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writeforfandoms · 2 years

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We Can Climb So High

Find my masterlist and series masterlist

In which you and Pero return to the RenFaire one year later.

Okay. A few notes before we jump into this one.

This series started off from a couple other people plotting, and I asked if I could run with the idea. I never expected it be read by more than maybe a dozen people. So thank you to everyone who has given this series your time. I appreciate every one of you. 💖

Second, this is not truly the end of the series. However, it is the last real idea I have for these two. If you have things you wanna know about them, please ask! I can talk about these two and their silly little adventures all day long. And who knows? Maybe a question will spark an idea...

Okay. Here we go!

Warnings: Pero, swearing, grumpiness, mysteries, we don’t have all the answers and that’s okay.

Word count: 3.7k

"Do we really have to?" Pero asked with a soft groan.

"Yes." You didn't leave any room for objections, smiling as you straightened your shirt. "Come on. Let's go."

Pero sighed heavily but trudged after you. He had already objected. Multiple times. He'd given up on trying to truly dissuade you. Now he was just grumbling to grumble.

You locked up the apartment and walked with Pero down to street level, and then started the route towards the park where RenFaire was held.

Just like last time, you stopped in at the bakery and got orange scones and coffees for you and Pero. This time, you were able to order his coffee how he liked, and you got him an extra slice of banana bread. Because he was a black hole, especially for sweets.

The two of you devoured your goodies while you walked, and you reached over to brush some crumbs from his moustache. Pero surprised you by capturing your hand in one of his, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. Your heart leapt.

"Pero…"

"Hush," he grumbled, blushing and looking away. But he didn't release your hand.

Smiling and definitely a little giddy from the easy show of affection, you pulled out tickets for the two of you. Getting through security was easy, but only because you'd argued Pero into not bringing any weapons. (That had been a big battle. It had spanned days. There had even been a couple instances of one or the other of you walking out of a room. You had finally compromised that Pero could bring one of his practice swords that he used for lessons, but only because it was wood and he could hide it under his shirt against his back.)

And then you were in again. You took a deep breath, already able to smell the roasting turkey legs and beer.

"Where do you want to go first?" You asked Pero, excited.

He shrugged, unenthused. "You choose. I don't care."

"Spoil sport." But you grabbed his hand and started in towards the main portion of the fair. Some shopping first, you decided. Then snacks and a show or two. Lunch. Maybe you'd let Pero watch some of the fighting as a treat.

Pero took the first bag from the vendor before you had even finished paying. And refused to give it to you. You rewarded him with a kiss to the cheek, which both made him blush and look very proud.

The two of you spent a good two hours walking around, with you tucked close to his side as you walked through the crowds. You bought extra goodies for him to snack on, since you knew he would. And he only manhandled you once, to pull you out of the way of a couple performers. You smiled and kept hold of his hand after that, at least for a bit.

The two of you were just passing by the Tardis (and you couldn't help giggling thinking of last year) when Pero stopped dead. You continued for a couple steps before his grip tugged you to a halt. Then, finally, you looked back at him and over to where he was looking.

A man stood near the fence, blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, bow slung over his shoulder and quiver on his back. He wore dark clothes and armor.

Very similar to Pero, when you had found him.

Oh shit.

The stranger spoke first, sounding astonished. “Pero?”

“William!” Pero let go of you to go grab the man in a hug. He responded readily, though his eyes were still wide. “How did you come to be here?”

“I… don’t know,” the blonde, William, said slowly. “I was traveling and when I woke up…” He shrugged and made an expansive motion to the world around him.

Pero nodded. “Much the same happened to me,” he murmured, clapping William on the shoulder. Then he smirked. “But I found someone who helped me.”

“Helped you? For free?” William’s lips quirked at the easy tease, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

Pero beckoned you over, still looking pleased. “Si. This is my hermosa. This is William.” He looked at you, holding out one hand to you. “I have known William many years. Is still amazing I have not killed him yet.”

That startled a laugh out of you, and you took Pero’s hand and let him reel you in close. “Hi,” you greeted, feeling a little shy.

“So you put up with this ugly bastard, huh?” William asked with a smile, elbowing Pero. Pero grumbled something and draped his arm over your shoulders.

You chuckled. “More or less,” you agreed, smiling at Pero to be sure he knew that you were teasing. He scowled at you. But it was his playful scowl, pretending to be upset. “I imagine you’re pretty confused.”

