#and thank you for the letter too I’ve been rereading it! I’ve been getting back into writing letters of my own and wow!!!

[spectacular-supernova]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PRESIDENT OF TONARI CLUB!

I, uh, m-made something f-for you.

Know that I'm totally embarrassing my ass over here, so... Don't laugh loud enough that I can hear you from over here!

Aaaaaand now, per Lyndis tradition, I'm gonna overexplain shits and turn a simple Ask into a whole ass Ramble!

-----------------------------(why is there no "Read More" partition in an Ask? I'm so embarrassed right now goddamn it)-------------------------

If you're short-sighted, try removing your glasses or contact lenses and look at this picture. I just did and it's suddenly even prettier!

I actually planned to draw your Sonicsona at first. And then I realized I deadass couldn't even draw Base Sonic. Then I thought I should draw a mole. I realized I also couldn't draw a mole. I thought I should just go for the easiest shit and draw ToFu. I realized I could not draw either one of them, too.

Because I cannot draw, I cheat! I mean I turn things into shapes (chiefly triangles, though not all of them) and then color them and hope that something shows up. This is me using this scientific /+ philosophical concept called Emergence.

No, I didn't just say THAT to sound like I have a technique of any kind, trust. It's so totally a technique—my very productive ass told me.

I remember you saying your favorite color is something like pink, blue, and stuff? It was from that tag game from last year. Hence, I decided I should create a context so I could draw an obscene amount of pink and blue.

If I'm being honest, it took me less than a millisecond to come up with the exact context—Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom is abundantly blue.

And since I always wanted to sneak ToFu in, I thought I would make a purplish-pink dusk. And then I will sneak those stargazing two in.

Come on. Everyone knows those ToFu panels. Even someone like me, who had not seen that part of the manga yet, knows.

Bless Tonari for being so relaxing to color.

HOWEVER! Fushi's limited-ass color presented a big problem for my cheat-drawing. How many combinations of "white" can you even make before you zoom out and see... nothing?! So I basically sabotaged them. That's what you get for being difficult, you mopey, neck-crick-possessing, fragile-enough-to-be-blown-by-the-wind cutie doofus.

I made up the color of their pants. I didn't even refer to their Nameless Boy drip when I decided on the color. I assed that part.

Yes. I admit I put a shit ton of effort into coloring Zelda. This version of Zelda is my kin, you know. Anyway, I like the way her, uh, shirt turned out.

I also like how the Master Sword turned out, but there was so much blue I ended up requiring outlines to distinguish it from Link's shirt and the sky. Told ya I have no technique or skill. I cheat through and through

I was too lazy to draw those sky islands. Besides, the ToTK side is already saturated with details.

What the fuck issa "proportion?" Everyone's head is an orange. The difference, Nova, is whether it's a Mandarin Orange or an Orange.

I don't know if I overdid Dinraal's draconic mane. It looks like she's wearing a wig. At least she is different from how she initially looked—a red tapeworm outfitted with chicken legs.

I admit I put more effort than any Past Me would have into Dinraal because a certain mutual is very, ah, particular about dragons.

Drawing two of your favorite ships for their show of devotion was a completely deliberative choice on my end. Did you also realize that both Link and Fushi had a short, small, low ponytail and that both Zelda and Tonari had similar hair? I believe it's due to me hitting my drawing skill limitation.

There is actually an Easter Egg of some sort in this picture. It's not the ugly doodle thing, no. That thing is me. I'm not an Easter Egg; I'm a ghost.

I'm not telling you what that Easter Egg is. I'm fine with it never being discovered; it'd be like those secret levels in old video games.

But if you DID discover it, come tell me what you think it is!

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

I hope you like it enough! Instead of it giving you a migraine, that is. Surely my """art"""... doesn't require a trigger warning... right?

Have a good one, mai bruzha!

---Lyn

A RAMBLE FROM YOU LYN IS THE BEST POSSIBLE BRITHDAY PRESENT I COULD HAVE EVER RECEIVED!!!! COUPLED WITH ART BY YOU????? AND OF MY FAVORITE FELLAS????? What did I deserve to be so blessed ;A; 💕💕💕

I’ll spare us all a little extra scrolling on my part by adding that read more you were fretting about, I have my own ramble upcoming!

I KNOW YOURE ON YOURSELF ABOUT NOT BEING ARTISTIC OR WHATEVER BUT THIS IS ART!!! AND DAMN GOOD ART TOO!!!!!!! This is!!!!!!!!!!! I want this made into stained glass I want to make this the permanent window to me bed roOM LYN THIS IS AMAZING THIS IS ALMOST CERTAINLY GOING DOWN AS ONE OF MY FAVORITE ART STYLES!!!! There’s no such thing as cheating in art, it’s all art!!! “Cheating” is a style, no technique is a style!!! I should know I have none either, hehe -w-‘ your art may be some type of cubism? Hehe idk I’m not an art student :3 Either way this is absolutely gorgeous I’m in LOVE!!!

It’s so creative and well done and I LOVE your eye for detail, the lighting is inspired!!!! Like the way the sun hits the space behind Zelda is so pretty, AND ZELDA IS SO PRETTY!!!!!! EVERYRHING IS SO PRETTY, I CANT FOCUS ON ONE THING BECAUSE I KEEP JUMPING BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN ALL THE THINGS I LOVE ABOUT IT (every thing, every last detail!!! Is that a little you in the middle? Is that the Easter egg???? I could just pick you up and pat your little head!!! 😭 I know you don’t love hugs but that’s how I’ll be standing if you’re ever ready for one!!!)

I should slow down maybe and pick a few things to focus on BUT I JUST CANT I LOVE IT ALL!!!! The two scenes just blend so well into one another that my eyes are just naturally being drawn back and forth between both of the scenery! Dinraal, who turned out AMAZIING BY THE WAY, ABSOLUTELY NOT OVERDONE, if anything I’m so glad you had fun working on her!!! She’s so gorgeous!!!! I bet your friend is so so proud of how well she looks!!! Oh but anyway, Dinraal naturally leads my eyes over to the sun/moon (and the 24, hehe, thank you!!! /)//(\ Your memory is astounding!!), which have their own beautiful rays of light leading down onto the adorable couples 😭 I love love LOVE the moonlight leading down onto Tonari and Fushi, and the fact that she’s pointing at it too like she can almost reach it? Beautiful! Gorgeous!!! And it just leads my eyes down to them too, there’s just such a natural circular flow here, no wonder I keep getting caught in a loop of admiration! 😁

The blues and the pinks, and the stars on the ToFu side!!! I just noticed them and they’re everything to me!!!! Hahaha I’m so glad Tonari was relaxing to color hehe, same for me, something about her is just so lovely and calming when she’s relaxed 🥰 As for Fushi’s colors, I didn’t notice! Even after you pointed it out it looks good to me! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ this is from someone who never references colors though, I’m so loosey goosey about everything -w- BUT YOUR SOLUTION TO YOUR PROBLEM WAS GREAT, THEIR SHAPE IS VERY VISIBLE AND EASY TO MAKE OUT hehe :3 I love their crossed little legs 🥰

Zelda being your kin is so good to know hehe, I’ve always been drawn to all versions of Link myself! I think we’ve been perfectly set up to “play dolls” with these characters in the future, so to speak! Aaaahh they can’t have been easy to draw, there’s a reason I almost never dabble in drawing those two and their intricate outfits, but you make it look effortless!!! Zelda’s shirt turned out amazing, and I’m stuck looking at her little triangle braids!!!! I don’t know why I’m so fixated on that it’s just adorable!!! 😭💕 What a lovely technique, man, I’m so enchanted! AND THE MASTER SWORD, I know you called it cheating BUT I LOVE THE LINE WORK, it makes the sword stand out, almost like you lined that specific part with some sort of melted gold??? Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!

This is gorgeous and beautiful in every which way and thank you!!!! For everything!!! For this beautiful drawing and for giving me a chance to ramble and giving me something gorgeous to look at for the rest of my day, and for indulging in both of my silly little ships /)//(\ I’m so glad I don’t need glasses because I love every inch of your art, thank you thank you THANK YOU!!!!! Gosh it’s so so so lovely 😭💕 you’re so lovely!!!!

I don’t know how to say goodbye so I guess I’ll just say good night for now! Thank you for thinking of me… I’ll have a wonderful day, so long as you promise me you’ll have a wonderful night along side me 🥰

Goodnight, Mai Bruzha!

- Nova

#Lyn the Zelda Kin (I’ll come up with a better tag some day I PROMISE 💕 haha!!!) #Friend Rambles 💕💕💕 #long post #IM SO STOKED YOU HAVE NO IDEA AAAHHHHHHHHHH KICKING MY FEET #I’m typing the tags before I actually type the main body heehee I’m gonna jump over the moon!!!!! #and thank you for the letter too I’ve been rereading it! I’ve been getting back into writing letters of my own and wow!!! #the quality of yours are amazing!! I may have to take a note or two on how to craft a good one that one was amazing!! and thank you :’) #ok editing: this nova back after her ramble in the body text #I’m sorry for how disjointed this all looks! I kind of tackled my response based on where I was looking at at any given time #and I wanted to get my reply back before you hit the sheets for the night!!! still it took me some time but I hope I made it!!! #ahhh Lyn I hope you rest well! I’m going to have an amazing birthday and you’re a contributing factor in that my friend.. Mai Bruzha!!! #I know for a fact I’m forgetting details too like just the fact that I love the idea of Tonari and Fushi chilling at night #chatting and looking at the stars and enjoying each other’s company. my favorite scenes of them are always them shrouded in darkness and #covered in some sort of fireside lighting I just!!!!!! they’re so good in the dark thank you for drawing them at night #they are a moon couple to me… and ZeLink is a sun couple to me like idk how you got all these details DOWN about me! maybe we see the world #similarly :3 good to know I have someone in the world who sees them the way I do 😁 #aahhhh I’ll let you get off to sleep now dear friend!!! and thank you again! thank you thank you thank you!!!! #this is truly shaping up to be the best birthday ever!

[sweetandgentlecreature]

Homeward Bound

Author’s Note: Hello, lovely readers! I’d like to introduce myself. My name is Amanda, and I’ve been a long-time fan and lurker of every iteration of the Cavill tag. As a southern(ish) small town native myself, I have quite the soft spot in my heart for our sweet military Captain. I absolutely adore all of the works and worlds we’ve created around a character that doesn’t even have a first name. It’s been a long time coming that I finally dust off the old chromebook and give it a crack as well. I hope you enjoy my first take on ole Sy.

The only warnings I have for you this time are for explicit language and implied mentions of smut, so please do not interact if you are under the age of eighteen. All mistakes are my own, gif credit goes to the owner. Otherwise, please don’t hesitate to reach out, share your thoughts, or just fangirl along with me. Thanks for stopping by!

“Shut the fuck up! Cowboy’s got an old lady?! Who’d wanna fuck that ogre?” 

Liquor flowed like the newly established running water in that small, nameless village they’d been exiled in for far too long. Two more weeks in this shithole and they’d be on the first redeye outta here. Sy could almost smell the fresh texan air, feel the warm breeze blowing in through the open window of his old pickup. Crickets chirped behind his closed eyelids, fireflies danced in the treeline behind the house. The steady creaking of that old porch swing made his heart hurt as he thought about her bare feet urging it to rock back and forth, back and forth. For a moment, he could taste the sweet tea in his favorite mason jar, fresh brewed and ice cold as it clung to his mustache in sticky, damp droplets. He licked his dry lips and shook his head, chuckling softly under his breath as he eavesdropped on the conversation as it unfolded in the next room.

“Have you lost your mind, Private? Do you want him to put your ass on latrine duty for the rest of our stay? He catches wind of you talkin’ shit about his woman, and they’ll be shipping us all back in pine boxes.” Cole scoffed and shook his head. They’d spent nearly a year out here busting their asses to get the water flowing again and he wouldn’t let the actions of one drunk jackass get him in trouble with the boss. He took a heavy pull from the amber bottle in his hands and sighed. “For the record…even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then.” His comment sent the rest of the platoon howling with laughter. Sy simply smirked. He got that one from me. 

Cracking open the old metal tin with his name spray painted across the top, Syverson took out the stack of letters he’d accumulated over the last several months he’d spent away from home. “One last time, darlin’” he promised her. “Then I’m all yers. Ye’ll be sick’a me. Beg me ta’ get outta yer hair.”  

In truth, the thought of returning to civilian life scared him a bit. He enlisted the moment he could on the day he turned eighteen. Signed his life away, threw himself to the wolves, and got married to the job. Two decades later, he wasn’t sure he’d be any good at keeping a normal schedule. Johnny at the sawmill promised he’d hold a place for him when he got back, but spitting sawdust day in and day out somehow seemed worse than dodging bullets. His last tour was shorter than this one was. He’d barely been home long enough to shit, shower, and shave before word came down the line that he’d be shipping out again. The look on her face when he sat her down for dinner that night to break the news…he’ll never forget it.

Sy brushed a thumb over the stack of neatly folded letters in his hand. He’d read and reread them a million times while he waited for a new one to come in. Phone calls weren’t guaranteed out here. Even the satellite phone struggled to hold a connection. Conversations over noisy interference were brief. “How ya doin’, baby? How’s yer mom an’ them?” “Has the screen door been given’ ya fits again? It’s first on my list” “Alright, darlin’, I best be goin’. Keep sayin’ yer prayers fer us. Good girl. I love ya, sugar.” Nervous energy churned in his gut as he thought about laying eyes on her again. He wondered how long her hair had gotten. She knew he liked it long. Long enough to wrap around his fist and pull her back into him as he… Fuck. He couldn’t think about that right now. Two more weeks. Two more weeks and he’d be home. Home for good.

—

Life bustled around him as heavy, dusty boots thudded dully across the floor of the Houston airport. Men in suits talked into cell phones and toted briefcases as they brushed past him to get their luggage. Kids headed off to their fall semesters embraced their parents one last time before heading to the gate. Sy moved with a smooth, calculated accuracy to dodge the crowd as his eyes scanned faces for a familiar one. His heart thudded hard in his chest, the rush of his pulse flooding his ears over the sound of muffled last calls over the loudspeaker above.

Syverson wasn’t one to worry too much, but when he couldn’t find her right away, a voice in his head scolded him. “Ya must’a told her the wrong day, ya dumb motherfucker. Now what’re ya gonna do? Ain’t got no cash ta pay for a cab. Hitchhike? Flash a tit for a ride back ta’ town?” But then, he heard it. Clear as day, loud enough to rid the thoughts from his mind and send goosebumps skittering up and down his tanned forearms.

“Clayton.” 

Sy stopped suddenly, nearly bumped into the couple who walked behind him, and turned on his heels. He mumbled a half-assed apology to the disgruntled folks he plowed into as he brushed by them. The man was on a mission. Ditching the old green duffel bag at his feet, he threw open his arms as she met him half way and threw herself against his chest. 

He was an impenetrable wall, the force nearly knocking the wind from her lungs as she crashed into him. Tears brimmed in her eyes, wide and wild, the color of sea glass, gleaming in the fluorescent lights above as she searched his face. The lines at the corner of his eyes were deeper, a new scar graced his left temple and was already a soft shade of pink as it faded. A soft, satisfied smile spread across her freckled cheeks as she smoothed a hand over the center of his chest, letting it fall to rest over his heart. The steady thump of each beat against her palm gave her a sense of peace. He was whole; he was home.

“You’re late,” she chuckled, fisting his clean, pressed t-shirt and tugging him down for a quick kiss. Sy grasped her tightly, a rough hand coming up to hold the back of her head to keep her still. His eyes were alight with a silent warning as he held her close. Nuh uh, lil girl. Yer not goin’ anywhere.

“Nah, baby,” he breathed out, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he brought them down to meet hers once more. “I’m right on time.”

—

“What’s this I hear about us getting a dog?” Sy had his arm slung over her shoulder as they walked out of the sliding double doors. He toted the duffel higher, up over his other shoulder as they paused at the curb and let traffic pass by. 

“She’s in quarantine right now. Once she’s cleared, we can pick ‘er up in a couple of weeks. Ye’ll love her, scout’s honor.”

Her laugh was music to his ears, as she shook her head and rolled her eyes at him. “Of course. You just can’t quit picking up strays, can you, big guy?” They crossed the path and headed out to the parking lot to find the beat up old Chevy that awaited them. The thought of her having to scoot the bench seat all the way up to peer over the steering wheel made him grin. 

“Hey, I picked you up. Look at us now.” That earned him a swat across the chest as she broke away to unlock the driver’s side door. Boy, was she a sight for sore eyes. This. The whitty back and forth. This is what he missed the most.

