had reached the counter at that point and Ali was there with both of their coffee orders ready and a plate with danishes. Andrew picked up his cup and the plate and motioned towards one of the empty tables. 

“So, you two together officially, now?” Ali asked. 

“What? No. Andrew isn’t into men. But we’re friends now.” 

“Well, he’s still really nice to look at,” Ali said complete with an eyebrow wiggle. “Think there’s a chance he could—”

Buck rolled his eyes. He put a bill down in front of her and grabbed his coffee. 

“I’m just saying, Buck, you could put in a good word for me.”

Buck laughed. Andrew was waiting for him at a table. 

“You don’t want to join the 118,” Andrew said after Buck sat down. 

“I — I don’t know, Andrew. I mean I love Hen and Chim and Bobby and I liked everyone else from the station well enough but there’s Eddie to consider too. I doubt he’d be happy to have me around.”

Buck averted his gaze, staring at his coffee instead. 

Andrew chuckled. “You haven’t spoken to him? I thought — Eddie said he was going to talk to you weeks ago.”

“I haven’t spoken to him,” Buck said and he hated how a burst of hope ran through him. He glanced back up at Andrew. “I’ve been...I’ve been busy, though. Is he, is he mad at me about it, still?”

“I don’t think he is,” Andrew said. “If he ever really was. Look, Buck, my brother is stubborn. We both know that. He needed time. Maybe less than he got if we’re honest, but he did...and more importantly, you needed time. And look at you, look at what you’ve done. What you are. You did all of this on your own and you needed to.”

Buck didn’t know how to respond. He took a gulp of his coffee. It was hot, maybe a bit too hot, but the slight burn on his tongue felt good. 

“You should talk to him,” Andrew said. “If you want. Or you should join the 118. Or you can go somewhere else and be whoever and whatever you want to be. All, I’m saying, is that this is all up to you, Buck. You made a choice to save my life and maybe you got something out of that too—”

“By lying,” Buck said, interrupting. “By pretending that I was someone to you and by continuing that charade even when I...when I knew it was going to blow up in my face.” 

Andrew’s fingers were cold when they touched Buck’s hand, taking it into a tight grip. “You did something stupid, but not malicious. And you’re better for it. I know my family, I know the effect that they have on people and I’m not just talking about Pepa and abuela and my parents, but everyone. And you needed them. You needed their kindness and their acceptance and it’s entirely possible that we all needed someone like you. Even, Eddie. Maybe especially Eddie.” 

“I don’t know what to say.” 

“Just answer one thing for me,” Andrew said and he was smirking, full teeth. There was mischief there which meant that Buck couldn’t help but worry. 

“What?” Buck asked. 

“Do you love him? Eddie, that is?” 

Buck’s hand fell away from Andrew’s. And he knew the answer. He absolutely knew the answer which didn’t make it easy to admit. 

“You do,” Andrew said. “That’s why this is so hard. Go talk to Eddie.” 

“Right now?” Buck asked. 

“Why keep waiting?”

“Because I have no idea how to do this,” Buck said. 

“Tell the truth. That always helps,” Andrew said and then he pulled out a pen from somewhere and wrote down Eddie’s address. “Go.” 

“But—”

“Go,” Andrew said, even more insistent. 

Buck looked at Andrew for a beat longer and then glanced back at Ali. “You know, my former co-worker over there wanted me to put in a good word.” 

Andrew laughed, loud and surprised. 

“Of course, I should also add that the first time I stepped into your house there was a bra hanging off of a lamp so I don’t know if I should actually encourage that.” 

“Buck, stop getting distracted and go,” Andrew said pointedly. 

—

Eddie’s yard was not as big as Andrew’s, but it was enclosed and it meant that Legolas had somewhere to run around with Christopher. Eddie did sometimes take him over to Andrew’s place so he could have a bit more space or over to his abuela’s house. On a few occasions, Eddie had even taken Legolas and Christopher to the dog park, but Eddie always worried about the other dogs getting too close to Christopher. Although, as it turned out, Legolas could be pretty protective of him. 

Christopher and Legolas were both out in the yard and Eddie had been keeping his eyes out on them through the kitchen window while he made him and Christopher sandwiches. Christopher was sitting on the grass and petting the dog which meant that Eddie felt okay with leaving them to it for a moment and going to the bathroom. He had barely closed the door before he heard Christopher shouting and some barking. 

“Legolas! Legolas, come back!” 

Eddie ran out. Christopher was standing with only one of his crutches. Legolas was gone. Eddie didn’t see him anywhere. He rushed towards Christopher, who reached for him. 

“Hey, what happened?” Eddie said as he picked him up. “Are you okay?”

“He ran,” Christopher said. “Like when the earthquake happened. Dad, do you think this is another earthquake?” 

It was a real possibility. Eddie was aware that animals acted strange whenever things like earthquakes happened. 

“I don’t know, Chris,” Eddie said and yet the dog was nowhere to be found. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. He can’t get out of the yard.” 

At least, Eddie was sure that he couldn’t. In the time that they’d had Legolas, he hadn’t once tried to get out of the yard. Eddie bent to pick up Christopher’s fallen crutch just as he heard barking, but it was definitely not coming from anywhere in the yard. 

“Daddy, I hear him,” Christopher said. 

It sounded like he was somewhere in the front of the house. So maybe he did have a way to get out of the yard or the door hadn’t been latched properly. 

Eddie set Christopher down and headed to the door leading out of the yard to the front of the house. He heard Christopher following behind him. Eddie stopped short just as he was rounding the house because Legolas was there wiggling excitedly, his tail wagging to and fro as he jumped around and his whole body shook with excitement. Buck was on the ground doing some mixture of petting and hugging Legolas while the dog licked his face. 

“Buck,” Eddie whispered, so low that Buck definitely didn’t hear it. 

Then, Christopher arrived and he didn’t pause like Eddie did. And he yelled, “Buck!” 

Buck glanced at them, then, and he smiled that blinding smile that made Eddie suddenly remember how attracted he was to this man. Buck was there in front of them. He was smiling. He was at Eddie’s house, hugging Eddie’s dog and in the next moment hugging Christopher and laughing. Eddie could only watch. 

“Hi,” Buck said and he had Christopher up in his arms. Legolas walked alongside him. Christopher was speaking too, explaining something or other to Buck, but Eddie couldn’t be bothered to pay him any attention because Buck was right there looking at Eddie with those sea-like eyes. 

“Hi,” Eddie said back after a long beat. “You should come inside.”

Buck nodded. 

Eddie wanted to touch him. He wanted to grasp his hand or his elbow or his shoulder. He wanted to get close enough so that he could smell Buck’s aftershave. He wanted to pull him into his arms and hold onto him tightly. All of those things, he wanted them so that he could be sure that it really was Buck in front of him and he wasn’t experiencing some wild hallucination.

The elusive man that he’d been trying to get ahold of for the last few weeks with no results was there with him and his son and his dog. Eddie had been almost convinced that Buck was avoiding him for all that his attempts to find him were futile. Eddie had even gone as far as to get Maddie’s number off of Chim only for Maddie to tell him to call Buck or show up at Buck’s apartment. Eddie had attempted both a few times on top of texting him and somehow just couldn’t get a response. 

Eddie led Buck inside the house through the front door. Buck only set Christopher down once they were inside and Legolas seemed to want to stick as close to Buck as possible. Eddie didn’t blame him. 

“I was — I’m making sandwiches,” Eddie said. It felt awkward. “Do you—” Eddie cleared his throat. “—do you want to join us?” 

“Uh. Sure,” Buck said. 

Christopher led Buck to the table and Eddie left them to go into the kitchen where he tried not to freak out too much as he pulled out more bread for the third sandwich he was going to be making. He could hear Buck and Christopher talking. Christopher laughed and Buck chuckled a few times. Once, Legolas barked. 

Eddie could only take so long making the sandwiches before he had to take them out of the kitchen. There was a lot to talk about. Apologies to be made. Explanations. But Christopher was there and they couldn’t discuss any of that while Christopher was with them. But, Buck was there. Buck was with them. It was enough to know that Buck had come to them. 

—

Buck had intended to take his time walking up to Eddie’s house, to talk himself into knocking on the door and to maybe not get in his head so much that he couldn’t actually knock. But then, he heard a bark and suddenly golden fur was running at him and Legolas was jumping at him until Buck just dropped to the ground to pet his favorite dog. 

“I’ve missed you so much, boy,” Buck whispered into his fur. “Did you miss me too?” Legolas nudged him and pressed into his space, his whole body moving with all the excitement. 

He was so distracted by Legolas, that Buck didn’t even realize Eddie had come out to find the dog until Christopher was calling his name. 

The next thing he knew, he was hugging Christopher and in a strange sort of daze, he followed Eddie into the house and Eddie disappeared into the kitchen and Buck didn’t know if he could stomach anything Eddie brought out. Christopher was a good distraction. The boy filled him in on a few things. He told Buck about a new coloring book and about Legolas being his dog and about a cartoon he was watching and Buck lost himself to talking to Christopher for a while until Eddie came back. 

Tension hung in the air between them and Buck had expected nothing less. Eddie had welcomed him in, though, and he hadn’t asked Buck to leave. It made Buck think that he’d made the right decision in going to see him. 

He tried to eat, but couldn’t stomach it. His stomach had been taken up by his nerves and maybe in part by the hope he felt and the awe of having Eddie in front of him again. Eddie looked good. He always looked good. 

After he finished eating, Christopher allowed himself to be distracted and settled in front of the tv, Legolas sitting next to him. Eddie motioned for Buck to go to the kitchen. 

“I’m officially a firefighter,” Buck said for lack of something else to say. 

“Oh,” Eddie said. “Congrats. I had no idea.” 

Buck nodded. “I, um, I probably would have never thought of going for it without everything that happened.”

“You’re welcome, I guess,” Eddie said with a snap in his tone. 

“I’m sorry,” Buck said. “I hope you believe me this time. That I never meant to hurt you. Any of you. I came so close to telling you so many times. Something always stopped me — interruptions or my own head. And I should have let it go on for so long or at all, but I’m going to be honest here, Eddie, and just say that I don’t actually regret it. I don’t regret the lie or getting to know you — everyone. I don’t regret any of that. I couldn’t.” 

“You don’t regret it,” Eddie said in a whisper. 

Eddie crossed his arms and he leaned back against his counter and Buck had no idea what to expect, but the one thing he did know to do was to wait and see what Eddie might say. It helped that Eddie didn’t look angry. Mostly, he just looked like he was trying to figure out what to say. 

“At first I thought...I wished you’d never done it,” Eddie said after a beat. “More and more lately, I’ve realized I don’t wish that. I was...I am angry more at myself for not questioning you more and for not realizing sooner that you couldn’t have been with Andrew. I was doubting my own knowledge of my brother...I was doubting everything I was seeing and I think I let so much just go because I wanted you around even if you were my brother’s boyfriend.”

Buck had definitely not expected that. Eddie was frowning in that cute way with lines on his forehead so prominent that Buck wanted to reach over and ease the tension. Really, he could do with touching Eddie in any way or form. He really did love him. Earlier, when he answered Andrew, Buck hadn’t fully known it. But he did. Having Eddie in front of him, it cemented it. 

“You came really close to the truth,” Buck said. “A few times. The day Andrew woke up, I was gonna tell you. I was so ready to and then Chim was telling us he was awake and I was so sure that it was all over anyway.” 

Eddie gasped and he blushed, not quite looking at Buck. “I was so mad that day. Jealous. I was going to kiss you before Chim interrupted.”

“Oh,” Buck said.

Eddie’s eyes met his then and Buck had to swallow before he made the decision to be brave. Buck had been different once, the kind of person that was bold and didn’t hesitate to encroach in someone’s space. That was before Abby and before he realized that all the loneliness he was feeling wouldn’t go away if he had someone warming his bed. In some ways, that had made it worse. 

“Uh, you should — you should kiss me now,” Buck said, moving even closer. 

Eddie’s eyes widened and darkened all at once and Buck lost himself in them as Eddie closed the small bit of space between them. Buck watched him and when Eddie didn’t do anything other than to stand so close to him that he could feel his warmth, Buck reached up to cup his face. Eddie melted into his touch, his lips let out a gasp. Buck closed his eyes and he leaned into Eddie’s space. 

“I love you,” he whispered before he kissed him. 

Their first kiss had been hard and urgent and Eddie had been in control, his anger and his jealousy and everything else he’d been feeling because of Buck’s lies had been everpressent in the way that he’d wanted to show Buck how much he wanted him. This kiss was not that. 

This kiss was tentative and soft and slow. It was an apology and a declaration of love. When Eddie whispered a moan, Buck smiled against his lips. 

“I love you,” Buck said again, their lips brushing lightly as he spoke. He opened his eyes and Eddie was already looking at him. “Eddie?” 

Eddie pressed their lips together into another kiss. His arms brought Buck flush against him and Buck couldn’t think while he could feel all of Eddie against him, his muscles and his toned stomach and how Eddie kissed away from his mouth, nipping at his jawline up to his ear. 

“I love you too,” he whispered, his lips brushing Buck’s earlobe. “Even if you are a liar.”

“One lie,” Buck said back. “And one I won’t ever regret.”

Eddie chuckled. “Just as long as you don’t pretend to be anyone else’s boyfriend.”

“Am I yours?” Buck asked, a tinge of nervousness travelled through him. 

“I think that’s obvious,” Eddie said. “Otherwise, I don’t know what will happen the next time you save someone, Firefighter Buckley.” 