“That is perhaps putting it mildly,” William said. “But yes.”

“Unfortunately I don’t have all the answers for you. But I have enough.” You hesitated for a moment, looking around for a decent out of the way spot to have this conversation. “Let’s go this way.” You set off first, and Pero fell in easily behind you. You didn’t have to look to know that William was following, too.

Near the arena, there was a big grassy open area. A couple guilds had their tents set up back there, but it mostly was an out of the way, quiet area. You didn’t want to be too close to the arena, just in case. Or to the guild tents.

So you picked a tree on the far side of the little field and sat under it. The shade felt nice, since it was warming up a bit more than you’d expected today. Pero, of course, plunked himself down next to you with no concept of personal space (not that you really cared - after a year, you were used to it). William sat in front of the two of you, absently adjusting his weaponry to make it easier.

Damn, you really hoped you’d get away without alerting security a second year in a row.

“Alright. Basically, what we know is that we don’t know how this happened.” You shrugged. “Pero showed up a year ago with no clue how he’d gotten here. We did some looking around, never found any reason why. He’s just here. He’s been here a year, so it seems to be permanent.”

William nodded slowly, looking between the two of you. “So there is no way back.”

“Not that we found.” You paused. “Although I admit I didn’t look very hard, not after the first few days.”

Silence fell over the three of you, and then William looked at Pero. “Tell me one thing.”

Pero nodded. “Anything, amigo.”

“Would you go back? If you could?”

Pero shook his head. “No. Not now. This time, this place, is strange. Confusing. But no. I do not want to leave.”

William nodded and smiled. “Well, my friend, seems you’ll have to teach me a few things.”

Pero snorted, smirking. But his shoulders eased a bit, some of the tension leaving his brows. And you smiled.

The two started talking, catching up on the last year. From what you overheard, the two had been separated when Pero arrived here - they had been due to meet up in another month for a job. Clearly, Pero had never shown up, and William had done the job. And then he’d taken to wandering and taking jobs as he could find them, debating settling down in every settlement he rode through.

There was some vague talk of going East again, but William hadn’t found anyone to go with, and he didn’t trust anyone not to betray him. Pero agreed that was smart, for once. (There was a brief pause as the two sniped insults at each other in a way that had you dying not to laugh.)

Apparently, William had been on his way north again, had made camp outside a forest, and woke up in the city. He had wandered into the faire by accident, apparently, following a couple actors in. And then he had gotten turned around and, well… The rest was history.

In turn, Pero gave him the abbreviated version of meeting you, going home with you, and never leaving. Fortunately, he left out the more… intimate details. But he was surprisingly verbose with his friend, and you could clearly see he’d missed William.

Honestly, you would have been fine to sit there longer and listen to the two of them swap stories and recall times (long, long) past.

But Jax jogged over to your trio, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, man! Good to see you again. You gonna compete this year?”

Pero snorted, looking up at Jax. “Not this time.”

“Oh, c’mon! It’ll be fun! You can bring your new friend too, if you want.”

That got a derisive snort. “William is useless with a blade.”

“I am not–” William started, aggrieved and also clearly with the tone of someone who has had this argument a thousand times.

“He shoots.”

Jax looked William over and nodded. “Yeah, I see that. William, right? You any good?”

William grinned, and Pero groaned. “I am the best,” William said with the confidence of a man who knew what he was talking about.

“Wanna come show us?” Jax smirked.

In an instant, William was hopping to his feet. “Let’s go. Tovar, I might need your help.”

Pero swore. But he did get up, and held out a hand to you to help you to your feet. “I could just kill him,” he grumbled. “Then he would not need my help.”

“But I’m curious,” you said with a less-than-innocent grin. “It’ll be fine.”

Pero heaved a put-upon sigh but acquiesced, following Jax and William back to the arena. Apparently they were between competitions at the moment, with one big pole still set up in the middle of the ring. You wondered what that had been from, but you weren’t quite ready to ask.

“Good,” William muttered, taking his bow off his shoulder and grabbing three arrows. “I need something to throw.”

Jax picked up an empty metal cup and tossed it over to William. “Will this work?”

William weighed it for a moment before he nodded. “Perfect. Tovar, catch.” He threw it to Pero.

