#during breakfast before school that i puked every morning for some time

[sarahsmi13s]

Mama's Don't Get Sick Days

whumptober day 18: fever / vomiting / warm soup

pairing: mickey 'fanboy' garcia x reader

characters: mickey garcia, wife!reader, genevieve garcia, jayda garcia, sebastian garcia

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, vomiting, mickey is a dad, parenting while sick, fever, neglecting health, please let me know if I missed any

word count: ~ 2.1k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace

also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary: when your a spouse and a parent, sometimes you forget that you can be taken care of as well

You sighed as you sat on the couch. Your head was pounding and your stomach was churning with the whole lot of nothing that was in it.

Running around all morning with three kids, two of them under the age of 5 and one of them was just learning how to walk, was an absolute nightmare with how you were feeling.

Mickey had woken you up with a forehead kiss before going off to work and then your 6 and 4 year old woke you up a little while later with Genevieve crying because she was gonna be late for school.

So, with a splitting headache and sinus pressure, you got her dressed and fed her breakfast before getting all of your kids in the car and taking her to school.

The rest of the day was a blur of chasing Jayda and keeping her occupied and keeping little Sebastian out of things and things out of his mouth. 

Jayda was 4 and pretty good at staying out of trouble, but she was still young and had an independent head on her shoulders – so asking for help was never really an option so you had to make sure she wasn’t climbing on things and getting stuck on the closet's top shelf.

Sebastian was 1 and just learning how to walk. So he was getting into anything he reached and if it was on the floor or the table it most likely was going in his mouth.

So, between keeping Jayda on the ground, Sebastian from eating something he shouldn’t, and you not puking every time you bent over or changed a diaper and going through tissues like you were watching the saddest scene 100 times, you were exhausted. 

But you had to stay awake even if those two were napping, because you had to pick up Gen from school on time.

“Mama?” Gen asked from her bar stool as you make her after school snack of Goldfish, and her dried mangos that you forgot to pack that morning, and turkey cheese rolls. 

You glanced over your shoulder, “What’s up Vieve?” “Are you feeling okay? You look like I feel when I’m feeling icky,” she said, sounding so sweet as she rested her head on the counter. “And I was almost late for school, you always have me up…” “I’m okay baby, just a little frazzled today,” you said before coughing into your arm.

Sniffling, you turned and put the paper plate in front of her, “I’m really sorry about this morning, I should’ve gotten up sooner.” Genevieve took a bite of her turkey cheese roll, “It’s okay I got to school on time.”

You gave her a gentle smile before kissing her head, “Did you have a good day?” She nodded, “I did, Jacie and I played…” You nodded along with her as she proceeded to tell you about her day, listening to her as you took some Cutie slices off of Jayda’s plate and Cheerios off of Sebastian’s tray.

At some point while she was talking you went to check her lunch box to see what she hadn’t eaten. 

But as you opened it you were hit with a pungent reminder of what she had for lunch. Tuna and crackers, something her grandmother introduced her to during the last visit.

The smell churned your stomach that last time and anything you managed to actually eat was crawling up your throat.

Covering your mouth, you managed to make it to the downstairs bathroom before falling to your knees and puking in the toilet.

You rested your head on your arm, groaning miserably as you flushed the toilet before regaining your bearings and standing up.

With your head pounding, you wash your hands and swish your mouthwash before going back to the kitchen.  “Hey, Jay, Vieve?” You said softly as you got Sebastian out of his high chair. “Yes Mama?” “I’m gonna go sit on the couch, Bash is gonna be in his playpen. Finish your snacks and then you can play okay?”

They both nodded before Genevieve stopped you with a hand on your arm as you walked by, “Are you not feeling well?” You sighed, “No, baby, I’m a little under the weather but don’t you worry, I’m gonna be okay.”

You gave her a gentle smile before going to the living room and putting Sebastian in his playpen. You sighed as you sat down. “Oh lordy… just a few more hours and he’ll be home and I can rest.” 

As you curl up under a blanket and move the trash can closer to the couch, you rest your cold hands on your face to try and relieve the pressure in your nose. 

You can make out Jayda and Genevieve arguing in the kitchen. “I can take the Sprite to Mama!” “Jay, you can’t reach them in the fridge! Get the crackers!” “I don’t wanna!”

“Girls! Please don’t yell,” you groaned a little from your spot on the couch. “Sorry Mama!”

You sighed and rubbed your head before you heard more loud noises coming from the kitchen and then a little, “Oopsie.”

“What happened?” 

“Jayda tried to get a can of Sprite and dropped them…” 

Taking a sharp inhale, you look up at the ceiling and let it out before looking at Sebastian, “I’ll be right back Bash. Mama has a mess to clean.” “No! I gots it, Mama! I’ll get a towel,” Jayda said as she ran to the laundry room.

“Okay,” you sighed, at this point it was useless to try and argue. You were tired, you could mop it up later.

“Here Mama, I got you some water,” Genevieve said softly as she brought you a cup. It was over flowing, and you were sure there was a trail of water behind her. But the thought was sweet. “Thank you baby.”

You sipped the water in your glass before sitting it down and leaning back.

“Mama! I brought you crackers!” Jayda shouted, running over with a sleeve of crackers. 

You smiled a little, “Thank you Jay.” You reached for them but she held out a hand, “No, I’ll open it!” “Jayda, don’t yell! Mama has a headache!” “Vieve, you’re yelling,” you said gently. “Sorry Mama.” 

You looked back to Jayda to see her struggling before ripping it open and spilling crackers on the carpet. “Oops…” She looked up at you and handed you what was left, “Here you go.” “Thank you hun.”

“Why don’t you both go play in your room, Gen. Daddy will be home soon and you can go outside.”

They nodded before running up the stairs. 

You sighed and held your head in your hands before sliding to the floor and picking up the crackers and throwing them away. 

But your position change made blood rush to your head and triggered your gag reflex. “Shit,” you muttered before gripping the edges of the trash can and just waiting for it. Apparently it was taking its time until you sat up because it all rushed up at once when you did.

Groaning into the trash can, you spat into it before getting up and going back into the bathroom to wash your mouth out again.

You came back into the living room to hear Sebastian crying. 

“Oh Bash, Mama left you alone didn’t she. I’m sorry,” you said, picking him up and shushing him gently. “Oh I know baby boy, I’m sorry.” 

It took you about 20 minutes of that before he fell asleep in your arms and you laid him down in his playpen. 

“There you go, baby.” You sighed and laid down on the couch. “Just an hour, and Mickey will be home…” You cuddled up with a blanket and turned the TV on, “Just need to relax for a little bit.”

Mickey smiled as he walked in, “Hey, guess who’s home?” “Shhhh, Daddy, Mama’s sleeping,” Genevieve hissed from her spot on the carpet. 

“Oh,” he winced. “Sorry sorry.” 

He put his bag down gently before walking in, seeing tissues on nearly every surface from where you had blown your nose while you chased kids around the house. And then when he got to the living room he noticed the trash can next to the couch.

The girls were coloring in the living room, having come down to watch TV just before Mickey got home, and Sebastian was still napping.

He sighed and went over to you, glancing to see the vomit in the trash can. He knelt down, feeling the saltines break under his weight. 

“Hey, baby?” Mickey gently shook your shoulder, putting the inside of his wrist to your forehead, “Shit… you’re burning up.” He patted your face, “Hey honey.” 

You groaned a little as your eyes fluttered open, “Hey, Mick…”

“How long have you been like this?” 

“What do you mean?” 

He arched his brow, “Um, you’re cuddled up on the couch burning up and sweating like I do on the tarmac? Honey, have you felt icky all day?” He censored himself, remembering little ears were in ear shot. 

“I um,” you said sniffling as you sat up. Mickey watched you close your eyes and groan as you steadied yourself and he frowned. “Sweetheart…” “I’m okay Mick, just a little-” 

Your sentence got interrupted by a sudden rush of sick. “Trash can…” Mickey didn’t even question it and held the trash can up, holding your hair back with his free hand.

“I got you baby, I got ya.” 

“Daddy? Is Mama okay?” Jayda asked, a little worry in her voice. “Yeah, Mama’s gonna be okay. She’s just not feeling well, but she’s okay.” Jayda nodded and quietly went back to coloring. 

Once you’re done throwing up, Mickey helps you stand. “Girls, Mama and I will be right back, be good okay?” “Yes Daddy,” they both said as they continued to color.

Mickey helped you to the bathroom and sat you on the closed toilet as he looked for the thermometer. “Have you felt bad all day?” You opened your mouth but he spoke again. “And don’t lie to me.”

You sighed and nodded as he held the thermometer up and put it in your mouth.

“You’ve felt shitty all day?” You nodded again as the thermometer beeped and he took it out to look at it. “101.3, fuck, Honey. Why didn’t you call me? I would have come home. Mav would under-”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to take you away from work.” “Screw work, you’re sick and you took care of three kids by yourself. Honey, you’re exhausted and you won’t get better if you don’t let yourself rest.”

You shook your head before groaning a little at the headache the action gave you, “Miguel, you can’t-” You blinked as you stopped mid sentence, your lips trembling as you felt sick again. Covering your mouth, you moved to the floor and lifted the lid to throw up in the toilet.

Mickey frowned, feeling awful for not being here today and leaving you to deal with the kids while you miserable. He squatted down and grabbed a ponytail holder, tying your hair back for you, “I’m calling Cyclone and Mav, I’m not going in tomorrow so I can take care of you and the kids.”

“I can’t ask you to do that… You love your job.”

He looked up at you, almost angry, “Not as much as I love you. And you’re not asking, that’s the reason I’m telling you that I’m not going in.”

You stayed quiet and just shook your head, trying not to get sick again, “I need to make dinner…” He shook his head right back, “You’re not serious, you’re actively trying not to throw up again. Y/N, you need to go lay down with a cold rag on your head. I’ll fix dinner for me and the kids and you get soup.”

You perked up a little, sitting up and looking at him, “Your abuela’s soup?” 

He smiled and cupped your cheek, “If that’s what you want then that’s what I’ll make. But only if you take a break and let me baby you until you're better.” “But the kids-” “What did I say?” 

You sighed, “Okay, okay fine.” 

“Alright now, let’s get you on the couch and I will get any mess left by our girls.”

You nodded and let him take you back to the couch before he got you a cool, damp rag.

“There you go Honey,” he said, laying it across your forehead. “Thank you Mickey. I love you.” “I love you too.” 

You smiled at him, “Go start dinner so I can have abuela’s soup, go go.” He chuckled, “Alright, alright.” He kissed the top of your head before going to the kitchen.

“Hey! Who spilled Sprite all over the floor?”

taglist: @bradleybeachbabe @mayhemmanaged @kmc1989 @lovinglyeternal @horseshoegirl @cassiemitchell @fanboyswhore9 @nightowlalltheway @86laura11 @els-marvelvsp @valmare @startrekfangirl2233

hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023

#vinny's whumptober #vinny's rainy day records #ailesswhumptober2023 #whumptober 2023 #whumptober #whumptober day 18 #top gun maverick #top gun #mickey fanboy garcia imagine #mickey fanboy garcia x reader #mickey fanboy garcia #mickey garcia #whump #angst #tw: vomit #sarahsmi13s

[jungle-angel]

Random College!Rhett headcannons: Part 1 (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Notes: I haven’t seen The Line yet, but I have seen comedies like “Animal House” and “Old School” so I’ve gotten alot of headcannons from that and as a result Frat!Rhett has been living in my head rent free. I was a little bit nervous to do this, but all the same, I’m glad I did (lol). Sorry if it’s a little long, I had to pack alot in (if you catch my drift, lol). 

Tagging: @sebsxphia @bradleybeachbabe​ @bobfloyds​

Rhett is the president of the Delta Tau Epsilon fraternity at one of the colleges in Montana and oh does that house have a rep (but in the funniest possible way of course)

Kayce Dutton is his right hand man, new pledges always go through Kayce before going to Rhett and when Rhett’s away, whatever Kayce says, goes

The guys in the frat were kinda nerdy in high school so Rhett and Kayce have a particularly soft spot for the nerds. They’re also really close with the nerd frat on campus and any time anybody needs extra tutoring, they go to them

When Rhett met you, you were kind of a shy little freshman who was two years behind him. He really, really liked you because you loved to hide out in the library but you also loved to go out and have a good time

Your first party at the house though?? Holy shit, did shenanigans ensue

It all started with the new pledges engaging in a challenge to see who could shotgun the most beers in under ten minutes. One poor freshman got beer up his nose and it ended with one of Rhett’s frat brothers having to take the kid into the bathroom to help him blow it all out his nose. The kid was ok but the brothers kept an eye on him the rest of the night and well into the next morning

Three other pledges were on their knees, hands behind their backs while Rhett, Kayce and another guy were up on the staircase balcony dropping flaming hot Cheetos from above and the guys having to catch them in their mouths

Sooooo many drinking games in the basement.....quarters, bloody knuckles, boom cup, kegstands (lol)

Some of the new pledges got a chance to show off their stand-up skills and some of them had the whole crowd in stitches by the end

When you and Rhett officially started dating, you became known as “The First Lady Of The Frat” 

And ever since then the guys call you Mom and Dad

If you stayed over and the newbies were getting too loud, the older ones would shush them and be like “Mom and Dad are asleep” 

One time one of the brothers who was on the football team threw his back out during practice and was laid up on the couch with a little bell to ring any time he needed something and it was literally every two seconds that he was ringing that bell. Kayce ended up having to take care of him most of the day while Rhett had to meet with the Dean of the History Department, which was annoying as hell 

Rhett: “RING THAT BELL ONE MORE TIME AND I’M STICKIN IT WHERE THE SUN DON’T SHINE!!!......Kayce: “DAD’S HOME!!!!” 

The morning after a rager, you often had to be on standby with the puke buckets which were a little less than pleasant

But oh did you make the best hangover breakfasts ever.....eggs, bacon, toast, sausage, coffee, a little bit of rosemary and olive oil bannock on the side. You’re everybody’s favorite cook which makes Rhett’s raging housewife kink flare up

When you’re cooking the hangover specials, he’ll come up behind you and pin you against the stove only to rub the raging hard-on packed into his Wranglers against the back of your thigh and against your ass

Had a long day and are kinda burned out from studying? Rhett will clean up his room and get it in a sexy mood before he lays you down on the bed and starts giving you a full body massage. If you need a hot bath, he’s running you one in the joint bathroom to help you relax. He’s tried out the mating press with you in the bathroom and it felt soooooo fucking good (lol)

On nights when the toga parties get a little too wild and you and Rhett need a moment, he’ll bring you up to his room which sometimes ends up with the two of you falling right into the bed 

There’s a heatwave hanging over the town and the campus? Rhett and his frat brothers will dig a big pit in the backyard, fill it with ice and let everybody relax in it. When it melts? MUD WRESTLING!!!!!!

If the heatwave lasts more than a week, Rhett and the guys gather everybody up and go down to the reservoir to make a giant slip n’ slide down into the water 

You had first dibs since you were the First Lady but as soon as you hit the water, you lost your bikini top. Rhett ended up diving in and searching for it only to come back up with your bikini top in his teeth and a big shit-eating grin on his face

When it’s tick season, Rhett will literally ram it into the guys heads that they’d better check themselves and each other before and after they go traipsing through the woods or high grass. If you’re trying to check an area that’s a little hard to reach, he’ll bring you upstairs to his room for a full on pussy inspection to make sure. He’s even got a kit that has a homemade oil mix in it that’ll kill the ticks. Sometimes he’ll just use it as an excuse to rub it all in there anyways just so he can hear you moan and get you off (lol)

When Rhett walks you home at night, the rest of the frat are stationed in the trees, in the bushes or in their vehicles parked on the side of the road to keep a watch out for the frat boys who are actual assholes 

And if Rhett can’t walk you home for one reason or another? Kayce and the rest of the boys basically become your secret service escort

But there was one night you knew you wouldn’t forget 

The guys were throwing a rager to blow off some steam after midterms

And they set up a dance floor in the middle of the living room

Everybody cleared the way for you and Rhett, the President and First Lady of Delta Tau Epsilon

You were almost in tears when the song started playing, looking into Rhett’s eyes as he whispered a very quiet “I love you”

When “Where The Streets Have No Name” by U2 started playing, you, Rhett and the whole house started jumping which shook the house (that was also the song that would play when the football team charged out into the stadium during a game)

And when you all started singing at the same time, it reminded you of a big stadium concert

But you and Rhett didn’t let go of each other the entire time, the both of you belting out the lyrics with the others

And ever since then, you, Rhett and his frat brothers remained close for the rest of your days

#outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #kayce dutton #rhett abbott headcannons #rhett abbott x reader headcannons

[musewritingsforyou]

A Normal? Day

Summary: A normal day in the life of Beacon Hills Favorite Couple

Warnings: unbearable Fluff, plot points that wont make sense just yet

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I realized I dont have any of my Stiles work updated yet! This is just a short little oneshot to show people what my stiles writing will kind of be like. I wrote it to be included in a season rewrite that I am doing but It didnt fit great so now im just giving it to you for fun!

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*somethings that wont make sense to you will be explained if you go read my series rewrite in the next few weeks!*

A normal day in a supernatural world. 

Step one, wake up. 

Waking up is a long process for me. My lovely hyperactive boyfriend did what he always does for me each morning, wake up about thirty minutes before me, sit there as still as he can (which is not very still) to let me sleep in, give up after ten minutes and then get out of bed. Stiles woke up at six this morning, playing with my hair as I slept before he finally got out of bed. Like every morning since we started doing this, he placed his pillow and a spare flannel in my arms so I wouldn't  ‘get cold and lonely’, and then went to get himself ready for school. This was a relatively short process, throw on some pants, decide between a sweatshirt or a flannel, find the backpack and then he's pretty much done. For me on the other hand, it's a little different.

“y/n/n, I gave you five extra minutes. You gotta get up.” I groaned and moved the pillow that was in my arms to cover my face. To my disappointment Stiles took it off and started peppering me with kisses until I opened my eyes with a scowl on my face.

“I love you but I really hate you.” He gave me a classic Stiles grin as he moved backwards off of the bed. 

“I know, you make sure to tell me that every time I wake you up.” 

After walking out the door, and then back to it within seconds to make sure I was actually getting up, Stiles went downstairs to make some coffee and left me to get ready. I was running late, per usual, but by the time I made it to the car all of my things were there waiting for me, along with Stiles who held out a travel cup of coffee just the way I like it and forcibly handed me a banana.

“Eat.” I shook my head and motioned for him to drive. 

“Too early, If I eat right now I'll actually puke all over your car.” He started the car and drove with one hand as he kept the banana extended. 

“Babe, we do this every morning and every morning I remind you that-” I snatched the fruit from his hand as I finished his sentence. 

“Breakfast is important and if you don't eat it in three hours you're going to come to me during class with a panicked look on your face telling me you think you're about to pass out. I know, I remember.” 

I sound sarcastic like this every morning, but even through the snide remarks and the occasional unnecessary and undeserved insult, Stiles still looks at me like I'm the answer to the universe.

Step two, school. For this one I recommend that you don’t do what I manage to do every year, fill your schedule with all honors and AP classes, zero breaks or study halls, and more than three extra-curriculars.

I won't bore you with the rather slow details of a highschool senior. I will however give you this, classes are hard, I don't think I will ever be able to use a red pen in my entire life, and with each passing day somehow I find a way to be even more stressed than the day before. 

The day ended with me sitting on a bench with Lydia and Malia, watching our boys play lacrosse from across the field and inevitably laughing our asses off whenever either of them would look over to make a face at us and get tackled or hit with something from the field. Ah the simple pleasures, you know? As we both waited for Stiles and Scott, Lydia and I spread our various school textbooks out on the bench in front of us, in all about sixteen heavy books set open as we studied. When Coach finally blew his whistle with one ear shattering blow after another the boys ran to us, practically dripping in sweat. Stiles bound up the bleachers, skipping some of the steps and leaned down in front of me, waiting for a kiss. I didn't look up from my textbook, and neither did Lydia as she responded to the boys while hovering over her calculus homework.

“Nice try boys, but before you even think about going anywhere but a dog kennel, you need to take showers.” There were a few mumbled protests but again without looking up she shooed them with her hands. 

“Come on, off you go.” I giggled a little as they marched away in defeat, their cleats making a crunching sound when they reached the grass. 

Step three, finally to get home, only to have to go to a pack meeting. 

Like every other Friday the pack all met in Scotts living room, this time all agreeing to stay away from anything breakable. I promised Melissa I wouldn't let them destroy the house while she was out, and I keep my promises. At the moment there were no big problems. Though I still wince a little when I say it, it seems like everything in Beacon Hills is… normal. As weird as that sounds. But we still meet once a week, every week it becomes more of a group study/hangout than a real meeting, but spending time with our friends was more valuable than any solution we had come up with before. The only issue to discuss at this meeting was me. I wouldn't call it an issue exactly, but after finding out about my… species? People? Clan? I don't know what to call it, but after finding out about what I am, we still have almost no information about what that really means, for me or for them. 

“Liam, as much as I appreciate the input, I don’t think being a truth seeker literally means that I can cheat on multiple choice tests. Even if it did, morally I will tell you again, cheating is a bad thing, and also none of my classes use multiple choice.” 

They all tried their best to put Stiles and I at ease, telling us that in time we would figure it all out. But that was the thing, we didn't have time. We’re seniors just a few months from leaving this town for college, and once I leave I don't see myself flying across the country once a week just so that I can make sure I know the “truth” of Beacon Hills. The sun finally set and Stiles and I said our goodbyes, walking hand in hand out the jeep before heading to his house for the night. 

Step four, stay up until three in the morning looking for answers about what supernatural powers you have. yeah , I know, that one's a kicker. 

As soon as Stiles and I stepped foot in the door of his room we threw off our bags and changed into sweatpants. I took the flannel he gave to me this morning and placed it over my tank top as we stood in front of his clear board as if waiting for an idea to come to us by itself. The board was still blank, nothing there but a picture of me and Stiles together at the lookout in the woods. A little reminder that no matter what crazy ideas are thrown onto this board, we always have each other. We settled into our usual spots, Stiles standing and pacing in the middle of the room while I spread books and papers out over his bed, laying on my stomach and staring into the pages. 

Finally, Step five, wait for the full frustration to kick in, and then once it's there, find a cute boy to calm you down.

I was laying flat on my stomach with four books in front of me, two from school, two from Lydia on the supernatural. I was hoping that in between my AP calculus homework and my college physics textbook I could figure out something new about my identity. News flash, it wasn't working. I groaned at the words in front of me, frustrated that for some reason the letters were swimming in and out. I took the books (all four of them) and slammed them shut before throwing them aggressively onto the ground in front of Stile’s bed and then taking the papers and just tossing them onto the air without any thought of aim or purpose. Stiles stopped pacing and stood still in front of his board, which now had a few red squiggles here and there along with the photo and a horrible attempt at drawing a wolf. He turned slowly to me with a marker in his hands.

“You good?”

“Not really.” He nodded and walked over, sitting beside me on the edge of the bed and putting the marker down. While I was still lying on my stomach he placed a hand on my back and rubbed it slowly.

“baby, do you know what time it is right now?” I placed my head in my hands and responded. 

“No. Do I want to?” 

“No, but I'm going to tell you anyway. It's three in the morning.” I said nothing and just signed into my hands. Stiles ignored my angry sighs and continued. 

“Babe do you know what that means?” I shook my head. 

“Well first of all it means that you are probably exhausted, which is why you're getting so frustrated with yourself, but more importantly it means that we have two hours before that night time diner downtown closes.” I looked up fast. 

“Are you talking about the one with the pie, and the fries and the shakes.” He looked at me very seriously and nodded. Without another word I popped up on the bed and threw on a pair of crocs.

 “Stiles, no matter what I say in the mornings when you wake me up, I love you so much I think you might even be higher on my list than eating pie at three in the morning.” He gave me a broad smile and kissed me on the cheek. 

“Say no more, love.”

#teen wolf #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles #stiles stilinski #oneshot #dylan o'brien #reader insert

[amajikilvr]

hi! can you write a bnha sickfic for me? the scenario i want is; tamaki is sick with a stomach bug and gets sick during class time. his anxiety is at it's peak from gettin sick, but mirio is there to help him through it. thank you, if that wasn't too much to ask!

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under the weather - tamaki amajiki

word count 1.1k

contains graphic depictions of illness and vomiting, anxiety, crying, panic attack, comfort

characters included tamaki amajiki and mirio togata

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Amajiki had unwisely dismissed the queasy feeling stewing heavily in his stomach.

It’d been there when he’d rolled out of bed, but he didn’t let himself think too deeply about it and its implications. His anxiety had given him an ultimately harmless upset stomach an infinite amount of times in the past and because of that, he figured this was nothing new or anything to worry about.