Buck couldn’t help but laugh. “I love you so much, Eddie. Been kinda miserable without you.” 

“Serves you right,” Eddie said, but he kissed Buck again, just a peck. “But I love you too.”

“Good,” Buck whispered back, dropping his head onto Eddie’s shoulder and dropping a kiss there. 

There were probably still a few things to clear up and more to catch up on, but all of that could come later. It made up the mere details in everything they’d been through. In the meanwhile, Buck just held onto Eddie and Eddie held onto him. 

“You know, we do have to thank Andrew for all of this,” Buck whispered. 

“Nope,” Eddie said. “He doesn’t get any satisfaction out of any of this.” 

—

“Welcome to the 118, Firefighter Buckley,” Bobby said, smiling at Buck. 

Eddie didn’t try to hide his own smile, Andrew noted and Buck was definitely grinning from ear to ear. He was already in uniform and there was an ease to the way that he walked and how Andrew could tell even from where he was standing that Buck felt like he was at home. Hen nudged him from where she stood next to him and Andrew glanced at her. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad this all worked out,” she said, “but I don’t even get when that all happened with Buck and Eddie.” 

Andrew chuckled. “You know, I think most of it happened while I was sleeping.” 

–

Notes: This fic has been such a joy to write. I just want to thank everyone that’s read this and that has left commens/kudos because that means so much and one of the reasons this fic got finished by keeping me writing even when I began to lose interest in working on this. 

I hope this ending was satisfying for all of you and just thank you all so much. Let me know what you all thought. :)

Tagging: @tranquility-or-chaos @diazbuckleysworld @stilesgivesmefeels

#911 fox #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #buck x eddie #911 fox fic #fic #my fic #I'm With You

[carmenlire]

Sapphire and Moonlight

read on ao3

Magnus has a moment to think that he’s never seen Alec so relaxed. He loves his boy to death but it’s a statement of fact that his husband was wound tighter than most toys.

Not now it seems.

No, looking across the table, Magnus watches as Alec takes another sip of his Rioja and seems to sink into his seat a little further. It’s their first time in Spain and as soon as they’d crossed the portal into their private villa, it had seemed like a weight had slid off Alec’s shoulders.

Spending most of the day at the beach, they’d decided to get ready for dinner and now here they are at a small restaurant enjoying fresh seafood and a bottle-- or two-- of wine. Alec had surprised him once again when he’d immediately ordered a glass of Finca Allende Aurus and made his steady way through a few glasses before ordering another bottle in perfect Spanish.

Magnus had assumed that he would be ordering for the two of them but as soon as the waiter had come over that first time, Alec had discussed the menu with him in fluent Spanish, accent and all. While he supposes he shouldn’t be all that taken aback, it’s obvious that Alec is not only comfortable but happy to talk in the language.

Thinking about it now, it makes a different kind of sense why he’d only heard Alec speak a few scant words but only when he was so exhausted he was mostly unconscious. It had only been a time or two but occasionally, Alec liked to call him cariño or bebé right before he fell asleep. Magnus had thought those the only words he knew but it’s obvious that’s not the case now.

As the waiter comes back to their table, Magnus takes a sip of his own sangria. His brow climbs nearly to his hairline as he hears Alec talk to the waiter as he lets him inspect the bottle before pouring another glass.

“Gracias,” Alec says warmly and brings the glass up to his lips with a little hum of contentment.

The waiter smiles and it’s obvious that he’s very glad not to be dealing with tourists who had no idea how to speak the language as he asks, “¿Todo es de su agrado?” Although Magnus supposes his good will could also be the fact that the wine Alec’s drinking is over a hundred euros a bottle.

Alec doesn’t hesitate before he reassures him, “Es perfecto. Gracias otra vez.”

As the waiter leaves, Magnus smiles over at Alec and he only lets a little bit of his surprise bleed through. Mostly, he’s teasing.

“You seem awfully comfortable there, Alexander. If I had known how much you’d enjoy Palma de Mallorca, I would’ve whisked us away for a trip here months ago.”

Alec takes one last bite of food and sets his fork down with a sigh. “I love it here, even if I haven’t been to Spain since I was a teenager.”

“You’ve been here before,” Magnus asks, with just a touch of incredulity.

Shrugging, Alec reaches for Magnus’s hand where it’s resting on the table between them. He runs an absent thumb over his wedding band as he offers, “You don’t need to sound so disbelieving. You know that I’ve visited institutes all over the world. But, Spain does hold a special place in my heart,” he admits.

“Oh?” Magnus’s voice is soft as he prompts Alec. While the two of them had confided a lot to each other-- and Magnus was always eager to learn more about his love-- it’s obvious that Alec is in a good mood and he’s loathe to do anything that could jeopardize that.

It’s a painful fact for both of them that their pasts are littered with landmines.

Luckily, Alec just relaxes back into his seat as he toys with the stem of his wine glass.

“My mother’s family was from Spain. We used to take the summers and come to their estate right outside of Madrid. It was a little seaside town-- not unlike here-- and while my parents labelled it a training opportunity, we all knew it was a chance to get away from New York’s heat for a couple of months and away from the prying eyes of the Institute.”

Magnus smiles a little, thinking, “I like imagining you running around a little coastal town. It’s charmingly unexpected.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Alec replies with a self deprecating laugh. “I spent mornings training outside, sparring with Jace and a few of the household staff who were my age. Evenings were spent with my grandfather--” and Magnus notes that while there’s a wince accompanying the words, Alec’s eyes betray fondness as he continues, “And he’d pour us both a glass of scotch-- which I hated-- and we would move on to the more refined qualities anyone at my level would need to know.”

“The infamous dance lessons,” Magnus asks with a quirked brow.

Laughing sheepishly, Alec brings the hand not holding Magnus’s up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, dancing and conversation and culture-- we read three books a week and discussed them for hours after dinner. He was a hard man but fair and I miss him.”

“Oh,” Magnus realizes. “That must be why you stopped going when you were a teenager?”

Alec ducks his head in a jerk of a nod. “Yeah, he was old-- by shadowhunter standards, anyway. He was a stubborn man, though, and no matter that he had a busted leg from a mission gone wrong in his thirties, he still liked to prove that he was just as capable as anyone else. The old bastard was on the roof trying to fix a few loose shingles-- don’t ask me why considering he was rich as Croesus and had over a dozen staff he could’ve asked-- and he ended up falling and breaking his neck.”

“Well, shit,” Magnus replies succinctly.

“Yeah,” Alec agrees. “It hit mom pretty hard and she ended up selling the family estate before the next summer had rolled around. While the two had fought off and on-- I only knew because I was the oldest but I don’t think Izzy or Max picked up on it-- Spain was really the only time I think mom felt free. She wasn’t the Head of an Institute or an ex Circle member there; She was just Maryse. She was a little less--”

“Abrasive,” Magnus offers dryly.

“Yeah,” Alec says softly. “She was more of a mom during those trips than I can ever remember her being in New York.”

“It sounds like a good memory,” Magnus says lowly, finishing off his sangria. “Is that where you learned Spanish?”

There’s a glint in his eye but Alec meets his gaze in a challenge with his own grin that edges toward wicked.

“Oh, ¿no habías notado eso? I don’t know why you’re surprised that I can speak it. You’ve met Izzy, after all.”

Magnus just sends him an arch look. “That’s your sister, darling. I’ve never heard you speak Spanish before. Really, I’ve never heard you speak another language at all. I thought Isabelle was the only one who spoke it in your family.”

Alec’s voice is dry as he replies, “I speak twelve languages, babe.” He winces a little. “Though my Korean is only at a conversational level.”

“Twelve,” Magnus repeats dumbly.

Alec grins. “An even dozen,” he says proudly. “I grew up speaking English and Spanish between one word and the next. Most shadowhunters know three or four but with the added expectation that I’d become the Head of the Institute one day, I started language tutors before I went to the Academy.”

“Aren’t you just full of surprises.”

“I’ve got to keep you on your toes somehow, don’t I?”

Magnus doesn’t respond besides a quiet smile and the two of them enjoy the warm evening air for a while longer. Magnus orders another glass of sangria-- and another-- while Alec makes steady progress through his second bottle.

The low light glints off the deep red of Alec’s wine and when he tips his glass back for a final swallow, Magnus’s gaze catches on his mouth. Alec sees the direction of his look and his eyes darken even as he stands, using his grip on Magnus’s hand to pull him up, too.

“What are you doing, Alexander?”

“Es una hermosa velada y quiero bailar con mi esposo.”

Surprised, Magnus follows Alec to the very small clear space. There’s a lone musician in the open-air restaurante playing a guitar. It’s something slow with an easy rhythm and as Alec draws him close, Magnus closes his eyes, sinking into the moment.

Alec’s a wonderful dancer. He’d been surprised that first time he’d taken him to Pandemonium only to find that once Alec decided to let go, he could move. It was more than that, though. At their wedding last year, Magnus couldn’t hold back his surprise when Alec pulled him into an expert waltz.

Like everything else seems to come back to, he’d learned that Alec had taken extensive etiquette lessons growing up. That, combined with his natural athleticism, had combined to make Alec a goddamn menace when he was in the right mood.

Like tonight.

It’s late enough so that there are only a couple of occupied tables. Deciding to ride this wave as long as Alec’s into it, Magnus keeps his eyes closed and tucks his head under his husband's. Nosing along his deflect rune, laying a bare kiss against the pulse at his throat, he feels more than hears Alec hum in contentment.

Not quite a moan but but they are in public, after all-- and while they’d both been delighted to learn that wasn’t necessarily a deterrent-- Magnus thinks it’s time they head back to the villa they’ve rented for the duration of their stay.

Tilting his head up until he can bite Alec’s earlobe, Magnus whispers, “Llévame a la cama, cariño.”

He feels the shudder that rolls through Alec at the low words and Magnus tucks away the knowledge of just how affected his husband became when he spoke Spanish, too.

He figures it’s only fair since hearing Alec speak with such lazy confidence had climbed very high up on his favorites list as soon as he’d heard the lilting tones, the way his New York accent gave way to the more sonorous tones demanded of a romantic language.

When Alec pulls back, he does so just enough to meet Magnus’s eyes. And Magnus can’t resist.

He pulls Alec infinitesimally closer until he can kiss those wine-stained lips. He tastes the full-bodied red that had made Alec’s cheeks so delightfully flushed and his husband immediately opens for him, pulling him deeper until they’re both out of breath and half out of their minds.

When the kiss ends, the music is still playing and when he takes a quick glance around the mostly empty restaurant, it’s to find that no one’s paying them the least bit of attention.

Deciding to take that for the blessing it was, Magnus urges Alec off the makeshift dance floor and unto the sidewalk a few yards away. With an absent wave of his hand, he makes sure there are enough euros laying on their table for a very generous tip and it’s the work of a moment to whisk Alec into a small alley between one business and the next.

Thinking of summoning a portal, every thought flies out of his head as Alec leans into him. The wall is rough at his back but it serves as a wonderful counterpoint to the long line of heat in front of him. Sliding one thigh between his, Alec’s breath ghosts over Magnus’s lips as he says, "Me vuelves loco, ¿lo sabías?”

“Show me.”

Magnus has barely voiced the words when Alec catches his lips in a searing kiss. It spins out for long, hazy moments and when Magnus hitches a leg around Alec’s hip for better leverage, they both groan at the contact. Distantly, he thinks that he’d never been so happy to leave his shirt mostly unbuttoned as it grants Alec quick and complete access and when he spreads a hand over his chest, sweeping it down until it rests just above his belt, Magnus is fairly sure he’s losing his mind but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

It takes more effort than Magnus knew he had but Alec eventually pulls back and when he opens his eyes it’s to see Alec’s have darkened and the intensity in his stare is enough to make Magnus give serious thought to just casting a glamour over the two of them and picking right back up from where they’d just left off.

But then Alec has to go and soften the moment, reaching for Magnus’s hand and raising it up to his mouth for the gentlest kiss against his wedding ring and it makes something in him melt, the raw affection and overwhelming devotion on Alec’s face.

A portal opens and they step through without wasting a moment or letting go of each other’s hands. It wasn’t a conscious choice but when they enter the villa it’s via the bedroom and Alec huffs out a laugh against the back of Magnus’s neck as he wraps his arms around him from behind.

“Impatient are we,” Alec murmurs and the whisper of his breath against his bare skin makes Magnus shudder in his hold.

Their villa is on the edge of town, oceanfront, and the breeze blows through the open french doors, gives everything a deliciously brazen air.

“Just don’t want to waste a moment, cariño,” Magnus manages to say and it takes more brain power than it should to recall that particular moniker but it’s more than worth it when Alec fairly growls against his neck and moves them both toward the bed.

The breath is knocked from his chest as Magnus finds himself on his back, Alec staring down at him with eyes that make Magnus think he never needs to breathe again, not when he has everything he’ll ever need standing in front of him.

Blinking slowly up at Alec, his glamour disintegrates between one moment and the next as Alec leans over him, hands caging him in. He hears Alec’s sharp intake of breath as their eyes meet but then his own are closing as his husband leans in and kisses the shell of his ear, his cheek, the dip of his chin, before finally murmuring against his lips, “I love you so much, amor mío.”