Pero sighed but caught the cup one-handed, gently guiding you to the side with his other. “Stay here,” he said, about as stern as he ever really got with you.

“Okay.” You put your bags down to show you weren’t gonna move, and Pero nodded his satisfaction before walking back to William.

Murmuring had started in the crowd that remained between sets, and some of the performers and competitors had started to come back in to watch as well.

Pero and William stood about ten yards back from the center pole, Pero facing the pole and William standing back-to-back with him. They spoke quietly, easily, with William holding three arrows and his bow. Pero sighed - you couldn’t hear it but you could see it. Then the two went very still.

It seemed that everyone held their breath in anticipation, waiting to see what the two would do.

You heard William say, clearly but not loudly, “Pull.” Pero tossed the cup, and even from your angle you could see it was not a straight throw towards the pole. He ducked to the side, arms crossed over his chest.

William turned around, took a bare moment to take in the situation, and fired. Pulled the second arrow. Fired. Pulled the third arrow. Fired.

The first arrow clanged into the cup, sending it spinning back towards the pole. The second arrow flew through the handle and into the pole. And the third arrow thunked into the pole just underneath the cup, and the cup came to rest on top of the arrow, held in place from falling over by the arrow through the handle.

There was stunned silence for a moment. And then the arena erupted into cheering and applause. William, looking only a little smug, took a bow. Pero yawned. You couldn’t help but clap along at the show of skill, impressed.

It didn’t surprise you when several people wanted to talk to William and ask him things like where he had learned to do that. You didn’t hear his response, but you could hear that he was pleased and relaxed.

“He has always been more comfortable with people,” Pero told you, coming to stand beside you again. “And he likes to show his skills.”

You chuckled. “He is impressive,” you agreed. “But he wouldn’t be able to do that without you.”

Pero allowed you a small smile, one arm snaking around your waist to pull you in close again. “He is still useless with a blade.”

You laughed and leaned into your swordsman, content.

And then the thought occurred to you.

This was all well and fun, sure, but… Where was William going to go? He didn’t have anywhere to stay, clearly. Didn’t know anyone here except Pero.

“What is it?” Pero asked softly, clearly having felt you tense.

“I just realized,” you murmured back. “William doesn’t have anywhere to go.”

“He is used to camping,” Pero dismissed. “He will be fine.”

“Maybe for a day or two,” you argued, shaking your head. “That’s not a long term plan. I mean, he can come stay with us for now, sleep on the couch. Until we figure something out for him.”

Pero looked at you, startled. “I cannot ask that of you,” he spoke slowly, testing his words.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” You half-turned to look at him, to show him your sincerity.

“You are too kind, hermosa,” Pero murmured, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. “Is a wonder you have not been taken advantage of.”

A soft clearing of a throat saved you from answering that assumption, and you and Pero both looked at William. He still looked pleased with himself, but he had retrieved his arrows and had everything back in place.

“Want to look around some?” you offered with a smile.

“If that’s what you two are doing.”

You nodded. “I like to watch the falconry show,” you told William, leading the way away from the arena again. “It’s a fun show. I think you’ll like it - the birds are all trained but, well, they do have their own personalities.”

“Certainly.” William fell into step with you and Pero easily enough, looking around the faire with wonder. He was more open with his emotions, showing his surprise and not trying to mask it as grumpiness.

It was not hard to see how he was more of a people person than Pero was.

You picked a spot for the three of you on a hay bale in the middle of the seating area. You ended up with Pero on one side and William on the other.

“By the way,” you started, glancing at William before looking back at the as-yet empty stage, “Pero and I talked, and you’re welcome to come stay with us. At least until you figure out what you want to do here. I know this is a huge change, and you shouldn’t have to be on your own.”

“That is very kind of you,” William murmured. “Your generosity is commendable.”

The falconry crew took the stage, and you all fell quiet for the show. Honestly, you had a bit of a hard time focusing on it, despite your love of the show. There was a lot on your mind. Pero nudged you a couple times, and you waved him off. Now was not the time.

The three of you stayed put after the show ended, letting people filter away as you took a quick look through your bags, then around. You’d done all your shopping. Seen the show you really wanted to see. You should probably feed the two, actually.

“Alright, food time. You two can hold down the table, I’ll grab the food.” If William ate anywhere near as much as Pero, you might need to make two trips to carry it all.