“Oh, shut up, asshole. You were drunk. I had to drive us back to your place, remember?” Sy stopped her before she could get the door open. He dumped his bag into the bed of the truck and backed her up against the side of it, reaching out to brush her hair over her shoulder. 

“Let’s make a pitstop on the way home, alright? It’ll be quick.” 

Her face burned bright red, and she giggled nervously as her eyes darted around them, worried that they might catch the attention of some nosy onlookers if she’d heard him right. “Clay…we haven’t even made it out of the parking lot yet. Let’s just go home and–” He let out an amused snort as he shook his head. Devil woman.

“Nah, baby…not like that.” He slipped his hand into the back pocket of her jeans to draw her in close as he met her gaze. His voice was soft and sure. His mama was right. She’d been waiting on him long enough. 

“I was thinkin’ somethin’ a little more…clerical. We’ve got some business ta’ attend to. At the courthouse.” Sy squeezed a handful of her backside, just enough to earn a little yip of surprise from her parted lips. “Gotta change yer last name.”

#captain syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson fluff #syverson smut #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill one shot #fic rec

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 7

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; none

notes ; happy new year!! it’s story quest time which meaaans- its teucer town. a lot of the reader and teucer being besties and *some* tiny particles of romantic feelings (if u catch them). also just a really lighthearted and humorous chapter :3

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three knocks.

“sergeant?”

“hm? yes, ekaterina? come in.”

the secretary steps up to your desk, where you sit pitifully, head resting on your hands. it’s been some months since osial’s attack and you’ve mysteriously remained stationed at liyue, not that you mind, of course. the traveler and paimon have long since been on their way to inazuma and, according to news you heard from all around, seem like they successfully solved the crises surrounding the electro archon and the vision hunt decree. not only has there been word on the streets of their feats but you’ve also noticed a noticeable increase in inazuman immigrants by the harbor.

but- back to the matter at hand, today you find yourself incredibly more fatigued than usual, perhaps due to your struggles with getting even a good wink of sleep the night before. the sunlight creeping through the windows seems to sting your eyes harsher than normal for early morning but you still try your best to open them and read the letter ekaterina has just placed in front of you.

noticing the strain in your efforts to, well, be awake at the moment, ekaterina clears her throat.

“it’s a mandate from the doctor himself.”

now that gets you up, though not in a good way. the sheer reminder of that man’s existence is enough to shoot an icy burn into your spine, one that makes you flinch into full consciousness.

skimming more effectively through the lines, you find that the mandate talks about a ruin guard research lab here in liyue under his guise, obviously, that he is requiring you to briefly oversee in his absence. not as bad as you thought but also not entirely good. the doctor has never presently explained his affinity for ruin guard robotics to you- because truly, why would he? but it’s no less than apparent how big his interest in them is, in your experience.

with a long, heavy sigh, you nod.

“i see. thank you, ekaterina, you may go.”

she bows politely and turns to leave while you reread the letter to gather the full details of the research lab. once ekaterina is by the door to your office, you take note of the sound of as her heels stop abruptly as she yelps in surprise, muttering a small ‘hello, master childe’ and carrying on her way. the next moment, they very devil she spoke of is bursting into the room.

“good morning, doc!” he chirps with surprising energy for how early it is and places a closed cup on your desk.

“here! i got you some coffee, thought it might help wake you up.”

“thanks a lot… wait, how did you know i was tired-“

“and with that act of courtesy, i would like to propose my own favor to be granted by yours truly. and that is for us to sp-“

“childe, i cannot spar with you today.”

with that, the harbinger slumps into himself like a fussing child, ironic, and groans softly. he’s about to try his very persuasive best to convince you anyway when he spots the letter in your hands and raises an eyebrow curiously.

“what’s that?”

you sigh again, pinching the bridge of your nose. “a mandate from dottore asking me to check up on one of his ruin guard research facilities, here in liyue.”

childe seems to empathize with your disdain for the request and scoffs, mumbling about ‘that lunatic and his little toy robots…’.

“hm, well i wish you luck with that. i’ve also got myself some less than stellar debts to collect today, might as well busy myself somehow even if ekaterina thinks i shouldn’t.”

“good luck with that too.”

childe turns to leave, slightly less chipper than he was when he walked in, until he stops by the door to turn around. “you’re still owing me a spar for that coffee!”

“whatever!”

grassy mountains, building ruins, ginkgo trees- minlin was just like any other area of liyue, though you’d never steal any merit from the relaxing scenery of the entire region. every new place you visited took your breath away with its beauty all the same.

it’s become an unspoken habit to deal with ruin guards at this point and you knew their patterned behaviors and limits like no other, maybe only the doctor himself. several of them sat inactivated in the ruins around you, as expected, and you took note of each one for your report diligently. as you’re approaching the entrance of the lab itself, you spot another ruin guard sat against a crumbled tower- except it was not the only thing there, there were people too. it’s not hard to decipher that it turns out to be the traveler and paimon and… someone else.

wait… surely it’s not him.

“teucer?”

all three of them immediately turn around, except teucer lights up at the sight of you and jumps from his crouching position to run at you with full speed. despite being perplexed at his presence, you still kneel to welcome him with open arms.

“big sibling y/n!! you’re here!!” he yells out, elated.

you chuckle fondly and stand up with teucer clung onto your torso.

“it’s good to see you too, teuce’, but… what in the heavens are you doing all the way here?”

looking over teucer’s shoulder, you turn to the other two, who look just as confused about the entire situation as you do.

“and you two as well, weren’t you supposed to be in inazuma still?”

“mm-yeah, we were taking a bit of a break! we’re on our way to sumeru next and liyue’s the shortest way there so… might as well take some leisurely time off.”

paimon elaborates, until she and the traveler share a look and the two of them sigh.

“unfortunately, the millelith asked us to check out these rui- ahem, i mean mr. cyclops showing up around this area. and as we were doing that, we ran into teucer over here!”

you breathe out a laugh, pitying the pair’s lack of… well- time to take a break without any tasks given to them. ‘talk about leisurely…’ you mutter, quiet enough so teucer doesn’t hear. speaking of him…

“that still doesn’t explain how you were here at all, mister.” you poke the boy’s side with the hand that isn’t holding him up against you and he giggles uncontrollably, attempting to dodge your finger.

“ahahahahah! s-stop! hahah… i’m here to see big brother at the institute for toy research! you work there too, right?”

what.

oh- is that what he thinks childe does? dear gods, that’s too funny. however you do understand why childe would lie about your jobs, you think you’d do much the same. still it takes everything within you to not burst out laughing at the revelation, even the traveler seems to notice so, somewhat understanding the reason but also somewhat not. you huff out a breath to calm the urge to cackle and turn to the two once again.

“listen, you guys don’t need to worry about this one anymore, i’ll take care of him. oh! and don’t worry about the- err, mr cyclops replicas, i’ll sort them out too. go take your break, you deserve it.”

“but- they’re my friends! they like toys like i do! a-and they made the pinky promise!” teucer retaliates.

gods damn the snezhnayan pinky swear.

“plus, he did give us this big bag of mora to take care of him…” paimon eyes the traveler, who returns the glance with a nod as if they’re silently communicating.

“and yeah- we’d much rather go see this ‘toy institute’ than deal with mr. cyclops right now.”

you nod in agreement and gesture for all of you to head back to the harbor, partially to avoid seeing the millelith soldiers patrolling the area.

“so- just out of curiosity, teuce’, what exactly did your brother say about me working with toys?”

“he said you’re a toy doctor! you take care of the toys who get hurt or sick.”

“yeah, that checks out.”

—

arriving back at northland bank, the first thing you spot is childe and ekaterina discussing something at the center of the room, oblivious to your presence for the moment. that is, until teucer bursts from your tired arms to run to his older brother.

paimon, somehow, remains oblivious enough to what is right in front of her enough to whisper. “huh? what’s he doing here…”

“yay, my brother! i found you!” exclaims teucer and childe immediately perks up, ceasing any doubts that paimon might’ve had.

“i know that voice… why, if it isn’t my little brother teucer! my goodness!”

the harbinger takes his younger brother into his arms, much like you did before, except he wraps him in a nearly bone crushing hug before setting him back down.

“haha.. what a nice surprise, teucer! i thought i would have to wait till i return home before seeing you again. how are the others, tonia and anthon? is everybody keeping well?”

“they miss you a lot! tonia prays for you every day at dinner.” it seems that only after teucer’s response is when the realization of the sheer absurdity that is teucer’s presence sets within childe, his face morphing into confusion.

“wait a second… what are you doing here in liyue, teucer? how have i not heard anything about this?”

that entire interaction, you remained merely watching from behind with an irrepressible fond smile on your face- you were so lost in their reunion that you almost miss the incredulous glare childe throws to you, like he’s silently asking if you had anything to do with this. you jump slightly once noticing it and quickly shrug, shaking your head to signify that you’re just as clueless as him.

“well, what happened was- i saw a boat that looked like it was selling toys, so obviously i thought you were on board. and then when i got off i just kept walking and walking… and then, i found a mr. cyclops!”

unbelievable.

“mr cyclops scared off a bad guy, and then i found this nice lady and-and then y/n found us! so we came looking for you.”

childe seems to have another moment of realization, where another fleeting glance comes your way and he sighs, facing off to the side to mouth to himself ‘of course, the research lab…’.

“teucer…” he starts off and you seem to understand what he’s about to say right away, leaving teucer’s side to be right in front of him, beside childe. you kneel to teucer’s height and hold out your hands for him to hold, to make him feel less like he’s being scolded. his tiny hands are dwarfed by yours in a way that makes your heart swell.

“…teuce’, what you did was really dangerous. we’re both happy to see you, really, but please promise you won’t do anything like this ever again.”

childe nods in agreement and teucer sighs, letting go of your hands to put them behind his back sheepishly.

“okay, i promise… please don’t be mad at me.”

“we’re not mad at you. we just care about your safety, that’s all.” childe reassures.

“if you hadn’t met these nice people, and even more if y/n hadn’t found you, things could’ve been a lot more dangerous for you, teucer. i hope you said a big thank-you to all of them?”

“yep! i always remember my please’s and thank-you’s!

“oohh so you did notice we were here… you were just ignoring us, gotcha.” paimon adds sarcastically as she and the traveler look at childe through a sassy glare.

“haha… forgive me, it’s always family first where i’m from. don’t take it personally. i know we’ve had our differences up to now but.. a few minor quibbles aside, we get on quite well, don’t you think?”

the traveler’s incredulous reaction tells you that perhaps teucer shouldn’t listen to the conversation while they sort out their, erm, quibbles- so you gently take him by the hand and lead him off ever so slightly to the side, where you know he’ll be at least distracted enough to not listen. kneeling down, you once again take his impossibly adorable hands into yours and fiddle with them playfully, he only grins in oblivious amusement.

“so, teuce’, tell me more- how’re things back home? you’re not too bored without us there, are you?”

“mm-no, i’m just fine! anthon still plays with me a bunch and tonia always reads me the letters big brother sends us, she always tells such cool stories!”

“yeah? like what?”

the young boy thinks for a moment, rubbing his chin like he’s mentally paging through the deepest, most riveting tales he can recall.

“hmm.. oh! one time she told me the story of how big brother discovered a new version of mr. cyclops! he’s bigger and.. and stronger and he’s got huge horns, like a deer! he’s like mr. cyclops' big brother.”

well, at least childe is keeping his lies somewhat accurate. but the way teucer beams and hops excitedly as he talks about the bigger mr. cyclops, or a ruin grader as you know it, seems to justify keeping him in the dark. the way his big blue eyes shine with wonder is in itself a treasure worth protecting. you’ve practically long forgotten that you’re supposed to be stalling out a conversation to distract him.

“that’s so awesome, teucer!” you grin back at him. “what other stories does your brother tell?”

“hm..- oh yeah! he also talks about you in his letters.”

oh?

“does he?” you’re unsure if you should feel good or bad about the revelation, gods know what childe says to his siblings about you.

“yeah he does! he talks about how you take such good care of the toys when they get hurt and how smart you are and how…”

suddenly, teucer trails off as he turns to the trio still conversing near you, like he’s heard something that’s caught his attention. he entirely abandons the sentence he’d left unfinished to join their side again and you find yourself feeling the smidgenmost bit disappointed that he didn’t finish speaking. you only sigh to yourself and smooth your clothes down from the crouching position you were in, joining back in as well.

“that’s right, my brother’s the greatest! he’s mr. cyclops’ bestest friend!”

childe chuckles in somewhat faux delight, to satisfy teucer and make it seem like he approves of his brother’s message, before leaning over to the traveler and whisper, as you hear it,- ‘just humor me in front of teucer, if you’d be so kind…’

“ahem- ah yes! ekaterina, i will deal with the issue of the outstanding payment right away.”

“hey! slinking off, are we?” paimon accuses.

“but, master childe, would it not be improper to ask you to deal with… debt collection?”

“a bet is a bet, isn’t it? and if you lose a bet with an agent.. well, you might as well get some exercise out of it.”

“are you going off to sell toys now?” teucer interjects, partially with admiration for his brother and partially with disappointment that he has to leave.

“that’s right. as much as i’d like to catch up a little longer, teucer, duty calls! i’m sure y/n and ms. nice lady will keep you company while i’m out, though.”

childe implies with a pleading glance thrown to you and the traveler. you nod gladly while the traveler puts her hand to her forehead momentarily and paimon mumbles a complaint about having to babysit for childe.

“sure!” teucer confirms as well. “i really like y/n and this lady already! and anyway, the nice lady made a pinky promise to take good care of me.”

the harbinger ends up leaving the four of you with a hefty bag of mora to spend out in the city while he’s working and you firstly decide to take him to an elderly lady’s kite shop. she patiently explains how to use the kites and teucer asks for a mr. cyclops shaped kite, because why wouldn’t he- you manage to convince the lady to make a custom build for it with a shining pile of mora. next, you take him to wanmin restaurant, where chef mao graciously offers to make a special dish for teucer, who can’t eat spicy food. you don’t blame him, personally- snezhnayan dishes tend to steer away from spice specifically and lean more towards warm, filling meals to endure the cold temperatures. however, the food teucer asks for turns out sickeningly sweet and even paimon, the awarded food enthusiast, feels nauseated at the end. finally, he asks you to give the wharf a better look than when he was stepping off his boat. paimon proceeds to give a mouthful of an explanation about liyue’s trade port, which ends up too confusing for teucer to even care. instead, his attention is caught by a ship anchor left in the wharf.

“teucer, don’t run off!” you urge as he takes off to see the anchor.

“that metal hook is huge! and it gets bigger the closer we get!”

“this is an anchor. docked ships use it to hold themselves in position, to stop wind and waves from blowing them away.” paimon explains.

“hmm, an anchor… got it. but i think i might get it mixed up with commodore hook.”

“commodore hook..? is that another one of your weird toy names?”

“my brother always sends me a really big toy for my birthday- commodore hook, blacksteel jack, iron tony… we keep them all in your backyard!”

“are they as big as the anchor?” the traveler asks.

“yeah, and that’s why i can’t bring them with me all the time. it’s a shame…”

you choke on your breath at a realization. “i-is that what your father was keeping under a tarp in the backyard..?”

teucer nods cluelessly. you’ve seen tarped objects behind childe’s family house that had some absurd silhouettes hidden by the protective fabric and the snow, but you’ve only ever assumed they were left over building materials- not gigantic fucking robots because why would you ever assume that’s what he’d send a child for his birthday. you’ll have to have a talk with him about gift giving at a later time.

“but my favorite is mr. cyclops. even though i mostly came here to see my brother, the other big thing i wanted to do was play with mr. cyclops! oh- are they selling fish over there, let’s have a look!”

and just like that, teucer is gone again. paimon stomps her foot in the air as she heaves frustratedly.

“quit! running! off!”

you briefly go to see the fish on display as teucer tells you of the time when childe caught him an impossibly large fish just because he asked for it. somewhere in the back of your head, you find it endearing that childe has kept up the habit of fishing just like when his father would take you on his trips to ice fish as well. maybe you could get him to go fishing in liyue, just the two of you when you have some free ti- wait, what are you saying? you’re supposed to be watching out for teucer, who conveniently has gone off to see the boats and seems to have his entire good mood flipped around.

“teuce’, you look upset, what’s wrong? are you tired?” you coo.

he sighs melancholically and covers his face behind his hands. “i miss my brother…”

“what? but we were just with him!” argues paimon.