He doesn’t give Magnus a chance to respond as he closes that last bit of distance and the kiss is different than it was in the alley just a few minutes before. It’s slow and deep and so damn good that Magnus feels his toes curl against the plush bedding. A noise wraps its way around his throat, comes out a choked off keen when Alec pulls away for a split second only to close his mouth over his pulse, biting down and sucking before soothing the sting with his tongue.

“Oh, God, Alexander,” and Magnus doesn’t know what language the words come out but it must be one of those dozen because he feels Alec’s grin against his throat before he does it all over again until Magnus is writhing under him. When Alec brings one hand up and buries it in his hair, pulling just a little as he tilts Magnus’s head up for more room to work, Magnus groans long and low, hips rolling up to meet Alec in a bare parody of what he really wants.

Sliding his hands down the wide expanse of Alec’s back until his nails dig crescents into the small of his back, Magnus grins wickedly as Alec groans hoarsely against his neck. He urges him closer and it devolves for a few minutes as Alec grips his thigh, bringing it up to wrap one leg around his waist until they’re grinding against each other, slow, filthy, thrusts that do so much for Magnus but just not enough.

Sparks drag down his spine and when Alec pulls back, starts kissing down his front, Magnus feels the loss in his goddamn chest.

“Come back here, darling, lo estabas haciendo tan bien,” Magnus tries desperately but Alec just laughs against his stomach and when Magnus looks down, he sees Alec staring up at him with eyes blown hazy with lust and mouth bitten red.

“Don’t worry, bebé, I’ve got you.” Alec’s voice is hoarse, low like the words are being scraped from his throat and Magnus shudders at the promise laden in the tone.

It’s the work of a moment to shrug out of his shirt and Magnus sighs as he feels the cool sheets against his back. He feels Alec’s hands at his belt, taking care-- too much care, Magnus thinks with a groan-- and staying away from where Magnus wants him most.

Alec slowly starts to peel his jeans down and Magnus lifts his hips to make it easier-- he doesn’t want to waste a fucking second-- but Alec freezes with them halfway down his thighs. It takes him a moment to wonder why Alec had stopped so much progress but when he realizes, he relaxes against the bed and stares up at the ceiling with a satisfied grin.

“Like what you see?”

Alec doesn’t say anything, just bends down and nips at the jut of his hip bone, nosing along the the edge of blue lace. His breath ghosts over Magnus’s cock before he leans in and sucks through the lace until it’s damp and the suction, Alec’s wonderful mouth, is a teasing hint that makes Magnus lose his breath.

He lets off after a moment before gently closing his mouth over the satin bow at the front, giving it a light tug that hardly does more than just remind Magnus of how close Alec is-- so close but so goddamn far away-- before he makes short work of the rest of his jeans.

And then Magnus is sprawled in their bed in nothing but the lace and Alec sits back as he studies him in the low light that filters through their sheer curtains. Magnus feels on display but it’s something he relishes-- the heat in Alec’s eyes, the possessive glint that neither have ever outright acknowledged but which both love, the warmth woven through, all of it making Magnus’s heart beat almost painfully in his chest.

“Hermoso,” he hears Alec whisper and then he’s picking back up where he left off.

He kisses a trail down Magnus’s inner thigh, pausing here and there to bite and soothe, until he reaches his foot. Wrapping a hand around his ankle, Alec takes a moment to admire the nail polish that matches his fingers that matches the underwear.

“God, you’re killing me, adorado.”

Moonlight bounces off warm skin and the way Alec’s holding onto him grounds him, makes Magnus wish that the grip was a little harder, that it held just a bit more bite.

He feels Alec nibble at the delicate bone of his ankle as he sweeps a thumb over the arch of his foot. It’s such a small touch but it sets every nerve ending firing, the entirety of Alec’s promise concentrated on the area and Magnus fairly startles when Alec switches course and instead kisses Magnus’s foot, closing his mouth over a toe and giving a leisurely suck that goes straight to Magnus’s cock, that has him arching off the bed as a shot of lust travels straight to his gut where it simmers there, waiting for whatever Alec does next.

Taking the reaction for the encouragement it is, Alec moves onto the other foot, repeating the process as one hand sweeps from ankle to the inside of Magnus’s thigh, rubbing soothing circles over the soft skin there.

Turning Magnus over, he almost sobs as he finally has the friction of the sheets against his aching cock. Slowly making his way back up Magnus’s body, Alec licks a strip over the back of his thigh, bites into the meat of his ass through sheer lace.

Magnus shudders, wishes desperately that Alec would move just a few inches over, would rip the goddamn underwear away and stop teasing. He can already feel how amazing Alec’s mouth would be, wrapping around his rim, fucking him in a way that never fails to scorch his insides.

Alas, Alec pulls back and cool air ghosts over him, makes his fever burn brighter. He hears the rustle of clothing that means his husband is finally undressing and then Alec keeps travelling up until he’s a long line of warmth over him. Magnus sinks into the mattress, thrusting against the bed in little aborted movements, wiggling his hips in an effort to get Alec to move, to do something, anything, but Alec doesn’t take the hint.

He feels him, hard and hot against his ass but Alec seems content to kiss over Magnus’s shoulders, stubble scratching softly over his back, and Magnus finds himself torn between rutting into the bed sheets and arching his back to chase Alec.

Alec peppers words against his spine and they’re so low that Magnus only catches a few.

“Mi adoración,” Alec’s voice is so deep that it buries itself in Magnus’s chest and a part of him that’s growing increasingly hazy thinks that he could get off just from this, just from Alec pinning him to the bed and whispering against his skin in those languid tones. “No sabes lo que me haces.”

Running a hand over sapphire lace, Alec’s move is impossibly deep as he rasps, “I like these. I love when you surprise me with lace and silk and satin. Do you think of me,” he asks hoarsely. “Do you think of me when you slide them on, when the fabric hugs your cock and ass the way I want to?”

“Yes,” he gasps. “Yes, Alexander.”

He feels Alec grin against his back and it’s sharp before he hooks his thumbs in the waistband and drags them down and goddamn him, but goosebumps erupt on Magnus’s skin as the soft material slides down overheated flesh but not before it catches on the head of his cock.

He’s startled when he feels Alec’s finger rub over his rim before easing inside and he has no idea when Alec had the time or range to reach for the lube but he’s blissfully grateful as Alec lets him get used to the first digit just a moment before he withdraws and comes back with two.

Spreading his thighs with one of his own, Alec fucks him open slowly, making little noises of encouragement when Magnus tries to move back on those fingers, clenching down when Alec hits a particularly sweet spot.

“Just fuck me already,” Magnus whines and the words come out high, betrays the ledge Magnus has been teetering on, and they take more oxygen than they should so that he gasps as Alec’s teeth worry the juncture of where his neck meets his shoulder as he adds a third finger.

“But I’m having so much fun,” Alec says and God, Magnus can just hear the smirk in his voice, knows that in the same way he loves being the object of Alec’s lust, Alec gets off on reducing Magnus to nothing but a fucking puddle, his for the taking.

Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, Magnus moans as Alec starts hitting his prostate every third thrust or so and he chases that sensation, loses himself in the way sparks claw up his spine with each roll of his hips.

At one point, Alec stops and lets Magnus fuck himself on his hand and he’s shameless, chasing his own pleasure as one hand trails down to wrap around his cock--

But just as he gets a hand around himself, Alec removes his own from where he’d been working Magnus open, knocking Magnus’s off and the feeling of being empty is almost too much.

Magnus sobs out a breath, desperately pleading, “Please, Alexander.”

Alec grabs his hip, pushes him into the bed before leaning over him. Like this, there’s no leverage and when his husband-- his beautiful, darling husband-- braces himself and guides his cock to Magnus, all he can do is take it.

Taking his time, Alec finally bottoms out after what feels like an eternity and Magnus wants to do something but Alec pins him to the mattress and stays there.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t shift. He seems perfectly content to lay over Magnus forever, driving him insane. Magnus could almost think that Alec’s unaffected but he hears the rasp of his breath against the back of the neck, feels the tension it’s taking Alec to hold back.

Finally, Alec moves. He withdraws slowly before pushing back in, setting up an excruciating pace that has Magnus seeing stars at the thick drag of Alec’s cock in him, at the way his pace lets every sensation light him up, one lapping over another until Magnus can’t take a breath without moaning Alec’s name.

“Dios, te siento rico, amor,” Alec murmurs against sweat-slick skin. “I could do this for hours, for days, until you can’t think of your own name. Until all you know is mine.”

Magnus wants to say that he’s already there, that his world has tilted, focusing until the only thing that matters is Alec, the way he knows just what he likes. The words get trapped in his throat though, punched out of him as Alec shifts angles and hits his prostate head on for two, three, four thrusts in a row.

Running his hand up Magnus’s back, Alec fists his hand in Magnus’s hair and pulls and the sensation goes right to his gut, makes his gasp like a dying man as he clenches down around Alec.

After that, Magnus loses track of things. Alec’s pace gradually increases until he’s pounding into Magnus and Magnus knows that he’ll have bruises at his hips and fuck, just the thought of wearing Alec’s marks almost pushes him over the edge.

“Me encanta la forma en que me tomas,” Alec drawls against Magnus’s shoulder. “I love the way you fuck me, the way you let me fuck you.”

Magnus shudders at the words but Alec doesn’t let up. “You’re so hot, fuck, so tight around me, Magnus. I never get used to it.”

Alec uses his grip to urge Magnus up and Magnus whines at the bare-second loss before he realizes that Alec’s given him room to maneuver, implicit permission to chase his own pleasure.

The realization has only a moment to sink in before Alec’s wrapping a firm hand around his cock. Magnus follows the dueling pleasure, fucking Alec’s fist before moving back onto his husband’s cock and it doesn’t take more than a dozen thrusts before he’s stilling and spilling across ivory linen.

Groaning as Magnus contracts around him, Alec’s mouth closes over his shoulder and he bites, hard, as he comes, fucking Magnus through it until he’s too sensitive.

He doesn’t tell Alec to stop, though, and the pleasure has a razor’s edge of pain that stalls the breath in Magnus’s chest, that makes him want to bear down and take all Alec can give him.

He’s half hard again by the time Alec slows, all but collapsing against Magnus.

The sound of the ocean drifts through the room, over their ragged breathing. Magnus doesn’t move-- doesn’t think he could even if he wanted to-- and it takes long minutes before their hearts stop racing.

When Alec pulls out, they both moan at the loss and it doesn’t take long before Magnus feels Alec’s come start dripping out of him.

He shivers when his husband reaches out, rubbing it into his skin in a way that makes Magnus feel both debauched and viciously satisfied.

Alec kisses the dip of his spine, laying a saccharine trail up until he reaches Magnus’s neck. Falling until he’s on his side, he rubs Magnus’s back in a slow, sweeping motion. He floats on the wave of Alec’s warm affection, the heat banked to a steady glow now.

Just when he feels the edge of sleep beckoning, Alec moves closer, nosing along his hairline as he murmurs, “Eres mi corazón, Magnus. Mi propia vida.”

Turning his head, Magnus slowly opens gold eyes to see Alec staring at him with something indefinable in his gaze. It sears into him as only his love can and he smiles, just a little, as he softly replies, “And you’re mine, Alexander. Te amo, cariño.”

He watches Alec grin, the way Magnus’s words make his face light up and Magnus thanks every deity and demon for the thousandth time that they found each other and made it here, to this point, to this little seaside villa where Magnus thinks he could drown in the love pouring off Alec in waves.

Oh, but what a way to go, he thinks dizzily.

With a negligent wave of his hand, Magnus changes the sheets and cleans them up. Turning onto his side, he lifts an arm for Alec to come closer and hums as he feels his husband tuck his head against his neck, as Alec hitches a leg over his hip and hugs him close.

Running an absent hand through Alec’s hair, Magnus kisses the top of his head and lets sleep pull him under.

He barely catches the words whispered against his throat, the kiss against his pulse so light that he almost misses it.

“Mi vida, mi cielo."

#this is shamelessly self indulgent #sapphire and moonlight #my writing #malec pwp

[lovemesomerafael]

EL AMOR TODO LO PUEDE Chapter 27:  Fatally Friend- Zoned

Source: @repls

Chapters 1-25  Chapter 26

“I met someone.”

The storm of emotions unleashed by those three words took Laura by surprise.  

“Huh.” What else could she say?  Peter wasn’t hers.  

“I thought I should tell you.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“Do you want me to tell you about her?”

“Oh, hell no. But thank you for giving me credit for being more evolved than I am.”

She most definitely did not want to know about whoever Peter had started seeing. In fact, she wanted to scream and cry and throw a tantrum.  Fuck reason and maturity.  

“Are you OK?”  Peter’s voice was quiet and kind; he could guess what she was probably feeling.  

“I don’t know.  I’m jealous as fuck, and I feel…  I don’t know what I feel.  But it doesn’t matter, because this is how it has to be.” 

Peter and Laura sipped their drinks in thoughtful silence as she looked around the bar, trying to take in this realignment of their relationship.  She supposed it was time to let him know just how much their relationship had realigned since they’d last seen eachother.

“I… think I met someone, too.  I mean, I did, but I don’t know if he did.” 

“What does that mean?”

“It means he’s… complicated.  Hard to know.  Doesn’t trust anyone, doesn’t want to.” 

“Huh.  A challenge.  That must be… exciting, I guess.”  Suddenly Peter had to make his own decision about whether to throw a tantrum.  It was tempting.  Fuck, this was hard.  

Laura brought her eyes back to him, sitting across the small table from her. “You ok?”

“Jealous as fuck.”  He repeated her comment, grinning sadly.  “Which I know makes no sense in the circumstances.”