“I can help carry,” Pero offered, keeping pace with you to the food area.

“Nah, you two can chat. You can tell him about all the things that you know and he doesn’t.” You grinned when Pero puffed up a bit at that. “Look, here’s a good table. You two stay here. I’ll be back soon with food.”

You left them there and took a moment to plan your attack. Okay. Two vendors. Order a little extra, as a treat. You’d worry about sweets later.

The turkey legs were pretty quick to acquire, and you handed those off before continuing to the second vendor you’d chosen. This one took a little longer, and you took the time to look around. It all seemed so normal. So many people going about their day, having fun. Completely unaware of the two time travelers in their midst.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you ordered, paid, and stepped aside. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to get the food, because your tummy was rumbling by the time you made it back to the table.

As expected, the turkey legs were gone. Devoured. The rest of the food didn’t last much longer, although both men did check to make sure you’d had your fill.

You were just cleaning off your fingers when someone coughed from the end of the table. You turned to look and blinked.

A very pretty young woman stood at the end of the table, hands clasped in front of herself, looking a bit nervous, but also determined. Her hair was straight and held back in a high ponytail, and she was wearing all blue.

Before you could say anything, William was on his feet, eyes wide. “Lin?”

“Ah, no,” the young lady said. “My name is Melinda. Mel. Uh, I saw you in the arena.” She paused there, fidgeting, looking uncertain. “This is going to sound really weird, but… you look like someone I’ve heard about.”

“Why don’t you sit?” you offered, nodding to the space next to William.

She took a deep breath and sat, sitting up very straight and still playing with the hem of her shirt. “God, this is going to sound so crazy.”

“Crazy is what we do,” you assured her with a smile, since William seemed to be temporarily incapable of speech, and Pero was just watching her with narrow-eyed suspicion. “Just tell us.”

Melinda nodded and swallowed. “So, my family is from China,” she said, words slowly gaining speed as she talked. “And there’s this old family story. Like, really old. A thousand years old. About this secret war? And apparently one of my ancestors fought in it. Became a general, if you believe the stories. Anyway, she wrote about two Westerners who helped in the war, and one of them was named William. And he used a bow. Apparently he pulled some big stunt in the, uh, mess hall, I guess? And, I don’t know, this sounds super weird saying it out loud, I’m so sorry.”

“Keep going.” William spoke softly, gaze fixed on Melinda.

Melinda blinked but nodded after a moment. “I mean, there’s not much more to it. It’s just… a really weird coincidence, right? It just seems like it, anyway.”

“Your ancestor,” William said slowly. “Was her name Lin?”

“Yeah,” Melinda confirmed. “How’d you know?”

William was silent for a few moments. “It’s a long story,” he said. “I’d be happy to tell you all of it.”

“Uh, sure.” Melinda seemed surprised.

William launched into the story, speaking quietly, ever aware of the faire around you. Melinda’s eyes grew wide with disbelief, then shock as she listened. And you?

You looked at Pero, wondering why the hell he hadn’t mentioned any of this before.

By the end of it, the whole table lapsed into silence.

“Wow,” Melinda muttered finally. “That is… insane. Actually insane.”

“Tell me about it.” You shrugged.

“This isn’t possible.”

You smiled at her. “And yet, they’re here. It’s not a prank, not actual crazy people. They time traveled, somehow. I still have no idea how.”

“So you’re telling me that you’re the one in those old stories,” Melinda demanded, looking at William.

“I am.” William paused for a moment. “I was tempted to stay with her. Did she marry ever?”

“Yes. Had two children. She died old and surrounded by family.”

There was a tinge of grief to William’s smile. “Well, I am glad to hear it.”

Silence fell again. And then you shook it off.

“I know this is a lot,” you told Melinda sympathetically. “William will be staying with us. Why don’t I give you my number and we can arrange a time for you two to talk more? If you want.”

Melinda gave you a grateful smile. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

You both pulled out phones and exchanged numbers. And then discovered that she lived in the same building as you, two floors down.

And when she stood, William hopped to his feet as well.

“Let me walk you to wherever you’re going?” he offered, covering his nerves with a suave smile.

“Yeah, sure. Okay.” Melinda smiled, giving him a quick once over before she led him away.

You and Pero sat at the table for a few minutes longer, leaning into each other. Then Pero snorted.