“yea, but for such a short time that it doesn’t even count! take me to see my brother, i don’t wanna play anymore!”

you sigh and look to the other designated babysitters. they look back with defeated shrugs- seems like you’ve done what you can to entertain him for the moment. turning back to teucer, you offer to carry him in your hold as you leave for qingxu pool, where childe said he would be, and he gladly accepts. from behind you, a low gurgle can be heard.

“urgh… paimon may never recover from that dish.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap

#childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #tartagalia genshin impact #childe fic #childe tartaglia #childe genshin #childe genshin impact

[bradshawsbaby]

Letters to My Love // Part V

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 3.7k

Author’s Note: As always, if you’re interested in learning more about the historical context of any of the letters, or if you have any questions about anything that gets discussed, feel free to reach out! I will say that Bob’s mother’s remedy for influenza that gets mentioned in this chapter was a real “home cure” that people used to use back in the day!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story!

The title for this chapter comes from The Andrews Sisters song of the same name.

Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to @luminousnotmatter​. I could thank you endlessly for all the love and support!

Warnings: Alternating POV, references to war and its impact, mentions of rationing, discussion of war casualties and death, references to church and prayer, a ton of fluff as always.

October 12, 1942

Dear Peach,

First of all, I want to start by saying that I’m so sorry for the troubles your family went through at the end of the summer. Little Frankie sounds like quite the trooper, but I’m sure it must have been hard on all of you to see him so sick like that. I’m real, real glad to hear that he’s on the mend. Dottie, too.

It’s funny—even though I’ve never met her, it’s not hard at all for me to believe that your sister was one of the few babies who survived the Spanish Flu back in 1918. From everything you’ve shared with me, it sounds like it would take a lot to break Dottie Sheridan. I’d bet my last dollar that she gives Paddy a run for his money on a regular basis. Maybe don’t tell her I said that though. I do want her to like me, should we ever get to meet in person one day.

You know, a couple summers back, my little brothers ended up coming down with a case of influenza. It seemed as though they picked it up from some of the kids they’d been playing with. It might sound crazy, but my mother would take a handkerchief, sprinkle it with whiskey, and make my brothers inhale the fumes every night before they went to bed. I don’t know where she learned that remedy, but would you believe that the two of them were right as rain after just four days? I’m confident that everyone in your household is the picture of health now, but you might want to give it a try should anyone else come down with the flu. I can’t explain it, but it did seem to do the trick!

I’ll selfishly admit that the weeks that went by without receiving a letter from you were desolate ones indeed. I received a couple letters from home, which were wonderful, but I found that my mind kept wandering back to sunny Charleston instead of the farmlands of Iowa. When I finally saw your handwriting on the envelope they handed me during Mail Call, it took everything in me not to jump up and down like a fool and make a scene. Just like you, I’ve been rereading your letters each night before lights out. I know we haven’t been exchanging messages for long, but each one lifts my spirits more than you could know. And around these parts, that’s a real special thing.

Despite being so far away from home and from everything that’s familiar and comfortable, when I close my eyes and imagine sharing a slice of your mama’s peach tart or getting to dance with you again and hear your pretty voice, I feel as though everything’s going to be alright. Even if the feeling only lasts for a minute or two, it gives me something to hold onto in the moments when it feels like maybe the world really is going to pieces. So thank you for that. Your kindness and your sweet words of encouragement are helping me get through this war, minute by minute and day by day.

I think, if you’re agreeable to it, that I’d really like to take you up on your offer to show you the world one day. Maybe even from up in the air. I may be Paul’s backseat gunner, but I know a thing or two about piloting an aircraft. You can trust me. Any places in particular you’d like to see, Peach? I’m all ears.

I promise you that I am most certainly NOT remembering you through rose-colored glasses. If you remember, my glasses are very much of the non-rose-tinted variety. But they do aid my vision, which helped me to see that night back in May just how absolutely swell you are. I hope it doesn’t embarrass you if I say that I still remember the way your smile put the stars to shame that night on King Street. And though I know no rehearsal is necessary, it does make me quite happy to think that you’ll be practicing a song with me in mind. I know any song you pick will be beautiful, but how about “Someone to Watch Over Me?” It was the first song we danced to, after all. And I’m sure you’ll knock it out of the park. If Gershwin was still alive, I know he’d be thrilled to hear someone doing such justice to his music.

I’ll have you know that it took me quite some time to get the peace and quiet I needed to write this letter because Tommy Boy and Benny simply would not stop chattering in my ear. At first, it was just more of their usual advice—most of which, for your sake, I don’t actually take—but then I realized they were trying to pass along messages of their own to you! I very clearly, and perhaps a bit selfishly, told them that you were my pen pal and that they’d just have to go find some of their own. Benny pouted a bit, but Tommy Boy just grinned, slapped me on the shoulder, and told me he’d never been prouder.

They both say hello, by the way. I did agree to pass that much along.

Paul’s sitting near me right now, writing his own letter home to Natasha and the kids. He wanted me to thank you for your prayers and for your kind words. He’s not one to get all mushy most of the time, but I can tell that your thoughts for him and his family really do mean a lot to him. And he said he’s definitely going to take you up on that jewelry offer when we get home. He may have made some comment about buttering Natasha up when we finally return home, after leaving her alone with two babies for so long. Although, now that I think about it, my little goddaughter, Clara always insists that she’s a big girl. So I’m sure she would take great offense at me referring to her as a baby. Promise you won’t tell on me?

Peach, I hope you know how truly extraordinary you are. I find it just about impossible to believe that people don’t take notice of you. To me, that feels like people taking a stroll outside and not taking notice of the sun. But it means more to me than words can say that you can relate to me in that way. Feeling like you see me, like you really understand me—that doesn’t happen to me often. Especially not with girls as lovely as you. I’m very much looking forward to us getting to know each other better and better.

As far as childhood stories go, I want to make it very clear that Paul and Natasha were solely responsible for any and all mischief that was had in our youth. I was very much just along for the ride. I promise you that it wasn’t my idea to put frogs in our mean teacher’s purse during the school picnic when we were in the third grade. And I certainly wasn’t the one who kidnapped our class hamster so that he could “live a life of freedom in the great outdoors.” Though I will admit I may have been present when the crime was committed. I was a very nerdy and awkward kid, which I’m sure isn’t hard at all for you to imagine, so I do have to credit Paul and Natasha with providing me with some of the most exciting and interesting moments of my life. There’s hardly a memory I have that doesn’t involve the two of them. I think you and Natasha would get on wonderfully. Maybe one day, the two of you will get to meet.

What about you, Miss Peach? Were you a rebel growing up in Georgia, or a goody two shoes like me?

I’m glad to hear that President Roosevelt is keeping you all informed back home, but I’m sorry to hear that the prices are still going up. I know you already mentioned that they started rationing sugar. I hope more rations aren’t coming your way, but, truth be told, I have a sinking feeling that they will be. We’ve been burning through supplies like crazy over here, and it always feels like a scramble to get more of what we need. But I’d still hate to think of you or anyone else having to go without. It just doesn’t seem right. But then, I suppose a lot in this world doesn’t feel right at the moment.

Thank you for sharing the president’s words with me, Peach. I passed them on to the rest of the fellas, and we’re all mighty appreciative of it. I have to say, even if it was Roosevelt’s words, they sounded a lot sweeter coming from you. My safety and comfort feel like a small price to pay if it means that you and my family and the rest of the good folks back home get to rest well each night.

I hate to end my letter to you on a sad note, but thinking of men who aren’t concerned about themselves makes me think of some of the boys that we just lost recently. Just last week, in fact. They weren’t part of my squadron, but I did know several of them. They were a couple years ahead of me at Annapolis, and they were bunking on the carrier with my squadron. Good men, every single one of them. They were shot down during what was supposed to be a fairly routine fly-over. They leave behind mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, fiancées, sweethearts, and friends. But I think a part of them will still be here, so long as those of us who remember them are still around. They were men, like President Roosevelt said, who put duty and country before themselves. And they deserve to be remembered.

We also recently lost some enlisted men—some sailors on a nearby carrier. We’d gotten to know them pretty well these past few months, and it was a tough blow. I was saddest to learn about the death of a boy named Timmy [REDACTED]. I say boy because that’s what he was. We got to talking one night, him and I, and he admitted to me that he was only sixteen. He’d lied about his age and somehow managed to squeak on by—my guess is that with the draft on, they’re willing to look the other way when boys jump up to volunteer. Sixteen years old. I tell you, I don’t think I could have stomached this at sixteen. I can barely stomach it now at twenty-two. I promised him I wouldn’t tell, and I feel a little guilty to be breaking that promise now that he’s gone, but I think someone else besides me should know how brave he was. He gave everything he had for the family and the country that he loved. I know I’ll never forget him. I know I keep piling more and more names on your list, but maybe you can remember him, too? That way, his legacy will live on. I think he’d be happy to know that.

If any of my letters ever feel like too much to you, Peach, please let me know. I don’t want to unburden my own heart at the cost of your peace of mind. I’m thankful for all the ways you listen and make me feel heard, even with the entire Atlantic in between us. Just getting these words down on paper, knowing that you’ll be reading them soon, fills me with a great sense of calm. Has anyone ever told you what a great pen pal you are?

My mother wouldn’t be happy if she heard me admitting this, but sometimes I’m so dead tired at the end of the night that I fall asleep without saying my prayers. On the nights that I do manage to stay awake, however, I pray for you right after my family, you and Paddy and Dottie and Frankie. I pray that you’re safe and happy and well. I’m always glad to hear that it’s so.

Goodbye for now, Peach. I look forward to your next letter, as I always do.

Very Sincerely Yours,

Bobby

November 3, 1942

Dear Bobby,

I was so thrilled to receive your last letter in the mail, but I admit that I was crying like a baby by the end of it. I’m so sorry for the friends that you lost, especially young Timmy. Sorry always seems like such a trite thing to say in the face of such a tragedy, doesn’t it? It doesn’t feel like it encompasses even half of the pain and the grief and the sorrow that follow in the wake of such horror. But for lack of any other words that would suffice, I’m afraid that “I’m sorry” is all that I can say. Please know that I mean it from the very bottom of my heart.

I hope you don’t mind, but I showed the last part of your letter to Dottie. She walked into the kitchen and was very concerned about why I was such a bawling mess, so I thought it would be better if she heard it directly from you. My big sister is much less prone to tears than I am, but even she cried when she read your beautiful tribute to that young man. We went to church the next day and lit candles in honor of Timmy and all the young men who were lost. I’m so incredibly touched that you would want to share their memories with me, Bobby. I will most certainly treasure them in my heart and pass them along to anyone I can. I don’t want them to be forgotten either. I don’t think anyone deserves to be forgotten. Everyone leaves their mark on this world, no matter how tiny it might seem to others. Even at just sixteen, Timmy clearly left his mark.

I can only begin to imagine what it must be like for you over there, flying dangerous missions yourself and watching those around you, men who you’ve shared laughs and good times with, make that final sacrifice. Please don’t ever feel like you can’t share it with me, Bobby. If you have to live it every day, and face that reality, then the very least I can do is lend a listening ear. I’m always here for you, whatever you need to get off your chest.

To be honest, you’re the first real pen pal I’ve ever had. I’m glad to hear that I’m doing a good job, because I happen to think you’re a terrific pen pal, and I wouldn’t want to let you down in return. It’s kind of funny—when I’m sitting down to read your letters or write one of my own, I sometimes forget that there’s an entire ocean between us. Sometimes, when I read your words, it feels like you’re right here next to me. I can hear your voice, even if it was so long ago now that we were last together. And it just makes it all feel so real to me. You’re a rather wonderful writer, you know.

Hm, now let’s see. Which part of your wonderful letter should I respond to next? I have it laid out in front of me right now, so that I don’t miss or forget anything. Should we discuss your mother’s rather unorthodox cure for the flu? I’d never heard of whiskey in a handkerchief before! I thought Paddy was going to split his sides from laughing so hard when I told him and Dottie. He said that he’s not so sure he should be sticking booze in his baby’s face, but that he’d be more than happy to try that remedy himself! We’d only ever been aware of good, old-fashioned chicken noodle soup and lots of rest. I’m hoping we don’t have another influenza scare any time soon, but we’ll be sure to try the whiskey trick if we do.

Now as for seeing the world—I’ve never been flying before. On the one hand, it seems very exciting and exhilarating, but on the other hand, it seems like the most terrifying prospect in the world. Bless those Wright brothers for being the first ones to give it a go. I suppose if I ever wanted to expand my horizons, however, I’d have to get on an airplane. Ocean liners aren’t exactly the most efficient means of travel. And if I’d trust anyone to take me up in the air for the first time, it would be you, Bobby. Like I mentioned once before, my parents went to Paris for their honeymoon, so I’ve always wanted to see it. Did you know that they call it the city of love? I suppose it must be very romantic with a nickname like that. I’ve also always wanted to see Italy—the Colosseum, the Pantheon, all that amazing art. I imagine it must be so magical. Maybe not right this moment, but Rome has certainly survived its fair share of catastrophes, if I remember my history correctly. I’m sure it will survive this, too.

How about you, Bobby? What parts of the world would you like to see when all of this is over?

“Someone to Watch Over Me” is one of my favorite songs. And now every time I hear it, I think of you and that dance we shared at the USO. If that’s the song that you’d like to hear, then I’ll happily start practicing it right away. Mr. Gershwin certainly knew what he was doing when it came to composing, didn’t he?

Don’t tell them this—we wouldn’t want them getting big heads now—but I always find it to be a delight when you share stories of Tommy Boy and Benny. It makes me so happy to know that you have such good friends over there with you. And I always get a good laugh, imagining their antics. You must have the patience of a saint, Bobby, to put up with all of it. As I’ve said before, I know all too well what it’s like to have to hide away to carve out a little peace for letter writing—Dottie is constantly trying to throw her two cents in whenever she can. I actually have Frankie to thank for my solitude at the moment. He’s been a bit fussy, so Dottie hurried off to check on him. I adore my sister more than life itself, but even I can admit that it’s a bit easier to concentrate when she’s distracted.

I absolutely cross my heart that I will never let it slip past my lips that you called our young Clara a baby. It will be our little secret. I’m sure she and Natasha and Paul, Jr. will be thrilled to receive the letter Paul’s writing to them. Paul sounds like such a wonderful husband and father. He reminds me of Paddy in that way. The two of them seem to have a lot in common. Tell Paul that I’m more than happy to lend any assistance I can to helping him pick out the perfect gift for buttering up his wife. Trust me, I’ve helped my dear brother-in-law do it on more than one occasion.

Speaking of Paul and Natasha, I’m shocked to learn they were such little hooligans when the three of you were growing up. Frogs in your teacher’s purse? Kidnapping the classroom hamster? What kind of trouble did you not get into, I should ask? I think that perhaps you were more of a little rebel than you’re willing to admit, Ensign Floyd. I myself was quite the prim and proper little lady growing up back home in Georgia. Believe me, I was much too shy to be getting into any sort of trouble with anyone. Truth be told, I really sort of kept to myself, even when I was a child. But I always had Dottie, thank goodness. She’s four years older, and she’s always looked out for me. She’s my best friend and my biggest champion. It would be lovely to get to meet Natasha one day, too. Any friend of yours must be a delightful person who I’m sure I would like very much.

Your words are sweet as honey, Bobby, and make me feel just as warm and cozy inside. Whenever I’m having a difficult day, or the weight of the world’s troubles feel like they’re pressing down on me, I read your letters and they never fail to make me smile. I always knew that there were good men out there in the world—my father and Paddy have always been prime examples of that to me—but I think I was starting to doubt that there were many men left who were truly kind and good-hearted. You put those fears in my heart to rest. You are such a good man. I know we haven’t known each other long, and that most of our conversations have been through letters, but your warmth and your kindness always shine through.

I may not be able to speak to how unhappy your mother would be to learn about you falling asleep before your prayers—I like to think she’d understand, given the circumstances—but I can say with total confidence, despite never having met her, that she would be very happy and proud to know just what kind of man her oldest son is. I’m sure she already knows and is already so proud.

I keep you in my prayers every night, too, Bobby. You and Paul and his family and Tommy Boy and Benny, and all the rest of your squadron. All I ask for is that you all come home safely. And soon.

You’re in my thoughts. I look forward, as always, to your next letter, whenever it may arrive.

Affectionately Yours,

Peach

P.S. I almost forgot to mention that it was Frankie’s first Halloween! Unfortunately, the annual parade in town was canceled, but everyone still decorated and the children in the neighborhood got to go trick-or-treating. Dottie made Frankie a little pumpkin costume—he was the cutest little pumpkin you ever did see! We still have some candy lying around the house, which I wish I could send to you. Did Clara, Paul, Jr., and your brothers dress up this year? I hope they had lots of fun!

#robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #WWII AU #1940s AU

[2manyfandoms2count]

Message in a Bottle

Happy Valentine's Day! I'm a little late to the @theerasfestlovesquareversion party, but here's my submission ❤ Special thanks to @miabrown007 for beta-ing!

Happy reading!

Read on AO3

---

Marinette sat at her desk, one foot tucked under her, thoughtfully clicking her pen as she tried to organise a message. 

Her thoughts, which went a thousand miles an hour on a slow day, had come to a freeze about twenty four hours prior, when she’d seen – and heard – Adrien’s lips pronounce three little words she’d only ever dreamed of hearing from him. It was just her luck that they were tuned out by warning beep s, and followed by the Startrain doors clicking shut, as in slow motion, without her being able to do anything to stop them.

A part of her had screamed, urging her to chase after the moving vehicle, but her body had remained standing still on the platform, completely and utterly stunned. 

She still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d gotten back to her parents’ bakery. How she’d gotten to bed, fallen asleep.

All she knew, as she’d awoken in the morning, was that she knew something she didn’t before, and felt a sense of clarity regarding what she needed to do – but that was when her mind had woken up, too. 

And thus the calm before the storm had ended, her mind suddenly swept by a force faster than the wind, dispersing any coherence in her head, scattering words like autumn leaves, before they even got a chance to associate with each other. 

She slammed her head on the table, hoping it would help reset her brain; unfortunately it only brought on a throbbing pain. She winced as she rubbed the budding bump on her forehead.

“Screw it,” she mumbled, finally putting her pen to paper. 

Dear Adrien, 

My feelings since you’ve left have been all over the place, but it’s kind of frightening how happy the three little words you said as the doors of the Startrain closed, made me. They’ve been all I’ve been able to think about (which you know better than anyone might not be the best thing right now – but in a good way! I wouldn’t want you to take them back for the world. Unless you want to. Which would definitely not be a problem, of course. Although maybe just a little. But I’d get over it, I promise).  

Marinette’s hand hovered over the page. She was rambling – which could be fine when she talked, but felt pretty stupid to her in written form. This wasn’t her diary. She couldn’t afford to have a stream of consciousness run on her page; maybe Adrien would read it, and think she was crazy, rip up the letter, throw it in the fire, and she’d never, ever, hear from him again. And then what?

If anything, the reason he’d gone to London in the first place, to get away from the press following Hawkmoth’s (his father’s!) defeat, so he could focus on the latter’s upcoming trial, was enough to justify a clear and concise message. She didn’t want to burden him with her feelings when he surely had infinitely more serious things to think about. 

“Marinette, it can be just a first draft, you know.” Tikki’s soothing words snapped her out of her spiral. 

She looked up at the small divinity, who smiled encouragingly. She nodded, then turned her attention back to her words, biting the end of her pen as she reread them.

Little did she know that Adrien, a small body of water away, was doing exactly the same thing…

—

Dear Marinette,

I’m so sorry I panicked. I didn’t mean to say I like you . Partly, because it’s a little embarrassing that I blurted it out like that – but mostly, because I like you doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel about you. I just saw you, your freckles (the ones I thought I knew like the back of my hand – but that couldn’t be true now, could it? Else I would’ve realised who you were sooner), your smile, and the way you looked at me, and suddenly I got cold feet, and that was the extent of what my tangled brain could produce. 

Adrien spun in Félix’s desk chair, assessing what he’d written thus far. It was a good start, he supposed. His life had been turned upside down by the cataclysmic revelation that Hawkmoth was, in fact, his father, and arguably even more so by the fact that Ladybug was Marinette – he was allowed a certain amount of disorganisation. 

Although he’d obviously been surprised by the former fact, he had to admit that, retrospectively, it did make sense. He even felt stupid for not figuring it out sooner – or, rather, for figuring it out back when Hawkmoth’s powers were still fairly limited, and the damage done (both physical and psychological) was only a fraction of what would happen next, but being too much in denial of the kind of person his father was, and therefore falling for his tricks. 

But his father had grown cockier with his powers, sloppier. His desperation sent him in a slow, downward spiral, hijacking his every thought, eating away at him until one day, he’d stumbled out of what Adrien would later discover was his lair, straight into his atelier, holding his head in his hands – still clad in the purple suit that made most of Paris tremble.

Adrien had stood frozen in the doorway, at first not comprehending what he was seeing. Then, as his father – Paris’ most wanted villain – finally noticed him, the cogs in his brain had whirred again, and he’d made a dash for his room, knowing fully well what he needed to do.

Plagg had to go. Whatever happened next, he couldn’t end up in his father’s hands. 

He’d sent his best friend and his ring away just before the iron curtains had come down on his room’s windows. Just before the tears came streaming down his cheeks, as he cowered in a wardrobe, completely and utterly alone.

Until Marinette’s rescue mission, that is. 

Her being Ladybug, had come as both a complete surprise and an obvious conclusion to a mystery he’d done his best not to uncover since the day he’d first met his Lady. Adrien had obviously dreamed of figuring out who hid under his partner’s spotted mask, daring to ask every so often on the off chance that maybe she’d reconsidered her stance on the matter. But never, in his wildest dreams, had he ever made the conscious link between the two girls who brightened up his life. 

(Not that he remembered, anyway.)

Her plan had been so ingenious that he hadn’t clocked what was going on at first. He’d heard his father go on a rampage around the mansion in his search for him, half begging Adrien to listen to his explanations, half threatening him; and then there was silence as the doorbell cut through his words, and echoed through the house, once. Twice, insistent.

The silence was loud for a second, followed by footsteps running down the hallway. Gabriel opening the door. Voices, cordial at first, although Adrien couldn’t quite make the words out. He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, what Marinette had said, but somehow, she’d been invited in.

“Adrien?” His father’s tone was completely normal as he’d knocked on his door. “Adrien, your friend Marinette is here to see you. She saw the security system go off and came to check if everything was alright.” 

“I know how you feel about closed spaces,” Marinette had chimed in. Adrien had slowly crawled out of his hiding spot and made his way towards his room’s door, frowning, trying to remember when he’d told her about his fear. “It’s almost as bad as one of our friend’s fear of running out of cheese,” she’d added as he’d opened the door, turned towards Gabriel.

Adrien had stared at her blankly.

“Another one of our friends is worse about sweets, though,” Marinette had continued seemingly breezily, but Adrien had noticed the insistant glance she’d thrown him. “You should see her in January, she can’t get enough galette.”

Gabriel had chuckled politely, his shoulders tenser than usual, tearing Adrien’s focus off of Marinette’s words. “Well, as you can see, Adrien is very well, no need to worry. Now, if you don’t mind, I have an important matter to discuss with my son.”

Adrien had felt his blood run cold as his father’s fingers dug into his shoulder, which, from Marinette’s perspective, he assumed probably looked like a recreation of the painting looming over the grand staircase.

“Oh, of course, I’ll probably leave you to it, then,” Marinette had looked down, and fidgeted with her ring. 

Adrien had been torn between screaming out for her to make a run for it, to get as far as she could from the mansion and his father, somewhere safe, and begging her to take him with her. But something about her gesture had caught his attention.

Marinette didn’t wear a ring. And this wasn’t an Alliance ring, which he’d seen spread among his peers like wildfire. They didn’t have a common friend who loved galette. Or camembert.

The only person he knew who loved camembert was… 

He’d caught Marinette’s eyes, hoping she could read the question in his eyes. The way she’d nodded back, very slowly, led him to think she had. 

Swiftly, he’d turned around before his father could move, and grabbed the brooch he’d suspected lay beneath his scarf, tossing it to Marinette (Ladybug!), who’d caught it just as she called for her transformation. She’d grabbed his hand before jumping over the balustrade, almost dislocating his shoulder in the process (a small price to pay to get away, really). 

Adrien had heard his father swear after them, his footsteps rushing down, but he didn’t get very far. Ladybug opened the mansion’s door, and what seemed to be the entire Parisian police force rushed in, tackling him to the ground.

Just thinking about it again gave Adrien palpitations. He took a deep breath and got out of the chair, deciding to take a small break from writing. He owed Marinette so much.

—

Anyway, I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I haven’t had any news from you, and I feel like I’m going crazy. Realistically, I know that I like you, combined with our double… friendship, I guess?, must mean that I’m not just any friend to you, but I can’t help but wonder why you’re so silent. I guess I haven’t really been in touch either, even before your departure, but there’s just been so much going on with the trial… I don’t want to bother you, but you should know I’m here if you ever need to talk. Kwami, I wish we could talk right now. Even if I like the idea of sending you a letter, since there’s less chance of things getting lost in nerves.

Because I love you, Adrien. I’ve been trying to tell you for so long, but it never felt like it was the right time nor place to say it. I think I know why, now.

Marinette put her pen down and rubbed her face with her hands. The more she thought about it, the more everything made sense. All this time, she’d felt as if she’d been missing a piece of a puzzle, which threw all her confessions slightly off kilter – as it turned out, her feeling had been justified. 

What a shame the moment everything fell down like pieces into place had to be when Adrien had to leave. 

She shook her head. It was only temporary. She sat back in her chair with a sigh, looking out of her window. It was getting late; Notre Dame’s façade was illuminated, casting a comforting glow in the night. She wondered if Adrien’s view was as pretty as hers, and what he was up to. She didn’t dare bet he was thinking about her, but she hoped he did.

Do what you will with this information, she scribbled under her confession, sighing. I’m here if you need to talk, about anything you want. The weather, the upcoming trial, how you’re doing in London, how annoying I can imagine Félix being, what everyone in the class is up to, physics… You name it! I just really want to hear your voice again, especially your laugh.

You deserve to laugh, Adrien. So, so much. And I hope this letter brings at least a smile to your lips.

—

“Kid, you should be careful where you put your letters, I almost used it as a napkin for my extra mature pont l’évêque ,” Plagg yawned. 

“It wouldn’t matter much if you did,” Adrien sighed.

“Yes, I read it, you’re not sure you’ll send it, blablabla,” Plagg mimicked, holding up the piece of paper. 

“Hey! That was supposed to be private!” Adrien snatched it from his flippers with a huff. 

“It would be a shame, you know. It’s just the kind of thing Pigtails would love to receive.” Plagg shrugged. 

“You think?” Adrien asked, his voice suddenly hopeful.

“Trust me, Adrien, I know. ” 

Adrien couldn’t help the wide smile that spread on his lips at the thought. He went through his latest addition to the letter. 

You know, I feel like my neurons are a little less scrambled now, but Aunt Amélie is keeping me busy on this side of the Channel (I’m really discovering London, though, which is nice – I’d never been to Brixton, Camden or Hampstead Heath, but they’re great places to explore! I’d like to take you there someday, if you’ll allow me), and on the rare occasions I can sit down, which is generally late at night, I have to try and focus to go through the mess we’re going to be faced with. To tell you the truth, I much prefer sitting here writing to you, even though I don’t even know if I’ll ever even send you this letter. 

I keep thinking about the next time I’ll see you. I really want to run back to Paris, to you; I almost did, back on the train. I’m sure there would’ve been a way to stop it in its tracks, but in a way, I’m glad I didn’t. Even if there’s nothing I would’ve liked more than staying with you, putting a little distance between me and my father was quite welcome. If only there’d been a way for you to be with me… 

Sometimes, I think about calling you, but I’m always afraid that it’ll be a bad time, what with the UK being an hour behind you and all.  

He picked up his pen and added:

I hope you’re okay and that you know that I miss you and our hangouts, both in school and on the rooftops. I can’t wait to see you again, my Lady, whatever the circumstances. A small part of me hopes that it’ll be before the trial, or that we’ll get to be alone together for a bit afterwards. You and me against the world, and everything. 

(And maybe some of your dad’s chouquettes.) 

Lots of love, and hope to hear from you soon, 

Your Adrien

“There,” Adrien announced to no one in particular as he sealed his envelope. “I really hope you’re right, Plagg.” 

—

Anyway. I won’t hold you up any longer, but I just thought you should know how I feel. I’ll see you at the trial, at the latest – please don’t love London so much that you won’t come back… 

Forever yours, 

Marinette

Marinette dotted the i in her signature with a heart, and decided against re-reading the whole letter. Instead, she took out an envelope, neatly folded the page in three, and slid it inside. She wrote out Adrien’s name on the front of it, along with the Fathoms’ address, stuck a stamp at the top, and indicated her return address at the back. 

Then, she picked up her bag, and prepared to go to Alya’s. She’d post the letter on her way there; it would distract her from the wait that inevitably came with snail mail. 

She hoped her letter wouldn’t get drowned in the mass of mail Adrien surely received. 

Now, all she had to do was wait.

—

A week later, coming back from school, Marinette found a letter on her desk, and recognised the address’ calligraphy instantly. She all but tore the envelope open, her heart rate accelerating and a smile spreading wider and wider on her lips as her eyes progressed through the message. 

The date at the top told her that Adrien had written to her before reading her letter, but one thing was for sure: they were on the same page.

She placed the sheet back on her desk when she was done, feeling giddier than ever, and reached for her phone – it started ringing in her hands, Adrien’s face lighting up the screen. She almost dropped it in surprise.

“Hi,” Adrien’s voice breathed on the other end of the line.

“Hi,” she repeated, feeling herself blush. “How are–”

“I got your letter,” he blurted quickly, cutting her off. 

“I got yours, too.” She gently ran her fingers down the paper on her desk.

“Good, good.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Hey, I know this is a strange request, but would you mind going up to your balcony for a second?” he blurted quickly, cutting her off.

“Um, okay.” Marinette frowned a little, but still made her way up. Maybe it was a question of connection.

She swiftly pulled herself out of her skylight, and froze. 

Her balcony was covered in red roses: they were entangled in the wrought-iron, stood in vases on the floor, in a petal path leading straight to… Astrochat, sheepishly holding a single red rose. He hung up the phone.

“I love you too, Marinette,” he said. 

Tears welled up in Marinette’s eyes as she threw herself into his arms, hugging him as tightly as she could. 

“Don’t worry about me not coming back, I’ll always stay,” he whispered in her hair. 

Marinette looked up at him, feeling like her heart might burst out of her chest. 

“Glad to hear that, silly cat,” she said with a smile, standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his.

One of his arms wrapped around her waist while his other hand softly cupped her face as he deepened the kiss. Fireworks erupted in Marinette’s stomach. She wished time would stand still to let her savour this moment forever. 

Although her wish wasn’t granted, knowing that Adrien returned her feelings and would come back to her did make their parting a little easier. 

“You know, I don’t know what the future holds for us, my Lady,” Astrochat said as he was about to leave, gently taking her hands in his, “but one thing I do know is, if you’ll allow it, I’m never letting go of you, of us. Not if I can help it.” He brought her hands to his lips, his eyes boring into hers.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Marinette answered, pink dusting her cheeks. 

“I bet you will.” He winked. “See you soon, my love.” 

He kissed her again, gently, longingly, and then slid his visor shut and took off. 

Marinette wistfully watched him fly away, her chin propped up on her arms, leaning on her bannister. 

She truly was the lucky one.