“Of course it does.  We love eachother.  If I could keep you all for myself forever, I would.  Even if I was with someone else.  That’s just how it is.  If you feel the same way, then at least there’s that.” 

He thought about that for a minute.  “I guess this means we have to keep our hands to ourselves from now on.”

“Maybe we should only meet in public places.” 

This was the first time they’d seen eachother since they’d watched the Cubs game at Peter’s apartment, several months before.  They’d texted and called a few times, but they were both on second careers and both ambitious, not to mention that they’d chosen careers that were time-consuming to begin with.  They just hadn’t had the opportunity to get together.  

And, if Peter was honest with himself, he had been getting a little too hung up on Laura again for his own comfort.  For her part, Laura remembered that most of her reason for sleeping with Peter that night had been that she thought Rafael had rejected even her friendship.  But she also remembered that the reason she slept with Peter the next day had been all Peter.  That wasn’t good, because this day was always going to come.

“Laura?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t ever ask me to double date with you.”

“Fuck, no. Never.  Don’t worry.”

Another thoughtful silence followed.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell her if she hurts you, I’ll reach down her throat and pull out her lungs.”

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

In the month or so since the street fair, something fundamental had changed in Rafael and Laura’s friendship.  Rafael had at last decided to take advantage of Laura’s wifi that weekend, which meant that he was in her apartment when she miraculously made it home for dinner that Sunday night.  Since it was dinnertime and they were together, it just seemed natural to have dinner together, and then Rafael had continued working while Laura sat across the table from him, playing her online role playing game.  

That Monday night they’d both worked late, but again on Tuesday night, they found themselves together in her apartment for dinner.  And so began a sort of habit that continued of its own inertia even after Rafael’s wifi was back online.  Of course, it wasn’t entirely inertia – Laura somehow broke through her usual romantic ineptness to figure out that, if she simply texted him and asked if he wanted to have dinner together, he would then have the opportunity to say yes. And he did.  

It didn’t happen often, but usually at least once a week. They always had plenty to talk about and, although they laughed constantly, they’d also shared some pretty personal pieces of their lives with each other.  Laura had begun to make more of an effort to make it home by dinnertime, even if she didn’t know whether Rafael would have to work late.  She wondered if maybe he did the same thing.  He invited her at least as often as she invited him.

When he’d tried to return the key to her apartment, she’d asked him to keep it.  It seemed like a good idea, she reasoned, that a neighbor should be able to get into her apartment if necessary.  He’d argued about it a little, but he’d also put her key on his key ring.  A few weeks later, he had given her a key to his apartment, in theory so that she could borrow a book they’d discussed.  But he had pointedly not asked for it back.  

Laura thought everything would have been wonderful, except that he had placed a hard boundary between them.  He was happy to see her.  Laura knew it.  All her instincts about people, which she knew were reliable, told her that.  And he was interested.  She knew that, too.  The way he looked at her, the way he touched her (when he touched her), even the way he spoke to her told her that.  So why didn’t he respond to her invitations?  Why could she stand too close to him, find reasons to touch him, lean in when it seemed like he might kiss her, and flirt absurdly with him, without him ever walking through the massive doors she kept opening for him?  Could she really be misreading him that badly? And if she was, why wouldn’t he say something?  It wasn’t like she was being subtle.  She’d left subtle several miles back.  

She never asked herself why she didn’t just make the move herself. She didn’t have to.  She knew that it was fear, pure and simple.  She would be crushed if he rejected her – even more crushed than she’d been after their first dinner together, because now she knew him so much better.  And cared so much more.

Rafael: You home?

Laura: Yeah

Rafael: Dinner?

Laura: Pizza?

Rafael: Tedious.  Thai.

Laura: We had Thai last time.  Mexican.

Rafael: I heard about this place that makes a bacon-wrapped mozzarella-stuffed cheeseburger with a grilled cheese bun.

Laura: Hipster.

Rafael: Is that a yes?

Laura: You order.  I’ll be up.

Laura knocked at Rafael’s door about twenty minutes later. As he opened the door, she felt a familiar sensation in the pit of her stomach as she took in his slightly mussed hair, his blue button-down shirt, his immaculate slacks, and the unmistakable pleasure on his face at seeing her.  She saw him taking in her old, torn jeans, which he always made fun of, and her rose-colored T-shirt top with the loose neckline and the darker overshirt, which stopped pretty much exactly where her waistband started, meaning that a sliver of skin showed when she moved.  She’d seen him notice that before.  It wasn’t an accident that she was wearing that shirt.

Rafael looked down at Laura’s jeans as she walked past him into his apartment.  “You might need an exterminator.  That looks like mice.”

“Not your best line.  I still like the one about crazed weasels the best.”

The news was playing quietly on the television in Rafael’s living room.  Laura plopped comfortably on his couch, knees pulled up.  “What’d I miss?”

“Jumper on the Triborough Bridge dressed like a pirate.” Rafael took his usual spot on the other end of the couch and put his feet up on his coffee table.  

“I love New York.”

Laura noticed again the immense difference between her apartment and his.  Even though they had the same floor plan, they hardly seemed like they belonged in the same building.  His apartment was tasteful and pristine.  He’d hired a decorator who had created an environment that was based in tranquil grays, but with frequent splashes of color.  Everything was well-planned and in its place.  It was so Rafael that Laura had actually laughed the first time she saw it.  She loved it.

When the food arrived, Rafael asked whether she would like to change channels and watch something less unappetizing.  Laura giggled.  

“Are cheesy action movies more appetizing than the news?”

“Claro.[1]  Because they’re completely fake, and the good guy always wins.”

“It scares me that that makes complete sense.”

“It should.  So. Arnold, Jean-Claude, Sly?”

“Something where a lot of shit blows up.  You know, Harvard, it still freaks me out that you have such lowbrow taste in movies.”

“I’m so ashamed.”  Rafael smirked as he looked through the apps on his television to find a movie.  

An hour later, a skyscraper and several cars were on fire and a musclebound actor in bloody clothing was running around with a gun while Laura, curled up on the end of the couch, slept peacefully.  Rafael had no interest in the flaming skyscraper, cars, or musclebound actors.  He was watching Laura.  He found it sweet that she was incapable of watching a movie from beginning to end without falling asleep, even when the movie was as loud and filled with explosions as this one.  But he wished she’d fallen asleep snuggled against him.  

He watched her sleep, taking the opportunity to look at her for as long as he wanted.  He expected that she’d wake up when the closing credits played, as she usually did. He loved the way her ridiculous jeans fit, and the swath of abdomen revealed where her shirt pulled up.  He loved that Laura had pushed her feet against his leg as she stretched her legs in her sleep.

He had no idea how they’d gotten here.  One minute, he’d been happy in his work-obsessed world, with some good friends and a big family for the rare occasions he wanted to spend his sparse free time with other people.  He’d been absolutely certain he would never let another woman into his life.  The next, this raggedy, sassy, irresistible woman was asleep on his couch and the only place he’d rather have been was in bed with her.  What the hell was he doing to himself?  The minute she started seeing someone, she would be gone and his evenings would be achingly lonely.  Again. Admit it, Barba, you’ve allowed “happy” to become a pretty low bar.  You’re only seeing that now because she’s showing you what happy really looks like.

He closed his eyes and sighed.  So be it.  That was the price of survival.  He would not, could not, allow himself to fall in love again.  Another crash and burn like Anatalia would kill him.  He would never allow himself to be that vulnerable again.

The closing credits started, but she didn’t waken.  He turned off the TV, reached over and put a hand on her shin, softly calling her name.  

“Hey, time to wake up.  Movie’s over.”

She made a couple of sleepy noises and blinked her eyes open. She sighed as she sat up.  Rafael smoothed her sleep-tumbled hair.  Without thinking, she leaned drowsily against him sitting next to her on the couch, putting her arms around him.  His arms reflexively folded around her.  

“I’m sorry.  I’m the worst date ever.”

Rafael chuckled against her hair.  “Remind me to tell you about the worst date ever.  You’re not even in the top ten.”  He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her on the top of her head; the warm, floral smell of her hair was too tempting.  

He began to move his arm and realized he was about to put his hand under her chin to pull her into a kiss.  Instead, he continued the movement by letting her go and standing up.  He held a hand out to her and helped her up.

They said goodnight and she sleepily made her way down the stairs to her own apartment.  

********

Barba hoped he could get through his meeting with SVU in time to do some more prep for the hearing on Buchanan’s motion in limine this afternoon.  He really needed to win.  If the evidence was kept out, the upcoming trial would be more of an uphill climb than it already promised to be.

As he came through the door into the squadroom, the first thing he noticed was that the squad was all wearing casual clothes. Very casual.  He could see Olivia in her office, wearing leggings and a T-shirt with a jacket tied around her waist.  Carisi was standing at his desk looking like a vagabond, wearing an outfit Barba was pretty sure was old when God was a kid.  Fin looked great.  He sat at his desk wearing soft linen pants and a Hawaiian shirt in surprisingly muted colors, topped with a straw hat.  And Rollins was standing next to him in a bright, flowy skirt and a body-hugging off-the-shoulder top.

And then there was Laura.  She sat on top of her desk, tying those scruffy red Keds. Her ragged cutoffs looked suspiciously like very old jeans that had gotten so battered she had to cut the legs off, with a few white strings hanging from the frayed hem and almost no blue left in any seam.  These shorts had probably been jeans she’d worn in high school, and her T-shirt looked nearly as old.  It had apparently had a picture of Mickey Mouse on it at one time, but the only evidence of that was a shadow that was a bit lighter than the rest of the shirt which, itself, had been… red, maybe?  There was a grey hoodie.  He couldn’t look directly at the grey hoodie.  

For a split second, he noted the difference between Parker and Rollins.  Rollins, with her blue-eyed blonde Southern vibe, was one of those women who is just straight up beautiful.  Barba could appreciate that without it reaching him.  Laura was different.  The hackneyed term “girl next door” didn’t fit, because it implied merely pretty.  Laura was more than pretty.  Her look was more like, “hot girl next door who does very naughty things in the back seats of cars.”  And that look got to him.

Rafael clamped down on all these thoughts.  Que demonios.[2]  He was over forty years old.  He was not about to pitch a tent in the squad room because Laura had on a pair of short shorts.  He felt a distant sense of Catholic guilt as, in the very back of his mind, he suspected he’d be thinking about those shorts later.  When he was alone.

“You ready, Rollins?”  Parker asked happily.  “Let’s go get paid to lay in the park all day.”  

“And get groped.  Don’t forget the groping.”

“That, too.  I still get to play with Frannie, right?”

“Don’t worry, she has more than enough energy for both of us.”

Barba stood in the doorway of Benson’s office.  “So I’m in court all day, while you guys are going on a field trip?”

“Groper in Riverside Park,” she told him.  “You’re welcome to come along.”  

“And will you be taking my in limine hearing?”

“Maybe Frannie will.”  

The meeting between Barba and the squad was necessarily short because they all had places to go.  Barba was glad.  His friendship with Laura already violated enough of his rules; he didn’t need her standing there, all legs and shabby clothes he should have hated, smiling at him.

The squad was getting used to the strange friendship between Parker and Barba.  Why they weren’t dating when the attraction was obvious, no one understood.  What the squad did understand was that the two spent time together outside of work, and seemed to be in each other’s confidence. And they were starting to be annoyingly cliquish.  Not only did they speak Spanish to one another most of the time, but they clearly had secrets.  Or at least private jokes.    

[1] Of course.

[2] What the hell.

#law & order svu #law & order: special victims unit #raul esparza #rafael barba #chicago pd #chicago fire #chicago med #peter stone #philip winchester

[returntoinocense]

The way you make me feel part 2

Penny Haywood x Slytherin fem!mc warnings: none word count: 2869 First part Also on AO3

A/N: I know this took a little too long, I’m sorry for that, there’s a lot going on, but finishing this was refreshing. I hope you like it :) All mistakes are mine.

It was a quiet night at the Slytherin common room. Rowan was across from you, reading a charms book. You were writing back to your parents, finally, after getting your family’s owl with an invitation letter and a possible suitor for you, this morning. You’ve been pretty good at avoiding or rejecting past years suitors, but you know this year they are going to be pushier since you only have one year left at Hogwarts.

You updated them on your relationship status. You’ve been dating for two months now. Everything was so effortless with Penny and your friends were so supportive of your relationship, you couldn’t be happier. But you couldn’t tell your parents she was a halfblood, it was already bad enough, they may say, that she was in Hufflepuff. You thought, what they don’t know can’t hurt, right? But the end of the year was near and so was Christmas. Your family’s annual reunion and celebration at the Y/L/N manor was happening and you couldn’t say no. You’ve gone every year to the boring event. But this year was different, Penny was with you and you wanted to go with her as your date.

Your family was accepting of same sex couples, as long as it was between purebloods. Arranged marriages were pretty common to ensure a pureblood line. But they knew most of the time; love would never come to be between the couple. So once blood was ensured, they encouraged seeking it. But since you were young, they will probably tell you to marry first, have a kid, and then if you are still in love with her you can pursue that relationship.The thought of that made you cringe, leaving Penny for an arranged marriage, possibly breaking her heart beyond repair and even having a kid with a man that you didn’t even know. That’s not an option.

The distress was visible on your face, not to mention you were mumbling to yourself, Rowan noticed instantly.