He knew he was wrong about that claim from the moment that the idea of eating his usual hefty breakfast made him wrinkle his nose in disgust. Amajiki was someone who loved to eat and that paired well with the conditions of his quirk so he ate his food this morning as usual because it was his responsibility to do so.

His work-study, something he couldn’t even fathom doing with his gut constantly churning like this, was relying on his constantly varied diet and for him to show up after school…

Maybe it was nothing and his anxiety had just simply turned it into something. He had to believe that, had to believe it wasn’t sickness to blame.

He couldn’t be sick today. He couldn’t be sick, period.

Waiting for this first class to end is bad enough before his stomach suddenly gives a startling groan that’s both extremely audible and just as nauseating. Amajiki’s eyes go wide with embarrassment as he winces and waits for it to pass. Someone nearby had to have heard that over the teacher’s lecture.

The sounds don’t seem to be stopping any time soon either. The angry burbling noises continue mercilessly on as if the organ itself is yelling at him. He holds a shaky hand to his clammy forehead and tries his best to ignore the sudden pressure that’s building in his chest.

It starts with a loudish belch that Amajiki wasn’t prepared for, his ears fold over themselves and burn with intense shame when he receives several varying glances from the students around him. Some appear merely amused by his surprising outburst and some toss dirty looks his way.

There’s another. This burp is much queasier, wetter, and is stifled pathetically against the hand he slapped over his mouth after the first one. Something truly horrible burns his throat, insistent, and his stomach gives another drawn-out sickly gurgle.

An excess of saliva fills his mouth, rapidly pooling on the tongue that suddenly feels heavy, and he can taste the remnants of his breakfast with every single sour burp that leaks out of him. Reality hits him with a rush of despair.

He’s going to throw up.

The nausea is aggressively overwhelming, but Amajiki can manage to register that one thing he’d been denying, that one thing he’d been trying his best to push out of his mind this entire time. He still can’t get himself to move or do anything for that matter. He’s petrified, frozen in place at his desk.

He whines, low and fearful, before the first gag makes him jolt forward. His stomach clenches, bracing itself. The second one accomplishes nothing more than a final soggy belch and it’s the next violent retch that does it.

A torrent of thick vomit hits the hand that’s still over his mouth, a good portion of it spurting between his fingers and out from under his palm. It gushes down to his desk, half-digested chunks of his last meal splattering the front of his shirt.

“What the fuck?”

“Oh shit!”

“Ack!”

“Gross!”

The various surrounding cries of disgust are nothing more than faraway background noise as Amajiki sputters and coughs up more lumpy sick onto the tabletop. He lets out a wobbly sob when some of it squirts from his nose, burning like the abundance of tears stinging his eyes.

His head pounds like a drum and his stomach continues to ache even after expelling its ill contents. It’s an eternity of sitting there while trying to catch his breath and keep his cries subdued.

Nothing else seems to exist. It’s just him and his mess…

“Hey,” It’s Mirio. He clutches Amajiki’s trembling shoulder with a strong hand and doesn’t look nearly as repulsed as he should be. “It’s okay. Can you get up for me?”

“M’m really sick…” Amajiki mumbles, feeling dizzier by the second and head growing foggier in half of that time.

“I know, buddy.” He feels his shoulder being squeezed. His vision focuses somewhat, for better or worse. “Let’s get you out of here. Do you think you could walk if I helped you?”

Maybe it’s the pungent smell of his own vomit choking him or the stares from his classmates that pierce his skin like needles, but either way, Amajiki finds himself being led, practically dragged, by Mirio to the door.

They’ve nearly made it there when his stomach gives another urging twist and he whimpers as he swallows thickly. Amajiki tugs pressingly on Mirio’s shirt and he gets the message quickly, thankfully, pulling him over to the trash can at the front of the room.

Salty tears dribble down his flushed cheeks as he weakly spits up more liquidity puke on top of piles of pencil shavings and discarded papers. His shoulders shake forcefully from the effort of silently crying before Mirio places a palm on his back and moves his bangs away, effectively stilling some of the hysterical tremors running through him.

“You’re okay, you’re okay. Just let it all out, you’ll feel better, I promise. Keep breathing for me, Tamaki.”

Mirio’s soft comforting words guide him through the necessary actions that his body forces upon him. His stomach heaves for the last time, it’s beginning to really hurt from all of the throwing up, and soon he’s finished up and greeted by the fresh air of the hallway.

It’s a much appreciated change from the humid stench that had started to hang heavy in the classroom. He really does feel terrible about that and even worse for whoever’s tasked with cleaning the source. There’s one more emergency pitstop to the restroom on the way and they’ve made it to the nurse’s after what feels like a slow-moving century..

Now that he’s resting on a cot with a small bottle of Gatorade (and a clean shirt), his tummy still feeling upset and turbulent but somewhat calmed compared to before, Amajiki can’t help but let everything sink in and think about what really happened back there.

“Everyone saw me…” He mumbles miserably, rebirthed horror creeping in menacingly to join his lingering nausea. “Oh my god, it got everywhere… I don’t know why I didn’t move...”

“And? They’ll all forget about it by next week! Tomorrow even.” Mirio replies almost immediately from his nearby chair. So far, Recovery Girl hasn’t even questioned his presence.

“Messes can be cleaned!”

Amajiki voices his disagreement in the form of a single grunt and takes a very tentative sip of his drink. That acidic sick taste still remains in his mouth no matter how much he tries to rinse it out. His stomach grumbles a few times, almost passively.

“Aren’t you worried about catching this from me?” He says finally, disbelieving that he was actually lucky enough to have someone like Mirio with him through all of this.

“Maybe you just ate something bad.” Mirio retorts with an air of confidence that Amajiki can only dream of having. “Besides, best friends who share the flu together, stay together!”

“... You’re impossible.”

────────────────────────

#sickfic #🌡 #bnha sickfic #tamaki amajiki sickfic #bnha whump #whump

[oimoi-op]

when were you diagnosed with t1d?

Ok, so storytime! Short answer is, as of today, barely over two months ago. 

(Very long post warning y’all, contains hospital mention and extensive, possibly upsetting descriptions of health conditions, specifically DKA)

My family doesn’t really have a history of T1D or even T2D, though my second-cousin-once-removed has had T1D for over a decade now. So, there was never any reason for me to try and get tests done for it. The only sign I really had up until last semester was two copies of a variant of an HLA gene that I knew about from a 23andMe report (which, according to the report, put me at a higher risk for celiac’s and nothing else), but of course at that time I had no idea that that could mean anything serious; after all, that sort of thing only happens to other people, right?

My college started in-person classes in the latter half of August. By October, I started feeling tired, having a lack of appetite, and needing water very, very badly. I actually went to my school’s clinic, and my erratic heartbeat prompted the doctor to recommend me for a Covid-19 test. My school’s protocols meant that I had to quarantine at my home (since I live within two hours of campus) until I got a negative test result. At home, I was drinking water all the time and sleeping constantly, and my parents had commented on how I’d been losing weight. I thought these were all good things. I had been slightly overweight at my high school graduation, and I’d always heard that drinking a lot of water is good for you, so I thought I was actually in excellent health even if I kind of felt like shit most of the time.

Well. Uh. I was wrong.

When finals came around in mid-November, I was just fucking tired. I’d get a decent eight hours of sleep and still have to take naps during the day. Hell, I was even late for work because I slept through one of my nap alarms. Studying was a pain in the ass. Attending classes was a pain in the ass. Staying awake for Zoom classes was a pain in the ass. I was waking up at 5 am to go to the bathroom, and then I would drink the rest of my water, refill it, drink half of it again, and then go back to sleep. Finally, November 20th rolled around, and I got to leave campus. It was my birthday (yeah I am a Scorpio and that weirds all of my friends out lol), and my parents took me to Fusion. And I just...couldn’t eat at all? I love hibachi, but I couldn’t even eat half of my food. The chef even got me a delicious banana split that I had to basically bully my younger sister into eating with me.

For the next week, I was sleeping about 18 hours a day. I didn’t think this was weird because I’d just had finals so yeah, it makes sense that I would be tired after exams and whatnot. I went shopping with my mom, sister, and sister’s bff. We were only out for a few hours, but I was fucking wiped out y’all, like in pain. Thanksgiving arrived, and again, I love food, I love eating, but I was not hungry in the slightest. I basically had to force myself to eat some of my favorite holiday foods just so I wouldn’t offend my mom, and then I didn’t eat for the day.

The very next morning, I was puking my guts out.

This started a pattern for the next few days: I would eat chicken noodle soup or some other food, sleep like the dead, and throw up every morning and every night. I started chugging large bottles of Gatorade constantly (which, if you know about diabetes and its health complications, did not help my situation in the slightest). I started breathing erratically after very little exertion. Like, I’m talking standing up and stretching brought about heavy, labored breathing. I weighed myself on my parents’ scale, and I was under 130 lbs. Now, for some people this might seem like a lot, but due to my height and build I could fucking see some of my ribs. That was when I started to realize that something was very, very wrong, but “losing weight is good” and I didn’t want my parents to laugh at me for voicing concerns (though, for all their faults, in hindsight, I doubt they would’ve). Yeah. Don’t do that, folks, that’s not a good mindset to have. 

On Sunday, my mom took me to town to get tested for Covid. This was despite me saying that I didn’t have symptoms (which I knew very well due to some of my friends catching it at school). Rapid test came back negative, so I did a culture test. Hell, while I was sitting in the damn chair, I was about to pass out. I asked for a nausea pill but my mouth was too dry for it to dissolve. I got a cup of water, downed it all, and felt like my throat was on fire. For the rest of the day I felt so, so awful. At some point I was walking toward my bed in my room and I fucking fell. I’m fucking lucky there was carpet. 

Regarding the rest of that night, things start to get blurry, for the lack of a better term. I legitimately cannot recall everything that happened that night or the following two days, so I will just try to explain it in the way I remember it best.

Around...midnight or one??? I was on fucking fire, so I went to my bathroom and decided to lie on the floor. The floor was hardwood and not at all cold, and it wasn’t fucking comfortable even in that state, but I was just in so much pain I didn’t even care. My mom must’ve heard because she found me there and asked me what I was doing. I said something about the floor. She asked me to go back to bed, but I must’ve scared her because she asked me if I wanted her to lie in the bed with me. I don’t remember what I said to her, but we were in the bed and she was trying to hug me, but she was too warm and so I told her to stop. I kept feeling this burning just below my chest, like there was acid in me (which I guess wasn’t too far off), so I would randomly sit up to try and alleviate the pain and not cry. I remember asking my mom to take me to the hospital in the morning.

My mom put me in the truck (I think around 5 am is what she told me). I remembered hearing my dad. I was lying down. Then I was awake, but I was on the floor. I thought this was wrong so I tried to tell my mom that but I guess I couldn’t talk. Then I was in a hospital bed, the ER I assume. My mom gave me some water with a sponge, and I was just so fucking thirsty. Then I was in the ICU hooked up to a bunch of machines. I didn’t know what was going on, but my mom kept giving me water with that sponge. That is all I remember from Monday.

I remember a little bit more from Tuesday. My mom said something about diabetes, but that didn’t make any sense to me because I wasn’t “fat” and I’d been losing weight, even! What had I done to get diabetes? I was thirsty and tired, so I slept a lot. At some point I really needed to use the restroom so I unhooked my IV???? (I mean I must’ve disconnected myself somehow but I can’t remember the details) which set off a shit ton of alarms and people were Very Concerned and kept asking me Why Did You Do That? But I just needed to go to the restroom, and they told me to use the Red Button to Call the Nurse (it was already there, and I now realize that we’d probably had a similar conversation about the Red Button to Call the Nurse possibly multiple times before this) in the future. A Chopped Teen Tournament from 2017 was playing on the TV nonstop. There were commercials for CGMs. I thought that God wasn’t being very funny about the whole thing.

As of now I remember even less of Wednesday, but I know that felt better. There was this diabetes specialist who kept talking about insulin and life at college moving forward, but I wasn’t really there, either because of being so out of it for health reasons, disassociating, or a combination of the two. My mom told me she had emailed a professor so he would give me an extension on an assignment that was due by then, and I remember crying because I thought that was just so nice of him. That night, this guy got me in a wheelchair and put me in another room, which I would later learn was the ACU. My night nurse was this nice woman named Tanya, who had a very thick Eastern European accent. She got me orange juice to take some potassium pills, but it felt like swallowing rocks. I didn’t really get a lot of sleep, so I was awake when the nurses changed shifts. I remember one of them expressing surprise that I was out of the ICU so early.

My mom took longer to come that day because nobody had told her I’d been moved. I’d had plain Cheerios and orange juice for breakfast, but I couldn’t really eat because my throat hurt so badly. I talked to a lot of doctors. I guess at this point or somewhere near it I accepted that I had diabetes, but it wasn’t really real until the same diabetes specialist was going over carbs. I thought I was never going to eat shit I liked ever again. I really wanted a fucking McChicken sandwich. I signed some papers for Medicaid because I had aged out of the CHIP while in the hospital. I finally texted my friends and explained to them what had happened. I was so fucking tired.

I got out the next day, so that was Thursday. Normally, I would’ve been in the hospital much longer (especially because my Medicaid hadn’t been approved, meaning no insurance had approved of my insulin yet), but Covid cases were on the rise and the hospital wanted me out of there. The diabetes specialist and one of my nurses snuck me two fast-acting and two basal insulin pens, and I was out. I ate half a McChicken, a small fry, and drank my first Diet Coke. It tasted like diesel mixed with piss. 

That’s the gist of it. The hospital staff was very nice and thoughtful the entire time, I think. I felt as though everyone involved cared about my health a lot. 

For those of you who aren’t T1D or just don’t know, what I experienced is called DKA, short for diabetic ketoacidosis. To simplify, I was very close to entering a diabetic coma. My sister later told me that our dad had said (I assume a doctor had told my mother, who, in turn, had told him) that I was “approximately 45 minutes” away from death. DKA happens when a diabetic (usually a T1D like me) has too much blood sugar in their body due to them lacking the insulin necessary to break the sugar down, so their body breaks down their fat reserves and muscle to get the energy it needs. This is why I lost around 50 pounds over the course of a few months (I was 118 lbs. when I entered the hospital, the lowest I’ve been since grade school). I was officially diagnosed with T1D on November 30th, just ten days after my 19th birthday, which is a little older than normal I believe. It’s...well, it’s not fun, but I feel very grateful for my large support system, and tomorrow I’m trying out a CGM for the first time and applying for both it and a pump, so things are really looking up 

#personal #iamapincushion #t1d #type one diabetes #type one diabetic #dka #diabetic ketoacidosis #tw hospital #tw dka #i don't think you meant me for to respond with such a long answer #but #well #it's something i've been wanting to post for a while now and this seemed like a good opportunity

[apiratewhopines]

Killian, Persuaded

Chapter Nine - Speed with Secrecy

Summary: In which our hero spins his wheels

Chapter Nine on AO3

“And I will wait here awhile

Just long enough to be

Sure that you

Didn’t make a wrong turn”

-Wrong Turn, Jack Johnson

When you didn’t work, every day felt like the weekend. Even though he was now employed, his schedule was so light he may as well have not been working so the principle held.

However, that didn’t mean Killian was unfamiliar with the concept of waiting for the weekend, working for the weekend, Monday blues, and so on and so forth. Unfortunately, since he came to Storybrooke and tumbled head over heels for Emma again he found himself dreading this most sacred of times.

Especially this weekend.

The reasons were simple really. During the week, he had two chances to run into Emma every day since Henry joined them on their transit to and from school. But on the weekends it was a crapshoot honestly. If he was lucky, he spent hours of uninterrupted time with her while she visited her best friend and his nieces. Then some weekends he didn’t see hide nor hair of her. Those were the hardest times.

Especially this weekend.

Honestly, would it have killed her to pop over and let them know if she was engaged or not? Didn’t women normally want to gush or commiserate over their relationships? Surely she wasn’t so busy she couldn’t tell them what happened after she ran away from the man who wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Well, one of the men who wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Her boyfriend. Wanker extraordinaire. Maybe fiancé now.

Since he apparently lacked subtlety, he didn’t bother to conceal his interest in the comings and goings at their neighbor’s house from his family. They were wise to him anyway so what was the point. The absence of Walsh’s car was noted, and celebrated, when he walked the kids back from their Halloween dance. Since then, he hadn’t seen the man or his vehicle or Emma dragging an obnoxiously large diamond behind her when she left for work.

He kept reminding himself these were all good signs.

“Did you know one of your friends hit on her every time your back was turned?”

“Honestly, the only part that shocks me is there was only one who tried,” he replied, switching his focus away from the window to his sister-in-law. Elsa looked more rumpled than usual. Her long hair was down, perhaps for the first time since he moved in with them, and she was still in her pajamas despite the fact it was almost dinner time. She was sick most of the night with an upset stomach and the smell of eggs at breakfast that morning was enough to send her running to the bathroom all over again. She slept most of the day, leaving Liam to run the girls to all their practices.

When his brother asked him to stick around in case Elsa woke up and needed anything, he happily complied. All the better to scope out the neighborhood, or one neighbor as the case may be. Although his sister-in-law hadn’t left the bedroom, he brought her a cup of mint tea and a few crackers around lunchtime. The quiet of the house made him wonder how he had lived in his silent penthouse for so long.

She sank on the other end of the couch and stretched her legs out until her feet rested in his lap. “I feel terrible. Distract me before I puke again. Tell me a story.”

“A story? Darling, I only know tragedies. Perhaps we could play charades instead.”

Leaning her head back against the arm of the sofa, she watched him through narrowed eyes. She looked worse for wear, pale and weak from the unknown illness. Taking one of her feet between his hands, he began to massage her arch. Softly, she picked up on her earlier comment, “I think his name was Chipper.”

“Aye, that makes sense. He was a bastard.” Absentmindedly, he continued to knead her feet, alternating between the two until he thought she may have fallen asleep. When he glanced over to check, he found he was still the focus of her undivided attention.

“Tell me what happened. Why did you leave her?”

“Determined to hear a tragedy, then,” he remarked without humor. “Fine. How much has she told you?”

With a hint of a smile and a roll of her eyes, she joked, “You know Emma. Something along the lines of ‘There was a guy, I thought he was different, turns out he wasn’t.’”

“She’s always had a succinct way of getting to the heart of the matter,” he observed, staring at the wall and getting lost in the memory festering in his mind like a wound that wouldn’t heal. He wasn’t sure where to start. How do you relay the depths of heartache and broken trust that brought about the end of the happiest time of your life?

“It was fate when we met,” he murmured. “Of course, she said it was coincidence and no deeper meaning was at the root of it. We agreed to disagree. She was working a summer job at a dockside restaurant catering to tourists, not the rich kind summering there like me and my friends. It was a kitschy place complete with fake fish mounted on the walls and plastic sharks in their cocktails.”

“The kind of restaurant you normally would never have been caught dead in,” Elsa supplied.

“Too right. It was raining and I got turned around on my way to the yacht club. It had been a couple of years since I traveled to the US and honestly I was still having a hard time keeping to the right side of the road most days. I planned to duck in long enough to ask for directions when I saw her running out into the squall to fight down the patio umbrellas so they wouldn’t take off in the wind. She was wearing this awful Hawaiian shirt that was plastered to her like a second skin and I remember thinking she was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen.”

Her eyes drifted closed but she teased quietly, “Hawaiian shirts are a well known aphrodisiac.”

Laughing, he nodded. “I didn’t go a full day without seeing her after that. She led me on a merry chase. The competition was fierce, everyone looking for a summer romance to create memories they could take home as a souvenir and a woman like her was the object of many a wishful thought. It took me days to learn her name and weeks to get her number.”

“Poor thing. It must have been quite trying.”

“It was, thank you for noticing,” he said with mock sincerity. “Despite what you may think, or whatever barmy stories Robin may have shared with you, I had never pursued anyone before. When you’re young, filthy rich, and handsome, you don’t really have to work for anything. It usually falls in your lap. Everything changed when I met Emma.”

“Was it about the novelty then?”

“Maybe at first. Although I would be lying if I said attraction wasn’t the greater contributor. Even now, longing will punch me in the gut from time to time so I can’t say it wasn’t a factor then. It started as an amusement, quickly became a frustration, then morphed into a fascination I’m still not over. I’m not sure how long you’ve known Emma but she wasn’t always as open as she is now. She rarely smiled and when she did, it was usually a pretty imitation meant to appease or deflect someone. When I earned my first real one, I knew I was a goner.”

“How did you earn it?”

He hadn’t thought about it in a decade. Had made himself forget the beginning because it would inevitably lead him to the painful end. He shouldn’t have repressed it. The image of her looking up at him from the side of the road, dirt on her cheek and eyes flashing, was something to be cherished. “I let her change my flat tire.”

“How chivalrous of you…”

“I never said I was a catch. You asked for this story,” he reminded her. When Elsa flashed him an apologetic look, he continued. “It was the gateway to our first date. She didn’t think of it that way of course. I was strictly in the friend zone. But I have a tendency to grow on people and she was no different. I made her laugh and she made me feel. She was my best friend before she was anything else.”

“A best friend you wanted to see naked,” she accused with a snort.

“I’m sure you’ll find, in general, that is more common than you’d think.”

“Men,” she mumbled sleepily. “It doesn’t make any sense. If you were so close, how could you just leave?”

“I didn’t just leave.” He wished he didn’t have to skip over the middle and go straight to the end. For some reason, he wanted Elsa to know they had been happy. It didn’t last forever. Hell, it didn’t even last a second season, but it was more than a swift trip from lust to leaving. It was the deepest connection he ever experienced.

“We became serious more quickly than either of us could have imagined at the outset but we were still young. She wasn’t out of her teens and I had the emotional maturity of a toadstool. But I knew…I was determined she was the one. So I asked her to run away with me. To elope.”

“Wait a minute, so Walsh wasn’t the first guy to propose to her? I’m going to kill her. She never even hinted—“

“You’ll do no such thing.” He wasn’t surprised Emma never mentioned it, though he told everyone who would listen at the time. To his own detriment, as it turned out. After it ended, he doubted he had uttered her name once, much less given a detailed account of the rocky relationship. Until now. “It was a spontaneous thing. We were at a fair on one of the piers near her restaurant splitting a funnel cake and I knew I never wanted to be parted from her. So I tried to make sure I didn’t have to be.

“We agreed to meet after her shift the next night. I wanted to fly to Scotland but she didn’t have a passport. For that matter, I didn’t have a ring. It’s all a little surreal now. Seems like it happened in some cheesy movie I watched years ago rather than my own life. Only the movie hero wouldn’t have flaked at the last minute. It would have had a happy ending.”

Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for the worst bit. “My father found out somehow. I’m sure one of my friends told someone who told someone else until it reached his ears. He flew across the country and demanded I break it off. Said men like us were free to find our pleasures where we wanted but carrying on the family name was a responsibility that should only be shared with someone who could understand the importance of it. Not orphan waitresses who were in it for the money.”

He expected anger or disappointment from her. Instead, she whispered sadly, “You listened to him.”

“No, not at first, and never about Emma being in it for the money. I’m an idiot but I’m not blind. It wasn’t until he said he regretted marrying my mother and seeing how miserable she was in our world I started to doubt. I didn’t want to doom Emma to a lifetime of cuts and mistreatment from people who thought she was beneath them. I loved her but I knew too well it wasn’t going to be enough, had seen it play out with my own parents. I wouldn’t have been able to protect her completely and I couldn’t condemn her to my mother’s fate. She deserved better. They both did.”

Almost shyly, Elsa asked, “Liam never talks about your mother. What was she like?”

“A lot like you, honestly. Even the same profession. She was beautiful and gentle with a lion heart who never stopped fighting for the right things. Liam shouldn’t make her a stranger to you and the girls. She is worthy of being remembered.”

They both fell silent and he was mortified to feel the prick of tears. She switched positions, moving to lean against his side, so he wrapped an arm around her slender shoulders and relaxed into the embrace. He had never held a woman like this, the closest thing being in the final days of his mother’s life when she was too sick to sit up by herself. Shaking off the memory, he was glad Elsa didn’t feel like she was running a fever but he could tell there was something off about her.

“It was Emma’s decision what she deserved, Killian. You should have talked to her.”

With an exasperated tone at odds with the comfortable way they were huddled together, he blurted out, “Thank you, Captain Obvious. I realized my mistake about ten minutes after it was too late. But I wasn’t thinking clearly then. I didn’t have the strength to face her. I knew my resolve would cave if she put up even a token resistance. I’ve always been a selfish man and I took the easy way out. I walked away without a word because it was less painful for me.”

He shuddered to think about it now, how he did the one thing he repeatedly promised Emma he would never do. “It was the worst kind of betrayal. I knew everything about her past, every broken promise and abandonment, yet I still walked away. The fact she will speak to me at all is a bloody miracle.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to wallow in misery, love her from afar and hope Walsh chokes on his own table legs.” It was a sound plan. He had already put it into motion and was getting exactly the results one would expect.