#honestly this event was so fun #and now i have a bunch of fics that fit both of my hyperfixations waiting for me #post exams is going to be litttt #miraculous ladybug #taylor swift #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #ml fic #prpr #adrienette #canon divergence #adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #they're in love your honour #and they have one (1) braincell #elle writes

[nixytea]

dear bus noona | n.rk

pairing: non-idol! nishimura riki x noona! reader

genre: romance, fluff, letter, bus crush (i know cafe crush is kind of a genre but what about bus seatmates?)

inspired by: my bus rides lol

summary: in which ni-ki writes a letter to the noona who’s on his bus every day :)

wc: 646

warnings: older crush(?), mentions of crying, cat canvas bags, sad books (???i liked it so im not sure if it needs a warning)

dear bus noona:

the first time i met you, you stole took my seat. my favourite seat!!! the window seat. and because you were sleeping, your head blocked my view so i nearly missed my stop >:(( next time sit on the outside okay? but you looked kinda cute when you were asleep…

then i started seeing you on the same bus. every single day. IN THE SAME SEAT. i caught a glimpse of your id while you were putting away your bus pass. that’s how i know you’re a noona. clever, aren’t i? :> but anyway. at least you weren’t asleep the second time. you know noona, you should sleep more, instead of relying on the horrible-smelling coffee you carry around all the time. sometimes you stare at the trees passing by, and i guess it relaxes you because after 5 minutes on the bus you look less tense than when you first get on.

last week, you started carrying a really ugly canvas bag. noona, i love cats too but please stop carrying that bag around the poor kitten’s face is misshapen. the manufacturer of your bag doesn’t do cats justice. seriously, the cat face print looks more like a pig than a cat. return it if you bought it, unless you got it as a gift, which in that case please never bring that out in public again. it’s an eyesore.

the other day, you had a new keychain on your bag zipper, with cha eunwoo’s face on it. does noona find him handsome? are you really a cha eunwoo fangirl? i’m even more good-looking than him what’s your favourite kdrama then? i’ve watched a few of the really popular ones but i don’t really know what else to watch. can noona give me some suggestions? so long as they don’t have cha eunwoo in them.

noona, you looked so funny on the bus last wednesday, crying while reading that english book that i can’t remembering the name of. (was it swing sideways? i don’t know.) i’m sorry for laughing at you. but if i hadn’t laughed you wouldn’t have yelled at me for teasing you! so you should thank me for laughing, ok? don’t be mad at me…i just thought it was cute that you could be so worked up about books. even though i’m not close to noona, just watching you has already told me so much about what you’re like. our chat was really fun, and you’re really fun too.

ahhh, noona, sometimes you’re so cute when i see you. your fashion sense makes me wonder if i’m older or you are. you’re so weird, noona! you’re such an odd person, and i can’t help but want to be friends with you. so dear bus noona, talk to me more ok?

with love,

the kid on the bus who squished your crocheting project by accident ♡

riki sighed, head tilting backwards as he leaned back into his chair. the white light from his desk lamp illuminated his ghostly complexion, and he realised he’d been up far too late for a kid who still had school the next day. twirling his favourite pen absentmindedly, riki reread his letter one more time, before humming in satisfaction when he found no more areas to be corrected. in went the fancy parchment paper, and all that was left on riki’s desk was a lavender-scented manila envelope held in place by a piece of twine. (he’d borrowed konon’s perfume, and he’d make sure sola took that secret to the grave.)

unbeknownst to riki, there was a small smile gracing his lips as he went to bed that night. he needed the sleep, after all tomorrow was going to be a big day. with the flip of a switch, the room was plunged into darkness, but the tiny flame of hope in riki’s heart glowed brighter than anything.

a/n: so…here we are. i just think ni-ki’s adorable. i’m not even older than the beloved maknae so why am i writing about being his noona T-T but anyway! this is my first time writing fluff in a long while so im very rusty but it’s my soft hours so enjoy it while it lasts

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypenwriters #enhypen x yn #enhypen x you #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki x older reader #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen drabbles #enhypen oneshot #nishimura riki fanfiction #nishimura riki imagines #ni-ki fluff #enhypen fluff #nishimura riki #enhypen ni-ki #ni-ki #enhypen au #enhypen non-idol au

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Haunting Past (LU in Healthcare)

PLOT CHAPTER! :D You ready for emotional whiplash because I threw a snippet in there too?! Woot woot for wretched pacing but I don't care because I do what I want with this insanity LOL

(Click here to read on AO3)

Time stared at his phone.

Time Time Sky’s back He’s back and he’s ok

TIME TIME OH MY GOSH TIME IT’S SKY WARS AND I FOUND HIM HE’S ALIVE AND HE’S OK AND WE’RE HAVING ICE CREAM YOU GOTTA COME HERE LIKE NOW ASAP STAT STAT STAT ARE YOU LISTENING LOOK AT YOUR PHONE DAMN IT AND DON’T SAY “NO SWEARING” ORWHATEVS OK LIKE IT’S SKY

“Honey? What’s wrong?”

Taking a shaky breath, Time slowly sat on the sofa. He… didn’t really have words to say. The messages were from last night – he’d silenced his phone for dinner with Twilight and hadn’t bothered checking it until this morning.

Sky was alive?

“Link?” Malon prompted, sitting beside him.

He looked so worn thin, yet his smile shone just as brightly as always.

“Thank you,” Sky said, leaning in for a hug.

Time held him gently so as not to jostle his healing injury. “You’re welcome. Go to the barracks and get some sleep, Sky, some real sleep, okay? They shouldn’t be letting you on a helicopter anytime soon anyway. Enjoy the rest.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

Except he hadn’t. He never saw Sky again. No letter, no text, no explanation whatsoever. Sky had been released from the hospital after his wound and then he’d just vanished.

Time reread the texts and felt his breath catch in his throat.

“Sky?” Malon whispered as she looked at his phone. “I’ve heard that used as a nickname… you talked about him, a pilot from the war – one of your Lost Boys, right? You said he’d died.”

“I thought he must have,” Time muttered.

The couple sat in silence, and then Malon gently laid a hand on his shoulder. “Honey, this is amazing. You should reach out to them and see if you can find him.”

He thought he’d come to grips with everything. Sky had disappeared two years ago, after all.

Shakily pressing on the phone, he dialed Warriors’ number, but when he didn’t get a response, he remembered that Warriors was working today. Wind was in class, he knew that much.

That meant the kid would absolutely be goofing around on his phone.

Nugget, I need to know what happened. How did you find Sky? Where is he?

It took less than five seconds to see the little speech bubble appear, and he waited.

he said he’s staying somewhere close and works in the area

isn’t that crazy??? So cool

like I can’t believe he’s here!!!!!!

u want his #? I made him give it to us

“Yes,” Malon immediately said when Time hesitated. “Honey, come on, you should reach out to him!”

When Time still didn’t speak or type, Malon brought her energy down a little and hugged him instead.

This was just… overwhelming.

“I’ll make some breakfast. Take your time.” Malon finally said softly, kissing him on the cheek and heading for the kitchen.

Time sat still, alone and silent. And then, finally, he typed, Yes.

The doorbell rang, distracting him before Wind could reply, and he plopped the phone on the couch, filled with both anxiety and anticipation. Taking a steadying breath, he went to answer the door so Malon could keep cooking. He imagined… he imagined Sky’s number would be available once he got back to the sofa.

So what would he do? Call him? Text him? Do anything at all?

Why had Sky disappeared without a word if he was still alive? Did he not want to talk to them? None of it made sense. Sky was gentle and sweet, though far more mischievous than people realized, but he wasn’t cruel.

Shaking his head to focus on the moment, Time opened the door.

And saw Sky standing on his porch.

The pair stared at each other for an eternity. Time couldn’t even quite process who he was looking at. The always sleepy teenager had grown into a young man, more muscular yet more worn, smooth young face carrying traces of worry and stress, held heavy in the dark circles under his eyes. His jaw was set tightly, muscles pulled and stiff. His posture was rigid and tall, like a soldier, but holding a tension of anticipation, a defensiveness for a blow that hadn’t yet been struck. His brow was crinkled together, so obviously conveying anxiety.

The morning doves cooed gently as a breeze blew. The surrounding nature brought Time back to reality. He started to take a small step forward when Sky’s breath caught a little too sharply. His entire being screamed an apology, and Time could only fathom what it was for.

Sky’s eyes began to water, and he swallowed hard.

Time reached forward and dragged him into a hug.

XXX

Hyrule entered the bar, breathless and excited. He had just gotten off another 48 hour shift and he was ready to unwind with his friends. Four had mentioned that Legend brought a new friend along. Hyrule had heard about him the last time he’d been in the emergency department, but he hadn’t had the chance to meet him yet.

Catching sight of Four, he smiled and made his way to the table where his friend was sitting. Everyone was still in their scrubs, making Hyrule feel a little better about only changing his duty shirt so he wouldn’t be seen in a bar in his uniform. Four had his colorful hoodie on that he always wore outside of work when weather permitted (and the cold rain outside certainly permitted it), while Legend had a light blue beanie covering his blonde hair and then was in his usual crimson scrubs. There was a third person at the table, a blonde man in forest green scrubs with perfectly quaffed hair and a chiseled jawline. His eyes quickly snapped to Hyrule before the paramedic had even gotten within a few paces of the table, and their intensity made him a little nervous all of a sudden.

Four noticed the new guy’s scrutiny and followed his gaze, smiling in recognition. “Hey, Hyrule, you’re—”

Four’s smile turned upside down as he scrutinized Hyrule. “You’re soaking wet.”

Hyrule shrugged sheepishly. “I didn’t expect the rain.”

“Where did you park?” Four asked skeptically. “Is it raining that hard?”

Hyrule fumbled for an answer hastily. “O-oh, I—not far, I—I decided to bike today.”

“You bike?” Legend questioned.

Hyrule smiled, elated and proud. “Yeah! I just got the bike last week!”

“Well look at you, being all healthy,” Legend snarked with a smile. “Come over here and sit down already, you’re being weird just standing there.”

Hyrule chuckled bashfully and made his way to the table. The new guy smiled in welcome, and his face and eyes warmed. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Warriors. You must be Hyrule?”

Hyrule nodded, smiling politely. “Yes, that’s right. Are you on in the STICU with Four?”

“ED,” he answered, sipping his drink.

“So how was your day?” Four asked the pair of emergency nurses.

“I got pissed on by a patient,” Warriors said dryly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss getting blood all over me from my trauma soldiers.”

Legend snorted, crossing his arms and smirking. “Welcome to civilian ER life.”

Hyrule gasped in realization. “You served in the military?”

Warriors nodded. “I was an army nurse and a soldier before that.”

“Were—did you serve during the civil war?”

Warriors’ smile grew a little strained, and he nodded.

Hyrule dropped it after that, sensing the change in atmosphere. “Well, I’m a paramedic! It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, yeah, nice to meet the pretty boy,” Legend said dismissively, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, my day was great, had a DKA patient whose sugar was like nine hundred and then we got priapism guy again.”

Hyrule groaned. “Again? You’d think he’d learn after the first time.”

“Nope!” Legend quipped, cackling. “He’s gonna lose it if he isn’t careful.”

Everyone at the table shuddered. Hyrule looked at Four. “What about your day?”

Four shrugged good naturedly. “Not bad. My patient actually walked today and pain management was great, nobody called the behavioral response team and nobody got punched.”

Warriors propped his chin on his fist, bottle already empty. “Head injury patients are a beast.”

Four nodded sagely. “No kidding. So what brought you to Hyrule Hospital?”

Warriors shrugged. “Looking for a change of scenery. Friend recommended I come here after I left the army.”

“Yeah, get this,” Legend interjected, pointing to Warriors. “He and Time are old war buddies.”

“Time? Really?” Hyrule asked. He’d met the trauma surgeon a handful of times by now since Four and Legend were more familiar with him. He seemed very wise and kind, but also mysterious. Time didn’t talk about himself or his past; he asked others about themselves and talked about work, and by the end of the conversation Hyrule would leave and realize he hadn’t really learned a thing about the man. He never knew Time had been in the army.

Warriors nodded, his eyes warming at the mention of the surgeon. “Yes, he’s the one who recommended I come here.”

“What part of town are you settled in?” Legend asked. “I’ve got the whole city mapped out, so I know all the good spots in town for food and shopping and the like.”

“Northern side of town, Seer District.”

“Of course you’re in the swanky side of town,” Legend commented with another roll of his eyes.

“Well what about you?”

“Lorule District.”

Hyrule headed for the bar as the group chatted about different places in the city, smiling cheerfully at the lady behind the bar. “Hey Telma!”

“Hey, honey,” Telma greeted warmly before frowning. “You’re soaked to the bone.”

Hyrule chuckled, his shoulders rising in embarrassment. “Yeah. It’s okay, really.”

Thankfully, the barmaid didn’t push. Sighing and shaking her head, her smile returned as she asked, “The usual?”

Hyrule nodded eagerly, and happily accepted the glass of milk that Telma offered before skipping back to the table to rejoin his friends.

XXX

Twilight sighed in contentment as the fire crackled. Both he and Wild were off work for the next couple of days, and they’d decided the outdoors was far preferable to the ratty motel they’d been staying in.

Being new to the area, Twilight didn’t know the surrounding vicinity as well, but Wild had explored both the entire city and the wilderness around it.

“Camping was such a good idea,” Twilight remarked, leaning against a tree.

Wild hummed cheerily, belly full of some soup they’d packed along. “Maybe we could just live out here? Beats the motel.”

“It took us an hour and a half to drive out here. You want that commute?”

“I’ve heard of people driving that much from their homes!”

“Where are we going to shower?”

Wild squinted at the fire. “Pretty sure there’s a stream somewhere…”

Twilight laughed. “I’ll pass on that, heaven knows what’s in the water. I’m down for camping on our days off, though.”

There was a comfortable pause, and then Twilight’s curiosity got the best of him. “How did you find all these places, anyway? Have you just… been homeless for most of your life?”

Wild sighed and shrugged. “I got here with little recollection of how. Didn’t have much to go off of, either, so I made do.”

Twilight sat up a little more, growing confused and concerned. “What do you mean you don’t remember how you got here?”

“No here,” Wild said, motioning at the campsite they’d made. “I mean, like, bigger here. Castle Town. All that.”

“You just… woke up in Castle Town one day and didn’t know how you got there?”

“No,” Wild answered. “I woke up in a… I woke up somewhere else and didn’t know how I got there. All I knew was I needed to get out. And I kept going and going, and most transportation leads here, so I got off the bus here and started turning it into my stomping grounds.”

Before Twilight could ask anything else, Wild turned the conversation to him. “How about you? What brought you to Castle Town?”

Twilight shrugged. “Needed a change.”

The pair was silent, neither willing to make eye contact or elaborate on what they had said. Then Twilight chuckled. “Look at us. Let’s talk about something else, the important stuff: do you like dogs, cats, or both?”

Wild shrugged. “I’m kind of meh to all of them.”

Twilight gaped. “What what?!”

“I don’t know, I mean I’ve run into the city’s stray cats a million times over and they’re feral as hell,” Wild shrugged. “The dogs too, honestly. Best to just avoid them.”

“Unbelievable,” Twilight muttered. “We need to work on this.”

#lu in healthcare #writing #lu sky #lu time #lu hyrule #lu four #lu warriors #lu legend #lu wild #lu twilight #lu malon #Wild is kind of impartial to animals and Twi must rectify this immediately #Time and Sky make me cry #Hyrule is precious #Wars and Ledge are chaotic #good vibes emo vibes chill vibes all the vibes

[musette22]

Hello! Sorry for popping in with this random message but I need to vent somewhere and it was always your place that I used to go to. It’s been long, maybe over three years, since I’ve ventured down the stucky-rabbit hole but I was just going on about my day as usual when my brain decided to remind me of the line “but I loved you first”.

Naturally, I had to sit down and stare into a wall for a bit, and once I got home I started rereading Not Easily Conquered. Now, when I was in the fandom I was an avid re-reader of my favorite fics, getting at least five or six reads before I was satisfied (sometimes a LOT more). I’d almost learn entire paragraphs through and through. With NEC, however, I simply couldn’t do more than one reading. It was too emotionally charged, for one, and I also didn’t want to “tarnish” what it made me feel the first time I read it.

But now it’s been such a long time. I think I read it almost seven years ago. And here I am, in the midst of rereading. As I write this, I’m currently bracing myself to start the part with all of the letters in chronological order. I’ve already cried multiple times so it’s not looking great for me.

I’m really happy to see you’re still here. Makes this feel less of a harrowing experience, honestly. And despite what all of this sounds like I actually enjoy reading the greatest love story of all time, of course. Not to be a SAP or anything but it feels like coming home. Anyway. Lots of love to you! :)

Hi my love! Thank you so much for this message, it's so nice to know you found your way back to Stucky and my little blog! You don't sound like a sap at all, that is actually a really lovely sentiment ❤️

Ah, NEC never really leaves you, does it? It's the kind of fic that haunts you, the kind of fic you'll find yourself thinking of out of the blue sometimes and bring back a surge of memories and emotions that can knock you off your feet for a moment. I totally feel you there.

I personally also haven't reread NEC yet, for the same reasons you mention, but I did get it bound, so I am actually planning on rereading it one day! It just hasn't been the right moment yet for me, but I will wait patiently for it to arrive.

I'm glad to hear the moment came for you today, though! And I am absolutely unsurprised to hear that it's still making you cry, even seven years later 🥺 It's just that heartbreakingly good, isn't it? The letters are the most intense, the most beautiful and the most devastating imo, so I am sending you all of the hugs and strength for your rereading of that part! ❤️ I hope you love it just as much as you did the first time around, lovely. I totally know what you mean about it being a comfort that there are so many others who feel so strongly about this story (and I'm glad to hear you're also enjoying it, and not just in excruciating pain..!)

Thank you for your kind words about me and my blog, that means a lot 🥺 I'm not here quite as much as I was before, but I can't imagine ever leaving! Stucky and this community just mean too much to me.