“You know, it’s a little hard to concentrate when you are over there brooding and talking to yourself” Rowan said exasperated. You looked at her with puppy dog eyes. “Oh don’t look at me like that, I hate when you do that” she puts her book down as Barnaby, who was just emerging from the boy’s wing, sits next to her.

“So, what’s up? Why are you still up?” he said looking at you both with a smile. “Y/N has mommy issues” she said mockingly.

“I don’t have mommy issues. Shut up” You said crossing your arms. Barnaby just tilted his head and was about to speak when Rowan continued.

“Oh yes you do. Look at you, you are a mess, and you are just answering a cursed letter. What are you going todo when you face your parents?” she pauses lifting an eyebrow “Besides, don’t you go every year to the Christmas reunion?”

You sighed and nodded. She was right what were you thinking. You should be thinking what to do, instead of worrying, something that seemed to happen every time you had to answer to your parents. Barnaby looked at you and rushed to your side, hugging you tightly.

“Don’t talk to her like that Rowan, look at her, she’s in pain” for once he seemed to understand, even though he’s an oblivious mess, you were thankful for that. You pushed him lightly to ease the crushing hug.

“No, Rowan is right. But this time I’m bringing Penny” You look at Rowan’s shocked face “well, if she wants to and if she allowed” Barnaby settled on your side with his arm around your shoulders.

“That’s a great idea, Penny would be so happy to spend Christmas with us” he said smiling and shaking you reassuringly.

“Wait, hold up. You, are taking Penny to a celebration full of pureblood elitists?” Rowan looks at you like you just insulted her. “Do you realize the implications? What if they hurt Penny or you? What if you are disowned?”. “Rowan, I thought you were with me on this, they are not going to disown me” You glared at her.

“Look, Y/N, I’m just looking out for the both of you. Don’t you think it would be wiser to wait, I don’t know like a year to present her to your parents? ”. “A year? Rowan I’ve known Penny almost as long as I’ve known you. You’ve met my parents. Why shouldn’t she?”

“First of all, I’m a pureblood. Second of all, I’m a Slytherin and third of All, I’m not your girlfriend.Don’t you think they are going to judge her heavily? And possibly hurt her in the process?”

“Rowan they are not like that. They are distant yeah, but who doesn’t love penny? She’s like a little ray of sunshine” you said with a smile on your face.

“Yeah, she’s cute and kind and smart, what’s there not to love about her?” Barnaby remarked still holding you.

“Look, I’m trying to be helpful I don’t want either of you getting hurt over your elitists parents, okay?” her words were harsh but you knew she was right.  You nodded at her and rested your head on Barnaby’s shoulder looking up at him. “You are going to be there this year… I’m glad” you said with a smile. “Yeah it’s going to be fun” he said cheerful as ever “Promise I’ll get the second dance” Rowan just sighed shaking her head. “You bet” you said smiling and kissing his cheek then looked at Rowan “You are just jealous, you weren’t invited and that I get second dance with Barnaby” you said mockingly and stuck your tongue out at Rowan, who blushed at the last part hiding her face a little on her book.

“Y/L/N!” Merula, who was probably listening, interrupted, just as Rowan was about to answer with a sarcastic comment “What are you whining about now?” Barnaby instinctively held you closer while you looked at Merula. “Do I get to see you at the party?” She said, ignoring the situation completely.

You have both decided to stop being at each other’s throats during last year’s reunion, where she was invited along with her caretakers, to your personal distaste. “Look Snyde, I’m not in the mood right now to argue with you, I just want to sort my things out” you tried to dismiss her. “And it’s not a party; it’s a pretty well organized family and friend’s reunion. I don’t know how you got invited last and this year, and at this point I’m too afraid to ask” you said with annoyance in your voice.

“Oh, well…” she crossed her arms with a smug smile on her face “If going to the ball with Haywood is such a problem, maybe you should take me as your date” she winked at you and you could only blush but still responded at her bold declaration.

“In your dreams Snyde” you wished that was going to be a better come back, but it wasn’t.You just know that you’ll come up with something clever 30 minutes from now. Merula shrugs and goes her merry way.  “Uh... What was that about?”Rowan looks at you confused.  “Merula was invited last year to my family’s celebration and I guess now, we are in good terms, sort of speak”

“Huh, so she gets an invitation and I don’t” she picks her book and starts reading from where she left of “Insulting” you giggle.

“I don’t make the rules; I guess they didn’t like your parents when they met, even though they let me stay at your farm last summer….” You try to make sense of your parent’s logic but fail, despite your best efforts “I figure there’s something they don’t like enough to not invite you.” You escaped from Barnaby’s grasp, stoop up, took his hand and pulled him to sit next to Rowan, on the opposite side of you. “It doesn’t matter anyway because I love you and you’d want to murder everyone in the vicinity if you were there” you hugged her and signaled Barnaby to hug her too just to mess around with her.

“I love you too Rowan” he said with a smile. Rowan blushed as her discomfort grew. “Har har knock it off, you two are so annoying sometimes. It’s almost time for bed so we should get ready.” She pointed at you “And you” she said dragging the last word “need to talk to Penny before you finish that letter” you nodded letting her go.

You weren’t able to cross paths with Penny in the morning, so you just headed to the great hall with Rowan and Barnaby close behind. Merula was being a little pest;ever since she heard you wanted to take Penny as your date for christmas, you’ve wondered if she developed a crush on you, you know what they say, from hate to love there’s only a step.

During breakfast you exchanged looks with Penny, she gave you a little wave and a smile.You always adored her shy smile when she looked at you, her eyes lit up and her cheeks seemed to turn a slight shade of pink. Tonks was sitting next to her, noticing Penny’s obvious heart eyes; she didn’t miss the opportunity to tease her about it. By the looks of it, Penny was already so used to Tonks’s constant teasing that it didn’t seem to bother her that much.

You were making some weird hand signals to them when merula sat in front of you and next to Rowan. Who groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Say, Y/L/N, still second guessing yourself?” she lifted her eyebrow and rested her chin on the back of her hand.

“Bug off Snyde, we are not friends we are merely acquaintances.” You said pointing at her with your index finger.

“Don’t you have someone else to bother, Friends, family, dementors?” Rowan said with disdain.

“Shut up Khanna, I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to her.” She said without taking her gaze off of you.

“What do you want merula?” you asked with a sigh.

“Well, since we have no other choice than to spend Christmas together, we might as well be in good terms. Don’t you think?”She looked behind her shoulder as if looking at Penny “I’m pretty sure your girlfriend over there would love to go, but… ” She looks at you with sheepish smile “she’s a halfblood, so you wouldn’t look good in your parent’s eyes.”

“Get to the point” You said exasperated.

“What if, since you rejected me, she was my date and Barnaby over there would be yours?” at that Barnaby smiles and grabs your arm.

“I’m sorry, I got lost in the part where we were friends and you wanted to help me” you looked at her in disbelief. “I’m not saying Penny can’t handle herself, but I’m not gonna leave her with the likes of you”

“Think about it Y/L/N, you get to take a date to the Christmas party, Haywood gets to meet your family, and Barnaby gets a date, everyone is happy.”

“And you get a date with my girlfriend, nope, not happening” with that you got up and walked out of the great hall exasperated.

The hallways were almost empty; students were just starting to head to their classes. That left you walking alone with your thoughts “Who does she think she is?” you thought to yourself as you heard steps running towards you.

“Y/N!” Penny’s voice called. You stopped on your tracks and waited for her to catch up. “You wanted to talk? Is everything okay?” she looked at you with worry, placing her hand on your shoulder. “I saw you getting out of the great hall, did something upset you?” you couldn’t help but smile at her.

“I can’t believe you understood what I signaled. Yeah… I wanted to talk but, can we go somewhere a little more private or at least, somewhere with less people around?” students started to crowd the hallways as they finished breakfast. Penny looked at you, puzzled but nodded entwining your fingers.

“You were all over the place but, I guess I caught up your gestures enough to understand, and yeah, we can go somewhere else” she smiled and kissed your cheek.

 Walking in comfortable silence with Penny always made you feel better, at home. She understood that sometimes talking wasn’t necessary with you; just being in company was enough to bond. She wasn’t one of your best friends for nothing.

The artefact room has now become one of your safe places for you and your friends’ misbehavior, but it also gave you some peace and quiet, not to mention the response you knew you were going to get from Penny when you tell her about Merula. She might be a Hufflepuff but she had some Slytherin tendencies.

 “So that’s the story, and I love you but I don’t know what to do, my relationship with my parents is already hanging on a thread, with all the cursed vaults and finding Jacob stuff and I really want you to be part of my family, and I know I’m rambling but I mean no disrespect to you or your family, and your sister, she’s adorable, I’m so glad we could find her last year and if anything happens because of my parents I’d be outraged -” Penny stopped your rambling with a kiss on your cheek.

“Hey, Y/N, calm down, I know how much stress your family causes you but, we don’t have to tell them everything” she locked eyes with you “and the suitor? Well, we’ll figure it out and I’d love to go with you” she said as she rested her forehead on yours “if you are still insecure we can, brew a polyjuice potion and I don’t know turn into some dude of your liking”

“No, I love the idea of brewing potions with you but we are going to stay there for a couple of days if you want to that is, and you’ll have to drink every few hours or so, also I don’t like the idea of you not being your lovely self” she hugged you tightly.

“Then let me help you write them back and we can maybe ask Rowan for pointers” she hugged you one last time. “It’s going to be fine don’t worry about it, hero” you smiled at the silly nickname.

“You are the best” you kissed her temple “but…” you hesitated for a second “there’s something else I need to tell you” you look at her “Merula is going too, and she’s been hitting on me, I think, and she even suggested that I take her as my date, then you as her date and I take Barnaby, and I’m so confused”

“She what?” she looks at you incredulous. “She wanted -”Penny interrupted you with a finger on your lips. “I heard you the first time” you noticed the rage in her eyes “That phony little rat, who does she think she is? Hitting on with my girlfriend” she said exasperated “She’s going to be one dead woman if she thinks she can get away with that” she was pacing and talking to herself at this point “She’s crazy if she thinks I will let that slide as if nothing happened” she had one hand on her temple and the other was waving around as if having a heavy argument with someone.

“Penns” you started touching her shoulder “ babe, calm down, she’s not a threat, we proved that years ago” you giggle at that, over the years Merula become as threatening as a little puppy trying to bite your toes off. “And what’s the worst that can happen? She can’t do worse than the devil’s snare on first year” that seemed so far away now “and she’s going to be in my house so I doubt she’ll pull anything. I’m pretty sure she’s a little intimidated by my parents” Penny looked at you, her anger dissipating.

“Yes, you are right; I don’t know why I worry so much. We should head to class before we get in trouble” she said grabbing your hand pulling you out of the artefact room. “I know how much you love herbology” she said giggling, all previous stress gone. You did your best to follow her pace but you couldn’t help but to tease her.

“I think someone is jealous” you said with a smug smile “didn’t take you for the jealous kind” you giggled. “Excuse you? I don’t get jealous, especially not of her” she said stopping on her tracks and looking at you with a serious face, you raised an eyebrow at her and she continuous “Okay maybe a little, but only because she had the nerve to actually ask you out as if it was free game” she said pointing at you, to which you smiled like an idiot. “You are too cute for your own good, well most of the time, the rest you are just genius”

“And you are too charming and sometimes too oblivious to flirting” she giggled “come on we are gonna be late”

#penny haywood #penny haywood x mc #penny haywood x reader #penny haywood x jacob's sibling #hogwarts mystery #hphm

[forthemultiverse]

A Siblings Trust - Batsis!Reader

Requested by Carleyviolingirl28 :

So I was wondering if I could do a request for a middle sibling Batsis type of one shot where she is so focused on missions and school and her responsibilities that she neglects her health (like not eating or sleeping enough) and her brothers don’t notice until she passes out on a mission or something? And could you please include their reactions and what they would do to help her? Thanks!

I’m not sure I followed the request exactly how you wanted me to, sorry, but I hope you like it. This was requested on Quotev and was an interesting change for me; I hope I did Batsis justice since I’ve never written that before. Also, I’ve just started posting these stories over on Wattpad as well as Quotev so if any of you like reading fics on there, *awkward finger guns* I use ForTheMultiverse as my username on there too <3<3

Request are open in case anyone else is wandering :D

You heard the alarm going off the first time. That didn’t mean you were going to listen to it or get up. Not that you didn’t want to get up, you knew you had to, or else you’d end up being late to school, but you also figured that Alfred would eventually come and get you after noticing you hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. When you were late for school, you decided it was Tim’s fault. He’d told Alfred you’d gone in early because he genuinely thought you had. Apparently, it was a believable thing for you to do.

You just about scrambled through the hallway without being seen by anyone, arriving as the bell rang, signalling the end of the second period. If you could slip into the crowd, then no one would question the fact you’d just arrived.

“You look like a mess.” Tim mused, spotting you straight away. He was a few months younger than you, meaning you were in the same school year and most of the same classes. “I covered for you by the way.”

“Why’d you tell Alfred I would already be at school?”

“You’ve left without me almost every day this half term, and I’ve always found you in the library once I’ve got here!” he defended and you stopped walking. He was right. You’d been getting up at four thirty every morning. "See!” he took your stunned face as him being right, and you let him.

“What time do you usually get up?”

“Like six? I do casework for an hour then get ready.” There was a fifteen-minute break after the second period so he could quickly catch you up on everything you’d missed you’d missed. 

“I get up so much earlier than you.”