She chuckled softly then groaned. “Don’t make me laugh, it makes the nausea worse.”

“C’mon love, I have some experience with making women nauseous. I think some ginger ale and dry toast will have you feeling better in no time.”

—

“You truly think she said yes to such a bumbling proposal?”

Nursing his drink, Killian wondered why his friend looked so amused at his distress. He’d never been cruel in the past but the way he shook his head and smiled ruefully across the table carried an air of superiority out of place for the conversation. “I don’t know, Robin. But if not him, it will eventually be someone else.”

“They really did a number on you, mate.”

“In their defense, I don’t think I can take their relationship as a personal affront. Emma was dating him for a year before I came back into her life.”

“Not Emma and Walsh. Your sorry excuse for a father and ex-fiancée.” He stilled under Robin’s direct stare. They hadn’t talked about the situation beyond the barest of mentions since his friend arrived. He couldn’t say he was particularly interested in talking about it now either. Picking up his glass and gesturing toward him with a sense of bewilderment, Robin continued, “Where is the famous Killian Jones confidence? Why are you standing idly by? Emma is a woman worth fighting for but you refuse to even toss your hat in the ring.”

“You don’t know our history. I had my chance and I blew it.”

“Are you mad? I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Whatever the history, it is far from being buried and in the past. If you messed up that badly, this is your opportunity to make a brand new ending…a happy one this time. Don’t waste it. Apologize, tell her how you feel, show her you’ve changed. Faint heart never won fair lady.”

Rolling his eyes, he was about to correct his friend’s misconceptions when a figure stopped at their booth. The barely concealed dislike he felt oozing out of their visitor gave him an inkling of who it was before he looked over and saw the perfectly coiffed raven hair.

“Mr. Jones, a moment please?”

Sighing, he debated whether resistance would do any good. He had obviously lost his mojo and was at the mercy of the fates now. “Principal Mills, I’m in the middle of something. Perhaps we can have another tête-à-tête in your office tomorrow.”

Sliding into the booth next to Robin, who hurriedly shuffled to the side to avoid having a tightly wound woman in his lap, she said, “Now works better for me.”

“Then by all means, don’t let us inconvenience you,” Killian muttered under his breath. To his horror, Robin was grinning at the woman like she was a new shiny toy he couldn’t wait to play with. “Principal Mills, this is my friend Robin Locksley. Robin, meet Regina Mills, the bane of my existence.”

“Forgive him, Ms. Mills, he’s always been a surly drunk. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

With a slow smile, Regina made no effort to hide her thorough perusal of the man who shared the vinyl bench. Extending her hand gracefully, she spoke in a breathless voice dripping with raw interest. “Yes, I believe it may end up being a pleasure.”

Clearing his throat to break the tension, although he would be hard-pressed to say if he was more amused or disgusted by it, Killian watched them jump apart as if he had doused them with cold water. “What do you want?”

“I heard you’re building a website for Granny’s Diner.”

“You heard wrong. I only negotiated a deal to build a website. My brother is actually developing it. Have a nice night.”

“Killian, mind your manners.” Robin’s eyes were pleading with him to behave, probably in some misguided effort to impress their third wheel. Knowing he would regret it, he leaned back and waited for the other shoe to drop.

“Thank you. It’s refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t underestimate how appealing civility can be.” As she turned back to Killian, he was amazed at her ability to insult him while simultaneously flirting with Robin. “I want to hire you to redesign the school’s website. I have several ideas for increased functionality and a detailed vision for the overall look and feel. You can drop by tomorrow to get the information from Mrs. Nolan.”

Standing up to leave without waiting for his response, she added, “Whatever Mrs. Lucas is paying you, I’ll only agree to half since I’ve done most of the work already. Good evening.”

With that, she swept away regally.

“Where have you been hiding her? She’s enchanting,” Robin murmured after polishing off his drink. His eyes were still on the door as if hoping to catch one more glimpse of her.

“Hiding her? She probably crawls back to her lair when the sun comes out to avoid being turned to dust. Trust me, you don’t want that kind of trouble in your life.”

“She is exactly the kind of trouble I want.”

“Whatever, mate. It’s your funeral. Just remember to pack some garlic and maybe a crucifix or two on the first date.”

—

He took his time walking home that night. After they finished dinner, simple fare prepared by Granny Lucas herself with the help of Roland who had taken quite a shine to the older woman, there wasn’t much more to say. Robin seemed determined to ruin his life with the forceful brunette who had a knack for pissing him off and he was just as determined to be miserable over the unsettled state of affairs with Emma.

The most disturbing thought of all was perhaps it was already settled but he didn’t know. That there was nothing he could do but spend a lifetime regretting it.

Reaching the house, he stopped on the porch. He could hear the girls running around wild inside and while he had missed them this weekend as they went about their packed schedules and prior commitments, he was going to need a minute to regroup and put on a happy face. They didn’t deserve the brunt of his gloom and doom attitude.

“Killian.”

Her voice was quiet and so longed for that at first he thought he imagined it. It wasn’t until he saw her hesitate on the step he allowed himself to believe she was actually there. “I’m glad you’re here, love. I’ve been worried about you.”

It was the truth, although not the whole truth. He was as worried about her answer to the question hanging over his head like a knife.

“I’d like to…that is, I’ve been thinking.”

She was agitated. He could tell by the halting meter of her words and how she hadn’t met his eyes once since she arrived. His gut twisted in preparation for hearing the unwelcome news she would be lost to him forever. “Nothing wrong with that, Emma. It would seem you have a lot to consider.”

“Right. Can I just…” Her voice trailed off and she froze in front of him, her entire body tense. He wondered if it was as hard for her to tell him as it was for him to hear it. Somehow, he doubted it.

“It’s fine, love. Say whatever you need to say.”

She gave a huff of frustration and he thought he heard her mutter something and the next thing he knew, she grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him to her. Before he could draw a breath, and heaven knew he needed one because he was pretty sure shock knocked all the air out of his lungs, her lips were on his and then he moved on pure instinct.

He had dreamed of this moment for ten years. At times he wasn’t sure if it was a fantasy or a haunting. The memory of her body against his, the way her fingers would comb through his hair, the rush of emotion that flooded him when she looked at him with desire nearly matching his own, it was painful to endure knowing he would never experience it again.

But to experience it again. Well, it was a different kind of pain. The piercing combination of love and lust threatened to make his knees buckle. Wrapping her tightly in his embrace, his right hand wound in her hair and his left moving to cradle her face, he kissed her with the pent-up emotion of a man who had been banished from the promised land only to be allowed a brief return.

Robin was right, only an idiot would waste this opportunity.

The kiss deepened and he advanced them slowly until her back pressed against the wall of the porch. He couldn’t get enough of her. His lips caressing hers in a way achingly familiar and yet excitingly different. The years had added experience for them both but the underlying emotion was the same as always. Her hands were in his hair, a little moan he felt before he heard it escaping her mouth.

Without realizing what he was doing, his hand drifted down her leg, gently lifting it against his hip and rocking into a closer position. Blood thundered in his ears and he was fairly certain his heart was going to explode in his chest. In all honesty, that wasn’t the only thing on the verge of exploding.

Suddenly, the high-pitched giggle of one of the girls broke through the night and burst the heated bubble surrounding them. With a shaky breath, Killian pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. His hand still held her leg in place against him, the fingers of his other tracing the silky skin of her cheek. “I’m not complaining, love, but what are you doing?”

“Thinking,” she murmured, her hands dropping to his shoulders and lowering her leg to the ground but otherwise remaining pinned against him. She watched him with hungry eyes and he knew this was everything he wanted in life. He would have to tread carefully or risk losing her again. Not that he was entirely sure he had her now.

Smiling softly, he pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “An important woman like you must have many things on her mind. Perhaps it would help if you thought about them some more.”

He kissed her tenderly, allowing himself to savor the feeling of being close to her. Unhurriedly, he brushed his lips across her forehead and pulled her to him in an embrace somehow more intimate than the near ravishing that had just occurred. Her head fit perfectly under his chin, her arms wrapped securely around his waist as if she too was afraid of falling.

“Why did you have to come back? I was happy. I could have been happy.”

“Darling, I’m sorry. For so many things. I would leave tomorrow if you asked me to…I’d do anything for you. I know I don’t have any right to comment on your life but despite my admittedly vested interest in the situation, I only want your happiness. You won’t find it with Walsh.”

“I could have. You ruined it.”

He grinned into her hair at her stubbornness. He loved how the fighter in her was never dampened, never repressed. “Blame me all you want as long as you tell him no.”

She pulled away and swallowed hard, clearly trying to come to terms with what happened between them and visibly retreating behind her walls.“I already have. He wants me to take some time to reconsider.”

“Trust your instincts, love. They are impeccable.”

“He’s a good man, Killian. He would never hurt me. He would make sure Henry and I have a good home. It should be enough.” Her voice filled with frustration and maybe some anger. Knowing her like he did, he knew she was regretting the impulsive act that led to this conversation.

“It won’t be. The emptiness of a mismatched relationship will consume you until you don’t recognize your own reflection. Don’t do that to yourself, Emma.”

“We’re taking a break. We’re going to meet at Thanksgiving and talk it out. So this,” she said gesturing between them with a hand that shook, “whatever this was, can’t happen again. I’m sorry I gave into the impulse. I’m not sure what came over me. It was a one time thing, got it?”

It scared him how quickly she was slipping away but a pesky hope rooted in him and he refused to cede the ground he had won. He needed to earn her trust and her love. It wouldn’t be easy but the idea invigorated him. “Whatever your heart desires but I’m not going anywhere. When I win your heart back Emma, and I will win it, it won’t be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me in your life as badly as I want you in mine.”

His hat was officially in the ring and nothing was going to stop him.



[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Time of Everyone’s Life (Favored Ones, Part 11.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Part Summary: You weren’t happy that Eugene, your friend, had passed away. But he was quite old, to be honest and he died of heart attack. And since you knew he wouldn’t be glad to see you being all sad about this, you decided to respect the man in the best way possible. 

A/N: Honestly, I love Eugene. The time in his hut was the best spent time of the whole fucking game. 

Warnings: Side characted death, sexual innuendos, drug usage - weed, to be specific. Almost everyone being high as a kite in this chapter. Also, for some, it could be extremely disrespectful to talk about someone they do talk about the passed away person - but he was truly a living, breathing legend.

Word count: 5 K

Tagging:  @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme​​ @peakymarvels​​ @davnwillcome​ @pickleriiick​ @jodiereedus22​ @gladiosamicitias​ @tamkashi​ @eternallyvenus​ @avengerssstuff​ @fangirl-inthe-us​ @avery-miller​ @mikah-writes​ @mad-hatter-98​ @sadiaafrin99​

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS

The winter of 2037, three months before the incident:

It was a fucking funeral. You shouldn't be cracking up during the last farewell Ellie was reading from that piece of paper. Well, technically, you should be cracking up - but with tears and not with laughter. You had to keep the cool face. You and Dina were standing next to each other with a huge grin as you both fought the urge to cry with laughter again.

You were sure that Eugene would be happy to see you smiling like two dickheads at his funeral. This seventy-year-old dude was acting more like a teenager then you ever did. He was the biggest crackhead in Jackson and your friend as well. The dude constantly smelled like a weed since he was blowing that shit almost every other day, sometimes telling you to come along.

Any of you got to know where Eugene had his cache, but he always had weed on him. And man oh man, his weed was some fucking good stuff. And the crackhead jokes he had? Jesus. He always had you and Dina in total tears.

Maria was looking at you and Dina cracking up throughout the whole ceremony, but she didn't tell you to behave since she knew Eugene way too well. It was refreshing to see someone cry with laughter and happy memories at a funeral instead of the typical rivers of sad tears.

You and Dina told something way before Ellie. When you met Dina on that morning, she wasn't even surprised to find you on your sweatpants, obviously just woken up, on the other side of the town. She was too sad to realize.

But when you gathered around the breakfast, talking about Eugene, the sadness turned to fondness. You opened up and drank the wine she got you, drinking it in a record ten minutes. That was when you started to tell stories about Eugene - like the time he got so high he pretended he's a mermaid while swimming in a near lake. Or teach you how to start a fire while being stoned as fuck, accidentally lighting it up.

So that was why you were dying at the ceremony, cracking up all the time.

As it usually is, Eugene left a last will behind, which included most of his crackhead friends - including you, Dina, and Ellie. Jesse took the role of the man who was giving people the stuff he left them since it was obvious that Eugene could leave any random thing behind.

"So, first, we have Ellie here." - Jesse read from the will. She stood up immediately, earning warm applause from you and Dina. You loved Eugene so much. No matter that he was three times as old as you were, he still was your great friend. That was how you wanted to remember him as well. As a good friend and the funniest person, you've met. - "Give the girl my... Fun time magazines since she enjoys naked girls just like I do." - Jesse read, having you and Dina cracking up again. This was so Eugene. Just like Jesse read, the girl was given a huge stock of well preserved Playboy and Maxim magazines. The expression on her face was hilarious because she didn't know what to do with the shit. That motherfucker had thought his last will through really well.

"Then, there's Dina." - Jesse read when Ellie sat down with her new magazines, having a grin on her face. - "To this babe, I give my lucky lighter to light shit up no matter how windy it would be." - Jesse took out the lighter with his initials carved into it, having Dina smile in the sweetest way you've seen. The lighter meant a lot to Eugene. And you both knew that. But before you had another chance to cry, with melancholy this time, Jesse announced your name.

"And last, but not least, there's my bitch, Y/N." - With that, you stood up and bowed, having the girls whistle and clap for you. Eugene always called you bitch ever since you and Ellie called each other bitch when you got high. The conversation consisted of the word bitch for two hours in a row. - "Tell her, that her ass looks splendid and give that bitch my last joints. Also, tell her to give the other assholes the time of their lives." - Jesse read and gave you a huge glass full of joints, which you proudly rose above your head. All of these gifts... Were just small trinkets to remind you of the man, but nothing felt more like that man. It would be weird if he'd leave actual presents or valuables behind.

"Man, I love the dude so much." - Ellie whispered when she was going through the magazines. Suddenly, her interest peaked and she was now taking in every naked woman with a gourmand grin. So, naturally, you leaned in and started to look at them as well. Dina, being the sweetheart she was, laid on your thighs to join into the activity.

"Why are they so fucking oily?" - "Could they even walk with these watermelons?" - "Why did Eugene have so much of them?" - Those were just a few questions that Jesse heard throughout the whole evening. You decided to go to a barn near Jackson, to sneak out and smoke some of these joints out there, sending a real last farewell to the man. So, there you were, sneaking out after midnight, laughing like high school girls. You've taken even Diego with you for one specific reason.

"Listen, man, I'm sorry for what happened yesterday." - A whisper came out of your lips as you walked to the barn through the snowdrifts. Ellie was carrying Dina on her back while Jesse was looking at them with an unreadable expression. But he was still smiling so he wasn't pissed - which was great. - "I was drunk and I was just puking when you stormed in..." - You mumbled, really feeling terrible at that moment. Sure, Joel was giving you the ride of your life at that moment, but that didn't grant you a right to act like a total moron. Diego looked at you, searching for any sign of sarcasm or irony... But you were serious with the boy.

"There are always two sides to blame, Y/N. I shouldn't have been pushing you so hard into liking me when I knew you don't want it. I acted like a douchebag." - Diego stopped, offering you a handshake. Instead of that, you hugged him as a true friend.

"I mean, any girl would be lucky to have a boy like you by her side, but... I think I like someone. I'm not sure if it'd lead somewhere... But I want to try it." - Did you think that you like someone? You knew you were all over Joel. The man was bringing you chills with every praise he told you, with each daring smile and you loved it when you could see the small shine in his eyes. Diego seemed to be taken away with your confession. The boy opened up his lips with surprise, watching you before he chuckled.

"I think any boy would be lucky to have you by his side... Or did you joined Ellie's team?" - Oh, dear Lord, Diego wasn't holding back with his teasing that night. Which, at least, meant that you're good. You chuckled, looking at Dina falling into the snow, dragging Ellie along. Ellie was screaming something about bitches and freezing while Dina was hysterically laughing - soon after, Ellie shoved a fistful of snow into Dina's face, making the girl open up her mouth before she started laughing once again.

"Well, I think about joining team Ellie from time to time, but then I see stuff like this and I realize I'm good with boys." - You answered as a joke, watching the girls having the time of their lives, acting like two kids. Diego nodded, obviously thinking about your secret someone. - "I'm not telling, don't even bother asking." - You sighed, looking at the barn appearing in the distance. It was comfy - you made it comfortable throughout the years you kept coming there. There was a big fireplace, comfy couches, warm blankets, and some water and food if you'd be hungry. And, of course, an ultra-old stereo which Eugene somehow brought to live and his cassettes. When everyone was comfy enough, you stood up and clapped a few times to make the others look at you.

"Welcome to the ceremony of us giving our last respect to the man, the legend and the myth, Eugene Linden. Many of you knew him as the crackhead, which is the title he rightfully owned and of which, may I mention, he was proud. I wish to talk about my happiness regarding this man's peaceful death. I wish you to die the same way - old, happy, stoned as fuck and without pain." - Everyone was grinning the whole time you were talking. It could seem extremely rude to talk about someone who had just passed away in such a way, but everyone in the barn knew Eugene would've loved that. He would most probably be the one who'd laugh the loudest. - "And as the last farewell, I would like to play his 90s' tape, starting with the title song Macarena." - You bowed, earning small applause as you walked to the stereo, turning the music on. You chatted for a while, having Ellie reading you some particular articles about pleasing a woman from the Maxim magazines she got, having each of you rolling there in tears even before you opened the last stash Eugene left you.  

Since you were the one given the stash, you had the right to light up the first joint of the whole night. Dina had landed you the lighter she was given to light it up. With a serious look to everyone, you rose it up like glass, toasting to Eugene. - "To Eugene." - Each of you said before you sat down next to Ellie and lit the bad boy up. And it could be felt that it's one of Eugene's babies straight off the bat. It had you inhaling deeply, holding it in your lungs before you breathed out and passed it to Ellie.

For a small moment, there was silence as each of you thought about Eugene on your own. You were thinking about the time you befriended the old-timer. It was a summer day and you've seen him carrying some heavy stuff to the gates, so you asked the guards to let you out. It was just a week after you and Eve had arrived, you hadn't even known Ellie and Dina at the time. The old man was in Jackson from time to time, but it was evident he's residing somewhere else. When he saw you approaching, he was weirded out since he had never seen you in Jackson before - that was when you first realized he's stoned. The lapses before answering you were turning him in, just like his read eyes and slow reaction time. But he was a funny and sympathetic person to be around.

The first time he offered you to try some of his bad boys came shortly after Dina and Jesse started dating. Sure, you were just kids at the time, but the man wasn't the most responsible around and you were just a stupid bunch of kids who wanted to try some forbidden stuff. That time was also the first time you've ever visited the barn.

And how could you forget that you and Ellie had puked the trees standing in front of it so bad that it smelled there like vomit for weeks? Suddenly, Ellie's elbow hit your ribs and that was when you realized you had been crying for a while. Quickly, she helped you wipe the tears off before cuddling you to her chest. The world seemed to be so peaceful when you were high - so slow, without complications. Also, Ellie felt so warm when the cuddled you, played with your hair, and kissed your forehead from time to time. The songs seemed to play utterly slow, but you didn't care about that.

"I miss him too." - Ellie whispered after a while, having at least minute lapses between the words. Sure, you could be all funny around the whole dying thing, and you were sure that he'd love you to be joyful because he lived the was lived and he had done the things he has done, but you knew you'll miss him. Sure, it wasn't grief for a loved one, just the way you were grieving for Eve, but no-one had grosser jokes than Eugene. He wasn't your dude for serious conversations, but he was the one who could turn your day around. He was probably even masturbating when the stroke got him. Eugene never took a single shit seriously and the whole world could just fuck itself because Eugene wasn't backing off.

"I know, dude." - Dina answered to Ellie's thought a good few minutes later. - "Eugene was fucking dope, man. He saved my ass so many times... Especially on the patrols." - Oh, that was right. Dina was Eugene's patrol partner from time to time. It depended if the man felt to be a citizen of the settlement or not. Suddenly, with a burst of energy, Diego got on his knees looking at everyone.

"You up for a snowball fight?" - He asked seriously.

Honestly, it was one of the best nights you've ever lived through. All of you were laughing like a bunch of crackheads, which you were and all of you were soaking wet and freezing when you were coming back to Jackson, which was fairly reasonable when you had a three-hours lasting snowball fight with small stops for another joint. The only flaw about these bad boys was that the euphoria never lasted too long. It gave you about twenty minutes of feeling invincible, with some range after that, of course, and that was it. Sure, you felt tired, but when you got through this stage, you were more or less sober again. Everyone watched as you walked in a different direction than your house was - but they let you go. You were walking in the direction of the cemetery, so they assumed you're off to another chat with Eve.  

But five minutes later, you were knocking on Joel's door, hoping the man would answer. It took you about ten minutes of knocking, but the lights in the house slowly turned on as you heard the heavy, sleepy footsteps. When Joel opened up, all he could see was your freezing cheeks and nose, a big smile, and completely wet clothes. And you smelled just like Eugene. The man sighed at your grin, massaging the bridge of his nose.

"Do you realize how late it is?" - A grunt came out of lips, making you smile at the man. - "More or less. You let me in or should I fucking freeze to death?" - You asked with a giggle. Great, so you weren't only smelling like Eugene, you were also at least half the high as he always was. Joel stepped from the door with defeated, closing the door behind you.

"Straight to the shower, don't even stop here." - A yawn sounded through the kitchen when you put your jar with the last joint on the countertop. At the moment, you found Joel utterly cute - it could be heard and seen he had just got up from his bed. He had that messy hair, small eyes, and a proper grumpy face. - "Will you join me?"

"You're big enough to do it on your own." - The man dismissed you. It was his loss that he didn't want to join you - so you took a hot shower just to warm up a bit, walking out of the bathroom completely naked with a towel on your wet hair as you automatically went to dress into one of his t-shirts. Mr. Grumpy was laying on the bed, reading some book, and drinking coffee from his mug, while you had your tea ready on the other nightstand. Happily, you ran downstairs to come back with the last joint between your fingers. Joel first just glanced at you before he realized what you're holding. That grin... He knew he wouldn't like what you'll come up with.

"Are you serious?" - The man lowered his glasses and put the book down. - "You wake up at damn two in the mornin', smellin' like a weed growing room and now you're... Damn Christ, you're irresponsible at times." - Joel wasn't exactly pissed - sure, he was grumpy and not glad you woke him as early as you did, but he still tried his hardest to be nice to you. You didn't answer a single word to any of the accusations - you just walked to the bed, climbed in, and kissed the man. You knew what he was into - so you were grinning when you heard the approving grunt as your fingertips brushed his neck and shoulders.

"We have to talk. And this is a great opportunity. Especially when we lose it up a bit." - A whisper made him realized that you leaned off again - "Don't tell me you've never smoked weed before." - Joel didn't answer it off the bat, but he leaned his elbows to the bed, sighing - which was an obvious sign he had smoked pot before.

"To clear everythin' up, it was at a college party and I was twenty at the time." - The man smirked at the memory, watching you settling on his lap. Your grin at the word 'college' made him clear even more stuff up. - "I wasn't studying there, but I enjoyed myself hella lot there. Jesus, you'd love college parties." - Joel smiled, even more, leaning into the frame of his bed while making sure you follow him. When you sat down again, his palms started to draw small circles on your thighs. Sure, you were right. There was stuff both you and he had to talk about. Like him calling you baby girl. And the obvious feelings you had for him. Joel was aware of you liking him with every look you gave him. Thereš was this endless adoration - which, sure, made him flattered just as it made him worried. And losing the things up a bit was a good idea.

"You'll kill me one day, you know that, rite, baby girl?" - Joel smirked in the end, informing you that you succeeded in your persuasion. Before settling down to smoke the pot, you agreed to have some scrambled eggs, saving some for later. Then you withdrew the curtains in his room, closing the door and securing it enough for the smoke to stay in the bedroom only. You also made sure the window is open so it wouldn't smell like Eugene in Joel's bedroom.

"So, start talkin'." - Joel encouraged you, taking the joint from you. Jesus, he was too old for shit like this. He'll probably throw up after that. And that bad boy overwhelmed him for a second so much that he made a funny face, making you laugh. After a while, you gathered yourself and sat up to look him in the face.