Sending lots of love (and good luck) back at you! 💖

#stucky #NEC #not easily conquered #minnie answers

[jazzythursday]

Tagged by @aphroditestummyrolls for belated end of the year questions. Thanks for thinking of me! 🥹💖

Tagging @stormkpr @waterloou @sparrowmoth @its-tortle if you feel so inclined

What is your favourite thing you created?

I’m going with Cutting Loses for this one, because it’s the first wesper thing I posted on ao3 and the fic I go back to reread the most. It’s also a really solid example of my favourite way to write Wylan’s inner monologue and characterisation.

Which work are you proudest of?

Everyday, Just a Little or a Little Bit—My baby, my child, my 40k love letter to wesper. And I am so so close to finishing it!

Is there anything you are proud of that you achieved this year?

For writing, I’m really proud that I completed all the wesper week prompts earlier in the year. I loved participating and I feel like it helped a lot in developing my writing.

And something I’m proud of outside of writing—I’ve always had a really hard time meeting people through fandom, but finding mutuals on here through wesper and talking to so many wonderful people on discord is something I’m so proud of getting to experience. (And Mutuals reading this, just know that you make my little corner of the internet so much brighter, and even though I’m not the best at reaching out I’m always happy to chat abt anything 💖)

Did you explore anything new this year? (A new way to be creative, a trope you didn’t write before, or an idea you hadn’t thought of earlier, etc.)

Writing Wylan and Jesper as neurodivergent—and exploring my own nurodivergence through writing—is completely new to me, but it’s something that I’ve really enjoyed and want to continue this year!

Which work gave you the most difficulty?

The 4th chapter of Everyday has been a big challenge, I think just because I had a clearer direction for the first three and I always knew where I was going. Because 4th is after the original arc I planned, it’s been harder to nail down what I want out of it. I kept fighting on myself about which sections were too long and what needed more, and feeling too tired/busy/stressed to make decisions about it before winter break.

What was your biggest creative challenge this year?

Probably not letting perfectionism and low self esteem stop me from writing? Getting myself to actually write, and then edit, and actually post things—feeling like my writing is actually worth beta-ing and caring about as much as I do, etc. I go through periods sometimes of not being able to even look at my drafts without feeling overwhelmed, and so not falling off the wagon completely even through my accidental hiatus the last few months has been a real challenge.

Which work brought you the most joy?

Hmm. As far as fics go I want to say it’s Everyday? Buts it’s also brought me the most stress lol. I think what’s really brought me the most joy is just talking to people about my fics. Getting feedback on ao3 and on all the drabbles I’ve posted on tumblr throughout the year.

Which of your works do you think people should check out?

All of them if they want to! But Everyday, Just a Little or a Little Bit, Cutting Losses, I Need to Leave (Please Stay), and Careless is The Fall are all personal faves of mine.

Do you have creative plans for next year? Is there anything exciting you’re currently working on?

SO MANY (if I can find the time and energy) that I’m really excited to get to! Even once I post the last chapter of Everyday, there’s still so many moments and scenes and ideas from it that I’ve wanted to expand into one shots. To name a few: an expanded scene from the end of ch 2, Jesper’s pov of some of ch 3, and an outsider pov with the bookkeeper from ch 1 (he has a name and his husband has a name and they both have backstories 🤗)

There are also still a lot of wips in my docs that I’ve been neglecting. The wylan whump fic, jealous jesper, multiple post-ck things, jesper character study, and so many more.

Lastly, any words of wisdom or anything else you would like to share?

Write what you want to read, and chances are that it will find other people who will be so happy you wrote it.

#jazzy writes #wesper #six of crows #shadow and bone

[betweenthings2]

love love love your writing! the first thing of yours I read was Second Letter From St Julien and I’ve reread it multiple times. sending you colossal amounts of love, appreciation, applause, gratitude, warmth, flowers, confetti hearts… and a request for prompt 19 (for luck) please? <3

Thank you!! I'm so glad you liked St. Julien! I wrote it at the beginning of my semester abroad (also when I saw The 1975 for the first time) and I was lonely and super anxious and listening to a lot of Sorority Noise which is partly why it's so sad, but it was inspired in part by a piece of writing I found on Pinterest of all places rather along with the Sorority Noise song I took the title from.

Anyway, here's A Kiss...for luck.

Matty isn't entirely sure what to do with himself. They're about to be back on stage for the first time in almost a year, for the first time since he fucked it all up, and he is painfully, upsettingly sober. There's no weed, no wine, no nothing, just nicotine, but nicotine feels a whole lot like oxygen for him a this point, and his hands are shaking, and he's going to make a fool of himself, again, he's going to make fools out of all of them, again, if he can't get it together, because shaking hands fumble chords and oh, god, this is about to be a disaster.

Matty is aware that he's spiraling. He's been spiraling a lot more lately, forced to always be in his own head. Just one, he thinks. Just one hit, one drink, one pill and he'd be fine. He doesn't want to relapse--he's done that and the guilt and misery is just about more than he can handle--he just wants, needs, something to make this easier. He hasn't been on stage in almost a year, but prior to that, he hadn't been on stage sober in years. He knows everyone around him knows that, but he knows it too much now and why had he told everyone he needed a few minutes on his own? He doesn't know how to dig himself out of these spirals on his own.

It would be easy to ask for someone to come be with him. It would be easy because he knows that someone, everyone, is on the other side of the dressing room door, because everyone had taken one look at his restless pacing and shaking hands and decided that if he really needed his alone time, he could have it in a dressing room with someone on the other side of the door in case. In case. Matty hates that phrase, hates that it gets applied to him, hates that everyone thinks he needs a fucking babysitter in case.

Finally, finally, finally, when Matty thinks he's actually about to go crazy, George knocks on the door and come in. Thank god for George. His gaze lands on Matty, in his frantic, spiraling, pacing and he softens and closes the door softly behind him.

Gently, he says, "Matty."

"I'm ok," Matty chokes out. "I'm fine, I'm sober, we're gonna play a show. I'm ok."

"C'mere," George says.

Matty does as George asks, practically collapsing against his chest and letting out a very long breath when George hugs him.

"There ya go," George murmurs. "Everything's ok."

"It's not ok. I'm not ok. We haven't been on stage in, like, a year and I haven't been on stage sober in actual years and my hands won't stop shaking and you had someone standing outside the door in case I decide to take off and I don't need a fucking babysitter, except that maybe I kind of do, and-"

"Matty," George cuts in shifting so he can look Matty in the eye, "you're spiraling."

"I know that," Matty mutters, gaze falling to the floor. Still, someone else having said it takes some of the wind from his sails and he manages another deep breath. "I can't help it."

"How can I help?" George asks.

Matty shrugs and repeats, "I haven't been on stage sober in years."

George nods, leaving space for Matty to continue.

"What if I'm shit? What if everything falls apart?"

"We kept things together when you were high out of your mind. I've got faith in you. Have some faith in me, too. Have some faith in Ross and Hann."

Matty takes a hitched breath, like he might start crying, and says, "I don't know how to do it like this."

"You know the songs. You wrote those songs. We made those songs, you and me. You know them."

"That's not what I mean. I mean that I don't know how to be on stage sober. I don't know how to have all those people looking at me." Matty pauses, then continues, "When I was using, they were looking at me, but they weren't looking at me, they were looking at a fucking mess. Now it's just me and if I fuck it up it's because I'm a fuck up."

"You're not a fuck up, Matty. How many times have I made mistakes on stage? Ross? Hann?"

Matty shrugs, petulant. Part of him wants to hide here, feeling sorry for himself.

"We all make mistakes all the time," George continues. "No one notices. I promise you no one notices."

Matty doesn't say anything. George is right.

"It's gonna be ok. You're gonna be great. You are great."

"'s just," Matty pauses. "I'm supposed to be better now. I'm supposed to be all better and just fine, but I don't really feel all better." There's another pause, then, "I'm afraid I can't do this anymore."

"You're the only person who doesn't believe you can do this," George tries. "I know you can do this, but if it turns out you need more time or something needs to change, then we'll make it happen, but you don't know until you try, right?"

Matty nods and echoes, "Right."

And George smiles, brilliant, and asks, "You ready then?"

Matty nods, so George guides him towards the door of the dressing room, pausing just before he opens it to lean down and kiss Matty hard.

"You're gonna be great," George promises when they separate slightly.

Matty nods slightly again, so they head out of the dressing room and towards the stage. Just before they go on, Matty pulls George in for one more kiss, and explains, "For luck," when they separate.

It's a good show.

#my fic #I have another absolutely heart-wrenching idea for this prompt if y'all want

[retrieve-the-kraken]

9 favourite books

Thank you @gwiazdziarka for tagging me (and thanks for all those book recs, I’m adding all of them to my list, except for the ones that I’ve already read), and I agree, maybe all of these won’t be my absolute favorite books, but they’re either books that I think about a lot, or books that have a special place in my heart, but not necessarily something that I go back to over and over.

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint Exúpery

This one is definitely a favorite. It’s a book that I’ve reread many times, because I feel that it has a different feel every time, depending on what I’m going through at that moment. Also a classic. Love it so much that I’ve started to collect editions in different languages; so far I have Spanish (of course), French, Italian, Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Euskera (possibly one of the rarest), and Swedish (of course, because I intend to be able to read it by next year).

Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman

Also an absolute favorite, classic down-the-rabbit-hole type story that takes place in London Below. Fell in love with it, with the world-building within an already existing world. If i actually had to list 9 of my favorite books, pretty sure the whole list would be Neil Gaiman, but this book is both entertaining and comforting, so I pick this one. The BBC radio drama adaptation starring James McAvoy and Natalie Dormer is also excellent. Still waiting for the book sequel, though…

84 Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff

The most charming book in history, composed entirely of letters between an aspiring writer and rare books collector in New York and the manager of a rare books bookshop in London. Their relationship is platonic, and yet one of the most romantic things I have ever read. The movie adaptation is equally charming and it has Anthony Hopkins and Judi Dench in it. Read the book first, then watch the movie, then cry endlessly. Rinse and repeat.

Like a Hole in the Head by Jen Banbury

You should know that I get a lot of book recommendations from TV shows, so I decided to hunt down this book when Monica was reading it in more than one episode of Friends (felt like a subliminal message). And it was fucking worth it. Also a book about a book. A dwarf comes into a bookshop where the protagonist works, to sell a first edition of Jack London’s White Fang, and only after he’s gone she finds out just how rare it is. Heist plot ensues. It’s equally strange and exciting, mind-blowing and cathartic.

The Opposite of Loneliness by Marina Keegan

Very melancholy, this book is a collection of essays, poems and short stories published posthumously, as Keegan died in an accident at 21. She was very talented and could write convincingly about many things. Can’t even pick a favorite one out of the collection, because they’re all very good in very different ways. Very bittersweet.

Los Caballos Estornudan en la Lluvia by Dimas Lidio Pitty

Another short story collection (the title literally translates as “Horses Sneeze in the Rain”), from a Panamanian author, from the region where I spent my childhood summers, which still holds a very special place in my heart, and which has a mysticism about it that he helps preserve in these stories. Dimas Lidio Pitty was very good at magical realism. One of the stories in particular is so brief, but it’s incredible how good it is in such a short narration.

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

I’m a huge fan of classic dystopic science fiction, and this one has got to be my favorite. The narrative is interesting, moves along at an excellent pace, and it covers everything. Another book about books too. If you haven’t read Fahrenheit 451, the premise is simple: in this dystopic society, firemen don’t put out fires, they start them… to burn books. Book banning to the extreme. What happens next? You need to read it to find out.

El Misterio del Solitario by Jostein Gaarder

I have been obsessed with this book (The Solitaire Mystery in English) by Norwegian author Jostein Gaarder since I started reading all his books when I was a teen (I don’t even know how I came across him, I just picked one up one day and went with it, it wasn’t even Sophy’s World, it was Through a Glass, Darkly). Of course Sophy’s World is probably the most famous, and it was very good, but this one is so strange and magical that I read it several times ages ago, and it was such a comforting book, and now I would like to reread. Maybe one day soon I’ll read it in Norwegian!

The Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum

Another classic and favorite, which I have also read many times. Some people like Alice in Wonderland, some like Peter Pan, I like the Wizard of Oz. I like anything Oz related, the movie, the musical, Wicked (the musical, not the book, tho), everything. But the source material is still where it’s at.

No pressure tags: @makingupachangingmind , @voldiebeth , @raincitygirl76 and @phoebenpiperx .

#booksbooksbooks #booklove #book recs #i love learning about what people are reading or have read or love to read #give me all the book recs #i wish i could have a book club with everyone here

[bluberrypeach]

“On the House” 💌 an Owen/Builder My Time at Sandrock Fic 

Summary: A fluffier, flirtier reimagining of the first “mission” with Owen--resident sunshine man of Sandrock--after he invites the builder for food and chit-chat at the Blue Moon.

Read on AO3 here!

Owen’s letter had been burning a hole in the new builder’s pocket ever since she had received it. It had been the sweetest correspondence she had received in her first few days in Sandrock, yet every time she had reread it--something she was mortified to admit she had done several times now--she felt lightheaded.

This was despite the fact that the letter could not have been more friendly in its intentions. To reign in her flustered nerves, she mentally repeated the unmistakable disclaimer of this being a platonic affair with the line, " I like to get to know pretty much anybody who plans on living here, and that includes you! " And yet the prospect of being invited for food, drink, and conversation with this human version of a Barnarock retriever made her stomach do flips.

She had known Owen for less than a week, and she already had it down bad for him . The man was an absolute ray of sunshine, somehow outshining even the unforgiving Sandrock sky. His cheer and kindness had made her feel so welcome, and it didn’t hurt that he was handsome to a truly unfair degree; the new builder hardly stood a chance. She felt embarrassed about her embarrassment, and this ouroboros of mortification wreaked havoc on her mental state, leaving her with hardly any concentration for the crane lift she was supposed to be working diligently on.

The builder knew what had to be done. Waiting too much longer to take Owen up on his offer would come across as rude, and she needed to win her concentration back. Yet even the thought of walking into the Blue Moon Saloon left her cheeks feeling hot.

She finally took the plunge one evening when her discomposure was muffled by genuine hunger. A full afternoon of taking out her nerves on countless scrap piles did wonders for her clarity, and she soon found herself at the door of the saloon, mentally repeating the mantra ‘For the love of Peach, just be normal! Be normal!’

The builder took a step in and immediately winced. This was clearly the saloon’s dinner rush. Even serving a relatively small town, most of the tables seemed full and were surely a handful to manage. She nearly slunk backward out of the saloon before a sunny voice called out to her.

“Hey there, Builder!”

She turned to see Owen straighten up over a full table he was setting a glistening pitcher of yakmel milk on. Throwing a dish towel over his shoulder, he strode over to her with a charming, confident ease.

“Did you get my letter?”

“I did!” she said, grateful she was managing to keep a straight face. She had only read that very letter a dozen times now.

He stood before her, fists on his hips. “Does this mean you have a moment to chat over some food and drinks?”

She looked over the bustling saloon. “I have the time, but do you? The place looks impressively hopping!” Oh by the Light, did anyone actually use hopping anymore?

“For you? I’ve got all the time in the world!” As if the sentiment alone wasn’t paralyzing enough, the man had the absolute gall to punctuate the end of his sentence with a devastating wink. Before she could fully recover, he already laid a hand on the small of her back, gently ushering her towards a small table in the back. “Besides, most folk here are settled in, and Grace can take care of anything else they might need.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Sure I’m sure!” he said with a laugh. “Allow me!” he said in a voice that could only be described as gallant as he pulled out a chair for her.

“Why thank you, Owen. I could get used to this Sandrock hospitality,” she said with a smile.

As Owen sat down across from her, he gave another roguish wink. “You haven’t seen nothin' yet.” He looked up and smiled. The builder turned in her seat to see Grace coming over with a tray of drinks and several small dishes.

Owen clapped his hands once and rubbed them eagerly. “I’ve been meaning to catch up with you since you’ve moved in, but it looks like you and Mi-an have been pretty busy with everything going on as of late!”

“Heh, yeah. Pretty busy.” She cleared her throat. “Sorry I’ve taken so long to take you up on your invitation.”

Owen chuckled as he pushed a ceramic dish of cold cactus towards her. “No need to apologize! As a small token of my appreciation, I’d been wanting to offer you some food and drinks, on the house!”

“I…oh, wow,”  the builder said, looking over the spread. “That’s…wow this is all really generous, Owen! You really didn’t have to...”

He gave another deep chuckle and gave a smile that wrinkled the corners of his eyes. “You’re just a little bit skittish, huh? Please, don’t be.” He reached out and gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. “Everyone in Sandrock is mighty nice. This is just my small way to help you feel settled.”