“You go to bed before me though.” That only made you feel worse. You had to get up early to work on cases because you knew Tim was smarter than you. He would figure everything out if you didn’t work harder. If Tim stayed up later than you, he was getting the same amount of sleep as you but doing so much better than you were. He wasn't oversleeping or accidentally ditching school. He was coping. 

“True…”

“Are you okay? You can go home, take the day off, I’ll get your work for you if you’re too tired?”

“I’m fine,”

“Fine?”

“Great.” Everyone knew that 'fine' never meant fine. 

“Promise?”

“If you’re okay, I’m okay.” you nodded, he was scanning you for weakness, and you weren’t going to let him find any. If he wasn’t oversleeping, neither were you. “Promise.”

“M’kay…” he handed over a few sheets of paper for you to start filling in. He was technically your brother, and you loved him like blood family, but you couldn't bring yourself to say that you needed help. Your family was all about survival, and that's what you were doing. 

Sadly, you couldn’t just zone out for the rest of the day to rest; you needed to help your youngest brother out. Damian didn’t like to ask for help, so you didn’t let him. You just saw Robin in trouble over lunch so disappeared from your friends to suit up. He’d probably be rude to you, but he was family, and you could see him struggling through the live video on your phone.

“What’s happening?” you asked through the comms

“White van has money in it, and the black van is shooting at me.”

“You get the money; I’ll distract.”

“I can do it on my own,” he growled as you appeared around the corner and swung from lamppost to lamppost. 

“You don’t have to though.”

You got yourself ahead of the black van. Jumping over incoming bullets to land on the front - terrifying the driver and stopping the fire for a moment as one of the gunmen clambered into the seat and tried to hit you. Damian took the help and disappeared into the shadows. Maybe you should have given Damian the harder job; he was fully awake while you were off your game. But he was your younger brother, whether he admitted it or not, and as an older sibling, it was your job to protect him. No matter how much slower you were moving, or how sloppy your attacks were - you needed to defend him. 

The bullet missed you because Damian was quick-footed, and watching your back from his takedown. You moved forward, onto the van roof. Tossing one Batarang into the glass and kicking a smoke bomb through the gap. The van swerved across the road, turning fast as it lost control. You tried to keep your balance, but your feet were sliding backwards as it hit the lamppost. The grip on your feet held you on the edge of the van, but bullets were flying everywhere. You ducked and kicked one of the guys as he stopped to rub his eyes. One down. The others weren't so stupid, managing to fire randomly, knowing they'd cause some kind of damage even if they didn't hit you, hoping they'd take a few civilians down before the police arrived. They wanted to make a point, and you couldn't think fast enough to stop them. The gunfire made your ears ring. The second Batarang left your hand, no real aim but managing to knock two guns to the floor before returning to your side - and you sent it straight into the smoke again. No clue what else todo

The smoke started to clear, and a stray bullet was a metre away from hitting you in the stomach. You froze. The first time you'd ever been entirely unable to move. You were tired and unprepared for the entire fight. Your brain raced over how you should have told Tim to go; you should have let Damian deal with this. You didn't need to be here. No one had called you into action. Your stupid sibling override was going to get you shot.

Something wrapped around your leg and pulled, slamming you into the broken van roof, and out of harm’s way.

“The Police have the money, let’s get out of here before you freeze again,” Damian snarled as he released your ankle. 

You both got onto a roof when he finally said something.

“You don’t look good.”

“Whatever, wannabe Bruce.”

“You look tired and old.”

“And why do you care?”

“I don’t!”

“Awe! Do you care about me really, Damian? Do you not like it when other people try to hurt me?” you spoke with a baby voice and grabbed his cheeks, “Is the baby growing up?”

“I’m not a baby.”

“You’re like eight, that’s a baby.”

“I’m eleven!” he yelled

“What’s that? Six?”

“Maybe you're not sloppy; maybe you’re just unskilled, wouldn’t surprise me.”

“I was trained by Batman.”

“And he obviously didn’t care enough to train you well.”

“Don’t make me hurt you,”

“You couldn’t if you tried, maybe I should’ve let you take the bullet to teach you a lesson. Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone move as slow as you were.”

“Screw off Dami.”

“Tssk!” he stormed off, and you jumped off the roof to return to school, knowing you’d missed the start of your next class and won’t be able to get into the classroom until it’s over. 

“Something is wrong with (Y/N)!” Damian announced as he walked into Dick’s apartment. Dick screamed a dropped his cereal bowl, not expecting anyone to come over that day. 

“Learn to knock!”

“You should always be ready for an attack.” Damian shrugged.

“Not on my day off!” He grabbed a shirt and tried to shuffle some of the sprawled clothes out of Damian’s view. He didn’t need to know Babs had only recently left. 

“You’re lifestyle has gone downhill.” Damian judged, “You are aware it’s midday, and you’re eating breakfast foods?”

“Cereal is for all times of the day.” Dick poured himself another bowl now his first one had gone on the floor, and joined his brother on the couch, “So, (Y/N)?”

“She overslept, her fighting was sloppy, she almost got shot, and something’s wrong.”

“And why do you care?” Dick felt pride in his chest, Damian did care about his siblings. “Are you warming up to the family?”

“No! I just don’t want her to ruin a mission!”

“Sure. If you’re concerned, why don’t you just talk to her?”

“She said I was eight and made fun of me.”

“She’s your sister, of course, she’s going to tease you, that’s sibling culture.”

“Then why am I told off for doing it?”

“Because you’re harsh and mean, she’s teasing in love; you can tell the difference by the tone of voice. You want to try talking to her again?” Damian scowled and shook his head. Talking to you again might make you think he cares, “So you want me to try?"

“You’re the oldest.”

“Go it.” Dick winked and waved him out of his apartment.

When Dick found you later that day, he was in civilian gear and offering to buy coffee. Tim had some club after school, so the two of you just drove to the nearest cafe. Dick was known to just randomly show up and do something he dubbed ‘Sibling Bonding’, so you didn’t think it was strange.

“How’s your day gone? Mine’s been good, I’ve had a day off, it’s always nice to have a day off and just catch up on sleep and stuff. It’s relaxing, don’t you think?”

That raised a red flag for you. Dick could be very subtle when he wanted to, but he was trying to cut to the chase without pissing you off.

“I’m fine, and I told Tim that, so if he sent you in, I appreciate the free coffee, but I’m honestly fine.”

“Tim didn’t send me, if Tim had sent me a message, I would have told him to trust you and been a whole lot more subtle.”

“Alfred?”

“I spoke to him, but only after Damian asked me to talk to you.”

“Damian?” you were shocked, the little monster was your annoying younger brother and a living nightmare. He may have saved you ass earlier, but you didn’t think him as the type to go to Dick worried about you. That was a you move. You looked out for your family.

“I’m your brother (Y/N), you can talk to me, and you can talk to him. If you just speak to him like an adult, he won’t be mean. He doesn’t try to be an asshole, and he does care really.”

“Very deep down.” you rolled your eyes.

“Very very deep down, but I’ve seen the nicer side.”

“I’m fine.”

“If Tim already to spoke to you, Damian came to me, and Alfred seems pretty concerned, I think that means you need to take a break.”

“Think about it yourself; someone was telling you that you’re tired, but who knows your body best?”

“I do.”

“Exactly, I know my body, I may look tired, but I’m not.”

“Oversleeping this morning?”

“I told Tim to wake me up! That was his sleep-deprived ass forgetting!” You lied a little. You didn’t want to admit you were weaker than your brothers. You all had the same schedule, you all worked hard, but you always felt like you were lagging behind. You could understand why Barbara had quit being Batgirl. It’s sad to realise you can’t actually help out as much as someone else. But you weren’t going to quit. You couldn’t. You’d be letting them all down, it would mean you’d wasted so much of your life to train for no reason. It would mean they were out there, risking their lives and you wouldn't be able to help them is they ended up in a dangerous situation. You’d drive yourself mad - staying up as late as you could while trying to maintain your grade average trying to solve cases and do homework and workout and keep up with Tim and stay ahead of Damian and not let Bruce down. You would be the first one out of bed each morning, first into costume if someone was needed on the field. You would work twice as hard as the boys, and you wouldn’t quit. You couldn’t let them see you as weaker than them, and you wouldn't let them be out there without you. Not a chance. 

“Okay, you do know your body, but if you have another bullet scare like today, I’m going to Bruce, and you’re taking at least a weak to rest.”

“Come on!”

“That’s nice, that’s me being a good big brother and trusting you.” You nodded, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as he lifted his hand for a high-five “Family? What would you do if you were in my position?”

“Family.” you groaned and gave him the high-five, deliberately not answering the second question. You'd make sure siblings were okay; you'd make them rest. You wouldn't trust them the way Dick did.

You made it through the week, focusing on keeping your body going and not slipping up. You weren’t going to let Dick go to Bruce, and you weren’t going to take a day off. But everyone met for a change of patrol a week later, and you were sitting on the edge of the rooftop. You were rubbing your eyes and wishing you had coffee to wake you up. You hadn’t had time to grab anything to eat before heading out to meet everyone, and you were supposed to take over from Damian. You couldn’t let him stay out any later since he was still younger. You just hoped you could talk Dick into making a Fast food run or something.

“Who’s here?” Tim asked, landing last. 

“Everyone but you,” Damian smirked, and Tim stuck his tongue out.

“Up (Y/S/N), you and me can take West High Street, Red Robin and Spoiler, use Wayne Enterprises as your base, Orphan and Signal can use here, Robin’s been patrolling all afternoon so he can head home and rest, Batgirl will be joining us later.”

As you stood up, your head was light, all the blood rushing to it. Your vision went, and you felt yourself trip back. Luckily Cass caught you before you fell off the roof.

When you woke up, you were lying on your bed, Dick asleep in the chair by the door. As you moved, he shot awake. All of his nerves and senses awake.

“(Y/N)! Thank god you’re okay.”

“I was always fine.”

“You passed out from standing off; you nearly fell off the roof.”

“None of you would’ve let that happen.” You shrugged, trying to get out of bed. He jumped forward and held the duvet down.

“Cass caught you, and you are not getting up.”

“How long have I been out?”

“A few hours,”

“Then there’s still time to get out there and help.”

“Not a chance.”

“Cass caught me; I’m not hurt. I can patrol. I know I’m fine.”

“I trusted you last week. We all trusted you! You said you were fine last week. You aren’t leaving this bed for a day at least.”

“You can’t force me to stay here.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Let me out!”

“I’m your brother, and I trusted when you said you were fine and you almost fell off the roof because you stood up. There is no way you’re getting out of this bed. Tim trusted you, Damian trusted my judgement.”

You noticed something different in Dick’s face. He was tense, and he suddenly seemed a lot older than you usually thought of him as. He was your brother, one of you guys, you forgot that he’d been doing this superhero thing a lot longer than you. He’d been the first. Your lies had made him trust you, and you’d almost gotten hurt. His decision could have got you hurt. Your choices made him feel guilty, which made you feel guilty - which of course you deserved to feel.

“Dick…” you whispered, “I was just doing what you all do. You all stay up as late, work hard, I’m just working harder to try and keep up. Trying to protect the others...”

“You don’t have to be me! You actually have the joy of not being me, the only one, the first Robin. There are so many of us that we always have someone spare for patrol. You could’ve just taken the night off.”

“But what if you all realised you didn’t need me at all!”

“You're our sister, blood or not; we’re always going to need you, mask on or off.”

“Wait, you’re trying to keep up?” Tim pushed the door open; he’d been eavesdropping the entire time.

“See! He now thinks lower of me!”

“I don’t think you’re less!” Tim shook his head and rushed towards the bed. He’d just finished patrol. “I want you to be healthy. I’m not healthy, that’s why I noticed. I set six alarms to make sure I wake up in the morning, one of them makes me coffee, so I don’t even have to move without caffeine in my system. I didn’t want you to be like me.”

“You’re the younger one, I should be setting the example,” you complained, flopping into your pillow. 

“This is my fault.” He muttered, “If I wasn’t always trying to prove myself and be as good as you…” he was freaking out and ran out of the room, coming back in a few minutes with one of his coffee alarm clocks.

“No, Tim.” Dick made him take it from you, even though you clapped your hands and tried to grab it. “She needs rest, not a way to stay awake. Actually no, I’m taking that. You need sleep too, both of you are on bed rest until further notice.” 

“Coming from you, you don’t sleep either!” You pointed out as Dick disappeared to take Tim’s coffee supply away. 

“Yeah, because I got into the habit and adapted at a young age. I was the only one, remember.”

“I know, you said it like five seconds ago.” Dick snorted at your comment, and that made you feel better. “The extended families so big by now that no one should ever end up like this again.”

There was a long pause in the conversation as all three of you thought about that. From Kate to Duke to Carrie and Harper and the Fox Family. There was an awful lot of people running around Gotham nowadays. You had been so concerned about making sure Damian wasn’t going to get hurt that you’d almost been shot, you’d been so concerned about making sure you weren’t left behind whilst your brothers were in danger that you nearly fell off a roof. Damian had gone to Dick, which meant he was looking out for you - just in his own socially inept way. 

“How does it feel to have started all of this?” You asked.

“If it's the reason you guys are collapsing, I'm not very proud…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, but as your brother, you should be able to tell me the stuff you can’t tell Bruce, you can admit you’re tired or need a break, or trying to balance too much. Siblings support each other. We're a family, so we help each other - whether that's by making you sleep, or pushing you away from gunfire, none of us have to do this alone anymore.”