"Let's just admit... Just hypothetically, okay? That this isn't more a thing where strings aren't attached, hm?" - You rose your eyebrow and played with the hem of his briefs. You watched Joel breathe out the smoke slowly, looking at you. Sure, it didn't exactly love what you two had going on, but there were some feelings in the air. That was undeniable. Joel grew fonder of you every time you came to see him and spend the night. Things in his house felt quiet and impersonal when you weren't there. Playing the guitar wasn't feeling the same as when he was playing it because you wanted him to. And he'd never sing to anyone just because they wanted to.

It wasn't exactly love he was feeling for you, no matter from which point of view Joel approached it. The man didn't know how you were feeling about him... But he liked you. And that was something big when it came to Joel Miller. - "I think that is somethin' rite to say. But..." - "Don't think too much about that, I know." - You sighed. There was a warm feeling inside of you which you weren't able to stop. So there were some strings attached between your two. Sure, you'd love to hear Joel say something I like you without bringing your hopes down immediately after that. But that was just the way Joel was.

"You know, it ain't the easiest for me, baby girl. I ain't a good man at all, you know? You may be thinkin' I am, but trust me, I ain't." - Oh, so weed was making Mr. Grumpy talk about his feelings. As you nodded, he passed you the joint back, watching you smoking it with grace. He sat up more straight as he searched for the right words. - "I've done some terrible things and if you'd hear them, you'd most likely get up and never come back again. I was survivin' for a damn long time. I've seen my friends end up dead. I've hurt many people. I've done stuff only the worst people do, you hear me?" - The man looked at you. All of these things were on his mind at the very moment, the weed made him re-live every moment he spoke of. Slowly, you nodded and passed him the joint back.

"I was a Firefly. Earlier. Back in Salt Lake. I was... In training when I overheard one of Marlene's conversations with someone." - You were nervous to talk about that. You knew that Tommy is a former Firefly and from what you've heard about Joel you knew that he doesn't like Fireflies at all. Yet the man was waiting for what you had to say, his eyes slowly slipping to your fingers around the hem of his briefs. - "My unit was named Spring. You know? They were probably just running out of names or what... But she told the guy that she's planning to send us to do another assassination. The attacks where they gave the squad some bombs and let them kill innocent people. And when the guy asked her if she's aware of killing all of us at the mission, she scoffed and asked him 'And?'. That was the final red flag. I knew I had to leave... So one stormy night, I sneaked out and ran. I just ran." - It most probably wasn't the right thing to say at the moment, but you felt that you had to tell him. Joel nodded and zoned out for a second before he gave you the joint again. One of his palms covered your thigh as he started to smooth it slowly.

"And what about your parents, you knew 'em?" - Joel whispered. Oh shoot, that was a killer question. Quickly, you pulled another smoke in, moving your palm on his.

"I did. Shortly, but I did know them, yeah. My mom was this nurse who took care of the people who were hurt and my dad? I don't even know what he was doing, I just remember pieces of his face." - A small smile appeared on your face as you memorized their faces, thinking about them after a long time. Ever since you met Eve, you weren't thinking of them. Because of what happened to them. Yet Joel made you visit the memories again. - "I don't really wanna talk about it." - You whispered, tears already slipping down on your face. Joel slowly nodded and got up, fetching the guitar to play you something.

"Sarah. That was my girl. She is my girl. And she listened to this big... Variety of music genres. She sometimes listened to this awful pop bands, sometimes I didn't hear anything but rock, but damn, that girl loved Elliott Smith. She got it after her handsome dad." - Joel looked at you from tuning the strings, having a wicked grin on her. You wiped your face clean again, nodding. You didn't know if it was because you were stoned as fuck, but when he started playing the melody, you lost yourself in it. You've zoned out, watching the string vibrating as he played, his fingers holding the right chords. How could he even play at that point? He should be zoned out and laughing. All you knew was that the song made you cry again just because of how beautiful it was. Joel was performing while thinking about Sarah, which could be felt through the tenderness of his words. He was in pain because of the thoughts haunting his mind, sure, but he could overcome it.

"Drink up one more time and I'll make you mine. Keep you apart, deep in my heart, separate from the rest, where I like you the best. And keep the things you forgot." - The man whispered, looking at you with a small smile, coming back for one last chorus. - "People you've been before that you don't want around anymore. That push and shove and won't bend to your will... I'll keep them still." - The last pull on the strings made you realize the song was over, but you couldn't stop crying. So Joel put the guitar away, took the joint out of your fingers to finish it, and then pulled you down to lay on his chest. You were a whining mess.

The memories you've never thought you had were popping up in your head. Your mom smiling while picking chamomile for her patients, promising you a crown from dandelions when you'll be done. Dad carrying you on his shoulders, singing some dumb kid song with you. The blood on the wall behind them, the moment when your heart stopped beating. Marlene dragging you from the place, screaming at you because you've sneaked out from your bed and saw something you shouldn't see.

Joel was quiet the whole time you were crying to his t-shirt, rubbing slow circles on your back while giving you tissue after tissue. When you stopped crying, the man sighed and looked down on you. - "Are you good, baby girl?" - Of course, you weren't good. But all you did was that you pulled him closer, kissing him tenderly. You laid there for almost half an hour, stealing kisses from each other before your eyes suddenly shut.

The following morning was the worst. The room was cold because neither of you cared enough to close the window, your head hurt like a son of a bitch, Joel was snorting and laying on you, pushing you down to the mattress. But what woke you up? Someone coming up the stairs. You panicked, jumped out of the bed and sneaked to the bathroom, closing the door silently. Jesus. You hoped you didn't leave your stuff somewhere where that someone could see them. The blood froze in your veins when you heard Dina's voice.

"Joel?" - She called out and knocked on the bedroom door. You put both your hands over your mouth, hearing Joel waking up as well. The heavy footsteps immediately went to open the door. Dina chuckled nervously, but you didn't know what that was about. - "Jesus, man, you have some cold here. Tommy sent me here, he wants to talk to you about the east perimeter and you didn't show up in the morning... So..." - She explained nervously. You almost wondered how it came that Dina didn't ask about his love life.

"Oh, Jesus. I've slept in a bit, kiddo. Thanks for wakin' me up." - Joel mumbled back, yawning in the process.

"Sure, no problem." - Dina said and you heard the wood cracking under her legs. - "I'll go tell Tommy, okay?" - She asked and then, she was off. Jesus, that was close. Slowly, you walked out of the bathroom, sticking your head our first to see if she's gone for real.

You said a pretty hasty goodbye, promising each other to hang out that evening again. You took the route B around Jackson so it wouldn't be as suspicious. That day, Ellie and you were finally cleaning up the mess in your workshop, painting the walls white again. The music was blasting through the whole neighborhood, making the old neighbor pretty pissed once again, but you couldn't care less as you both moved in the rhythm, made faces, and showed off your dancing skills... Which weren't particularly good either.

Sometime later, Dina suddenly rushed in, bringing you some lunch. She was bringing some big news - so you placed a blanket on the ground, sitting down to eat. - "So... I was at Joel's today, in the morning..." - She started, looking at both of you with expectations in her face. While Ellie just nodded regularly, you almost showed the utter terror that had risen inside of you. Ellie asked her what the fuck she was there, but Dina ignored her. - "And he had someone over. I'm sure of that."

"Why do you think so?" - You asked, grinning at her confidence.

"For starters, I don't think Joel secretly wears black panties, so why would he have them on the floor in his room? Then, there were two mugs on his nightstand and... I heard someone in the bathroom." - Dina rose her eyebrows. Both you and Ellie started to debate with the girl, but only one of you knew how deeply fucked you are.

#the last of us #the last of us imagine #the last of us part two #the last of us part 2 #jesse the last of us #Eugene linden #DO IT FOR EUGENE #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #eugene the legend #Ellie Williams #ellie the last of us #it's getting hot bois #it's getting fucking hottt #dina the last of us #naughty dog

[xxx-cat-xxx]

Just a Bend in the Road

Something is wrong with Tony, Peter is sure. 

At least they’re only three hours out from the lakehouse now; Pepper will be able to figure out whatever it is that’s going on with him. Just a few hours, Peter thinks. They can do that. 

Turns out, that was a bit optimistic.

Happy Birthday to @ravenclaw-lair, who asked me for a carsickness-turned-worse fic with the Iron Family. This is set in my favourite post-Endgame AU where Tony lives and Peter finally gets to meet Morgan and Pepper.

A million thanks to @whumphoarder for beta reading and coming up with an ending :) And special thanks to @heyjupiter for the East Coast university expertise.

_____________________

“You know Pete,” Tony starts for the nth time this weekend when they pull back onto the road after a rest stop, “you could still go for MIT. I know the person in charge of the admissions office. And when I say know, I mean”—he glances through the rearview mirror at Morgan, who is contentedly listening to audiobooks through her tablet before lowering his voice—“we had some pretty  intense late-night study sessions in the physics lab together back in the day. And by intense, I mean -”

“Stop, please stop,” Peter protests, rapidly shaking his head to get rid of the mental image. “I don’t even wanna think about that. And besides the fact that May would never let this happen, I don’t want to get into MIT just because you know someone there. That would be unfair to everyone else who had to apply. Plus, I really liked Culver.”

“Whatever you say, kiddo…” Tony sighs. “But let me know if you change your mind.”

Peter is sure he won’t. His grades are good, but, due to his nightly superhero activities, not quite outstanding enough for MIT, and he’s actually fine with that. He did like what he saw of Culver University during their open day - it’s not as top ranked as MIT or the Ivy League schools, but the quality of teaching and their hands-on research approach sounded cool. Plus, it’s Bruce Banner’s old university, and he comes there to give guest lectures from time to time, something Peter would be thrilled to witness.

Peter just hopes that Tony isn’t too disappointed in him for not trying out MIT - he’s seemed a bit distant throughout the whole trip.

“Do you want some trail mix?” Peter offers. Food is usually a failsafe way to lift his mentor’s mood.

“Nah, I’m good,” Tony declines. 

“I WANT TRAIL MIX!” Morgan shouts from under her headphones, about six times louder than necessary.

“Morguna, keep your voice down,” Tony scolds. 

“Sorry,” Morgan stage-whispers. “Can I have some now?”

(Needless to mention, food works wonders on her, too.) 

Peter holds out the bag and Morgan reaches into it with both of her hands, grabbing so much at once that half of it spills back into her lap. Grinning, Peter turns back to Tony and offers the bag once more. “You sure? It’s the good stuff - half M&Ms and no raisins.”

Tony seems to pale a little bit. He shakes his head tightly. “Not hungry.”

Peter frowns. There is no way Tony can’t be hungry. He skipped breakfast that morning, claiming that he’d rather have a long and undisturbed shower, but by the time Peter and Morgan came back, stuffed full of hotel food delicacies, he’d still been in bed. And, thinking back to last night, Peter recalls that Tony barely finished the small pizza he’d shared with Morgan. 

Now that he’s paying attention, Peter notices the thin film of sweat forming on his mentor’s forehead despite the almost too-cold temperature in the air conditioned car. “Are you alri-”

“What’s that shrieking noise?” Tony interrupts, nodding at the radio playing something from the local station. “Doesn’t even deserve to be called music,” he grumbles, passing Peter his phone. “Here, play something decent.”

Peter connects the device and pulls up one of Tony’s playlists, but the worry in his gut only increases at the man’s not very subtle attempt at changing the topic. At least they’re only three hours out from the lakehouse now; Pepper will be able to figure out whatever it is that’s going on with him. Just a few hours, Peter thinks. They can do that. 

Turns out, that was a bit optimistic.

Forty-five minutes later, Peter is idly texting with Ned about their current Lego project when Morgan suddenly takes off her headphones. “Daddy, are we almost there?” she asks, her tone just bordering on a whine.

“It’s at least another two hours,” Tony replies, glancing at her through the mirror with a frown. “What’s bugging you, Morguna?”

“My tummy doesn’t feel good,” Morgan complains, bending forward and wrapping her arms around herself. 

“Do you feel carsick?”

Morgan nods, pressing her lips together. 

“Okay bud, hold on a second,” Tony reassures calmly, already taking his foot off the gas. “I’ll find us a rest stop and we take a break.”

They reach the rest stop without incident, much to Peter’s relief. He used to get carsick a lot as a kid and remembers just how awful it felt. Tony makes Morgan walk around the car a few rounds to get some fresh air and then coaxes her into drinking half a bottle of Sprite. 

Tony is kind and patient as always when he talks to Morgan (something Peter still isn’t used to, despite having had a few months now to get used to Dad Tony™), although Peter can’t help but notice that his mentor seems a little out of it. 

After ten minutes, when the colour has returned to Morgan’s cheeks, Tony moves gingerly around the car to put her back into the booster seat, his lips pressed together almost as if he’s in pain. Both his real and prosthetic hands are shaking slightly when he clicks the seatbelt. 

“Break’s over, back to the road,” Tony’s voice knocks Peter out of his thoughts. He tosses the car keys to Peter, who catches them in confusion. “Your turn, Underoos. I’ll sit in the back with Morguna until she feels better.”

“What? No!” Peter protests. “I can’t drive!”

“What do you mean, you can’t drive?” Tony rebuts. “Do you have a license or not?”

“Well, yeah, but...” Peter does have a license, and he’s definitely come a long way since the day he nearly wrecked Flash’s car, but that still doesn’t mean he feels comfortable behind the wheel. “This car is crazy expensive! What if I break something?”

“Then I’ll buy a new one,” Tony says simply.

That was definitely not the answer Peter was looking for. He lets out a sigh and Morgan giggles a bit from where she’s pressed against Tony’s arm. 

“Come on, kid, please?” The tone is joking, but there’s a hint of desperation under the surface. Something is very, very wrong. 

“Okay,” Peter gives in. “But no comments about me driving below the speed limit.”

Tony gives a half-hearted grin. “Deal.” 

“Deal!” Morgan echoes, which makes Peter smile a little.

Peter is so nervous as he steers them back onto the highway that he hardly dares to draw a full breath. But after a few minutes, he realises that this car runs much smoother than May’s old Toyota Corolla. It’s almost as intuitive as navigating his Spider-Man suit, and after a while, Peter feels himself relax to the point where he is nearly enjoying it. 

Then, he hears a cough from the backseat that quickly turns into a hitching gag. Peter glances in the rearview mirror, fully expecting to see Morgan throwing up. But instead, the girl is staring at her father with a mixture of fear and surprise. It’s Tony who is now white as a ghost and pressing a sleeve-covered hand to his mouth, visibly trying to keep himself from being sick. 

“Pull over,” he says through gritted teeth. 

Peter is flabbergasted. “I can’t just -” 

“Daddy?” Morgan asks, her voice wavering.

“Pete, pull over,” Tony urges, his voice sharp. 

“Okay, okay...” Peter mumbles. He forces himself to concentrate on the road. He indicates to the right to change lanes and then pulls off onto the highway shoulder. 

The car has barely come to a stop before Tony throws the door open and stumbles out of sight behind the vehicle. Peter hears a painful-sounding retch, then the sound of liquid hitting the asphalt. 

“Daddy?” Morgan asks again in a small voice, starting to unbuckle her seatbelt. Figuring the audience of an anxious six-year-old is the last thing Tony wants at the moment, Peter stops her.

“Morgan, wait. Stay here with me,” he says. “Just give your dad a minute, okay?”

She looks at him, her eyes wide. “Is Daddy okay?”

“I- I think he’s a bit sick,” Peter admits. “But he’s gonna be fine,” he adds when he sees Morgan’s eyes fill with tears, irrespective of the worry tightening in his own stomach. 

“Can you look for a water bottle and tissues?” he asks, mostly to give her something to do. 

Morgan nods earnestly and then starts digging in the back pockets of the seats. She finds a packet of tissues and has just pulled out a water bottle when Tony returns. He climbs back into the car rather unsteadily, and sinks down into the seat with a heavy sigh.

“Sorry for that,” he states, his voice hoarse. He looks pretty bad, his face almost grey now and with a feverish gleam to his eyes that makes them stand out even more.

“Daddy!” Morgan exclaims. “Are you okay?”

Tony puts on a forced smile as he turns to face her. “Yeah, I’m okay, sweetie. Sorry I scared you.”

“Did you get carsick?” Morgan asks, mimicking his adult tone.

“Yeah, um, I was carsick,” Tony replies without looking at either of them. 

Peter doesn’t buy it for one second, but he doesn’t want to freak Morgan out. “Morgan, give him the tissues and some water, okay?” he instructs instead.

She holds the items out to Tony. 

“Thanks, munchkin,” he says softly, then takes a sip of water to rinse out his mouth. He leans out of the door to spit it out and can’t suppress a pained groan when he comes back up. “Okay, let’s just get home.”

Morgan snuggles against her father for the rest of the ride, her eyes half-closed, but she doesn’t really fall asleep. Tony seems to be barely holding it together. He is breathing shallowly, wincing slightly every now and then. More than once Peter can hear him gulp as if trying not to puke again. 

“Tony, seriously, tell me when to stop,” Peter whispers when he hears his mentor draw in a sharp breath after a curve. 

“Let’s just get to the house,” Tony mumbles before burping sickly into his sleeve.

Peter has never been happier to turn onto the forest road that leads them off the highway and towards the lake. The moment they stop, Tony is out of the car again, shuffling - almost limping - towards the house as quickly as he can. Peter parks the car and tells Morgan to go find her mom before following Tony to - who would have guessed - the bathroom. 

Peter can hear him throwing up from outside the door. He knocks, but the only response is another retch. Worry takes over, his spider-sense humming in his ears, and he opens the door without waiting any longer. 

Tony is hunched over the bowl, his left arm braced on the toilet seat and the prosthetic one wrapped tightly around his abdomen. He’s in the middle of heaving up bile, his whole body shaking from the strain of it. Peter waits until the current round is finished before tearing off some toilet paper and handing it over for Tony to wipe his mouth with, which the man does clumsily with his left hand. 

“Don’t kill me,” Tony rasps, not looking up at Peter. “I just didn’t wanna freak out Morgan - she’s just always so worried since I lost my arm and all.” He drops the paper into the bowl and reaches up to flush the handle, his face contorting into a painful grimace as he does so.

“And that’s why you didn’t wanna tell her that you got a stomach bug?” Peter asks incredulously. 

“Um...actually…” Tony swallows. “I think it might be appendicitis.”

Peter blinks. “What the hell, Tony? You should be in a hospital.”

“Morgan is really scared of hospitals - it would have terrified her if she'd seen me get wheeled off to surgery again. I’m sorry, kid, but what was I supposed to do?” Tony tries to sit back carefully but then just sort of collapses against the wall, his right knee pulled up to his chest.

A hundred possible answers to this question spring to Peter’s mind, all of which include Tony telling him what was going on about three hours ago. But he swallows them down - now is not the time.

“C-Can you get Pepper?” Tony asks in a sort of pitiful voice.

He’s looking a lot worse than he did just ten minutes ago, and despite his anger, Peter feels a pang of sympathy when he realises just how much Tony must have been holding it together in front of Morgan. 

“Sure.” Peter nods. “But don’t think we’re done talking about this.”

Despite the misery he’s in, Tony manages a weak grin. “Yes, Dad,” he teases.

Peter just sighs.

He almost bumps into Pepper when he opens the door to the living room where Morgan is watching TV.

Pepper takes in the look on Peter’s face and frowns. “What did he do this time?” she mouths. 

“Appendicitis,” Peter whispers back. Pepper’s eyes widen a bit in concern, but otherwise she doesn’t seem nearly as shaken as Peter feels. Two decades of life with Tony Stark seems to have brought her anxiety threshold to an entirely new level. She steps out into the hall and pulls the door shut behind her.

“Are you sure?” she asks. 

“Tony seems sure. And the symptoms match - I think he’s been feeling sick at least since yesterday, and it’s just getting worse.” Peter bites his lip, suddenly overcome by guilt upon thinking about how long it took him to figure out that something was off. 

Pepper seems to catch on to this. “Hey, enough of that. It’s not your fault, okay? Tony is a stubborn idiot who’d rather have the whole world believe that he’s a class-A asshole than admit to being sick.” 

Peter swallows, thinking back to the little he knows about the palladium poisoning period of Tony’s life. His admiration for Pepper instantly increases tenfold.

“I’m gonna drive him to the hospital,” Pepper continues. “I know we were supposed to drop you back with your aunt later, but do you mind staying with Morgan until Happy can get here?”

“No problem,” Peter reassures. Pepper nods gratefully and then walks briskly past him to the bathroom, where, from the sound of it, Tony is being sick again.

Peter’s enhanced hearing picks up Tony’s croaky, “Hey, Pep,” when she enters.

“Oh, Tony,” Pepper replies. “You’re burning up. You’re a hot mess, you know that?” 

Tony chuckles weakly. 

“Do you think you can get up?” she goes on. “We need to get you straight to the hospital...” 

He’ll be fine, Peter tells himself. He’ll be alright.

He straightens up and opens the door to the living room. “Hey kid, what are you watching?”

*

Several hours later, Peter and Happy are sitting in front of the TV, Peter pretending to study his chemistry notes and Happy pretending to watch Grey’s Anatomy while mostly being caught up in their own thoughts. It took Happy a while to get to the lakehouse, and then Peter decided against driving home. It’s exam season and he can just as well study here. Plus, he wants to be able to visit Tony in the hospital the next day.

Morgan has finally succumbed to sleep after Happy read her four different picture books. She was cranky all evening, first asking for pudding and ice cream for dinner and then demanding extra TV time, but no one had the heart to stop her. Both Happy and Peter realised that that was just her way of dealing with the worry they’re all experiencing. 

Happy has almost fallen asleep on the couch when his phone starts to ring. He startles, then reaches out to pick it up. “Pepper,” he informs Peter. 

Peter shamelessly eavesdrops when Happy answers the call. 

“Hey,” Pepper greets on the other side. “It’s over. He’s awake now.”

Happy lets out a small exhale the same moment Peter feels the tension leave his own body. “Everything went well?” Happy asks. 

“Yeah, the operation went as planned. He was kind of out of it when he came around just now, sort of confused and anxious. Seems like Morgan isn’t the only one carrying around bad memories from the snap.”

Yeah, Peter thinks, you don’t say. 

“They gave him a light tranquilliser and he’ll probably sleep for the next few hours. I’ll stay here overnight if that’s alright with you, and if everything’s fine, you can bring Morgan here first thing in the morning. Peter too, if he wants to come.”

Happy raises a questioning eyebrow and Peter nods emphatically. 

“Yeah, he’ll come with us,” Happy reports. 

“Great.” Pepper lets out a sigh. “Tell Peter thanks for getting him home safely. Tony was asking about them - Morgan and Peter.”

“I will,” Happy says. “Try and get some sleep, boss.” 

“You too.” Peter practically hears the tired smile in Pepper’s voice. “Good night, Happy.” 

“So,” Happy turns to him after setting down the phone. “I suppose after today I should extend an official invitation to the official ‘Stark’s a Stubborn Idiot’ support group. We meet every other Thursday from seven to eight,” he deadpans. “Activities include dragging his ass to the hospital, dragging his ass to bed, dragging his... actually, mostly just a lot of ass-dragging.”

Peter laughs a bit at that. “Do I get a free t-shirt?”

Happy snorts. “I think that could be arranged.”

______________

If you liked this, you might also enjoy my 13k Irondad Endgame fix-it.

All my fics

Taglist: @toomuchtoread33  @yepokokfine

@badthingshappenbingo This is my fill for the ‘Appendicitis’ square.

#Irondad #Sick Tony #Tony!Whump #Ironfam #whump #tony stark #peter parker #morgan stark #pepper potts #Happy hogan #the whole fam basically #only rhodey is missing #post-endgame but Tony lives #sickfic #vomiting #fever #the official 'Stark's a Stubborn Idiot' support group

[neonsentient]

Haikyuu! Rise Above

A ragtag group of students from a school for troubled teenagers forms an unconventional co-ed volleyball team in hopes of proving to themselves that they're more than what people make them to be. With the help of a few loopholes in the rulebook, they'll have the chance to win the gold for what might possibly be the last time in their lives.

Think of it as a spin-off, the Karasuno's first years are now second years, but I will focus on this paticular team.

Warnings: Mentions of drug abuse, underage drinking, self harm, eating disorders, depression, suicide, racial and homophobic slurs. Not all at the same time though.  

Chapter 1: Promising Young People

Amara leaned closer to the toilet as she gagged, throwing up her measly breakfast of tea and apple slices, the only things she could stomach that morning. In an unusual lucky strike, the bathroom she was currently in puking her guts out was empty.  It probably had something to do with the fact that she decided to arrive at the school building an hour earlier, otherwise she would’ve had an audience.

She rose from the floor, wobbling like a newborn fawn, and went to check herself in the bathroom mirror. Her russet skin had an unhealthy pallor to it, her waist-length crow black braids were loose and poorly made and the bags under her eyes could’ve been easily mistaken for bruises. That morning she didn’t even bother to look for her makeup bag in her suitcase.