Her gaze darted down to their hands. His weathered hand felt so warm, though she could feel the cool of his rings on her skin. She admired the man’s style. “I…th-thank you!” She cleared her throat again. “Truly!”

He gave another squeeze that sent a heat right up her arm. “To a newcomer, Sandrock can be a bit overwhelming,” he said gently. “But lucky for you, this old barkeep has been around for just a hair longer than a panbat's age!” He patted her hand then leaned back, resting his elbow on the back of his chair and crossing his ankle over his knee. “Perhaps I can shed some light on any subject you're still unfamiliar with. Some entertainment over dinner?”

The builder gave another nervous laugh. “I don’t even know where to start.” She looked down at the myriad dishes. “I don’t even know where to start with all of this!”

Owen grinned. “These are just some of our specials, but let me know if there’s anything in particular you’re itchin' for. I’d really love to know what you like!”

“I already know I’ll love all of this.” She smiled at him. “Seriously, this all looks great!”

“I’m grateful for your faith in my saloon! ‘Preciate that!”

“Do you come up with your own original recipes? And how long have you been running the Blue Moon?” she asked before popping a slice of grilled green pepper into her mouth. As she suspected, everything was as delicious as it looked.

Owen chuckled. “Well now, you’re liable to make a man blush if your first questions in a whole new place are just about little old me!”

The builder was mid-bite into a bit of grilled sandfish, her eyes widening in mortification.

“Uhmp !?” She tried her hardest to keep loose bits of sandfish from falling out her mouth. She swallowed hard then opened her mouth, staring at the man. When the words didn’t come, she grabbed for the glass closest to her. She sipped the buckwheat tea, stalling for a factory reset of her vocal chords. “I just meant…I meant, you’re…here!” She gestured clumsily. “I was just curious!”

“Ha! By the Light, you sure are fun to tease.” Owen readjusted, resting his elbows on the table. “Careful making it so easy for me.”

How absolutely unfair it was that he could turn his voice into that. It appeared the sunshine man was capable of sounding deliciously dark. The builder was beginning to develop the sneaking suspicion that he knew what he was doing.

As if instinctively knowing when to throw her off the trail, he continued, filling in her flustered silence. “Only joking. You just sit back and enjoy the food while I regale you with the tale of The Blue Moon!”

And of course he was a talented storyteller. He spoke with an effortless charisma, weaving an engaging story that, by all means, was simply a recap of a restaurant opening. Yet the way he changed his tone for the different “characters”, his gestures, and his enthusiasm left the builder hanging on his every word.

Shockingly, as his words washed over her, she found herself actually relaxing. After being so tightly wound for the past week with the move, uprooting her entire life, bearing the weight of her new community’s expectations on her, and the prospect of getting close with the intimidatingly handsome saloon owner, the builder actually found herself loosening up at last.

At the end of his story, he fielded her follow-up questions with ease, and they fell into a comfortable conversation that ambled this way and that.

Perhaps she was imagining it, but even Owen seemed to have adopted a much less stiff posture and he laughed more easily and held her gazes longer. The builder hardly noticed when the murmurs of the crowded saloon trickled out over time.

“This place sounds perfect,” the builder said casually, seeing Owen beam with pride. “I don’t know why my friends thought I was moving somewhere dangerous.”

Owen’s comfortable smile fell somewhat. “Ah, about that.” He stared at the glass of yakmel milk he seemed to have a suddenly firmer grip on.  “I’m sad to hear elsewhere thinks Sandrock is so dangerous, but we certainly aren’t without our hazards.”

“I…I’m sure anywhere has its dangers!” the builder insisted.

“Heh, well,” Owen began, sheepishly. “I’m sure you’ve seen the wanted posters. We’ve got a pretty infamous bandit named Logan. He used to be a citizen of Sandrock, you know.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Awful tragedy with what happened to that building he blew up.”

She raised a brow. “He blew up a building?!”

Owen nodded. “He…he did. He hasn’t been spotted doing anything too nefarious lately. Some folks think, or, rather hope, that he’s moved on to prey on a town more…” He gave a nervous, resigned laugh. “...profitable,” he finished.

“Perhaps he has,” the builder nodded. “I won’t let him make me lose any sleep.”

“There’s…” Owen coughed. “Other than that, I suppose you ought to know there's some of the dangerous wildlife about, but they tend to stay away from town. We also get some pretty nasty sandstorms now and again, but our mayor is in the desert right now trying to stop ‘em from being so bad.”

“Doesn’t sound like anything too unexpected for an environment like this,” she said with a nod. “None of that’s going to scare me away.”

“Glad to hear that! Figured you ought to get a heads up so you don’t run into any surprises.” He leaned over, then pulled aside a sheer curtain of the window, his rings glinting in the moonlight shining through the window.  He grinned, then turned back to her and jabbed his thumb towards the window. “Guess we’re both lucky that your place is right in view of the saloon! If you ever need help, you just run on over here, right? I’ll keep you safe.”

As he looked to her, Owen’s face seemed so genuine. The flickering of the candle between them glinted in his warm, gray eyes, a warmth that settled comfortably under the builder's skin.  

“That really means a lot,” she said gently. “Thank you, Owen.”

His smile softened. “Least I could do for someone so willing to give Sandrock a chance.” He toyed with the edge of his deep red napkin, weathered fingers smoothing down a loose thread. “You know, it wasn't always like this. A lot of people have left, and I can't really blame 'em. Sandrock might not be the best place for everybody, but there are still people who love this town, and we'll all be sticking around, for better or worse!”

The builder nodded. “I can see that. If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure I’m in this for the long run, if you’ll have me. I’ve already seen a lot to love here.” She grinned. “Guess this dinner and conversation really won me over.”

His cheeks became ruddier. “Ah, heck. You really are going to make me blush!”

The builder snorted. “You say that as if you haven’t been doing that to me all evening!”

The flickering candlelight turned to a glinting mischief in his eyes. “Oh. Was I now?”

A not too unpleasant heat flitted down her spine. Such an admission only an hour earlier would have frozen her. At the end of their evening together, she grinned into it.

“You weren’t doing it on purpose?”

He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Trust me. You’ll know it when I try to make you blush on purpose.”

The builder placed a faux outraged hand over her heart. “Mr. Barkeep, are you threatening me?”

Owen smirked, winking. “No. Just warning you.”

“Hmm. Yet another danger in Sandrock?”

“Only for pretty builders who live across railroad track-”

A throat cleared next to them.

Owen and the builder straightened abruptly, turning in unison to see Grace with an empty tray tucked under her arm.

“Uh, sorry to…interrupt. But it’s past closing.”

Owen turned in his chair. “What? No it ain’t, it’s hardly-”

His gaze fell on an empty saloon.

“Oh…”

He turned back to Grace, coughing into his fist. “Well! It looks like you did a great job cleaning up and closing the kitchen! I…don’t want to keep you late. You can head on out.”

“...sure…” Grace said, looking between the two of them. “I’ll give you two some alone time.”

Owen made a choking noise at Grace’s already retreating back. “O-oh! No, that’s not why-!”

"Looks like we both lost track of the time." The builder all but forced herself to stand. “I should probably be heading out too. Mornings are always busy for me, and I’m sure yours are the same.”

Owen stayed seated, turning to her. “Suppose all good things must come to an end.”

The builder smiled down at him. “It was very good. Thank you, so much. For more than you can imagine.”

Owen reached over and took her hand gently in his. “It truly was my pleasure. Let me just say…”

The builder tilted her head. Owen's gaze was gentle, lips parted just slightly as he looked up at her like he was beseeching the Light itself.

“...welcome to Sandrock.” He thumbed over her knuckles before releasing her hand. He stood up, placing his hands on his hips and cracking his back. “I sure do hope to see you in here again real soon.”

She smiled. “I think I can be tempted to come back. The food was great, to say nothing of the company.”

He grinned. “I make the meanest omelets in all of the Free Cities. The Blue Moon ain't only fit for dinnertime!”

The builder pretended to ponder for a moment before returning his gaze. “Consider me tempted, then.”

Owen flushed with triumph, his eyes shining once more with such a charming expression the builder's knees almost buckled. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around then. Good night.”

“Good night, Owen. And thank you. Again.”

#Listen I just wanted that one scene to be way more flirty because I fell for Owen INSTANTLY #My Time at Sandrock #MTAS Owen #MTAS Builder #MTAS fic #Seriously I walked up to him and heard his voice was just went OH IT'S GOING TO BE THIS ONE HUH #Like how I immediately liked Aadit because he was one of the more mature romance options.

[sl-walker]

Number 3.

Because, ha! It’s Scotty. You know it is and you darn well know why. Because he has been my favorite of all favorites of all characters even since I was old enough to have one, and he was doing the same thing to you at the same time he was doing it to me.

And I’ve told you before, but it’s still true, and it’s still *happening,* you keep doing it to me, every time you write him. I learn something about him. You change how I think about him, how I look at canon, how I understand him, with every single story. It’s Jimmy first, but you second, in my love for him. It is a tremendous gift.

3. The best character you've written for

sZDASDasd.

Okay, but like-- I know I've told you this a few times privately, but on the record for all and sundry, that comment you wrote me back in '09 was more of a game changer for me than I quite know how to express? Because legit, every time I went back to re-read Forty-Eight -- the very hardest story I've ever tried to tell -- I'd run up to where I stopped and there your words were.

So, like, for years this would happen: I would reread it, feeling desperately unequal to what I was trying to do, and then get reminded that there was someone out there who loved him like I did, whose life no doubt is marked for it like mine is, who took the very fucking brave chance of reading the unfinished but sprawling story arc I was writing and then who told me it was worthy. And who went back to that very hard story, the one where I was digging all the way into the most wounded parts of this guy we adore, and gave me a reason and reminder of why I kept trying.

Because like, even if there's only two of us -- and I kind of suspect there is only two of us, in this world of billions of people -- then all these words, including the ones that it took me fifteen years to write, including the ones it will take probably the rest of my life to write, were worth the effort of it. And if the Arc of the Wolf gives other people pleasure, that's amazing and makes me happy. And if it gets even like a few people to pause and take a second, third or fourth look at Scotty and go, "Huh! That guy's pretty fucking awesome. Also relatable," then that is brilliant.

But at the end of the day, it's still a love letter first of all. Still my heartsong. And at the very center of it is him (and indeed Jimmy), but the day you took that time to pause and write that comment, lending me some courage and a reason to keep coming back to keep trying, it became part yours, too.

So, you know. Thank you.

(And now check us out, enabling each other like a pair of bridge trolls cackling and rubbing out hands together in glee. XD This has been a blast.)

#scotty #arc of the wolf

[flameblessed]

OKAY BUT TOPAZ. Here have a letter for ur birthday bc I love u and treasure u a lot klajslkgj I am so late I’m sorry but I really wanted to put brain into this and I had absolutely no brain otherwise LKJASKLGJ

BUT LISTEN im so glad I met u. frick when did we meet. Last year?? Has it been a year omg. Almost a year I think!! But man I’m really thankful to have you as a friend and in my life ;w ; hearing about your experiences and knowing that you’re still pushing through despite all the bullshit in ur life just shows how amazingly strong you are and how much you persevered and I really do admire you for that! You try to constantly improve yourself and are very honest about how you feel, which is just so refreshing and awesome to see!!

You’re also so fun to play games with and just chill with on vc too >w> I hope we manage to hang out again sometime!! Because I always appreciate people who are genuinely just chilling and are out to have a good time and honestly the way you roast people sometimes is so funny KLJASLKJG and the jokes you crack are pretty awesome, and I really treasure those moments too since it means you’re enjoying yourself and you’re happy, as you deserve!!

And gosh do I talk about your writing. I know I’ve said it again and again but I really do admire your writing T__T I feel like our writing styles synch so well and im always so invested and reread your replies to me because they’re so well thought out and so in-depth that it touches me kokoro. You have a very beautiful writing style and it’s only going to get more amazing from there!!

I also love your character creation?? Like. Obviously I love Roi and all the OCs you have told me about but GOSH do you make it all so GOOD and realistic!! Its so refreshing and really inspiring to see. Its hard to explain, but you have a way of writing that touches every character you write deeply and its so clear how much you think about your characters and interpret them, and how they develop throughout the story. Like I really do love Roi’s development from HW to EW… it’s so fucking beautiful okay I love him T__T

And not to mention ur canon characters like hello!! I remember specifically one time I was admiring your writing and you were writing a thancred reply – and like. Believe me when I say I was so impressed! Idk how to describe it. It really felt like a realistic portrayal – you did mention some headcanons that differed but felt so true to him and that shined through in your writing. AGAIN IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE IT BUT ITS AN AMAZING SKILL YOU HAVE OKAY.

AND ALSO. Well. You know how much I love our babygirls KJAKLSGj and the toxic shit we come up with :pensive: I love dark stuff and I love that we’re able to discuss that freely and just be chill about it lkjaslkgj anD WRITE IT TO VERY POG LENGTHS AND GETTING INTO THE NITTY GRITTY WILD SHIT. Its great. Thank u for being such a fun rp partner too kljasklgj AND FOR BEING SO OPEN TO SHIPPING DIFF CHARACTERS TOO I really do appreciate it and I can only hope you’re enjoying yourself with your new characters as well!! ;w ;

BUT ANYWAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY FOR YESTERDAY THANKS FOR BEING MY FRIEND AND FOR BEING AN AMAZING ROLEPLAYING PARTNER AND BEING A FANTASTIC WRITER AND PLOTTER AND ALL AKLJSGKLj I also appreciate you reaching out as well and asking if im okay if you notice ajksljg that’s honestly so sweet and you’re honestly one of the kindest people I know ;; you have such a great heart despite all the pain you’ve been through and I know you’re going to continue being your amazing self ;w ;

ALSO THANKS FOR OUTING URSELF AS A WORDS OF AFFIRMATION PERSON I FUCKING KNEW IT GDSKSL:DHL:SDKH OKAY BYEEEEEEE back to bullying you LKAJSGLKj

// So I have been staring at this all day. Just rotating it in my mind. Thinking about getting it framed in my house.

This means so much to me because like... I can never actually accept that people actually like me or enjoy my company. I just cannot wrap my head around it. So like... This is genuinely so nice. Thank you so much for being my friend.

It has been around a year since we met. I am SO HAPPY that we started interacting and stuff. My life is better for having you in it. Thank you so much.

#✶ — › 𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗔 — ⌜ out of character.⌟ #swerte

[shibaraki]

I am so completely enamored with your writing

I think the first fic of yours that I found was life is the tillage? But I think i've read almost all of them by now. It's a little hard to explain, but the way you write is so captivating, like love letters for the characters you write about.

I write when I can, and whenever I get writers block I have a sort of short list of authors where I read through their stuff again to help me feel more inspired creatively.

I love your storytelling, your worldbuilding, the way you describe the settings and the characters, it makes it easy to fall in love with them and I usually end up thinking about them for days after I close the fic

Sometimes even weeks LOL life is the tillage has been in my head ever since I found it, that one has a special place for me since it's one of the first fics I found after getting into Haikyuu, so it feels a little nostalgic to go back and read it too. It's such a good comfort story.

You have incredible characterization, even in your shorter works it feels like you're able to capture all of the facets of each character so well, I almost physically can't stand it but like in a good way lmfao like it's so good I need to get up and pace a little to get the energy out

This turned into a LITTTTTLE bit more of a ramble than I wanted, tldr I think you're a really good writer and you inspire me a great deal to create and improve my own writing style, so thank you for sharing your stories!

I’ve reread this so many times now just trying to find the right words. like. none of them feed adequate to thank you with. and I want to give this more than an ugly keysmash and a crying meme BUT GENUINELY I am about to ugly cry!!!

‘love letters to the characters’ is exactly what I aim for when I write. It’s incredibly satisfying to know those feelings bleed through and you can feel it!!!!!! just the fact that I help to inspire you and I’ve written things that stuck with you has made my heart grow 300 times bigger. that is actually so profound omg I really will cry (இ﹏இ`｡) AND IT MAKES YOU WANT TO STIM???? I’m losing my marbles. if I could I would reach through this screen and give you a big hug.

and I’m so happy you loved ‘life is the tillage’, I wrote that one when I was in a pretty dark place in my life, and it was basically me climbing my way out of that hole. having people like yourself come to tell me the impact it left on them has been incredible. you’re so wonderful, thank you from the bottom of my heart! I wouldn’t be the writer I am now without this support from you all <3

#asks #guestbook #I was starting to feel a little wilted today and wow u are just a dazzling ray of sun

[sapphirelass]

Failure - Weasley Family x Weasley!Reader

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧I solemnly swear that I am up to no good✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

'Ello everyone! Once again it's been ages since I posted a story. I promise I am writing!!! I'm just... writing veeeeeerrrrrrryyyy slowly... But hey, what can one do?