“Where’s Jason at right now?” you asked out of interest.

“He came back to help cover patrol for a bit so we can all have a break, he’s joining us tomorrow night.”

“Seriously?” you sat up straighter. It was going to be the first time in a long while that all your brothers were in the same house. 

“(Y/N)?” Damian opened the door carrying a bowl of popcorn, “I could hear all the noise through the rest of the house so thought you might like some popcorn.”

“Thank you?” You took the bowl from him, and he disappeared quicker than he had appeared. He really didn’t know how to handle being a brother and you immediately wanted to mother him. 

“Told you he cared.” Dick smiled, grabbing Tim as he tried to sneak out.

“You’re benched too.”

“Not fair.”

“Not making the same mistake twice.” Dick mused, taking a fistful of popcorn, “Disney movies all day tomorrow? I’m taking the day off, follow my example?”

“You’re the oldest, so I guess,” you said, smiling and trying to sound as irritated as possible. Dick was doing what you would do, but with the heart, only he could have. All of your family had their way to show they cared, yours was working yourself senseless to protect them, but if they were taking tomorrow off too...you could rest. Everyone could relax. 

#batfamily #batman #batsis imagine #batsis!reader #batsis #batman imagine #dc imagine #batfamily imagine #robin imagine #dick grayson imagine #damian wayne imagine #nightwing imagine #red robin imagine #tim drake imagine #batman one shot #dc one shot #dick grayson #tim drake #nightwing #damian wayne #robin #red robin #red hood #signal #cassandra cain #orphan #spoiler #barbara gordon #batmom

[eligrantbooks]

gotta vent about my day real quick

highlights of the day

> be professional ghostwriter.

Agreed to edit a 25000 word segment of a finished manuscript for a much loved regular client, who said the MC’s dialogue needed to be punched up. Easy enough. I figured it would take a few hours.

Was briefly excited to discover the manuscript was for a concept I had outlined and written several chapters for a few months ago.

Excitement rapidly dwindles as I realize that beloved client has hired another ghostwriter to write the majority of the book. Which would be fine, except this other ghostwriter has no fucking idea what they are doing.

Formatting is a god damn disaster and I spend several hours just getting the document into a workable condition.

You ever open a word doc, look at the navigation pane, and just see a wall of blank links, because someone applied the header formatting somewhere and then just hit enter a million times instead of using a page break like a civilized god damn human being?

in the middle of this forest of blank headers, actual chapter titles are scattered at random, and also they only applied the header to roughly one out of every five chapters or so, you know, just, when they felt like it. when the spirit took them. when the stars aligned. when the feng shui was right.

Also, apparently they like the way first line indenting looks but don’t know how to make word do that (spoiler: its easy as shit and takes like two clicks) so every once in a while they start manually hitting tab before every line, until they get distracted and stop for a while, luring you into a false sense of security before they remember and start doing it again.

Sometimes, when a scene transitions but they dont want to just end the chapter for some reason, they break it up with spaces. Other times, they like to use asterisks. Once or twice, just for flavor, they throw in one of those page width lines that word makes when you type a line of hyphens.

There is random highlighting in places, for no discernible reason.

Once I have the document formatted in a way I can bear to work with, I start actually reading through it. About the first seven chapters were written by the client. They’re cheesy but solid.

Then I get to chapter eight, and the suspicions i had begun to form while putting the formatting through traction (namely that whoever did this was a fuckwit) quickly crystallized into a shining certainty that my beloved client had mistakenly hired An Ass Clown.

Not just An Ass Clown, but An Ass Clown who thought 50 Shades was a beautiful love story, actually.

And they gave This Ass Clown, this literary reprobate, this paste eating remedial english mother fucker, my outline.

let me clarify that i did not expect to have sole control of this story when i produced the outline for beloved client, and I was okay with that. That’s how it works. If I’d been dead set on writing this myself, i wouldn’t have sold the outilne to beloved client. but it really rubs salt in the wound to have spent hours of my life crafting the bones of this story, which i really liked and was excited to see take shape

and then find out it has been put into the pie fondling hands

of An Ass Clown.

first hint that something has gone drastically wrong: the arrival of completely unnecessary and ridiculous fantasy names for things.

“oh we dont drink coffee in this book. it’s kofee. at least until three chapters from now when i forget and it becomes kofe. Oh, and watch out for those thornaby bushes! I’m going to misspell that one literally every time I use it! It’s entirely possible that this isn’t a fantasy name at all and I just have a small seizure whenever I try to type the word thorn bush!”

second omen of my impending anuerism: phonetically written accents which are so comically stereotypical and inaccurate that native speakers of that accent should be entitled to financial compensation, except they can’t even stick to the stereotype accurately, producing gems such as  “It’s not safe in that there pen with ‘em swine, young miss.” I don’t even know what accent that’s supposed to represent. To top it off these accent abominations are sprinkled in with all the consistency and reliability of a lactose intolerant cheese enthusiast’s bowel movements.

But this, I tell myself, moving on, is not my problem. I just need to punch up the mcs dialogue. It’ll be fine. I can do this. I just need to take this shit: “A fond idea, but I doubt I have that ability.” I joked. “I can’t imagine living without true sunshine. Even the triplet moons must shine less brightly without their sister sun.” and make it… not like that.

Except, and here’s where I start hitting the real roadblock guys

this book is in first person.

essentially, the entire novel is the MC talking.

So sure I can change the spoken lines, but her internal monologue

which is, i remind you, the entire narrative

her internal monologue is going to keep being maggie gyllenhal’s character from The Secretary if her copy of the script had been swapped with just a binder full of sonnets written by a middle school english class during the Shakespeare unit.

I get to chapter ten around three in the afternoon. I have been working steadily, with an unusual degree of focus thanks to my recent adderal prescription, since ten in the morning.

this is where shit begins to go truly bananas.

this is a YA beauty and the beast type fantasy

that good fun indulgent shit that’s almost as enjoyable to write as it is to read

usually. previously. before i had to endure this traumatic twelve hour experience.

Chapter ten is the first big “dinner” scene. this book isn’t being shy about pulling from the source material, but that’s fine. the beast “apologizes” (heavy quotes there) for having earlier used magic to force the heroine to answer his questions truthfully. They talk and almost seem to making progress for a bit, and then have a fight and storm off. Standard stuff.

Except, uh, the beast’s apology is, essentially “Yeah I shouldn’t have done that.” “so you’re apologizing?” “no but it’s the best you’re going to get so deal with it.”

and the headstrong, independent heroine who wears pants and wrestles pigs and dont need no man

just kinda rolls with this. There’s giggling.

They have their big dramatic fight, exit stage left, much angst and todo.

The next morning heroine wakes up to find the beast has (presumably) snuck into her room while she was sleeping and dumped a bunch of new dresses on her. he has also (apparently) replaced her brain with Bella Swan’s more vapid cousin.

She forgives him instantly. Because pretty dresses. She also starts calling him master, because why not. She has, over night, become the darling submissive Tumblr doms dream of.

This is not a bdsm book. I am eighty percent certain it doesn’t even include soft core smut. I’m telling you this so that you understand this transformation was not a contrivance in order to facilitate kinky sex. I have written a contrived set up to a sex scene or two in my day. This is not that. This is Not what is in the outline. I know, because i wrote the outline. It is My Outline.

No, The Ass Clown just… decided to do this. Apropos of nothing. I’m beginning to think the Ass Clown’s decision making process involves whipping pies at a comically large dartboard. And all the options on the dartboard are just “lol whatever”

By the time I get to chapter eleven, wherein our newly lobotomized heroine is “excited to wear a new frock and please the master!” - direct quote I have given up any pretense of editing dialogue and I am just straight up rewriting shit using the previous garbage as a loose outline.

I have eaten, maybe, three bites of a bowl of oatmeal all day. I have not taken a bathroom break since before noon. I have missed my deadline. Beloved client is concerned. I’m sure I can still do this, I just need a few more hours.

the words sound like truth but my soul knows i am a liar

I frantically restructure scene after scene, deceiving myself each time that it will be the last, and I will be able to get this crazy train back on the rails. But this crazy train has no interest in being on the rails. It’s a direct line no stops right off the edge of the cliffs of insanity.

The beast jumps unpredictably from homicidal rage and threats of violence to jokes and flirting as though he did not just declare her his property and threaten to rip her tongue out a few paragraphs ago. Heroine swoons and sighs and giggles regardless of whether she is dealing with Dr.Jekyll or Christian Gray on PCP.

But I’m still sure I can do this. I’ll just adjust these two full chapters to make her appropriately scared and angry, and then replace this weird conversation here with a heartfelt apology from him and an effort to do better. That will totally work. Unless, you know, it turns out that conversation I want to replace only starts out with them joking and laughing together, and turns into him berating and abusing her mid paragraph of a fuckin montage a page later! But, haha! Why would The Ass Clown ever do that? It would be completely irrational, tonally jarring and out of character! Only a seltzer slinging rainbow suspender-ed peanut butter fumbling son of six fucks would do that.

so of course The Ass Clown did that.

It’s eleven at night. I know when I’m beaten.

I inform beloved client that the Ass Clown has bested me and I can do no more.

She is very understanding.

I send her what I managed and I check the added word count while im at it

i added a full 6,000 words to that manuscript just trying to patch up this sloppy motherfucker’s lopsided prose and gossamer thin understanding of narrative structure

son of a bitch had about as firm a grasp of romance as i currently have on the trembling shreds of my sanity.

their grip on character writing could not be more tenuous if they had first dipped the target brand Hulk Hands which I assume they always have on their person into a barrel of adult-film-grade silicon lubricant and then taken their Leapfrog 2-in-1 Leaptop Touch down a waterslide.

Do you know how much I usually make for 6000 words?

$180.

Do you know how much I made for enduring this ass blasting, which I naively believed I could tackle in a matter of hours?

$100.

You owe me $80 Ass Clown. And I aim to collect.

Also I lost my damn mind for a minute and said the words "i dont know shit about fuck my guy” to my actual father on facebook

so there’s that.

#reposting from my rp blog #i need to get better about not using it as a personal

[cecilspeaks]

108 - Cal

There’s a billboard along the highway that reads: “Everything. Must. Go.”

Welcome to Night Vale.

I don’t talk much about my brother on this show. Cal. He visited the other day from his home out near Eagle Farm, up in the mountains. He looked gaunt and pale. When I opened the door, he was bracing himself against the porch beam with one arm and coughing.

Cal was holding a suitcase. It was old-fashioned, leather, the kind without wheels or an extendable handle. He drove to my house in a 1980 Mercury Monarch, brick red, four doors. The front left bumper was caved in and the headlight, which looked to have been taped into place, had loosened again and fallen forward. I asked Cal what had happened to his car. He didn’t know what I was talking about. I asked about the bumper and headlight, and he said, “That’s just how they make them, Cecil.” Them he teased me for not understanding cars and walked into my home before I could invite him in.

“Have you ever opened a box, only to find another box inside that box, and then you open that box and there was another box within it, and then you kept opening boxes hoping to find the last box. But the boxes became so small, your comparatively large fingers could no longer open them. Until the box was so tiny, you couldn’t see the box at all.”

I’m not sure what that means. It’s neither here nor there. Which is to say it’s nowhere. Aquí, ahí, todo el mundo, no hay nada.

I don’t know Spanish.

Yesterday afternoon, Hadassah McDaniels and the other five-headed dragons, outraged at the partial execution of Hadassah’s brother Hiram last fall, moved into City Hall. They displaced Mayor Cardinal and her staff, who then called upon the Sheriff’s Secret Police, and the rarely seen Double Secret Police – a police so secret that even their members do not know that they are members. Both the Secret and the very surprised Double Secret Police, just that morning informed of their jobs, showed up at City Hall and tried reasoning with the dragons. The dragons ignored the weak efforts of the police and made straight for City Council. The Council climbed up on the roof of city Hall, their many sharp appendages swinging down from their single giant body, punching out windows and grabbing whatever long dragon necks they could reach. And the City Council’s newest member, 16-year-old Tamika Flynn, the only member not connected to their primary form, rode on the rest of the council’s back with a long bow. The dragons breathed fire upward at the City Council, who shrieked in pain, or possibly delight. The battle ended when City Council was knocked off the roof by five-headed dragon and private estate lawyer, Dirk Andrews. The council, minus Tamika, retracted form the advancing dragons, called a Lyft and sped out of town, as they are wont to do in times of crisis.

Tamika paced at the edge of the City Hall lawn, cursing and thwacking a well-worn copy of Glen David Gould’s “Carter Beats the Devil” into her calloused palm. Above the City Hall, a long black slit was torn into the light blue sky, and no one reported seeing the moon.

When Cal entered my house, I offered him some tea, and then called Carlos to come join us. But Cal said he doesn’t drink, and Carlos didn’t respond to my calls. I told Cal it was just tea, no alcohol, and he said he doesn’t drink anything. I peaked into Carlos’ office, but he wasn’t there. Nothing was there. It was just an empty room. Carlos wasn’t gone, he had never been there. And for a moment I did not miss him, as for a moment, I did not remember he existed. It was just an empty room, I thought casually.

Cal sat down his suitcase and said, “You hear that Cecil? You hear that noise?” He pointed straight up. “In the firmament,” he said. “Do you hear it?” he repeated. I listened, and I heard. I heard paper being torn, I heard weeds being pulled, I heard – egg shells crumbling.