“First impressions matter, you know?” Her parents would’ve told her. “It’s not every day you get to make them.”

“But I already made mine.” Amara thought bitterly.

She splashed cold water on her face and rinsed her mouth as best as she could.  Now she was regretting not bringing at least some concealer or even chapstick.

“As if that were to make things any better.” A voice hissed from the back of her head. “As if that would…..”

Amara shook her head, bringing herself back as she checked her wrist watch. She was supposed to meet her guide at the entrance. In a normal scenario, she would’ve already known by now where everything in the school was, her classes, the gym, the best spots for a smoke break……

But despite being her second year of high school, it was her first year at Ōkamiyama Alternative Academy. In fact, since most of her education consisted of homeschooling, it was her first time back at school since she was in elementary, period. And unlike many other students who had arrived at least a week earlier, Amara’s messy flight schedule made her arrive only a day before the school started.

One look at the main building and it was clear that the school had a thing for a certain color scheme, or lack thereof, rather, since Amara noticed that all the buildings were either black, white or gray. That and the uniforms, a dreadful combination of a prison concrete gray blazer and pants or skirt with a white shirt and black tie. Luckily, the school didn’t seem to be too strict on the dress code, since she saw several students with all sorts of accessories, shoes and even altered pieces of the uniform.

She decided to play it safe by wearing it plain with a pair of rather sad looking black loafers that had seen better days - an emergency purchase at Target after her suede Jimmy Choo boots fell victim to an unexpected downpour-, and a gray Casio. It's not like she was expecting the sailor tops and blue skirts she saw on TV, but the overall look did leave Amara incredibly disappointed.  

Her guide was a girl called Emine Narisawa, also a second year and in the same class as her. Other than that she didn’t knew anything else. It was still a bit early, so she sat at a bench near the entrance, and to no surprise, it didn’t took long for the stares and whispers to start.

“That’s her, right?”

“Oh, so it was for real?”

“Is it just me, or did she looked taller on TV?

Amara’s vision turned blurry, her eyes curdling with tears. She quickly dug into her bag, pulled out her IPod nano (one of the few devices that the school allowed) and headphones and pressed shuffle, not even paying attention to the song that was playing as she took several deep breaths.

She tried her best to distract herself with anything, yet not even a second later, Amara felt a light tapping on her shoulder. She jolted on her seat, took off her headphones and turned to face the person behind her.

“Ups! Sorry!” A cheery voice apologized. “You’re Amara Murakami, right?

The girl was tall, not as much as Amara, but still taller than the average second year girl, and model-thin, with long hair the dark red of rose petals tied in a high ponytail. A ridiculously big, silvery gray bow sat atop her head. Amara immediately noticed her uniform, or “uniform”; the blazer had been turned into a button vest, the gray skirt was embezzled with black and white rhinestones and she sported a pair of white Adidas sneakers. Amara had bought the same ones just two months ago. A thin, white gold anklet with pea-sized bubblegum-pink sapphires was clasped at her slim ankle.

“My name’s Emine Narisawa, but everyone calls me Emi! Wow, you’re taller than I imagined.” The girl chirped. Her voice had a slight hoarse edge to it, which combined with her super girly perfume, an overly sweet combination of flowers and strawberry, made Amara suspect that she was a smoker and that she probably had a cigarette before the tour. “Welcome to The Den!”

Amara could only raise her eyebrows.

“Get it? Cuss we’re wolves!” The girl pointed at the welcoming banner hanging in the entrance, where a menacing looking gray wolf was painted.

“Right.” Amara nodded, not knowing what else to say. "Umm, thanks?"

The redhead caught her hand in an overly enthusiastic handshake. She had a pretty face, although her cheeks looked a tad bit gaunt, and she wore silver eyeshadow with glitter all over her face and hair. Her tanned skin, a shade lighter than Amara’s, was completely covered with freckles, and her lips were painted a shimmering soft pink.

“Wow, your eyes look super cool!” She said, inspecting Amara’s face. “You’re from America, right? Is one of your parents Japanese?”

“So she hasn’t heard of me.” Amara thought with relief. She then noticed that Emine was waiting for an answer.

“Y-yeah I’m from Massachusetts.” She answered. “Umm, my dad’s Japanese and m-my mom’s Nipmuc.”

The redhead cocked her head in confusion.

“Native American.” Amara explained.

Emine’s licorice black eyes lit up.  

“Cool! So you guys are the ones that make, like, dreamcatchers and stuff?” She asked. There wasn’t a single hint of malice in her voice, just genuine curiosity, but still, it made Amara feel annoyed.  

“Ummm…”

“My Nine was from Turkey,” Emine said. “And they have these Nazar amulets to ward off the evil eye or something. Is it the same thing?”

“I don’t…”

“Anyways, you’ll love it here. It never gets boring!” Emine explained as she leaned uncomfortably close, linking her arm with Amara’s. “Follow me, I’ll take you to our classroom.”

The girls made their way inside the building and all the way through Emine "discreetly" pointed out rooms and people, giving Amara a crash course on the school, the students and teachers.

By the time they reached their classroom, Amara had learned that the captain of the baseball team had just began dating the president of the Student Council, crop tops were back in style, the back of the football field was the best place to smoke and that the guys from the Shōgi club sold the best ketamine during midterms.

"Don't they do drug tests all the time?" Amara asked. She herself had an appointment in the nurse’s office later that night for one.

Emine nodded.

"Yup, but it's a six panel."

It was Amara's turn to be confused once again. She had drug tests done before but she only...provided the sample, she never bothered to ask about the details.

"Weed, coke, speed, benzos, angel dust and opiates. All the mainstream stuff," Emine explained. "Ketamine doesn't show."

“Oh.” Amara said. “I thought there weren’t a lot of drug users in Japan.”

“Oh there are,” Emine said, occasionally waving to the people in the hallway. “And here are some of the ones that got caught.”  

“Good to know?”

Amara thought that drugs were a rare commodity in Japan, but then she remembered where she was….

“So…” The redhead began, pulling Amara out of her thoughts. “How are you liking the dorms so far?”

“They’re cool.” Amara replied in a monotone voice. “My roommate hasn’t showed up yet, though.”

“Oh yeah, I heard she’s busy with some family stuff.” Emine pointed out.

“So you know her?” Amara inquired. “What’s she like? I mean, personality wise.”

Emine scrunched up her face, trying to find the right words.

“Well, she’s a bit of a…..

“Bitch!” A voice yelled from the other side of the hallway.

A girl walked towards them with a rhythmic and intense stride that made Amara think she was going to do a handspring or cartwheel at any second. She was gorgeous, what people would call a “Bombshell”, with sun tanned skin as if she had spent an entire summer at the beach, and a long mane of sandy blonde waves styled in the same way as Emine; a high ponytail with a bow on top, though hers was black. Her dark teal eyes had a gleam that Amara could only describe as “keen”.

The girl faced directly at the redhead with a quasi indignant look. Amara noticed that her look was very similar to Emine's; the embezzled skirt and altered blazer, shimmery eyeshadow and glitter sprinkled all over her face and hair.

"I can take a couple missed calls but ignoring me the whole summer was just mean!" She said, giving the redhead an angry look.

Emine looked saddened.

"I'm sor…..”

Before the redhead could finish the blonde interrupted her with a big hug.

"I've been worried sick! Even a "Don't text me" would've been enough!" She cried, clinging to Emine's neck. "Never do that again, got it?"

Emine's expression eased as she returned the hug.

"Never again."

If there was something worse than being a third wheel Amara sure was being just that at the moment.

The girls broke their hug and a pair of teal eyes immediately fell on Amara. They weren't menacing, just, observing her. The blonde was significantly shorter than Amara and Emine, but her presence felt more….. imposing. Even with the uniform, Amara could see the outline of muscle on her legs and arms.

"Oh!" Emine exclaimed, as if she had just remembered that Amara was there, and gestured towards the blonde. "Amara, this is Erika Sawai, captain of the cheer squad.

“Now it makes sense,” Amara connected the dots as she looked at both Emine and the blonde. The perky attitude, the lithe build, and even the bows. “They’re cheerleaders.”

“And Erika, this is….."

"Amara Murakami," Erika said, capturing Amara's hand in a firm handshake. "Rumour mill went that you were gonna end up here. But for future reference, I wouldn't trust anything they say around here. It tends to be a little….unreliable."

"Umm, sure" Amara said. She wasn't sure how to react to that. "I-I'll keep that in mind."

“My, my,” Erika leaned a bit closer. Amara caught the scent of the blonde's peach blossom perfume.  “What pretty eyes you have.”

“Uh, thanks.” Amara muttered.

"Oh, I know!" Emine perked up with an “Eureka!” type of expression. “Since I can’t join you guys for lunch why don’t you go with Amara to the cafeteria, Erika?”

Amara felt incredibly awkward. Day one and she was already being ditched by the one person that was supposed to be with her.

“Sure.” Erika shrugged, a smirk appearing on her face. “I love fresh meat.”

Amara gulped. Why did spending a couple hours with a cheerleader, a really pretty one to boot, made her more nervous than stepping into a court filled with professional players?

Then the bell pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Come on, Amara!” Urged Emine. The redhead turned quickly and gave Erika one last hug before entering the classroom. “And see you later Erika!”

Erika waved them goodbye before making her way to her classroom.

Their first classes; English, Math, Japanese literature and Science seeped through Amara’s brain like water on a strainer. Luckily none of her teachers made her introduce herself to the class so far.

But on the other hand, she couldn’t help but notice the “subtle” whispers and looks from her classmates.

A few minutes after the bell rang they found Erika already outside. Emine apologized to Amara, promising to be back as soon as lunch was over and making quick plans with Erika to catch up later in the day before she made her way into an unknown destination. Amara was tempted to ask, but at the same time she told herself that she knew better than prying on someone else’s business.

She exited the classroom and was immediately greeted by Erika’s sly smile.

“Long time no see, Sugar.”

Amara gave her a tight smile as they walked towards their destination.

_________________________________________________________________________

The principal was a firm believer that a healthy diet was key to a healthy mind, therefore, the school’s vending machines only offered water, organic soy milk, sugar-free drinks, fruit and protein bars.

There were two cafeterias, but Amara was told upon arrival that she only had access to one of them. There, most of the menu items were either boiled, steamed or baked and it also had an all-you-can-eat salad bar and a drink station where one could get teas, coffees, smoothies or juices. Amara thought it was a sharp, yet nice, contrast with her old elementary school’s cafeteria choices of cardboardy pizza, dry meatloaf and congealed mac 'n' cheese.  

Amara silently wondered what was the deal with the other cafeteria as she took a spoonful of miso soup.

“Liking the food so far?” Erika asked, placing her tray opposite to Amara's. She had a bowl brimming with a colorful salad of greens, pecans, apples and fennels, a plate of spiced tofu and two cups; one filled with a pale orange drink and the other with a beige colored liquid. She handed the beige one to Amara. " Here, try this."

She had told Erika that her stomach was feeling a little odd (yet not the reason as to why), so Amara trusted that anything she had given her wouldn't kill her on the spot. She took a sip and despite the unappetizing color the flavour was delicious; sweet, creamy yet not too heavy, and with the aftertaste of almonds. It felt nice on her tender stomach.

"Wow," Amara said, pleasantly surprised. "What's this?"

Erika winked and smiled. For a second, it reminded Amaran of someone else's smile.

"My Mama calls it the Jitter Killer." She explained, her voice emitting a hint of nostalgia. "She's been making them for me ever since I started competing. But once I got here I had to start making them myself."

"It's really good!" Amara complimented, taking another sip. She then thanked her, wholeheartedly. Gestures like those literally made her day a thousand times less shitty.

"Any time, Sugarcube." She chuckled, and then leaned towards her with a curious expression. "But do tell. How is a first day of school more intimidating than stepping into a court filled with three meter sized Amazonians?"

Amara lowered her face and blushed. She only told her that she wasn’t feeling good, she never told her the reason.

"Is it really that obvious?"

"You look exactly how I did on the day of my first competition." Erika recalled. "I believe I was around six?"

"What?" Amara said. "Do cheerleaders really start that young?"

"Yup." Erika nodded. "Especially in the States. They love their cheers there, let me tell ya."

"You're from there too?"

"Mama's from Texas" The blonde said. "So it’s always been half and half until now. We still go for the holidays though, they’re much more fun there."

"Sounds cool. I'm from Massachusetts, and I've only been in Japan like twice….until now."

The atmosphere suddenly became grim, and Amara felt her breath hitch. Erika's hand reached for hers.

"Hey." Emiki said, her voice serious. "I know you probably heard this enough but...I'm really sorry for your loss."

Amara's eyes began to curdle with tears.

"You're actually one of the only ones to tell me that."

Then she broke into sobs.

"S-sorry." Amara tried to apologize. Last night she had cried herself to sleep in her dorm, clutching a pair of worn out volleyball shoes, not even bothering to unpack, she just wasn’t in the mood for anything but crying. And there she thought that she had cried everything last night…...

Erika bolted from her seat and to her side, placing her hands on Amara's shoulder in a comforting manner.

"Oh, Honey Bee." She said. "Don't you dare apologize for your feelings ever again. You better promise me that"

Amara sniffed and nodded.

"You wanna talk about it?" Erika asked, the way a mother would when trying to comfort her child.

"I….

"There you are!" A voice interrupted. "We've been looking for you everywhere, morra!"  

Amara and Erika both turned and looked. There were three girls, each one different from the other. They were around the same height but that was where the similarities ended. One had brown skin, long glossy black hair in a single thick braid tied with a gray bow and umber brown eyes traced with glittery makeup. A gold stud glinted in her nose. The other had bronze skin, waist-length chocolate colored hair with a gray bow atop and eyes like two yellow tourmalines. On her face was a red lipped, wicked dimpled smile, like a kid who’d just finished pulling up a prank. The third one was a bit meek looking, with rosy white skin, a cloud of short strawberry blonde hair with a white bow on top and soft green eyes. She fidgeted with her hands and seemed ready to throw up at any second. Amara immediately felt a bout of compassion towards her.

“It’s lunch time, where else would I be?” Erika asked with a confused expression.

“Good point.” The brown haired girl said. She took a sip from the giant coffee cup in her hand. “Can we join you?”

Erika gestured at the empty seats.

The black haired girl looked at Amara up and down, from her messy braids and puffy red eyes to the plain black loafers.

“First time here?” She asked her as she sat.

Amara nodded and noticed their outfits; skirts embroidered with flowers and crystals, Miu Miu sneakers and Birkin bags. How she wished she had her new Air Jordans with her….

“Aww! I remember my first day as if it was yesterday.” The brown haired girl sighed.

The black haired girl furrowed her brow.

“Didn’t you threw up from withdrawal?”

“It was from a hangover, not withdrawal! They’re like two different things!” The brown haired girl corrected, indignant.

Erika cleared her throat, making the three girls turn their heads at her.

“Amara, these are my friends and members of the cheer squad.” Erika explained.

She pointed at the black haired girl.

“This is Kumari Hanan, our best flyer.”

Kumari gave Amara a small nod.

“This is Ximena Otakara, our dance expert and choreographer.”

“And future celebrity, don’t forget that.” The brown haired girl added with a wink.

Erika rolled her eyes and then pointed at the strawberry blonde girl.

“And this is our newest addition to the team, Kara Tamada”

Kara gave Amara a timid smile and wave.  

“Kumari is a third year like me, Ximena’s a second year like you, and Kara is a freshman.” Erika explained and then gestured at Amara. “Girls, this is Amara Murakami, please don’t torture her.”  

“A la madre! ” Ximena looked at her, surprised. “Wicked eyes, girl!”

Amara lowered her gaze and mumbled an empty thanks. If there was something she was used to at that point in her life, was of people making comments about her eyes.

"Sectoral heterochromia." Were the doctor's oficial words.

"Stained glass eyes." Her friends often called them.

"Woodland eyes." Her grandfather had called them. "Brown for the soil, black for the stone and green for the life."

"You carry your land within your eyes, Amara." He told her once. "You will never be lost."

“If only that were true.” Amara couldn’t help but think.

But then she saw Ximena’s eyes squinting in concentration.

“No mames, I’ve seen you before!” She said, proud of her discovery. “You’re that volleyball chick!”

“Holy shit, you’re right.” Kumari joined.

Amara’s stomach plummeted and her face paled, which Erika noticed.

“Damn it you two, what did I just say!?” The blonde scolded. Her tone was the same one Amara’s mom used when reprimanding her. “Hope you’re in the mood for running suicides today!”

"What? Why?" Ximena and Kumari cried.

"That's okay, Erika." Amara reassured her. "It's not like it's a secret, anyway."

“See? We have the Ok.” Ximena said, earning a murderous gaze from Erika.

Then an awkward silence filled the table.

“So…” Kumari began, taking a sip of her purple smoothie. “You’re joining the volleyball team?”

In Ōkamiyama, all students were required to join a school club or association, and from looking at the list that came with the welcoming pamflet, there seemed to be quite a lot, from embroidery and cooking to horse riding and rock climbing. There were even some odd ones like “The Cheese Connoisseurs Association” and “Apocalypse Survival Prepping Club”. And there were also the typical sports clubs like baseball, basketball, football* and of course, volleyball.

She didn’t wanted to give up volleyball, but the wound was still so fresh it still bled…...

“I-I don’t know.” She mumbled. “I’m still not sure. I have a week, don’t I?

“Yeah, of course.” Erika reassured her. “And if you need more time, you can ask the therapist for an extension.”

Amara had completely forgot about the therapist.

In a normal school, a counselor was usually available for students if they wished so, but here it was mandatory to have individual one hour weekly therapy sessions,and once she joined a club, group therapy would also become obligatory. Amara’s first session was scheduled for Sunday.

“Yeah, don't sweat it!” Ximena said.

“Isn't Emi also joining the volleyball team?” Kumari inquired.

Amara raised an eyebrow.

“I thought she was a cheerleader.” She asked, looking at Erika.

“Emphasis on was.” Ximena sighed.

“And not just that, she was...is...the best tumbler in the prefecture.” Kara explained in a soft voice.

“Really?” Amara asked, she knew from somewhere that tumbler meant acrobat, basically a gymnast with a mini skirt instead of a leotard. “Then why did she quit?”

Ximena, Kumari and Erika looked at each other.

“She didn’t told you?” Kumari asked.

“Tell me what?” Amara looked at Erika for guidance.

“Okay that’s enough.” The blonde’s face had a not so subtle hint of worry. “That’s not for us to talk about, I’m sure that in time Emi will tell you all about it.”

Amara certainly felt a bit pained for being left out, but it was someone whom she literally just met, so she concluded that she had no right to be upset either.  

Kara must’ve sensed the tense atmosphere and quickly asked some questions about the cheer squad. There were many terms that Amara did not understood, but she soon became fascinated. The cheerleaders at the games Amara played in danced around and cheered (duh!) but the way Erika and the others talked about the work plan for their squad it was clear that they did more than that.

“Hey, why don’t you join the squad?” Erika suggested.

“We do need more tumblers.” Kumari pointed out.

“Yeah.” Ximena agreed. “How are your back handsprings?”

“Ummm...nonexistent?”  Amara admitted, although the idea did sound nice. “I do have a mean cartwheel, though.”

The girls chuckled.

“Okay, maybe we can help you find another club if volleyball and cheerleading won’t do it for ya.” Erika smiled and stood, walking towards a notice board and taking a poster version of the clubs and associations list.

“Let’s see then.”

They tried to summarize each club as best as they could, counting the pros and cons and telling her about the people in them.

“What’s the Wolf Kingdom Club?” Amara asked, slightly amused by the odd names.

Everyone grunted, which Amara took as a bad sign.

“That’s the historical reenactment club.” Erika said. “They do everything medieval, and I mean everything.”

“Except dying from the plague.” Kumari muttered.

“So that’s a no?” Amara inquired.

“Depends.” Ximena said. “Do you like dancing with seven layers of clothing on and churning your own butter?”

“Pass.” Amara said.  

And so they spent the rest of the lunch break going over the list in hopes of finding something for Amara, but nothing seemed to catch her attention. Kara spoke on occasions whenever she felt in danger of being forgotten.

By the time the bell rung, they’ve managed to narrow it down to the basketball team and the basket weaving club. She had the height and the jump for the first one and the skills for the last one.

“If you change your mind, you should go with Emi to the tryouts after school.” Erika reminded her as they walked towards Amara’s classroom.

She nodded weakly, lost in thought.

Erika sighed and tapped her shoulder, making their eyes meet.

“Look, I don’t know a lot about volleyball, but I do know that it shares something in common with cheerleading.”

Amara arched an eyebrow. Then, Erika grabbed her hands, the blonde's lightly tanned skin clashing with Amara's russet complexion. Their eyes met, and Erika’s had one of the most serious expressions Amara had ever seen.

“Jumps are the most thrilling part, as well as the hardest.” She said. “When we jump, we don’t take steps back, not even to gain momentum. It’s always forwards, full force.”

Amara had so many questions about those words, yet she didn’t ask. Was it fear or confusion that stopped her? She didn’t knew. But for a moment she was sure the girl was saying that there was only one way to go.

Forward.

#haikyuu!! #haikyu #hq #OC #my OC #ocs #fanfiction #fanfic #My writing #haikyuu

[imagine-loki]

Gifted

Title: Gifted (Sequel to Giftless)

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 38/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die.  Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

Early the next morning, you and Loki had to make the portal to send Thor back home. He was livid when he found out about your 3:30am healing, but there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn’t stay here any longer, either. He had duties back home and had only been able to leave for your birthday. “We will find a cure, little sister,” he promised you before he stepped through the portal. You watched as it snapped closed behind him with a twinge of sorrow as you would miss him. He was a great friend and adopted older brother. He promised they would call you home to Asgard as soon as they found a cure. You smiled, glad that he thought enough of you to consider Asgard as your home as well.

You dragged Loki up to the infirmary after Thor had left so you could check on Veronica. You wanted to make sure all of your 3am healing took. Thankfully it had, she was asleep when you arrived, but the other healers assured you that she and the baby were both doing just fine. They shooed you from the infirmary as soon as they’d given you the update.  Julia was terrified that Fury or Tony would find you there. Apparently you were forbidden the infirmary anymore that day after the huge healing you had done the previous night. They really were keeping track of how much time and power you spent there.

“When is your first class?” Loki asked as you wandered to the kitchen to get breakfast. You got the biggest mug of coffee Helene had to offer. She gave you a disapproving look, but you flashed her a big reassuring smile and she let you have your coffee, as well as a huge plate of pancakes. You nodded your thanks and took your plate of pancakes to your usual table. You grinned when Loki sat across from you.

/Just like old times/ you thought at him. You had breakfast just like that almost every morning for the year you had both lived in the Tower together.

“Why are you two awake?” Tony asked when he joined you, pulling up a chair to sit at your two-person table.

[I have class] you signed at him. [I can’t miss any more classes this semester] you had only gotten out of the classes you had missed because Fury had told the school you were on an urgent mission for the Avengers. He wouldn’t help you skip classes for anything less than an emergency. Tony glared at you.  [I just have two classes today. We’ll be back by 1]

“Fine. Just be careful,” Tony replied. 

You rolled your eyes. [It’s going to suck] you signed, finally betraying some of your emotions to him.

“You like school,” Tony reminded you.  He was wrong, of course, but he was a moronic genius who tried to hard

[I want to be a qualified doctor] you corrected. [I doubt anyone there signs, and I’m already weird and a celebrity]

“Darling, it will be fine. I will be there to translate, and keep you company, and Mother is looking for a cure. She will find one soon, I am sure. Thor said that she was on the right track. He would not lie,” Loki added. You gave him a small smile, but you were still worried. “When is your first class?” he asked again.

[Sorry!] you signed. You had forgotten he had asked. [It’s at 9] you glanced at the clock and shoved your pancakes into your mouth faster. You didn’t have a whole lot of time. You stood and vanished your plate back to the kitchen. You used more magic to change your clothes from pajamas to your jeans, converse, and a hoodie stolen from Loki’s closet. Loki gave you a disapproving look at how grungy you looked, especially in his oversized hoodie.

“You are going out like that?” he asked. 

You rolled your eyes. /I’m a college student, Lo. This is how we dress/ you thought at him as you summoned your school bag, which had your laptop.

He sighed. “I can summon you something nicer,” he offered. You could tell he missed the dresses of Asgard. You sighed and held out your hand.