Tbh, I'm not too sure about this one, but I have been working on it for weeks now, so I'm just gonna post it and hope someone likes it. I have some other fics coming up (hopefully) soon - and mainly HP actually! I started writing for Percy Jackson, Team Flash, Spider-Man and a few other characters, but I'm in such a Harry Potter mood at the moment (thanks to the 20th-anniversary reunion)... Ahhhh... I don't know! Anyways, I'll get back to writing for someone and let you all enjoy this sad thing for now! See yah!

Note: As always I'm finishing this late at night meaning I will probably have to reread this one more time and check for potential errors, but it's late, so I'm just going to trust Grammarly and post it for now! Enjoy

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

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

+ CEFR level C2 (due to passing the C1 advanced test with an A)

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

Word count: ≈ 3,1k

Warnings: Mild swearing, death eaters, cruciatus curse (not very descriptive), angst, feeling anxious

Enjoy! :)

Read as xOC instead of character insert

~~~Failure - Weasley Family x Weasley!Sister~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m serious, dad, there’s nothing to worry about - the plan is fool-proof!”

(y/n) rushed furiously up the stairs of her childhood home with her backpack in her right hand. She had been trying to get everything packed for half an hour, desperately wanting to be 100% ready once her mother would wake up, as it would be next to impossible to prepare for her next job with Mrs Weasley around. (y/n) had however not expected her dad to be too much of a problem - it was usually him who would convince his wife not to worry about the kids every time they left the house - but clearly, the task she had been assigned meant taking a risk so big that even Arthur was hesitant about letting his daughter go.

“I know it sounds that way, sweetie, but this job is not like anything you’ve ever done before, it’s… It’s… It’s different, an-”

It felt both weird and oddly familiar at the same time. She had moved to her own flat a few years earlier and had gotten used to not having overprotective brothers and parents trying to prevent her from going on dangerous missions. Originally, she hadn’t planned to go back ‘home’ until after this job, but her mother had started driving her younger siblings mad, causing them to send a letter asking their older sister to PLEASE come home and help prepare for Bill and Fleur’s wedding. It had been a long time since (y/n) last had to handle this situation, but her father seemed to have no problem picking up where they left off.

“How, dad?” She turned around and violently pulled a hand through her red hair, desperately trying to keep her voice down. “Apprehending people who turned to the dark arts is literally my job, at least this time we know what to expect! We just have to transport the death eaters from point A to point B as smoothly as possible, and even if they should try to break free, there’ll be four of them, and twelve of us - surely three aurors could take down one wandless death eater?”

Arthur remained quiet for a few seconds, causing his daughter to put her backpack on the floor, walk a few steps back down the stairs, and pull him in for a hug.

“Look, Dad, I know it’s not without risk, but… I’ve got to go. I don’t think the question any longer is if you-know-who is gonna take control of the ministry, but when, and once that time comes we have to be prepared for anything. The best we can do is make sure the most dangerous people are in a secure place, and well guarded. As much as I hate it, Azkaban is the safest bet, otherwise, they’ll all be back out on the streets, and everything we have worked for these past two years will have been for nothing. We’ll just have to hope that the dementors won’t switch sides. I’m sorry... I love you.”

It wasn’t only a long hug, but a long-awaited one as well.

“I love you too, darling, which is why I don’t want you to do this. I understand your reasoning but…”

“Dad? (y/n/n)? You’re home already?”

(y/n) looked over her dad’s shoulder and immediately walked into the arms of the person who had called her name - her older brother.

“Bill…”

He hugged his sister tightly and put his right hand comfortingly on the back of her head. She was shaking slightly, but Bill pulled her in even closer and put his head on top of hers. This was why (y/n) always tried to prepare, pack and leave quickly every time she was assigned a mission - that way she left no room for any nerves and could focus on the task at hand without getting too scared or anxious. Don’t get it wrong, she loved protecting others and knew it was an important job, but overthinking things just made her realize how much she had to lose. Being around her extremely caring family made that even worse.

“Shhh… (y/n), breathe, easy, you’re fine.”

“Yeah, I know, I know… It’s just, I don’t like thinking too much about it. I’m good, though, and I’ve missed you.”

“I know… ‘n I’ve missed you too. Hey, not that I’m not happy to see you, but why are you home? And awake?”

“Mum needed some help with the wedding preparations, and…”

Bill moved his gaze from his sister to his father, silently asking for a response.

“Your sister is leaving for work.”, said Arthur slowly. “It’s just not an easy decision. It’s not-”

“-It’s not safe.”. (y/n)'s gaze wandered nervously around the living room - her parents’ house still being one of the few places where she felt properly at home. She smiled slightly when she noticed a brown plush rabbit sitting on a shelf. It was her favourite toy when she was younger and had been her father’s before her. “Heck, it’s really, really dangerous, but it has to be done. I don’t have a choice, and as much as I would love to stay here with you, the longer I do the harder it becomes to leave.” She sighed. “But I have to go. Bill, will you please tell mum I’m sorry when she wakes?”

Bill looked at his sister, not really wanting to let her go, but understanding exactly how she felt. “Of course.” He grabbed the backpack and handed it to her before placing his hands firmly on her shoulders. “Stay safe, okay? Promise us that!”

“Bill-”

“(y/n/n)!”

“Stop it! You know I can’t promise something like that. I swear I’ll do my best, though.”

“Good. Then go, I’ll see you next week?”

(y/n) smiled. “Yeah, around lunchtime on Wednesday. Bye, Bill. Bye, dad.”

Arthur looked out the window and sighed sadly as his daughter disapparated. “I remember when I feared for her life because she kept climbing the big apple tree… Now I almost wish she was there, hanging on to one of the top branches, swinging back and forth.” He closed his eyes and leant against the wall behind him. “At least then I could see her. Make sure she didn’t fall.”

“I know, dad. But she’s not a kid anymore.”

“She’ll always be my kid.”

“She’ll always be short.”

“Bill!”

“Jokin’! C’mon, dad, let’s go have a cup of tea, yeh?”

————————

‘The plan is fool-proof!’ (y/n) coughed slightly and regretted her words as she was hit with yet another curse. The plan had been fool-proof… apart from the fact that someone at the ministry clearly had leaked information to the death eaters. The mission had relied on secrecy. It had been planned in secret and only the 12 aurors and a few ministry officials had known the details. Despite that, around 30 death eaters attacked as soon as the transport had left the city, and due to their numbers, the aurors barely stood a chance.

“Jackson, we need to get out of here as soon as possible! There’s no way we’ll be able to fight them all off.”

“You’re probably right, Weasley.”, he shouted while sending a death eater flying off his broom. “But how did this happen? We were so careful!?”

“Yeah, I don’t know.” (y/n) swiftly flew out of the way as a flash of green light almost touched her side. “But that doesn’t really matter right now. Wilson’s wounded, can you help him.”

“Sure.”

“And then get out before anyone’s killed.”

He frowned and nodded towards her. “You too.”

“Yeah, course. I’m just gonna try to take Dolohov down. I really don’t want him out and about again.”

The auror seemed to doubt his college’s decision for a second but was familiar with her family’s history with that particular death eater. “Fine, but be careful! I mean it, (y/n/n).” He looked straight into her eyes. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks!”

“Oh, you know me, Jacky. Careful planning, no risktaking.”

“Good. See you in the office tomorrow, then. Good luck.”

————————

(y/n) battled her way through a few death eaters and eventually found herself sneaking up on Dolohov.

“Expelliarmus.”

He turned around in surprise as his wand flew out of his hand.

“Incarcerus.”

Thick ropes bound the death eater, effectively preventing him from escaping. However, (y/n) was so focused on arresting the man who murdered two of her uncles that she completely missed someone approaching her from behind.

“Crucio”

She fell and dropped her wand as intense pain spread through her body. It was pain beyond anything she could ever have imagined. She unwillingly let out a scream as the pain intensified before suddenly lessening. Despite coughing and struggling, she tried to get back up on her feet but fell yet again as the same kind of agony, only a hundred times worse forced her to focus solely on not passing out.

“Well, well, well… We counted on a few random aurors to stand in our way, but who knew we’d stumble upon a blood traitor as well, huh?” The death eater, Augustus Rockwood, leant forward and spat on the ground, right by her face where she lay twitching in the mud. “How does it feel down there, Weasley? Feel at home?” He pulled (y/n) to her knees and Dolohov, who had managed to untangle himself from the rope, walked up to her and grabbed her face roughly. “Striking resemblance”, he whispered before letting her fall again. She fought to get up but failed due to the horrendous curse still causing her pain. Her eyes slowly closed as she passed out on the cold, hard ground.

————————

“Good morning, dears.”, said Molly, cheerfully entering the kitchen after having forced everybody to get up at first light. She had been under extreme stress lately but seemed to be in a much better mood today and the rest of the family knew why - (y/n) was coming home. Sure, that didn’t take away from the fact that the upcoming wedding meant a lot of hard work and careful planning, but having her oldest daughter home would at least help ease Mrs Weasley’s worry. “She’s not back yet, is she?”

“No, mum”, yawned Fred. “but-”

“She said she wouldn’t be back before lunch.”, finished George tiredly.

Their mother didn’t answer, but muttered something incoherent and went to prepare breakfast.

————————

Hours passed as the family worked to get everything ready, both for the wedding and for Harry’s birthday. Molly was so busy with preparations that she completely lost track of time, however, Fred & George started sharing worried glances around 10 am. Bill eventually noticed and had, a few hours later, become way too curious.

“Why do you two keep looking at the clock every other minute?”, he asked. “She said ‘lunch-time’, that could mean another 2-3 hours? Besides, it’s not like you to worry?”

“Well…it’s just…”

“Whenever (y/n/n) lets mum know when she thinks she’ll come home, she usually adds a few hours, sometimes an entire day.”

“That way, when she ends up being slightly late, mum doesn’t immediately lose it…”

“To be honest, we were kind of expecting her in time for breakfast, definitely before noon.”

Bill pulled his hand through his long hair (which he had not allowed his mother and her scissors to come close to) and glanced quickly out the window before looking back at his younger brothers. “Well, there’s not much we can do at the moment, is there? She’s smart and strong. Besides, it’s best not to get worried too easily, it’s probably just that dim-witted head of the department forcing her to work overtime.”

————————

(y/n) groaned loudly as she slowly pushed herself up. She felt dizzy, her entire body hurt and she had no idea where she was. Actually, scratch that last bit. Looking around, she realized she was in a field of some sort and could see burned parts of the now broken carriage they had used to transport the prisoners. Her hair was dripping wet due to the heavy rain and she was freezing. (y/n) struggled to stand and tried to determine roughly where they could have been when they were attacked. She knew that they had travelled northeast from London, towards Norwich, and that they probably hadn’t made it much further than Chelmsford. Her exact location didn’t really matter, though. It’s not like she could walk from London to Ottery St. Catchpole. That would take like two, maybe three, weeks in her current state - and that’s if she made it at all. No, she’d have to apparate, just not the entire distance in one go.

————————

“Bill, dear”, said Molly worriedly. “When did your sister say she’d be back from work?”

“I- I’m not sure”, Bill stuttered, as he sped down the stairs. “Around… dinnertime, I think?”

“What?”, asked Ron. “You said she said lunchtime!?”

Bill threw his head back and sighed as Fred kicked his younger brother under the table.

“Oh”, mumbled Ron, finally understanding. “Yeah, Bill’s right. She definitely said the evening.”

————————

But, dinnertime came and passed. Still no (y/n). When she still hadn't made it home a few days later, the Weasleys were forced to simply accept that something more serious had happened and just try to keep their hopes up. Molly, naturally, refused. Arthur had, while at work, done his very best to contact the other aurors that had been working that night, but unfortunately remained unsuccessful due to the now tense and strained situation at the ministry. Fleur had suggested delaying the wedding, but Bill insisted, claiming that this gave them even more of a reason to do it while they still had the chance. He could, however, barely stand the thought of not having one of his sisters there; it was difficult enough that Percy refused to come…

————————

She didn’t know how much time had passed, maybe a week, but eventually found herself slowly approaching her childhood home. After taking a few heavy steps, she stumbled slightly and would have tripped if not for two strong arms firmly grabbing her shoulders to keep her standing. She should probably be scared but somehow knew not to fight them.

“(y/n/n)!? Bloody hell, what in Merlin’s name happened to you?”

“Charlie?”, she gasped and grabbed her older brother’s coat as her legs suddenly gave out. “Is it really you?”

“Yeh, of course, it’s me.”, he put his sister’s arm over his shoulders. “(y/n/n), I literally just came home, where have you been? What happened? Who did this to you?”

“Work, attacked, Rockwood”

He looked her up and down with a pained expression on his face. “Okay, come on - let’s get indoors.”

They walked slowly, Charlie carefully making sure that (y/n) didn’t fall and simultaneously pepping her with questions. “How long have you been away? When were you supposed to get back to mum and dad’s?”

“Ehhh… I-I don’t know… A couple of days ago, maybe? It’s all kind of hazy right now, to be honest.”

“Holy Merlin… But wha-”

“Charlie, sorry”, she coughed slightly, “but would you mind if we wait? Mum and dad are going to want to hear everything and I don’t wanna have to relive it more times than needed…”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He knocked carefully on the door, and it was only a matter of seconds before Arthur slowly opened it. He had his wand in a tight grip and was about to have Charlie confirm his identity when he noticed the state of the person standing next to his son. Their father’s eyes widened in shock and he looked absolutely horrified.

“Molly! Bill!!”

(y/n) hadn’t heard such fear in her father’s voice since Ginny had been taken into the chamber of secrets four years earlier. He swallowed deeply. “Come in, quickly.”

Charlie put his sister on the sofa just as their mother, older brother and the twins came running down the stairs. They all grinned happily when they saw Charlie, but the smiles faded almost instantly.

“(y/n/n)?” George effortlessly jumped over an old armchair and kneeled by the couch. “Are you okay?” He removed some blood from her face using the sleeve of his jumper.

She smiled and nodded weakly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t” *cough* “don’t worry. What happened to your ear?”.

Bill and Charlie embraced each other quickly while Molly joined George on the floor. The two oldest brothers both glanced at their sister. She lay so incredibly still; completely motionless save for her steady breathing. Just as those thoughts crossed his mind, Charlie noticed something and was about to point it out when Bill beat him to it.

The oldest brother had walked over to join his family by the sofa and placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “(y/n/n)? You’re twitching.”

“I know.” She sighed deeply. “It’ll pass, though.

He looked deep into her eyes and fought to keep eye contact when he whispered, “was it-”

“Yes”, she answered honestly. “But, Bill, I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s okay. Besides, it was way worse a few days ago… Speaking of which, what day is it?”

“Wednesday”, said Molly bitterly, obviously understanding the meaning of the words just exchanged between her oldest son and daughter, but deciding not to push it further. “10 days. 10 days, (y/n/n). Not a word?”

“I’m sorry, mum. Truly.” She then explained everything, from the detailed plan to the overwhelming defeat. “Imagine if we had taken them down instead?” She put her head in her hands and sighed sadly. “Imagine how many people will die now, because we let them all go.”

“Sweetie”, sighed Arthur, taking her hands in his. ”You didn’t ‘let them go’. You did everything you could.”

She closed her eyes sadly. “Not enough, dad.”

“(y/n/n)”, said Bill seriously. “You can’t think like that. We’re at war, we can’t go in expecting to keep everybody safe. There will be casualties. Some of the death eaters didn’t make it either. Think instead of all the people who will survive the war now thanks to you.”

“Bill, I know for a fact that Rockwood and Dolohov got away. We’re all…”, she glanced carefully at her mother. “All aware that they won’t hesitate to kill. A-”

“It’s not like they’re invincible now?”, Fred interrupted. “(y/n/n), you’ll get another chance. Just rest now, please. You’ll be back in the field in no time, and it’ll be like this never happened.”

“Sure, bu-”

“No!”, said Molly with a firm tone. “No buts! Fred is right, you need to rest, dear.” She kissed her daughter on her forehead and left the room. The others took that as a sign and left the room with a quick ‘sleep tight’ or ‘g’night’.

(y/n) Weasley tried to listen to her family and put this minor setback behind her. She managed it for a while. At least until that fateful day of the final battle between good and bad. The day when the consequences of her failure became clear. The day her younger brother lost his life because of her.

~ L

Masterlist

Mischief Managed

Nox

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