When I looked back to say yes, he was holding his hand to his mouth and lurching forward over the sink. A trickle of blood ran down the outside of his hand. I could see his tongue moving rapidly along the insides of his cheeks, as he let out small grunts. He finally removed his hand and spat sharply into the kitchen sink. I heard a loud rattling in the stainless steel basin and saw two teeth, unbroken, root, bones and all, lying in the strainer. I stared at them and remarked at how long a human tooth actually is.

Cal wiped his face and hands. “Nice to finally get rid of those,” he said as he tore off pieces of paper towel and wedged them into the holes in his gums. Then he asked, “You got a girlfriend or what, little brother?”

In my life with Cal, I’d never told him I would never have a girlfriend. In Night Vale, no one cared either way, but I felt like Cal would have. In this other reality, I was single. So I only said, “No.”

He shrugged and scratched his head. As he did, a patch of dark hair fell to the floor. We watched it fall, lilting and looping slowly downward.

Which falls faster, a brick or a tuft of hair? Carlos taught me this physics riddle. It’s a trick question. The brick falls faster, not because of its weight but because a brick falling is less horrifying than the unexpected loss of even a minor part of your body. Time does not slow down for that which is uninteresting.

“Hah, better not look in the mirror,” Cal said, as he nervously simulated the sound of laughter. A dribble of blood ran down his chin and onto his chest.

When the Public Library disappeared last week, no one celebrated nor mourned its absence, as we could barely remember it being there. In its place, a long black sliver of nothing. A hole in our universe, near which no one wanted to go. Except for Carlos, who’s a scientist and wants tot study everything, but I told him no way. The pteranodons which poured out of a similar hole inside the Rec Center last month have taken over the Barista District, building giant nests from canvas bean sacks and flyers promoting local bands and burlesque shows.

Near the City Hall, dozens of angels, more than I have ever seen at one time, are still surrounding the Hall of Public Records, demanding expedition of their application to be officially recognized as living beings. The angels are waving hand-drawn signs with phrases like “Look at us”. But their handwriting is so shaky as to make the typography quite distracting, so most bystanders did not notice the angels, but instead fixated on trying to read their signs. The angels are shouting, “It only works if you believe it does!” But as this sentence has an erratic rhythm, it didn’t catch on with many passers-by, many of whom were busy screaming and running from vengeance-minded dragons. Some even pointed into space and yelled, “The Distant Prince!” He’s less distant than ever before.

Cal told me stories of our youth. How, as kids, we would sneak out late at night and vandalize houses and cars for fun. Little things like stealing hood ornaments or placing live scorpions in mailboxes or making creepy ghost noises outside bedroom windows. He smiled as he regaled what was for him, a funny story of boys being boys, but I didn’t like his story. I could remember it, but I also knew it wasn’t real at all. In his story, I was prying loose the aluminum ram’s head at the front of a 1975 Dodge pickup with a flat head screwdriver. The truck was dark blue with tan leather bench seats. I remembered it was parked in front of a mid-century ranch style home with a rock garden full of succulents and herbs.

As Cal spoke, I could smell rosemary in the cool desert air.

Cal placed his hands on his belly, and his eyes rolled back in his head. “You OK?” I asked. “It’s just the after effects man,” Cal shrugged. “Hey, you remember when Mom used to take us to the library to read, but we would look up dirty words in the dictionary instead?” “Mom would have never put us in such danger,” I protested.

He stared at me for a moment, his head cocked sideways, an eyebrow raised. Then he lurched forward out of his seat onto his hands and knees and vomited onto the rug. We both stared at the viscous red stain concerned. No, not concerned – embarrassed.

Let’s have a look at the Community Calendar. This Thursday afternoon, the Faceless Old Woman and the Woman from Italy will be at the Night Vale Mall from noon to 4 PM, offering bespoke tortures for anyone who walks by. The Woman from Italy will recite the unlucky passers-by future pain, in the form of a catchy poem like:

[normal voice] The Woman from Italy will leave you in stitches. Not laughter, though she’ll laugh. A sound which is full of diabolical torment And wicked behavior, As she flays you before your friends and your neighbors. You’ll yet be alive when she opens your chest, The wet beat of your heart and the choke of your breath. She coos, “Don’t fear! It’s as quick as can be.” But in truth, there’s years left to this misery.

The Faceless Old Woman will simply write some harsh insults in silver sharpie on the side of an eggplant and hurl it at your family.

Saturday afternoon, the Night Vale PTA will be holding an emergency bake sale to raise money for the elementary school gym, recently burned down by Hadassah McDaniels. It’s also a clearance sale to finally get rid of the store room full of baked goods that have gone unsold the past two years.

Monday, another hole will open in the sky, and then another. Things will come, other things will go. I will remember that Michigan is a real state and its capital is Lansing. And that I once when camping with Cal and my mother, and some family friends, up near Higgins Lake when I was 9. Soon after knowing this, I will stop knowing it again.

This has been the Community Calendar.

I tried to explain to Cal that something was amiss. I had a sister, not a brother. I wasn’t single but married. I tried to show Cal photos of Abby, and of my husband, Carlos. But when I went to our photo albums, they were different. There were photos of Cal and I as children, but none of Abby or Carlos or Steve or Janice or this radio station. Noen of a recognizable Night vale.

Based on our clothing and the cars and the fashions, no photo was older than – I’d say the early 1980’s? There was a picture of me as a teenager at Cal’s wedding. I pointed at her and said, “Bethany. Still just as radiant, I bet.” 

And Cal said, “Don’t!” “How is she these days?” I asked Cal, and he pushed me and shouted, “Don’t!”

He started to cry. I kept my eyes down the hall toward the empty office. I knew someone should be in that empty room, someone I c ared for, someone I loved but – I didn’t know who.

Cal’s crying turned to sobbing and he isad, “I’m sorry I, I didn’t mean…” I put my arm around him and said softly: “I know, I know Cal. Shh. It’s OK.” “It’s just when you asked about Bethany,” he said. “You know she didn’t- she didn’t-“ He couldn’t finish the sentence, but I knew Bethany didn’t. That year, most people didn’t. But also that’s not how it happened. And also, I don’t have a brother.

He quivered in my arms, and above us, I heard the sky tearing open. Smoke in the distance. Most days I see distant smoke.

“You OK?” asked my brother. “Yes,” he said. “Thank you for… thank you for understanding.” “Sure thing, I said to him. “Please, leave my house.”

And now, the weather.

[“Robert Frost” by Mal Blum]

I don’t talk much about my brother on this show. Cal. Because he’s not my reality. I almost said he’s not real, but that’s not true. There is still a bloodstain on my rug, and a bruise from where he pushed me. I remembered Cal’s wedding. I remembered stealing hood ornaments. I remembered the smell of that rosemary bush in that rock garden. But then Cal left. He did not drive away, but vanished as the gash tore open above us. I had trouble remembering his visit, so I wrote it all down. I’m reading it now, to you, verbatim from my journal, and I cannot believe my own writing.

Carlos and his office are back. They were never gone, Carlos says. Multiple timelines is basic quantum physics, which is the most exciting kind of physics, he said. This morning, I gave Carlos a tight hug in bed and kissed him along the back of his beautiful hair – perfect, even when matted asymmetrically from sleep.

The angels are still standing around the Hall of Public Records, demanding that people look at them. There is one sign that says “We’re angels, and we’re totally real, and you’re making a huge mistake not acknowledging that. Trust us, we’re totally angels.” And while I appreciate the sentiment, I do think they’d be better served hiring a copywriter, or at least a decent graphic designer.

Holes are tearing open across the sky, and I can barely hear myself thinking most days.

The dragons have marched into the City Jail freeing all the inmates, mostly political prisoners being held for an unnamed international leader, as well as a handful of college-aged drunk tankers.

Mayor Cardinal, from her home, issued a statement about the disintegration of our town and bleeding together of realities. The statement reads: “My father, who died of liver cancer when I was five, has returned. He arrived from a hole in our reality. I am choosing to go with him, Night Vale. I am choosing the world where he did not die, where I did not kill my double, where dragons did not destroy our town. Listen to the ripping of the firmament and find a world you prefer, Night Vale. All else is pain.”

[sadly] Listeners. I beg you not to do this. This is the world we built, right here. If you leave, if you don’t accept it – [whispers] it cannot hold together.

Hold tight those you love, Night Vale. Not for fear of their loss, but for love of their presence. Hold onto what you know is real. Life is only a narrative, but it’s a narrative we write together.

Stay tuned next for – huh? Whatever was on the schedule for this month has all been scribbled out with charcoal. And with the same charcoal, someone has scrawled “A story about Huntokar” across the entire broadcast calendar. So stay tuned for that, I guess.

And for what it’s worth, and for however long our own narrative has left, Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: You’ll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, but you’ll catch even more with a corpse of some sort.

#welcome to night vale #wtnv #wtnv transcripts #episode 108 #cal

[obdurare-archive-blog]

♡ + Teague

headcanon meme : accepting : @evemusc

Oh, my dudes, I hope you’re strapped in for a ride, because I have feelings about Hector Barbossa, the third Brethren Court, and Captain Edward Teague.  So many feelings.

PLEASE NOTE!  If you haven’t read Price of Freedom, this is going to contain some spoilers for it.  I’m tagging it ( pof spoilers ) if you want to avoid that.  This is also probably going to get really long, so I’ll shove most of it behind a cut.  Now, lemme settle in so we can get started.

Firstly, let me say that I don’t think Hector has nearly the respect for the Court you might think he does.  And there’s good canon reasons to support this.  A long, long time ago, in a land far away, Hector Barbossa’s ship, the Cobra, was sunk by rogue pirates, and while it took him a while, he made it to the Cove with what remained of his crew to get assistance from the Court, because attacking other pirates like that is Against The Code.  He meets Jack for the first time here and they have initial impressions of each other which boil down to, “Wow, this guy is a badass and I’m not sure where his accent comes from exactly and he really doesn’t tell the truth much does he?” and “Hey, this kid isn’t that stupid, I’ll talk to him.”

And fast forward several months later, Hector’s still in the Cove, the Court’s done nothing, and the case, as it were, has gone cold.  Hector’s on a downward slide, until one day Jack Sparrow, the one and only, spots a ship just like the one Hector described (down to the brass bow chaser) in the harbor.  And so he does what anyone else would do:  He goes looking for Hector.  Once he finally finds him, and Hector gets dressed, they head out as a dynamic duo to look at this ship and yep.  Hector’s pretty sure it’s The One.  Teague shows up, the ship gets inspected by Hector, Teague, and others (the bow chaser’s missing) and nothing can be determined.  It also turns out that said ship belongs to the Pirate Lord of the Caspian Sea (you catching on yet?), a Russian named Borya, and there’s a big todo about the whole business. After all, a Pirate Lord has been Accused Of Breaking The Code.  There’s a trial, Davy Jones is summoned to determine his guilt because he sees everything that happens on the sea, Borya passes on his Piece of Eight to Hector (though no one tells Hector what it actually is for a while) and the rogue pirates are locked up and scheduled to be executed, and Hector is set to play the actual hangman.  Doesn’t happen, because Jack is convinced his friend Christophe didn’t do anything wrong and lets him go.  And is promptly kidnapped for his troubles.

And it should be noted that during this, members of Hector’s crew are turning up dead, there’s other horrible things happening in the Cove, and it turns out the rogue pirates are behind all of it.

This isn’t the only time Hector and Teague will speak, it happens a few times of the course of Hector being Jack’s First Mate. He even gets hit on my Jack’s grandmother at one point, and it is hilarious.

Okay, so there we have the backstory.  

But Amanda, you’re asking, what does that have to do with anything?  My dudes, Hector Barbossa got fucked when it comes to getting his case resolved by the Court.  Because the Court is, if you look at it, kind of useless bloat in the pirate system.  They only meet once in a million years, they can’t get along, and they have a differing “status” to other pirates, which in a lot of ways directly contradicts the entire social structure of piracy, where every man is equal and every man’s voice should be counted.  Now, you had something similar in rl pirate history with the Admirals of the Black/Brethren of the Coast, but it didn’t function even remotely similar.

But this isn’t Amanda gives you a history lecture on her specialized time period, and it’s not Amanda puts on her historian hat time.  When Hector was a nobody in the scheme of things and sought help from the council that was supposed to be there for that purpose, especially since it was one of their own doing the harm against them, he found out quickly that there really is no justice for the little guy in the Lord system.  And when he became a Pirate Lord, it was cheap, handed to him over dinner with the man who’s sunk his ship, whose last request was to speak with him.  He was promised a ship that was stolen and he was never compensated.  Jack ended up taking care of the rogue pirates and fleeing, joining the EITC.  It was a fucking mess.

Five years Hector spends sliding further and further down that slope, damn near drinking himself to death.  The Pirate Lords did nothing.  They’ll do nothing later when it comes to Blackbeard and his reign of terror.  And in short, to wrap up what has become very long, through all of this Hector had to help himself when there was supposed to be a system in place for that, and at the time, he was a lot more trusting when it came to his fellow pirates.  It’s why he’s not now.  The reason there’s no familiarity between Teague and Hector, and why their interactions after this is stunted and formal, is because Hector Barbossa put his trust in the Pirate Lords to at least get him justice, and they failed.  Miserably.  And if you don’t think he holds Teague partially responsible for the shambles his life became after Jack was kidnapped, you’d be absolutely wrong.

#( pof spoilers ) #evemusc #what is it that you want ( asks ) #since that old black ship set sail | memes