/Fine, but nothing too fancy. This is school/ you told him. You couldn’t help smiling when his expression lit up. /Nothing fancy!/ you reminded him. /No dresses/ you added for safe measure. He summoned a perfectly tailored pair of jeans instead of the fwumpy old ones you had been wearing and a soft green sweater that fit equally as well. At least he left you your converse. You reached up to braid your hair out of your way, but he spun you around quickly so he could do it himself. You just laughed while Tony rolled his eyes and made fake retching sounds. You flipped him off for his effort. You touched Loki’s cheek and used magic to give him an outfit too, a pair of jeans, a white button-down shirt, and a black tie and suit jacket. He looked at you confused, expecting that you would pick something more casual. You did his hair in a quick manbun, as that was the American standard for what to do with long hair on men. /It’s appropriate since you’re technically working as a translator/ you explained. /Plus you look nice in a suit/

“Only nice? My lady wounds me.” He held his hand to his heart with a mock-expression of pain. 

You laughed at him. /Fine. You’re hot and the most handsome man I have ever laid eyes on. Does that please you, peacock?/ you replied with more laughter.

“Whatever you two are talking about, knock it off before I puke,” Tony grumbled. 

You laughed and bent down to kiss his cheek. [See you after school] you signed at him.

“You’re staying here?” he asked.

[For now] you had your own apartment off campus, but you felt better right now staying in your suite here in the compound.

“See you later then, imp, other imp,” he directed the last to Loki, who nodded and offered you his hand in formal escort. You laughed and placed your hand on his. After the first step we took, he teleported you to the coffeeshop on campus.

/You’re a genius/ you told him as you stepped inside the coffeeshop. You could use more coffee. You walked up to the counter and found that your order was already being made. You weren’t terribly surprised. You ordered the same thing every time you went there.

“What did you order for me last time?” Loki asked you when you had reached the counter. You signed back the reply and he placed the order with the barista. You paid for both of your drinks and you waited by the other counter.

“Sigyn, your order is ready!” the barista told you. You smiled and took your cup from her with a nod of thanks. You never placed your orders under your superhero name, but they always gave it to you that way anyway. “Loki, yours will be right up,” she added. Loki thanked her. It was only a minute more before he had his drink as well. You grabbed his tie and pulled him from the coffeeshop by it when he pretended to flirt too hard with the barista. Everyone laughed at your antics.

You led the way to your first class. /I’m going to have so much homework/ you whined at Loki. You’d been gone for two weeks. 

Loki just laughed. “No, you will not,” he replied with a grin.

/You did it?/ you accused. He tried to look innocent. You just laughed. /You’re so bad at the innocent look, but thank you/

“You are welcome, darling,”

You took seats together in the small classroom your first class was in. This was the class you were afraid of. The professor didn’t like you already because you was a celebrity, and in a stupidly accelerated program. You didn’t think he’d take the fact that you couldn’t talk well.

“I don’t allow visitors in my class,” the professor announced when he walked into the room.

[This is Loki. He’s my interpreter. You can’t deny my right to have him here] you signed quickly. Loki translated flawlessly, getting your tone in the words. The professor looked like he was going to argue. [This has already been approved by the dean] you added. Even he couldn’t fight with the dean.

/What is a dean?/ Loki asked you after he had translated your words.

/The leader of the school/ you replied. The professor couldn’t argue that, especially in front of all of the other kids. They all loved you and would fight for your rights if you wouldn’t do it youself. You was just glad this class was graded entirely by multiple guess exams. You could get out of here with your A in a couple months. The professor kept asking you questions throughout the class, as if trying to trip you or Loki up. It was a useless endeavor on his part. He didn’t realize you could just tell Loki your answers telepathically if he couldn’t read the signs. He had no trouble, though and it just frustrated the professor even more. It would have been comical if it weren’t so annoying.

You were glad when class was over and you strolled to the student center with Loki to kill time until your next class. /Are you hungry?/ you asked on the way. It wasn’t quite late enough for lunch, but you knew his metabolism, especially after the magic he had gone through yesterday.

“I could eat,” he answered, which you took to mean that he was hungry. So you stopped by a little hamburger stand on the way to the student center. You thought Loki would hate the place on principle, since it was a greasy delicious college hamburger stand, but he surprised you by actually enjoying the burger.

/I love this place. Best greasy hamburgers in town/ you explained. He raised an eyebrow as you shoved a handful of the best french fries in the city in your mouth. /What? Surely the women on Asgard crave junk food too/

He sighed. “Next you will be demanding chocolate,” he said with a mock whine. You just smiled at him.

/Like you wouldn’t summon all of the chocolate in the city if I asked for it/ you replied.

“You are right, of course,” he conceded with a smile.

You hung out in the student center where Loki got to watch all of the college students while you caught up on social media and emails. You had missed a lot while you was in Asgard. you should have been doing homework, but social media was way more important. You would do the homework later. You had pictures to tag yourself in on social media, friends to catch up with, and school emails to make sure you read.

You second class of the day was much better than the first. Loki was welcomed by the professor, who absolutely adored you. She was a fan of the Avengers and knew Loki as well as you. He was a celebrity too, after all. She asked you a couple of questions, but you thought that she just wanted to watch you sign than actually do anything malicious.

You were still glad when classes ended and you could teleport home. The second you were safely back, you set your schoolbag next to your spot on your usual couch in the common room and magically changed your clothes back to pajamas.

You settled yourself in your spot on the couch and pulled out your laptop to do homework. Loki summoned a book to read. He was also in pajama pants and a t-shirt. You could get him to wear casual clothes around the tower, even if he wouldn’t wear them outside.

The commonroom soon got crowded when the kids and teens started coming home from school and the older supers were coming back from patrol. You looked over at Loki with a grin. /Want to have a little fun?/ you asked with a mischievous smile.

/Always/ he replied, not bothering to look up from his book. You gave him your plan quickly, without bothering to explain why it would be fun. /I hope this is as good at you are suggesting/ he told me.

He stood up on the seat of the couch, drawing everyone’s attention before he announced: “The floor is lava!” you tucked your feet up on the couch and laughed along with Loki as you watched all of the supers leap onto the nearest piece of furniture, or their neighbors and friends. Some used their powers to fly, teleport, or stick to the walls. Four people ended up on one small coffee table, all clinging to each other so they didn’t fall off. You laughed when they all toppled over and had overly dramatic ‘deaths’ in the lava.

Nat calmly walked over to one of the couches. “I’m a fire demon. I’m immune to lava,” she announced. You and Loki laughed, allowing it since she was Nat.

The game ended and everyone went back to what they were doing. “Does everyone know this game?” Loki asked in delight after it was over. 

You shrugged. /I think every American kid does/ you replied, already planning the next game, and silently apologizing to Loki because he was going to lose.

You got up to put a movie in the DVD player, and placed one finger to your ear as you were walking back to the couch. Someone saw you and mimicked your movement. Soon the entire room had their finger against their ear, as if we were all getting a message in an earbud. You grinned at Loki who was busy with his book and hadn’t noticed your antic until he caught your mood shift. He looked up just in time to get tackled to the floor. “Get down, Mr. President!” the supers yelled as everyone leapt on top of him, pinning him to the ground. You laughed and kissed his cheek while you were both pinned. You had been the first one to tackle him, and ended up on the bottom of the pile.

“What’s going on in here?” one of the older supers asked, seeing your dogpile.

“Mr. President was in danger,” one of the kids replied as our pile slowly dispersed.

“Of course. Who was the unlucky President today?” he asked warmly.

“Loki,”

“Well that’s hardly fair. Poor guy probably doesn’t even know the game.”

“Kat started it!” the kids protested. You all started laughing while you helped Loki back to his feet and gave him a proper kiss in apology.

“Silly Trickster,” he whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

/I learned from the best/ you replied. He gave you an elegant bow, accepting the praise. You laughed and explained the rules of the game to him, so he would be prepared next time.

“What are you guys up to?” Tony asked, seeing the room in chaos as everyone tried to get back to their places from our latest game.

“The floor was lava, and then I was the President,” Loki answered calmly as you finally got to settle back in our places on the couch. Tony roared in laughter.

“I would have paid to see you get tackled by the entire group, Mr. President,” Tony chuckled. He didn’t notice until he saw you make the movement, that everyone had put a finger to their ear and he was the last one. He tried to run, but it was too late.

“GET DOWN MR. PRESIDENT!” Roared the crowd as Tony was tackled to the floor.

“I am going to kill you for starting this, imp,” Tony grumbled at you.  You held up your hands innocently.

[I didn’t say anything] you signed indignantly once everyone had removed themselves from Tony. You also healed someone’s nose that had gotten smashed in the excitement. Mr. President was not the safest game ever.

“Kat, we need you and Loki to go out on patrol tonight. Freeza and Nebula caught that stupid flu that’s going around,” Fury greeted you at dinner that evening. You and Loki nodded and agreed to go on the patrol. Loki was always your patrol partner when he was in town. You worked well together and had fairly complimentary powers, plus a stupid amount of healing power between the two of you. Fury gave you your patrol route and left. He didn’t socialize…ever.

As soon as you were done eating, you put your dishes away and changed into your armor. You made sure your dagger sheath was in place, then took Loki’s hand so you could teleport to the start of your patrol route.

You spent most of the evening just walking the streets of the warehouse district in uniform. Of course there were absolutely no illicit kisses during patrol. None whatsoever. You would never do such a thing.

You did come across some robbers trying to rob a bank. You just smiled at Loki. /Shield/ You told him before the robbers noticed you. He smiled and you saw the flicker of green light around him. You stepped into the bank and the robbers turned to face you.

“Hello boys,” you greeted them. Before the second word was out, they were all on the ground unconscious. Loki made the call in to the cops, not knowing if the curse from Balder would work across the phone line. Neither of you wanted to take the chance. The cops picked up the robbers, who were still unconscious. This curse from Balder sucked, but it did make patrol a bit easier in this one case.

The next fight you came across was a lot harder, since there were too many civilians around for you to use that particular power. There was a trio of bad guys, including a firestarter. You and Loki took out the firestarter easily. He wasn’t the problem. The super strength guy got his hands on you and threw you into a nearby wall hard enough to break bones through your shielding. You cursed under your breath, throwing fireballs and daggers with your unbroken arm. The third one was throwing lightning at Loki and all of Loki’s illusions and clones. You cursed again silently and threw up walls of flames around the two remaining villains, buying you a little time. The civilians were busy taking pictures and video. Just what you needed when you were both bleeding and bruised, and your arm was hanging limp at your side.

You speed dialed the cops and summoned a bunch of heavy chain. You let the flame die around the super strength man and used your telekinesis to wrap the chains around him as quickly as you could, using fireballs aimed at him to keep him from being able to fight the chains. He couldn’t fight both at the same time. Loki had the lightning super disabled at the same time. It didn’t take the cops long to arrive to collect the villains. You and Loki  waved to the crowd and he teleported you out of there and back to your suite in the compound.

“Did you forget to shield?” Loki asked you as he helped you sit on your couch. 

You shook your head. /This was damage done through my shields/ you replied.

“Damn, he was strong,” he commented as he looked over your wounds. He hesitated. “I need to see your arm to heal it,” he finally said. You nodded and vanished the top of your armor, leaving you in just your bra. He had seen you in less yesterday, plus this was for healing. Tony rushed into the room while Loki was looking over your side and arm, seeing how bad the damage was.

“Kat? Fury said you were back from patrol. I didn’t see you come in. Is everything ok? What the hell?” Tony demanded. “Why aren’t you in the infirmary and where the hell is your shirt?” he added more loudly when he saw that you were injured. You gestured to Loki with your good arm. You rolled your eyes and sat quietly while Loki got to work healing your injuries.

“We found a couple of villains with powers. One of them hurt Kat through her shielding. I can heal her just as easily, if not more so, than the healers downstairs, and she does not have to step foot in the infirmary. I needed to see her injury, and had you knocked, you would not have to see your niece in nothing but her bra,” Loki answered calmly, but grumpily while he worked. It didn’t take him long to fix the damage. You gave him a kiss when he was done. He pulled the throw blanket off of the couch and wrapped it around your shoulders to cover you. 

[I’m fine, Tony] you signed at him tiredly. [We caught some robbers and some supervillains. It’s late and I just went through a healing. Yell at us tomorrow if you insist on yelling]

“Sorry, Kat. I just worry about you. I hate when you get attacked on patrol. You know that,” Tony said, coming over to give you a hug. “I’m glad you’re ok. Go get some rest before your eyes do that creepy black thing again.” You rolled your eyes at him, but got up from the couch and shoved him from your sittingroom, closing and locking the door firmly behind him. You looked Loki over to make sure he wasn’t injured. He only had a couple scrapes and bruises, which only took a pinch of power to fix. You summoned some pajamas and smirked when you realized in your exhaustion that you had summoned one of his Asgardian tunics to wear to bed. It had apparently become a habit. He grinned at you too when he realized what you had done.

“You are adorable, darling,” he told you, when he realized what you wereYwearing. you blushed at the unexpected compliment, but kissed him again before you both fell into bed. You was tired of the long days already and you hadn’t been home very long at all.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #gifted #Chapter 38 #nekoamamori

[cake-writes]

In Your Atmosphere (Part Four)

Pairings: Steve x Reader & platonic Bucky x Reader (mostly)

Warnings: PTSD / Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Anxiety Disorder, Panic Attacks, Mental Health Issues, Survivor Guilt, Eventual Smut 18+

Summary: The first time you met Steve Rogers, he kissed the hell out of you. It wasn’t the first time he met you.

Part Three / Master List

—

You didn’t wake until the early afternoon.

It felt like you’d been hit by a truck. Your head was throbbing, your body was aching, and you were nauseous, not to mention the embarrassing fact that you'd very likely made a fool of yourself after drinking so much. Of course, you should have expected all of the above after somehow polishing off nearly two entire bottles of wine. How Natasha was able to hold her liquor the way she did, you weren’t sure, but you liked to think she wasn’t human. In some ways, she wasn’t.

Your showers normally took about ten minutes, but today it took half an hour. You moved in slow motion as you washed up, brushed your teeth, and got dressed into something more presentable than your rumpled clothing from the night before. You were sorely tempted to just go back to bed, both to sleep and to avoid the embarrassment of running into Steve in the hallway, but your sleep schedule was screwed up enough already as it was and you didn’t want to make it worse. There was at least a small comfort in knowing that that he was likely still out on his mission with Natasha.

The trek downstairs to the kitchen was uneventful. You pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water: your breakfast, for the very thought of food make you want to puke. Then you popped a couple ibuprofen into your mouth and swallowed them down, before you flopped down onto the sofa you’d used last night and turned on the TV.

There was something on the news about a bombing in the Middle East. That was nothing new. The loss of lives was certainly devastating, but it no longer had the same impact on you as it used to when you were younger. Once upon a time, you’d gone on missions to prevent those kind of tragedies, and for the most part you'd been successful. Then, on one particular occasion, you had failed and the loss of young lives was so significant that you hadn’t been in the field since. Instead, you went to therapy.

The coffee table was clean. It seemed that Steve had made good on his promise to clean up after you and Natasha, despite needing to rest before his mission. That made you feel guilty. You drank far too much and wound up not being able to clean up after yourself, let alone make it back to your room on your own. For some reason, probably because of the alcohol, you felt like you could trust him, and in the end you completely let your guard down. It was strange and a little unsettling, the effect he had on you: you wanted to trust him, as stupid and naive as it was. Even though he'd since apologized, the fact remained that he hadn't had your consent when he kissed you.

Frowning, you changed the channel, trying to distract yourself from your thoughts.

While you couldn’t really remember the specifics, you could definitely recall how secure his muscular arms felt around you when he’d lifted you into them. You could still feel the lull of your head against his strong shoulder as he carried you up the stairs, the clean, spicy scent of his cologne – or laundry detergent, or deodorant, even, you weren’t exactly sure – wafting through your nose. He’d been so gentle, so careful in setting you down upon your bed that you didn’t even know you’d made it there until you woke up again.

Your face heated up. Whether it was due to the fuzzy memory of him taking care of you or the realization that you were an idiot, you weren't entirely sure.

Wanda took a seat beside you on the sofa, then, but you lacked the energy to even startle. Instead, you regarded her with a single weary nod. In the muted sunlight streaming into the room, you noticed that her makeup was flawless, a stark contrast to your bare face and dark circles and you felt a pang of envy. She was gorgeous.

“How are you settling in?” she asked you kindly.

“It’s better than I could have hoped for. Everyone’s been so welcoming.” Especially Steve, and you couldn’t figure out why. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

She shook her head. “After everything you’ve done, you deserve a reprieve.”

Your service history wasn’t exactly a secret, but it still surprised you that Wanda knew about it. Although it certainly made sense - anyone who came to the compound would have been vetted prior to their arrival. You were no stranger to Tony Stark, but he still would have done his homework.

Of course, you didn’t feel like you’d done much during your tenure with SHIELD: rescue missions, mostly, with the occasional infiltration and every now and then a snatch and grab. It was on one of the former when the school was blown to hell, and only by sheer luck did you survive. Twenty-eight students and teachers, along with your partner, had not. You still received phone calls every now and then from the two little girls you did manage to save, but those only served to trigger memories that you’d rather forget.

Just like Wanda had done now. Despite that, you gave her a half-smile in thanks so as not to be rude.

She seemed to sense that it wasn’t exactly a topic you liked to discuss, and turned her attention to the TV. You appreciated how perceptive she was. The silence that fell over you both wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it wasn’t awkward or tense. You know that she, just like you, had gone through some terrible things and in some way Tony had saved her once, too.

He was the reason why, one and a half years after the worst day of your life, you were still here, still working in the intelligence community. For that, you’d forever be grateful.

---

The rest of the day seemed to drag, until, well, it didn’t. Because your sleep schedule was a mess, you were still awake at half past one in the morning when you heard it. The soft sound of the Quinjet's landing didn’t draw your attention nearly as much as the shouting, just barely audible through the small gap in your bedroom window. You’d only cracked it a little as you started to settle in for the night, wanting to feel the cool evening breeze as you slept, and thankfully, it offered the perfect amount of leeway to hear the commotion on the landing strip.

You peered out the window and saw six people, all clothed in black, in the midst of a heated argument as they exited the plane. One of them was on a stretcher, writhing in pain, shouting louder than the rest.

There was no medical team to greet them.

The adrenaline instantly seemed to dull your soreness and nausea as you sprang into action, snatching up your first aid kit, a small red duffel bag that you’d always kept for emergencies. Perhaps it was overkill to have it here at the Avengers Facility, but you were still in the process of unpacking and you hadn’t yet decided what to do with it.

The trip downstairs seemed to take just seconds before you were outside, the chunky heels of your boots ripping into the soft grass as you ran to their location.

Natasha was the first to spot you sprinting across the field in the darkness. Their communications array had been damaged during the mission, and they hadn’t been able to call ahead for medical. Clint had sustained a deep wound to his thigh, a gunshot, and of course someone hadn’t replenished the Quinjet’s first aid kit. While his injury wasn’t a matter of life or death, it was severe enough that the tensions had been high amidst the team’s return to the compound. Add that to the fact that the mission had been a complete and utter failure, and everyone was at each other’s throats. Even Steve hadn’t been able to keep the peace.

As Natasha pushed the stretcher toward the building, her voice rang clear over the argument as she called over to you, “Gunshot wound, right thigh.”

You slammed your bag down at the bottom of the stretcher and then hopped atop it in one fluid motion, settling yourself above Clint’s lower legs. This allowed your friend and one other person you didn’t recognize to continue pushing the stretcher along. In the heat of the moment, you’d spotted Steve among the team but you were too focused on Clint’s injury to care. Your apologies and embarrassment from last night would have to wait.

“For fuck’s sake,” you snapped, ripping into the first aid kit for supplies, “Quit waving your dicks around, and—” you nodded at another guy you didn’t recognize, “put some pressure on it, would you?”

He quickly did as you asked, pressing his gloved hand against Clint’s wound to stop the bleeding.

“Sorry, kid,” Clint winced but his tone was playful, “I’m a little busy here.”

It had been probably six months since you’d last seen him, and he looked like hell – not that being shot helped any. You weren’t as close to him as Natasha, but the two of you had a good working relationship and you’d always trusted him to have your back. Tonight, you had his.

You grinned down at him and popped the cap to some sterile solution. “Come on, Barton, don’t tell me you’re getting too old for this.”

He let out a soft snort at your attitude. "Of course not."

Then he hissed as you squirted the solution into his wound.

Tearing open a packet of gauze with your teeth, you glanced over at Steve. “I take it things didn’t go too well.”

Steve was walking alongside the stretcher as the last man in the group radioed in about the incident, finally having enough reception now that they were on the ground. He met your eyes for a moment, and then he looked away, staring straight ahead. A muscle ticked in his jaw before he tersely answered your question, “Sure didn’t."

He blamed himself for this. If he'd done his job properly, it never would have happened. Still, seeing you there, seeing your determined face, made him feel like everything was going to be alright. Your very presence was a balm, and watching you sass Barton and the rest of his team reminded him of the many situations the two of you had once survived together.

You easily noticed Steve's tense demeanour but forced yourself to file it away for later. There were more pressing matters to address, so you brought the gauze to Clint’s wound and eyeballed the guy who was putting pressure on it for a moment. He immediately lifted his hand just long enough for you to slide it under, before he replaced his hand and added a bit more pressure when you made a small gesture to indicate as much. Then you did the same with another couple of pieces, ensuring the wound was fully packed.

Steve very much liked the fact that you were able to command respect with a single look. It wasn’t often, but when the shit hit the fan, it was clear that you knew what you were doing. He’d seen it before, the way people gravitated toward you and put their trust in you to take care of a bad situation. This was one of those times, and he found himself doing the same.

“Stay with me, Barton,” you barked, snapping your fingers in front of his face. It looked like he was starting to go into shock, if his pale skin and unfocused eyes were any indication. “Listen to me. Come on.”

Clint grunted, but he didn’t respond any more than that. You were in the building, now, being wheeled toward what you assumed was the medical wing. The lighting here was much brighter, and you could immediately tell that his pupils were dilated. That wasn’t a good sign. You leaned over more to gently palpate his scalp, feeling for any sign that he may have hit his head. Sure enough, you found a large bump and took in a sharp breath, doing your best to keep him conscious.

When you lifted your eyes to peer ahead, you saw that the medical team was finally starting to arrive, and you sat back on your heels to address them.

“GSW, upper right thigh. Single entry point, no exit. Bullet’s still in there.” Then you added grimly, “Possible TBI.”

Natasha’s eyes immediately shot to you. She wasn't a doctor, but even she knew the lingo. Clint had been just fine on the way back to the compound, but you'd just said that he might have a brain injury.

“Got it,” the doctor, a small Asian woman, told you and you hopped down from the stretcher, slinging your half-zipped duffel back over your shoulder. “We’ll keep you posted.”

You nodded as she and her team wheeled Clint to the operating room. Then you released the long, unsteady breath you didn’t realize you were holding. The rest of the group had taken a step back, and a couple of them started to take seats nearby, in order to wait it out – but not Natasha or Steve. No, they stood with you.

“How serious is it?” Natasha asked you quietly, staring down the hallway where Clint had been taken. You knew that she wanted the truth, not fluff.

“Not good. He must have hit his head pretty hard.” When she started to chew her lip anxiously, taking in the information you provided, you placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “He’ll survive, Nat. He’ll make it through.”

Steve’s voice drew your attention away from her. “How did you know?”

"About what?"

“His head,” he clarified. “He was talking to us just fine. He seemed fine until we got here. How did you know?”

“His pupils. And the huge knot back here.” You gestured to the back of your head, and then crossed your arms to address the root of the issue. “The hell were you guys even up to? Why wasn’t his wound dressed? Where was medical?”

Steve didn’t look too pleased with your observations. “Comms were shot out. We couldn’t call ahead.”

“Don’t forget about the bastard who didn’t replenish the first aid kit,” Natasha spat angrily. “If I ever find out who it was, they’re dead.”

You didn’t blame her, but part of the blame fell on them, too. Someone should have double checked that it had been stocked prior to the mission, along with the rest of their supplies - but it would be crass to mention that right now. Instead, you silently waited with them until Clint was out of surgery.

---

The sun was just starting to rise when you finally heard some news: Clint had made it through, just like you all were hoping for. While the doctors were concerned about his head injury, from what they could tell it was relatively minor but they unfortunately wouldn’t know for sure until he woke up. He would still be out for the next few hours, and no visitors would be permitted until then – so you, Steve, and Natasha slowly made your way back to the main building where you prepared a simple breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast.

For the most part, it had gone uneaten. None of you had an appetite. Instead, the three of you were sitting around the kitchen table in complete and utter silence.

Natasha had perched herself at the edge of her seat, elbows resting on the table with her hands clasped in front of her worried face. Steve, on the other hand, was leaning back against the backrest of the chair, arms crossed, jaw set.

It hadn’t been a good day.

The fabric of your shirt stuck unpleasantly to your skin as you slowly peeled back your bloodied sleeves. What's worse was that you’d already washed your hands three times and Clint’s blood still remained under your fingernails. This wasn’t a memory that you’d forget anytime soon. You’d been certified as a field medic a couple of years ago, and only a handful of times had it actually bothered you to use your training like this.

Steve watched as you anxiously picked at your nails, your lips pressed into a grim line. His voice was gravelly when he said, “Thank you.”

You met his eyes briefly, and then you looked away, back at your hands. “You don't need to thank me. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there when it happened.”

“That’s not on you,” Natasha said quietly, barely above a whisper. She knew your history, your struggles - why you hadn’t been back in the field for over a year. You'd made a choice, and she didn’t blame you for it. Not after what you’d experienced.

“Yeah, it is,” you argued. “I should have been there.”

This time, the silence that befell the three of you was uncomfortably tense.

You were making the same basic mistake as last time, after the very incident that took you out of the field to begin with. You were stuck on the what-ifs. You blamed yourself for not being able to do more, and it was especially stupid now because you hadn’t even been on the mission. There was nothing you could have done. Instead, you were making this entire situation about yourself and that made you feel even worse.

Maybe it was a bit presumptuous of you to assume that you’d even be able to keep up with them in the field. They were Avengers, after all, although that didn’t change the fact that Clint had been wounded and left without a lick of medical assistance until the team arrived back at the compound. It was only by chance that you just happened to overhear their arrival.

“Come with us next time.”

Your head immediately shot up and you looked over at Steve, feeling a mix of emotions as you processed what he said. He wanted you to come along on their next mission. Captain America wanted you to join him.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek as you considered his offer, at least until you realized the path you were going down. Then you couldn’t even believe that you were even considering it at all. Not after what you’d been through. No, you couldn’t do this to yourself again.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

It was a simple question, but you bristled at it. He knew why. He must have. If Wanda had known your history, there was no doubt in your mind that he did, too - and when Natasha shot him a look of warning that plainly said not to press the issue, it only confirmed your suspicions.

You winced, then, and glanced back down at your fingers to find that you’d just ripped at a hangnail. If you kept this up, your fingertips would be raw and bleeding by the end of the night. It wasn’t worth your mental health to do this again. You stopped picking and instead crossed your arms around yourself, both to prevent yourself from doing it again and to protect yourself from this conversation.

“The last time I was out in the field, a lot of people died. Children.” A lump formed in your throat at the memory, and you couldn’t bring yourself to even mention your partner. Instead, your tone became more heated, irate as you rounded on him, “But you knew that already, didn’t you, Steve? Why would you even ask me that?”

In that moment, Steve knew that you couldn’t see the good you had done, not really. The facts were there – you’d kept two children safe, and saved countless more by rendering aid to whatever survivors you could find – but you refused to see that. All you could focus on were the lives that had been lost. What stood out to him the most was how you didn’t even acknowledge that yours had nearly been one of them.

His voice was soft, not accusatory, when he followed your question with one of his own. “Why did you come here?”

“To bring down Hydra,” you replied automatically. That had been your mission since Tony had pulled you and those two little girls from the debris on that fateful day, and you wouldn’t stop until you succeeded. You had come here, to the Avengers compound, because he’d offered you a place to stay in exchange for your assistance in finishing Hydra off for good.

“I didn’t ask for your assignment, Agent,” Steve said sharply, and your back immediately straightened in reflex to the authority in his voice. “I want to know why you’re here.”

As you stared into his striking blue eyes, you felt a bit unsettled and anxiously brought your hands back atop the table. Your clammy skin stuck unpleasantly to the wood. It sounded like he was asking the same question in two different ways, but your answer clearly wasn’t the one he was seeking. He wanted to know something else, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Then it hit you.

Even after everything that had happened, you still couldn’t seem to run away. You’d seen too much death, too many horrors throughout your career and despite it all, you continued to fight. Even if it was from behind a desk, you continued to find yourself in the thick of it, just in a different way.

Just like tonight. Tonight you had, without hesitation, gone back out in the field.

A literal field.

It was that sudden realization that made you start picking at your nails again, but Natasha gently placed her hand atop yours and you turned your eyes to her. Her kind, reassuring smile was what helped you reach a decision. It was time.

“I want to help,” you answered finally, looking back at Steve with fierce determination. “Put me to work, Captain.”

---

Tags: @jennmurawski13, @hermionesalvatore84, @patzammit, @fairytaleprincess8314, @isysen

Part Five

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #steve x you #captain america x you #captain america #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #avengers #in your atmosphere

[sswwimagine]

A Baby? || George Weasley

Original Post: on ssimagines

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 1523

Warnings: swearing, unplanned (teen) pregnancy, No editing really.

Request:  Can I get 43, 50, and 101 for pre-war George Weasley please? Thank You! Love your writing❤

Prompts:  43. “Do you think it’s possible that I…might be… pregnant? ”

                 50. “You got her pregnant?! What were you thinking?”

                 101. “Fuck…I feel I’ve been hit by a car.”

Note: I didn’t want them to still be at hogwarts so its like just after the war has started takes place just after the start of the sixth book when everyone else had already gone back to hogwarts. They are still living at the burrow and are 17. You are also a halfblood with your mother being a muggle.  

This would have been a great howler prompt, but I honestly didn’t feel very comfortable putting them at hogwarts for this one.

This is obviously already been posted, but since I started my smaller blogs, I wanted all my work for each fandom in one place. Instead of just reblogging everything I figured that I would repost it.

Request/Taglist

Masterlist

You finished emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. You had puked at least once every day of the past two week with no real explanation. You were starting to get sick of it, no pun intended. 

“Fuck…I feel I’ve been hit by a car,” you said as you stood up off the floor and flushed the toilet moving to the sink. George, your fiancé, moved to stand in the doorway of the bathroom.  The look on his face said it all. Keeping your eye on him, you prepared to brush the acidic vomit taste out of your mouth. 

“I’m sorry you haven’t been feeling well lately,” he said as came in and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

You responded with a grunt with a toothbrush in your mouth. George nuzzled his nose into your neck as he just stood behind you watching. It was comforting being so close to him. He had this way of just setting you at ease. 

“Do you have any plans today?” you said. Leaning forward out of his grasp, you spit into the sink.

“Just working,” he said with a sigh. “Fred was talking about staying late to work on some new product, but I told him I’d have to check with you first.”

“You should. I’m busy today anyway. Molly and I have an exciting day planned where she’s going to teach me how to make a sweater” You rinsed your toothbrush off and placed it back were you kept it next to George’s. 

You loved Molly; she was like a (second) mother to you and had been since you and George started dating your fifth year. When you graduated from Hogwarts, George had proposed to you, and with the war looming so close to your home in London, the two of you thought it best you moved into the burrow with them and spent your days with her. Spending so much time together had just made you closer to her. 

Turning around in his arms you looked at the face of the man you loved. He had opened the joke shop just a few months ago, and it was doing so well. The more products meant more variety and more customers which was great for the both of you. It meant that you would be able to get married sooner and get your own place and eventually have kids. That was the future you wanted with George, but it was something that you had decided to wait on for a better time. One without a war where you were financially stable. 

“Let me get dressed and then let’s go down to breakfast,” you said pulling him out of the bathroom and down the hall to the Percy’s old room which you had commandeered since moving in. A small smile came to his face as he followed behind you. 

George closed the door behind him and sat on your bed as you dug around in the dresser for a shirt and pants to wear. After finding something that sort of matched, you moved to the mirror that you had propped up against the wall. You quickly changed your pants hoping that George’s attention was elsewhere. Every time George was in your room when you changed, he would get a but distracted. It often times ended with you both your bed, and currently, you were trying to avoid that. 

In the mirrors reflection you could see George’s nose buried in a book that your muggle mother had sent you. You let out a soft chuckle at your fiancé before taking off your shirt. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over your stomach. You had a thought over the past two week that kept coming back to you. 

“Do you think it’s possible that I…might be… pregnant?” your voice was barely above a whisper. George wasn’t meant to hear it, but from the way his head shot up from his book to you, you could tell that he had.

“Are you serious?” he asked. George closed the book and stood up from the bed. He rushed to stand behind you and placed a hand on your exposed stomach.

“I don’t know, maybe,” you said lacing your fingers in his. 

He placed a kiss on your shoulder and moved his way up your neck. Before he could take it any further, you pulled away. Another chuckle came out of your mouth at the drop of the goofy smile that was painted on his face. You pulled the shirt you had picked out over your head.

George had a gleam in his eye as he snuck up behind him and wrapped his arms around your waist. He picked you up and threw you onto the bed. Laughter poured out of both of you as George landed on you. 

He plastered your face with small kisses and tickled you. You called out for him to stop, but he persisted. After a minute, he fell down beside you, and you settled into his arms. His hand came to rest over your stomach. There was a look in his eyes that you had never seen before. It was soft and full of hope. “Would you want that?” you asked him.

“What, a baby?” George said. “With you, of course.”

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips. George’s stomach rumbled. For the fourth time that morning you let a giggle escape your lips.

“Come on,” you said standing up and pulling him with you. “Let’s go eat.”

The two of you sat at the table with Fred and their parents. Everyone else was away at school leaving the house quite empty during the day. You weren’t sure how Molly did it without you. 

“How you’d you sleep, Y/N?” Arthur asked as he shoveled eggs int his house. “Pretty good,” you said.

“Are you still having stomach issues?” Arthur followed up. Molly’s ears perked up awaiting your answer. 

“Yea, I found her puking again this morning,” George said rubbing circles into your back. You gave his father a small smile as you brought a piece of toast to your lips and nibbled a bit off it.

“Maybe you should go to St. Mungo’s,” Fred offered.  You looked to your fiancé and to his twin trying to gauge if he was joking or not, but the impassive look gave you nothing. Molly cleared her throat as she set her cu of orange juice down on the table. 

“That wouldn’t be necessary,” Molly said with a sweet smile. “It’s just morning sickness. It will pass.”

Your eyes widened at the words that just slipped past Molly’s lips. Beside you, George choked on his toast and Fred coughed up some of his orange juice. You laid your hands palm down on table as if to ground you. George’s hand still sat on your back, but it was no longer rubbing circles there. 

No one spoke for a long time as you just shifted your eye line around to see everyone’s shocked expressions. There was a small smug smile on Molly’s face. “What?” Arthur said at last.

“Y/N is pregnant,” Molly said returning to her food. 

“How do you know?” Fred was baffled at his mother’s statement. You could see the wheels turning in his said. 

“A mother just knows,” she said offering you a smile. She placed her hand over yours. There was another moment of silence.

Arthur pushed his chair away from the table letting the screech of the chair against the floor echo around the room. He stood up and looked at George. 

“George, a word,” his words were tight and hard, something you had never heard from him before. 

Your gaze snapped to George who stood up. He nervously rubbed his hands against his pants and followed his father out of the house. You could still see them from the window. Arthur didn’t look happy, and the look on George’s face told you he knew it. 

“Well, this should be interesting,” Fred said with a smile as he leaned over to hit your arm lightly.

Molly smiled before turning around in her seat to watch as well. 

“You got her pregnant?! What were you thinking?” Arthur yelled at his son. At first George slunk back, but after a moment, his shoulders rolled back and he stood tall in front of his father. 

“I love her,” his voice was confident, “this doesn’t change that.”

Arthur took a deep breath. He held his face in his hands. It was clear that he was trying to gather his thoughts. 

“George, I know how you feel about her,” Arthur was calmer this time. “You know how much your mother and I love her, but George this is the worst possible time. There is a war on the horizon. You are just children. There is so much against you. Are you ready for that?”

“Of course,” George didn’t even waste a beat. “She is my whole world. I want this with her. Even if it’s a little early.”

Those words were enough for you. They were everything you could ever hope for.  

#george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley fluff #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley oneshot #george weasley one shot #george weasley fanfic #george weasley angst #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter and the deathly hallows #deathly hallows

[maureenwritesblr]

untitled #2

Summary: no summary as of yet.

A/N: so it begins...

We slowly made our way to what they called the Mothership. It is essentially the training ship where all the recruits are brought after they first enlist. We are supposed to live there for the first five months of our training.

"God, I feel like I'm going to puke." Tanya says anxiously.

"Stop it. You'll be fine." I tell her.

"Okay, okay.." She says quietly, closing her eyes firmly.

I looked over at her sympathetically.

"Take some deep breaths, okay? I'm right here." I told her calmly.

I wished I could rub her back or something, to try and help soothe her nerves. The straps kept us tightly in place. I can't blame her for being nervous. The shuttle was tossing and shaking around, sometimes violently, all I did was close my eyes. Eventually, the ship found itself in the hangar. The straps immediately detached as the blast door of the shuttle opened. I got up, almost falling over from the change in gravity. I extended my hand to Tanya. She grabbed it tightly. I helped her up. She wobbled around the first few seconds but slowly regained her balance. We all made our way out of the shuttle and into the central hanger bay. I slowly gazed around. There were several other shuttles stationed inside, and I also noticed other groups of recruits. I'd say there would have been at least three hundred and fifty of us. Suddenly, a blue-colored slip is thrust into my hands.

"Line up in front of the officer holding your matching colored slip!" Yelled a short man who was handing out the small plastic cards.

I quickly looked over at Tanya. Hoping she had the same color card as me. She lifted a yellow card. I shook my head. Before I could make my way over to her, a man's chest blocks my view. I look up and notice a familiar face, James. He smiled down at me, holding up a matching blue card.

"Looks like we're on the same squad." He said in a cheery tone.

"True that." I agreed.

"What'd you think of the ride over?" He asked.

"I-It was good." I said, slowly trying to peer behind him.

"You looking for someone?" He asked with a quizzical look painted on his face.

"Yeah... my friend. Short, red hair," Before I could finish my sentence, she appeared next to James.

She shoved a blue card in my face. I tilted my head to the side and looked at her.

"And how did you get this?" I asked.

"I may or may not have won a rock, paper, scissors game for it." She giggled playfully.

"I wouldn't doubt it." I smiled, ruffling her hair.

I introduced James to Tanya before making my way over to the officer with a blue card in hand. The loud-mouthed man took us on a small tour of the ship and its facilities. He explained our routines. Wed be waking up every morning at seven am, sharp. We would then go to the mess hall along with all the other recruits and eat breakfast. We would have physical training from eight until twelve. Lunch, then we would have weapons and tactical training from two until four. We had personal recreational time from four until six, dinner, then bed. Repeat every day. After some time we finally finished, he leads us to the dorm area. I didn't share a room with Tanya. We sadly weren't able to choose our dorm-mates. I walked into the cramped living space. There were two beds, two dressers, two desks, and a fluorescent wall light illuminating the room. It seemed my roommate hadn't arrived yet, so I went ahead and sat on the bed on the right side of the room. The mattress was firm, the pillow was quite lovely, and the blankets were thick.

"Hey there." spoke a strong but feminine voice in the doorway.

My head snapped to the source of the sound, a tall, golden-haired girl with icy blue eyes walked in the room. She sat on the bed across from me and extended her hand for me to shake.

"Looks like we're going to be roommates, the names Elizabeth, but you can call me Liz." She told me.

I shook her hand firmly.

"Luna. Nice to meet you. Are you from Corriel too?" I asked.

"Likewise, and no. I'm from Maaia." She told me.

I should have noticed that. The Maaians are known for the majority of their population having striking light blue eyes. We talked about her people and my own. She tells me that her planet is simply beautiful, unlike my own. Liz is a strong woman; it seems. She knows a lot about nature and science. She used to study the environments on different planets but realized that there was a cause more important. Her dad served too. I guess we have one thing in common. I checked my watch. Twelve Thirty. Soon enough, we were called out of our rooms and back into the hallway. 

"I'm sure you're all hungry after the tour. Hopefully, you were paying enough attention and remember where the mess hall is because you kids are on your own. Now go get some grub." The man clasped his hands tightly and nodded at us. 

All the recruits looked around for a moment before heading down the hallway. I stayed back a second to meet up with Tanya. I greeted her with a quick hug before we got behind the others. 

"So, what'd you think of your roommate?" I asked. 

"She's pretty quiet. Her name is Kailey." She told me, sighing.

"Well, my roommate turned out to be pretty cool," I told her, nudging her arm playfully.

"Not as cool as you, of course." I beamed. 

Tanya smiled at my comment. I asked for her opinion on the tour. She told me that she thought everything was quite neat. She had never seen a ship so advanced before. Before enlisting, Tanya had worked on many Corrielan warships as a medic. She's already seen her fair share of ships and space. The mess hall was a large room with high ceilings. All the walls were gray and plain, rows of high-school cafeteria-like tables filled the room. We got into a long line and got ourselves a tray. The food was in the form of small nutrient bars, small but filling. They were dry and tasteless, but at least it was something. 

"So whaddya think?" A boy asked, holding a bar. 

"Not too bad, I suppose." I answered. 

"Wells, at your service." He nodded politely. 

"Luna and this is my good friend Tanya here." I gestured beside me.

Tanya smiled and waved shyly. I looked over at her.

"You think he's cute?" I asked her telepathically. 

"Get outta my head, meanie." She responded through her thoughts.

I chuckled to myself as she nudged my arm lightly. 

"What's so funny?" Wells asked curiously. 

"What? Oh, nothing." I smiled while answering his question.

"Mhm, for sure." He narrowed his eyes at me playfully before smiling. 

We talked with Wells, along with two other recruits he had introduced us to. Liam and Bella. It turns out those two were twins too, a rare sighting these days. Lunch was soon finished, and all the recruits were walking around the ship. Tanya and I found our way to the lounge. Several sofas and tables scattered around the room, along with some pool tables and a drink bar, robot-controlled, of course. 

"You go ahead. I'll grab drinks." I tell Tanya.

She heads off to find a vacant place to sit as I walk over to the small bar. I lean over the counter top, waiting for a chance to order. Eventually, the robot comes to my side of the bar, its human form but still metal and unemotional. 

"What would you like?" It asked with a monotone voice. 

"One murriel juice and ice water, please." I requested.

I looked around the room before sensing a familiar presence to the side of me. I glanced to my right, my eyes settling on James. 

"Can't seem to get rid of you, can I?" I asked, smirking up at him. 

He looked down at me, shaking his head. 

"Nope." He joked.

There was silence for a few moments.

"You could always come to sit with Tanya and me." I suggested, tilting my head slightly. 

"You sure? Wouldn't wanna bother you both." He said before turning to order his beverage. 

"Couldn't bother me even if you tried." I winked, grabbing Tanya and I's drinks. 

I felt James smile as I returned to my friend. I shook my head and smiled to myself, hoping that he wouldn't become too much of a distraction for me in the coming weeks. I took my seat on the firm sofa next to Tanya. I handed her the juice. 

"One murriel juice, for the lady." I said with a broad smile. 

"Thank you, miss." She joked. 

We talked about our goals and expectations for our upcoming training. I felt as if it wouldn't be too hard for me; being physically enhanced gives me an advantage that others don't. Some would call me a super soldier, but my enhancements were passed down through my family. I was worried about Tanya. She's a small girl, only five four. She's had minor physical training. 

"Hey, I was thinking, tomorrow during our rec hour, that I could take you down to the gym." I told her. 

"Why?" She questioned, furrowing her eyebrows. 

"I don't know. I thought I could teach you a few things, help you get ahead." I said tentatively, not wanting it to come out the wrong way.

"That actually sounds like a good idea. Thanks." She thanked me.

We put our glasses up for a moment. I looked down for a second, trying to imagine all of the possible outcomes of what will come next. It seems like we'll have to find that one out as we go. 

To be continued

#writer #wrtiting #wrtblr #help #war #scifi #action #space #new #imdyinghere #haha funny #imgonnapassout

[confessionsofamovieaddict]

The Edge Of Seventeen (2016)

This is one of those rare movies, that succeed on almost every level, where each character, scene, costume, and joke make a movie worth watching.

I have easily watched this movie over a thousand times. Every time I watch this movie I notice new things and see it from a different perspective.

Now lets get into the informational part of this movie review and yes, there will be spoilers the whole movie will be spoilered.

Synopsis:

Nadine Franklin (Hailee Steinfeld) is an awkward 17-year-old high school student who quickly walks to the classroom of her teacher Mr. Bruner (Woody Harrelson). She is flustered and tells Bruner she's going to kill herself and that she needs someone to listen to her.  He then quips that he was writing his own suicide note, since all he wants is some peace and quiet during his lunch break.

Nadine takes us to the beginning of her story. At the age of 7 (Lina Renna), she noticed how much more popular and well-liked her older brother Darian (Christian Michael Cooper) was, to the point where it felt like their mother Mona (Kyra Sedgwick) favored him over Nadine. Her father Tom (Eric Keenleyside) was the only one who made Nadine feel secure.Nadine gets picked on by some mean girls at school and feels alone until she meets Krista (Ava Grace Cooper). Krista is holding a pet caterpillar and gives it some water, and then she asks Nadine if she wants to be the caterpillar's other mother. Nadine agrees, but she later accidentally suffocates it in her pencil case. Still, Nadine and Krista quickly become best friends. While Krista's parents argue, Nadine always had her back. At the age of 13 is when Nadine states some "really fucked up shit" happened. She becomes insecure about her looks, especially since Darian (Blake Jenner) only got more attractive. Krista (Haley Lu Richardson) tries to assure Nadine she looks fine.

While getting burgers with her dad, Tom suffers a fatal heart attack and crashes his car. His death devastated the family. In the present at age 17, Nadine is at school with Krista when she spots Nick Mossman (Alexander Calvert), a bad boy fresh out of juvie. She becomes sexually attracted to him. In Mr. Bruner's class, Nadine meets Erwin Kim (Hayden Szeto), an equally awkward but friendly boy that has a crush on her. When the girls go back to Nadine's house, they learn that Mona is leaving for the night to see a man she met online. Nadine and Krista get drunk and fool around while Darian has friends come over to swim. Nadine gets too drunk and she pukes in the toilet with Krista helping her. Nadine makes self-deprecating comments before passing out on the floor. Krista goes downstairs to find Darian cleaning up dog pee off the carpet, and they start to make small talk. Nadine wakes up with a hangover. She crawls out of the bathroom and hears giggling coming from Darian's room. To her horror, he and Krista are in bed, and she's giving him a handjob. All three are mortified, but especially Nadine. Nadine is still pissed at Krista later in the day, to the point where her frustration starts to bother Krista. She tells Nadine about a party she's going to with Darian, so Nadine opts to join them. At the party, Krista goes off with some other girls to play beer pong, leaving Nadine alone. She goes outside and meets a drunk girl that compares her and Darian to Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny Devito's characters in "Twins." Nadine calls Mona to go pick her up. She tells her daughter that the man she met online is married, and she received an email from his wife. Nadine calls Erwin to hang out. They go to a carnival and ride the Ferris wheel. Erwin tries to go for a kiss but he gets shot down since his timing was bad. Nadine later compares Erwin to a nice old man to make things even more embarrassing. On Monday, Krista approaches Nadine, but she's still mad at Krista for going off with other girls at the party. When Krista mentions that Darian asked her to be his girlfriend and go to prom with him, Nadine delivers an ultimatum - Krista must choose her or Darian. Krista refuses, but Nadine pushes it by saying he'll dump her for someone hotter. Krista leaves her. When Nadine gets home, she starts to argue with Darian over his new relationship. Mona tries to intervene but Nadine just leaves to take a walk. She gets a slushee and then goes to Petland where Nick works. She goes in and tries to talk to him, though she comes off as kind of weird. Nadine tries to talk to Mr. Bruner, though he doesn't seem interested in her problems. When he makes a crack that nobody likes her, Nadine flips out and starts insulting him and his profession. He is unfazed and gives her half his cookie and says she's his favorite student to calm her down. Nadine calls Erwin again and asks if she can go over and swim in his pool. He says yes and gets super excited. She goes over and is surprised to see that Erwin's family is wealthy. Nadine jokingly asks Erwin if he wants to have sex, which upsets him. Later, he shows her some drawings he made and talks about his project for an upcoming student film festival. Mona takes Nadine to school now that she isn't talking to Krista. Nadine makes a big deal about being dropped off close to Krista, so Mona brings Nadine to work with her. While there, Nadine gets bored and starts acting out. Mona tells Nadine that her father would be very disappointed in her. Nadine swipes Mona's car keys and leaves. Nadine goes to a playground and starts to write a long, impulsive message to Nick about how she wants to do sexual things with him. She then tries to delete the message, but accidentally sends it. Nadine freaks out and goes to show Mr. Bruner (which is where the movie began). Although she begs him to help her do something, he just gives her money for a frozen yogurt. Nadine gets her yogurt and listens to multiple angry voicemails from her mom. Nick sends her a message since she put her number in the post, and he invites her to hang out. Excited, Nadine runs home to get dolled up before Mona gets home in a cab. Nadine goes on her date with Nick, which just ends up being him taking her to an empty parking lot. They start making out and he starts groping her, but Nadine has second thoughts and tells him to get off. She wants to get to know Nick, but he is uninterested. When she's afraid he'll leave, she starts kissing him, but she pulls away again when he tries to make a move. Nadine leaves the car and starts crying. Mona calls Darian while he's on a date with Krista. He rushes home to find Mona grabbing Nadine's clothes off the floor and saying she'll donate them. Darian tries to keep her calm. Nadine gets picked up by Mr. Bruner and takes her to his house where she meets his wife and infant son. Darian and Krista show up at the house to pick up Nadine, but she refuses to go anywhere with them. Darian gets fed up and confronts her about her attitude. Nadine says that Darian only cares about himself and being seen as a hero to their mom by bringing her home safely. Darian hits back that it is stressful for him that Mona is always counting on him to be the man of the house, how he has to apply to schools nearby since he's worried about what will happen to the family if he's gone, and how he can't be with Krista without ruining his relationship with Nadine. Darian leaves, so Mr. Bruner brings Nadine home. Nadine goes to Darian's room and apologizes for her behavior. She then tearfully expresses to him how she has always hated who she is and how she acts, and how she worries she can never change it.  Nadine wakes up early the next morning to go to Erwin's film festival. Darian and Krista are downstairs about to have breakfast. Darian wishes her a good day, and Nadine reciprocates. Krista asks Nadine if she can call her later, and she says yes. At the film festival, Erwin presents his film, which is about an alien who tries to win over a girl he likes, but she doesn't return his feelings. A giant monster takes her, so the little alien goes to rescue her by causing a huge rock to crush the monster. When the girl tries to return her affections, the alien has moved on and is with other gorgeous alien women. After the show, Nadine gives Erwin flowers. She says she knows the movie was about her, but he denies it. She then feels embarrassed, because she looks like someone who thinks everything is about them, but Erwin says he was just joking. He then brings Nadine over to introduce her to his friends.

This is where the movie ends. I got the synopsis mostly from IMDb. 

As you can see the movie’s base is really basic, but the emotional touches and original turns make this movie great. Sometimes it even feels like you’re in it, you really get attached.

Characters /cast

Now for the characters and cast. Some of the characters really annoy the hell out of me, but that’s okay.

Nadine Franklin (Hailee Steinfeld) First and foremost, Nadine is real, not like she’s a real person, but she’s just like any normal non-populair teenager. Nothing about her is glamourised. She faces difficulties that everyone has faced. And yet, it’s not portrayed like mean girls or high school musical. It’s not fake. She is a thoroughly developed character and she’s  a real human being on screen. She’s connected with the watchers in a relatable way. Nadine experiences character development through the whole movie, just like you do in real life. She has ups and downs with her family, she makes and loses friends and she finds love. I can’t write this character description without saying that Hailee Steinfeld is an elite actress and that’s just shown in how well Nadine Franklin is portrayed, it’s not only how well the script it’s written, it’s also how Hailee Steinfeld put her own personality in it.

To be honest all the other characters are just side characters and are only importent to the story because they are part of the development of Nadine, so I will give them short mentions.

Krista (Haley Lu Richardson) Krista is one of those characters that if you think of them that you only see bad things. She dumped her Nadine, who she was bestfriends with since she was 7, for Nadine’s older brother Darian. Like what kind of person would do that? As you can tell krista is one of those characters that bothered me the whole movie. Darian (Blake Jenner) He’s the brother of Nadine. He outshines Nadine on every level. He blames Nadine for all his stress. I have nothing more to say about Darian, he’s pretty superficial. Mona (Kyra Sedgwick) Mona is just a Karen that’s hiding in a “I’m a cool mom” suit. Once things get to heated for her she loses control. Like that time when Nadine annoyed her and she told Nadine her father would be dissapointed in her. She reminds me of my own mom, cute right? Mr. Bruner (Woody Harrelson) Mr. Bruner is the person I aspire to be when I become a teacher, well besides his bad teaching. Mr. Bruner his humour is a perfect mix between dark en dry humour. His way of communicating is just superior. Erwin (Hayden Szeto) Erwin reminds Nadine of a nice old man. And I fully agree, he is wise and playful. His talent is drawing/animating. He draws original things like aliens.

Grading / Things I Wanted To Say

Okay so you may have noticed that this movie is catered to an audience that has gone/is in high school. So sorry for my home schooled people, this might not be the movie for you.  Most of the characters have something special about them, it can be that they’re annoying or that their talent is being amazing at communicating. The plot has some bits and pieces that could have been written better.

My overal rating is a 8,9. If you would like a more detailed answer of why I would give it an 8,9 just message me, or however you can contact me. I hope you liked me review, I really do. I have put my precious homework time into reviewing a movie, and if you ask me I was way more productive in making this review than making any of my essays. Au revoir.

#movie #film #the edge of seventeen #hailee steinfeld #goofy #review #film review #movie review #english #cool #follow #like #comment #im boring lol

[a-marlene-s]

Giveaway Prize: 1st Place the 2000-word one-shot!

Winner: @ladylucina28

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: Family day...

Au: Everybody lives!!!!

Couple: Fred Weasley x Hermione Granger

Word Count: 2030

-.-

Fred…

Fred…

Fred.

FRED!!!

Fred Weasley woke up with a start, he flung himself upwards clutching his nightshirt right above his heart. He reached over in hopes of looking for his partner but he came up empty. Fear overwhelmed at how cold the other side of the bed felt. Flinging the bed sheets off himself, Fred did not bother with his slippers before leaving the room with wand in hand that he got from the night table.

Walking through the home, Fred took note of all the curtains were pulled back to let in natural sunlight. This did put some ease for him, but not enough to put away his wand. He continued his way through his home, checking his children’s rooms to see they were nowhere in sight. Panic over took him and Fred quickly ran through his home as he wanted to find his family.

As Fred paced down the stairs, he heard giggles that was followed by familiar laughter that brought back his sense of peace. He hid his wand into his pants pocket and proceeded down steps and as he did, the sound of laughter only grew. On the final step, he took pause as the it got quiet and Fred had to strain his ears to hear whatever was being said. Then a burst of laughter filled the home and he couldn’t help but laugh along to it.

Continuing on, Fred made it to the kitchen to see his family enjoying breakfast. Hermione is helping their youngest, Clover with cutting up what appears to be pancakes for her. While the twins, Millie and Tillie are fighting over which persevere is better. This… this is something he always looked forward to seeing every morning and would not trade it for anything in the world.

“Morning, did we wake you?” Hermione spoke up, breaking Fred out of his thoughts.

Fred couldn’t help but grin. “Here I thought you’d be doing Minister-y work, Minister.”

Hermione could not but smile. She looked over and could tell something was off with her husband, his smile did not quite reach his eyes. He had another nightmare… maintaining her smile to not alarm the children, she pulled out a table and pilled it up with pancakes. “I decided to take the day off. I flued Shacklebolt to take care of things for today. I have the entire day planned out.”

“Oh?” Fred could not believe what he is hearing. The fact that his dear wife, who just also happens to not only be the Minister of Magic, but also the Hermione Granger-Weasley, decided to take a day off… that is huge. Of course, he supports her in all of her endeavors just as much as she supports his, it has been increasingly difficult to have time for themselves and as a family. “What’s the occasion?”

Fred did a quick search of a kitchen, expecting something or another. He paid extra focus on the calendar that placed on the top cabinet to see if anything was happening that day. Nothing. Now this did strike fear within him. Did he forget something?

“Nothing is scheduled for today. I simply wanted time with my family is all.”

“Momma, are we going to Diagon Alley today?” Millie asked excitedly at the aspect of visiting her favorite place in the entire world. “Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!”

“Long as they don’t let out any of those Fanged Frisbees out.” Hermione gave her husband a pointed stare, who in turn, simply looked away and let out an innocent tune. “Fred.”

“Who? Me?” Fred blinked innocently at his wife. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

“No Fanged Frisbees or anything else that could harm the children.” Hermione raised an eyebrow to emphasize her point.

Fred raised his hands in a mock surrender. “I promise to make sure we put away all of those things away. No more surprise haircuts.”

“Good. Now get ready.”

-.-

Never in a million years did Fred ever believe he would have the life he has right now. No, it’s not the fact he is happily married, three loving kids, and running a business with his brother. It is the fact he is living in a muggle neighborhood, right next to his in-laws. He suspects Hermione wanted to live here after everything she had put her parents through during the way. But, he is not one to complain about it.

With Hermione becoming Minister and them taking part of the war, security measures have been placed making the area secured enough they do not need to worry. Still… the fact everytime Fred steps out his front door he could feel Grandmum Granger opening one of her curtains to see what they are doing before closing them shut once more. Yeah, that happens quite often.

“Papa! To the park!” Tillie called out, running out with her sister right at her heels.

“No, to Diagon Alley!” Millie cried out, running after his sister.

“Park!”

“Diagon Alley!”

Fred could not help but smile at the sight of his daughter bickering over what they wanted to do for the day. It reminded so much of his own siblings.

“Girls, we are going to both places, just wait.” Hermione said walking out the door with Clover in her arms. Fred hurried over to take Clover into his arms to carry her and the diaper bag from Hermione while she locked up.

“Mommy, are we going to the park?” Tillie asked her mother, tugging on the diaper bag she is carrying.

“I want to go to Diagon Alley.” Millie pouted, tugging on her mother’s long sweater.

“Girls, girls! Let’s to go the car and we’ll figure out where we are going first!” Fred started to lead the girls to the car giving Hermione enough time to properly lock things up. “Into the muggle car! Muggle car~”

“Fred, don’t call it that. The neighbors.” Hermione shot her husband a look that caused him to give her a sheepish smile. At the smile, she could not help with a smile of her own. “Into the muggle car.”

“Muggle car~”

-.-

“Do you remember when you asked me to the Yule Ball?” Hermione asked out of the blue as she drove her family to muggle London, catching Fred off-guard.

“I remember asking you. I remember not believing the fact you accepted. I remember Harry and Ron ganging up on me. I remember them threatening me over it. Ron looking disappointed and Harry didn’t know what to think or say… besides that, I don’t remember much else.” Fred said, thinking over when he had asked Hermione to the Yule Ball as his date. Not as a friend asking a friend. It was him asking her on a date, a massive on at that.

Hermione accepted and the two have been steady ever since. Sure, they had times when they butted heads. When he and George had dropped out of school after humiliating Umbridge to give an example of a reason they had fought. Luckily for everyone, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes took off for the Weasley Twins and Fred was no longer stuck in the dog house. Or had howlers being sent to him daily.

One of their biggest obstacles the couple had faced by far, were the reputations of the Battle of Hogwarts. Neither one was the same after that, Hermione being in the forefront of it all and Fred doing his best to help any underage witches/wizards out of the castle, both doing their best to save as many as they could. Everything looked to be going their way… until Fred saw a flashing green light.

“You had that nightmare again… didn’t you?” Hermione asked, just low enough for the girls not to hear. Fred’s silence spoke volumes for Hermione. “Have you thought about talking to a professional?”

“And miss the chance to talk to you?” Fred attempted to joke but his voice sounded grimace, even to himself. He took in a deep breath when Hermione gave him a look. “I tried to make an appointment to that one placed you told me about, but I didn’t understand what they were asking of me and that they didn’t have room for me there.”

“Oh! I will talk to my father; I am sure he will talk to Dr. McCoy to schedule you in his office.”

“Isn’t that the guy that gave your mother prune juice under the guise of grape juice?”

“Yes…”

“Heh, I remember him. I like him. Funny fellow.”  

-.-

Hermione and Fred knew they were being watched by Aurors as they eat ice-cream with their children. One of the many perks of being Minister and the constant need to be vigilant. They actually found it rather hilarious for the fact that the two that are supposed to be watching of them are none other than Harry and Ron.

When the two Aurors were not looking, Fred used magic to put Puking Pastilles into their respective ice-creams. “Now… we don’t have to worry about them.”

“What happened to-”

“Uncle Ron-”

“Uncle Harry?”

The twins asked, looking over to see their uncles running out of the shop while looking rather green and holding their mouths.

“They were being noisy.” Fred replied, ignoring the looks Hermione gave him.

“You didn’t have to do that. They’ll probably send someone else to watch over.” Hermione pointed at Fred with a spoonful of ice-cream. Fred stared at the ice-cream before reaching over and gobbled up the ice-cream. “Fred, that was too much! You’ll get brain freeze.”

Fred only gave her a grin before he felt familiar pain began to overwhelm him. “Too much!”

Hermione could only let out a tired sigh before taking a large scoop of ice-cream for her to eat. She ignored Fred’s pout at seeing her able to eat ice-cream without the fear of getting a brain freeze. It also did not help how the twins could also do the same, mocking their father everytime he got a brain freeze everytime he ate too much of his ice-cream.

“Oh, Clover… It looks like it’s just you and I…” Fred sniffled while cooing over his youngest, who is sitting on a baby high chair. However, to his dismay, she had managed to take some of her own ice and pushed it into his nose. “Now I have a nose freeze.”

-.-

“I think… that’s the end of it.” Ron wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He should have seen that coming. Every Auror that has ever been tasked with watching over Minister Granger, they knew there is a massive chance Fred Weasley will use every trick he has under his sleeve to get rid of them. Of course, it is under the pretense if that they are unable to get away from his pranks, then how are they able to protect the Minister? His wife? Yeah… no one ever leaves unscathed. “How did he do that?”

“I don’t know…” Harry heaved out the remainder of his breakfast. “I think he did that to get us out of there. Otherwise he would have used the Fanged Frisbees against us back in the shop.”

“No, he would have used a screaming yo-yo when he caught us sneaking into ‘Wheezes.” Ron reminded him. He reached into his back pocket to take out a mint and offered one to Harry. “Do you think we should have somebody else watch over them?”

“And deal with the paperwork that comes along with it… no thanks.” Harry said, taking a mint and popping it into his mouth. From their spot, they could see the Granger-Weasley family enjoying some ice-cream after a long eventful day of being a family. He could not help but smile at the sight before them. Even from this distance, Harry could see how Fred adores Hermione, Clover, Millie and Tillie.

“I still can’t believe they ended up together…”

“Don’t tell me you are still stewing over it? After all this time?”

“No, I’m not. I just… never thought Fred had feelings for Hermione is all.”

“Hermione loves him because he makes her laugh… and something about his devious side.”

“Ugh… let’s just go already before Fred makes us eat another prank candy.”

#Harry Potter #Hermione Granger #fred weasley #Everybody Lives Au #One-shot

[fanficimagery]

Imagine visiting Spellman Mortuary to make funeral arrangements. You realize the Spellman’s aren’t exactly normal and come to find out you’re more alike than you’d have ever thought.

GIF Credit: Account Deactivated 

Gen Fic X Reader

Standing outside of Baxter High, you await the arrival of one Sabrina Spellman. And in the dreary town of Greendale, she isn't all that hard to miss given she's always wearing something in the color of vibrant red.

When you finally spot her, she's arm in arm with her boyfriend Harvey Kinkle. They're talking to one another, laughing, and you almost feel bad when you step in their path. "Hi. Sorry to bother you guys, but can I have a moment of your time, Sabrina?"

The blonde girl grins and nods, and Harvey excuses himself with a smile after telling his girlfriend he'll wait for her inside. "So what can I help you with?" Sabrina then asks.

"Hi," you sheepishly mumble again. "Uh, my name is Y/N and I'm sorry to ambush you at school, but I have a question about Spellman Mortuary."

"Oh. Okay, shoot."

"Do you guys take walk-ins? Or am I going to have to schedule an appointment? The hospital has been giving me the run-around and took forever to release my mother's body to me since I'm her last of kin, and I finally signed the papers last night. I need to make arrangements for her as soon as possible."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Sabrina tells you. "And to be truthful, my aunts don't usually take walk-ins, but if you call and explain your situation I'm sure they'll make an exception for today after school."

"Yeah. I'll give them a call." Reaching into your back pocket, you pull free your cell. "Can you program the number?"

Sabrina smiles as she takes the phone, she then programming it. Once finished, she hands it back to you. "There you go. My aunts are usually reading the paper right about now, so you can call before classes start. Once again, I'm really sorry for your loss."

"Thank you." Sabrina takes her leave and you're left staring down at your phone. A minute passes, then two, and you finally tap on the number to dial.

Holding the phone to your ear, you listen as it rings on the other end before someone answers. "Spellman Mortuary. Hilda speaking."

"Hi, Hilda," you say. "My name is Y/N Y/L/N and I was wondering if there was a chance I could be penciled in for a visit today? You see, the thing is my mother passed last week. As I'm her only kin and not exactly an adult just quite yet, the hospital wouldn't release her body to me until last night and I need to make arrangements for her as soon as possible. And I might also be wondering if you guys have any payment arrangements?"

"Oh you poor dear. You come in after school and we'll get you squared away."

You heave a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much Ms. Spellman. Now one last question, do you do pick-ups or should I find away to have my mother's body moved to your place?"

"Don't you worry about a thing, dear. All I need you to do is call the hospital as soon as we hang up and inform them we'll be picking up your mother. We'll take care of her and I'll see you after school."

"Sounds good. Once again, thank you so much."

"So precious," she coos. "I am deeply sorry for your loss. See you soon, dearie."

After hanging up with Hilda Spellman, you quickly make a phone call to the hospital to inform them that someone from Spellman Mortuary would be there sometime during the morning or afternoon to pick up your mother. They take note of it and the phone call ends just as the school’s first warning bell rings.

The day was going to be a long one.

After school you make the drive out to Spellman Mortuary. The Spellman's work out of their own home, which isn't too hard to find, and you park next to the cemetery. Climbing out, you then walk up the small pathway to their front porch. And there, sitting on the railing, is a dark skinned guy wearing a thin housecoat atop a purple shirt and even darker purple pants. He has a laptop balancing on one knee and when he spots you he smiles brightly as he lowers the lid of his computer.

"Well aren't you just a darling little witch."

You stumble to a halt, eyes wide. "How'd you know?"

His smile falters and his head tilts as he scrutinizes you. "What?"

"What?"

"You said-"

"No I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't!"

"Ambrose, please stop harassing our client." The guy's attention on you falters and you exhale, unaware you had been holding your breath. The rather beautiful red-headed woman who's delicately smoking a cigarette nods at you. "Come along, Miss Y/L/N. My sister Hilda has prepared some tea as we figure out the arrangements for your mother."

"Thank you, Miss Spellman." Your gaze darts back to the one who's apparently named Ambrose and he smiles at you before giving up and going back to whatever he was doing on his laptop. You finally climb up the porch stairs, flashing Ambrose a tight smile as you pass him.

The Spellman home is as old fashioned as you guessed it was just by it's appearance outside, but it's a beautiful home nonetheless. You're seated at the kitchen table and Hilda Spellman, a plump blonde woman, fusses over you as her sister Zelda goes through the nitty gritty details of the services for your mother before her burial and the burial itself. You answer any and all questions they have, and even get a bit personal with them as Hilda doles out the steaming tea. Through it all, you take a look around their kitchen and one of their shelving units catches your attention. Because while it seems normal, the jars and vials are corked and labeled in such a familiar manner that it has you wondering about the Spellman family.

"Now if you just sign here and here, you'll be done and Ambrose can get started on your mother right away."

You take the paper from Hilda and sign your name, you then passing it back gently. As she pushes your cup of tea back at you, you finish it off and set it gently back on the table. Then as you sit there gathering your thoughts, you realize you've been a little too calm given you've been speaking about your dead mother and going over the details of what was to happen to her body and organs.

The cup is pushed back in front of you, steaming with fresh tea. Without thought you pick it up.. and then pause as the rim of the cup touches your lips. Blowing gently on it, you take a moment to subtly inhale the tea's scent. And sure enough, you notice a subtle hint of ginger.

Ginger, plus all the labeled jars of ingredients that you know aren't used for cooking, can only mean one thing. Witch.

But seeing as they've not harmed you, and have only given you an apparent calming draught without your consent, you decide to not open that can of worms. At least not yet.

The following morning you awaken to the noise of glass and furniture breaking downstairs. The noise of destruction can only mean one thing and you scramble out of bed before you can be caught off guard once again. Just as you're pulling on your jeans, your bedroom door is exploded open. Debris hits you, even as you shield your face from the most of it, and you're thrown through the door of your closet by an unseen force.

Throwing your hands up in front of your face projects a shimmering shield, and energy blasts slam against it. You whimper in pain and watch as a red demon with black tribal markings all over his face and exposed flesh shimmers into existence only a few feet away from you. "Where's that wretched witch of a mother of yours?"

"Screw.. you."

The demon tuts at you before waving his hand at you and your shield falters. Hand still held out, he quickly squeezes his hand into a fist and every muscle in your body seizes. You scream and the demon holds you under his power for nearly a minute. "I won't ask again, little witch."

"She's.. gone. She's gone!"

The demon squeezes his hand into a fist yet again and twists his wrist to the side, and your blood boils. You're screaming again, thrashing on the floor of your closet as you feel liquid start oozing from your eyes, nose, ears, and the corners of your mouth. Eventually he lets up and your body sags against the floor in relief. "I will find her and when I do I will make her watch as I flay you alive before I do the same to her. After I devour the organs of you and your mother, it will add to my power." The demon chuckles and waves his hand over you, and the tibia's in both your legs snap. You're screaming in agony as he says, "Don't go anywhere."

He stomps out of your room and you're left alone sobbing. There's more furniture breaking and doors being exploded open as he scours your home for your mother. You told him she was gone, but you didn't clarify exactly what gone meant so you're hoping he's searching for something you know he'll never find.

As the demon wreaks more havoc around your home, you quickly get yourself under control. You don't have enough time to heal yourself, so you manage to scoot yourself over to the back corner of your closet and grab a hold of your emergency to-go bag. Then forcing yourself to concentrate, you mutter the words of a hastily put together spell and hope it works. "Trouble comes, trouble goes. I need a place to lay low. Hide me now, hide me fast, hide me before my time comes to pass."

The room around you starts to go hazy and you close your eyes to keep from puking up your guts. Moments later glass shatters and you hear several gasps, and your eyes fly back open.

"Y/N?"

The entire Spellman family, with the exception of Sabrina, is sitting around their kitchen table enjoying breakfast and the morning newspaper. Crap. Why the Fates decided Spellman Mortuary was the perfect place for you to lay low is a bit obvious, but you're not exactly in the mood to explain yourself to them. Too bad things never go your way.

"Before I start explaining," you huff, holding your upper body weight up with your hands seeing as you're bleeding out all over their floor because of your broken legs, "I need someone to go burn my mother's organs. Now!"

Ambrose scrambles up from his seat, and Zelda and Hilda are cautious as they stand. "What's going on?" Zelda demands.

"There's a d-demon after us. More so my mother than I," you tell them. "My mother was a powerful witch and the devouring of her organs can give any demon a power up."

"Blasphemy!" Zelda spits.

"Oh dear," Hilda tuts.

"Yeah. So can someone please go torch her organs and possibly give me a helping hand here? He, uh, he did quite the number on me."

As Ambrose flees the room, Hilda immediately moves towards her shelving unit and starts pulling down vials. Zelda walks over to you and crouches as best as she can in her skirt, she then gesturing to your legs. "What he'd do?"

You shrug. "Broke them so I wouldn't move. I guess he forgot that my family was great at making up spells on the spot and left me alone as he went ransacking the place."

"So you made up a spell to bring you here?" Her eyebrow raises in question.

"Not necessarily. I made up a spell to whisk me away to safety and left it up to the Fates to decide where to stash me. Apparently they thought that safe place was here. I'm sorry for intruding."

"Oh, Satan, no." Zelda's eyes widen as she mockingly swoons, though you're nearly a hundred percent sure she's not doing it in a mocking manner and is just that dramatic. "The Fates? You're not a-"

"Child of the Night? No," you gulp. "You have your Dark Lord and I have my many Goddesses. I don't look down my nose on those you worship, so I'd appreciate it if you can do the same for me."

"Of course, dearie. A witch is a witch after all," Hilda says, bringing over a cup of what smells like tea. She hastily kneels and shoves the cup into your hands. "Now drink up. I added a little spice to speed up the healing."

"Thank you."

As you're drinking, Hilda and Zelda give you a look-over. Ambrose comes back into the kitchen, hands shoved into the pockets of his pajama pants. He raises an eyebrow at you and squats at your side. "How did you know about us?"

"You're joking, right? If it weren't for the obvious witchy ingredients you have on display in plain sight, then the calming draught Hilda slipped into my tea when I was making arrangements for my mother was a dead giveaway." All eyes dart to Hilda and she sheepishly giggles. "Now if someone can please help me to a sofa, I need to concentrate on healing so I can get our of your hair and go ward my home from anymore demonic assholes breaking and entering." 

#imagine #tcaos gen fic x reader #the chilling adventures of sabrina imagine #tcaos imagine #sabrina spellman #ambrose spellman #hilda spellman #zelda spellman #the chilling adventures of sabrina #tcaos #fanficimagery