“I doubt he’ll be with us long,” he murmured. “That girl looks exactly like General Lin. He will pursue her.”

You chuckled. “Well, he’s more charming than you are, so I’d say he’s got a chance,” you teased.

Teeth nipped your ear in reprimand, and you gasped. “You will be paid back for your teasing,” he murmured, low and husky in your ear. “Repeatedly.”

“Oh yeah?” You smiled slowly, turning your head enough to look at him. “Not until we get home.” You winked and kissed his cheek before you stood and walked away.

He’d follow you. And probably try to cage you in a quiet corner of the park. Not that you’d let him get away with anything.

Life would never be boring, not with your Spaniard.

Taglist: @theredwritingwitch @spideysimpossiblegirl @quica-quica-quica @queridopascal @fandom-blackhole @shoopidly @beskarprincessjenny @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @liviiii98 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @princessxkenobi @thirddeadlysin @oonajaeadira @kiizhikehn-cedar @green-socks @withakindheartx @linkpk88 @janebby @anditsmywholeheart @amneris21 @recklessworry @the-feckless-wonder @javierpinme @grogusmum @eri16 @idreamofboobear @pintsizemama @pedrostories @stevie75 @luxmundee @reader-without-a-story @alexxavicry @elegantduckturtle @pjkimrn @jaime1110 @trash-dino-5000 @mandalwhorean @mswarriorbabe80 @bruxasolta @eri @chaoticgeminate @lowlights @hb8301 @luz-introvertida @magikfanatic @fabilei @tentacruels @churchill356 @grippleback-galaxy @the-fic-baker @tanzthompson @tintinn16 @phandoz @beecastle @practicalghost @borinquenasoy @snarwor @buckybarneshairpullingkink @scorpio-marionette @bowtiesandsandshoes

#born to be wild #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x reader #f!reader

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sylvrndoodles · 3 years

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#sylvrn art #one of my favourite memories of teaching #he was really excited about my banana ponytail #kids also have a funky idea of age #they either thought i was like two years older than them or fifty years older lmao #i love kids #i miss teaching but i don't miss washing my chlorine filled hair after every shift #adorable #comic #long post #swimming lessons #swim instructor

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highqueenofelfhame · 3 years

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I’m not posting a tag list for this part because it’s late and I’m exhausted and wanna get it out for you guys. If it does poorly I’ll go back and tag but right now I’m just very over tag lists. Follow the “#hqoe f&f” tag or “falsehoods & fistfights” or “Hqoe writes” tags to more closely follow my work. You can also follow @highqueenofelfhamewrites and turn on post notifications if you want to be notified of my writing! I’m not doing this to be mean, I’m doing it to save time and frustration when the tagging system fails (as it often does)

Hugest shoutout in the world to @punkassbookjockey26 for being the best beta in the entire world. She helped so much with this update!! Give her a pat on the back.

Part One // Masterlist

Rowaelin // 5681 words

~*~

For the last several hours, the clatter of her clicking keyboard and the flipping of pages had been on a continuous loop. At some point, Aelin had opened Spotify and forgotten to turn on any music, clearly content to keep to her rigorous work pace in near-silence. The door to her office was closed, and no one had stopped by to bother her since she’d arrived. Only a handful of phone calls had disrupted her this morning, which meant she had gotten plenty of work done.

Except that it wasn’t morning at all— it was two in the afternoon, and she couldn’t quite figure out how the hell that had happened. She was still squinting at the time on her computer screen when a firm knock sounded at the door, and she called out, “Yes?”

“Have you eaten today?” At the sound of Rowan’s voice, Aelin’s head whipped toward the door. She was unable to stop the smile that spread wide across her face or stop herself rising from her chair to meet him. Aelin perched against her desk, accepting the brown paper bag he held in his hands. No, she hadn’t eaten, not since her half a bagel and cup of coffee before she arrived at work. She’d left a banana in her car for a snack but hadn’t wanted to run back down for it.

“Barely. I didn’t even realize it was past lunch,” Aelin sighed, looking back up at his face. Rowan was grinning down at her as she tore a bite of croissant off and popped it into her mouth. The man looked criminally good, wearing jeans that hugged his legs in all the right places and a white button-up shirt. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and her eyes lingered on his tattoo that swirled down to his fingertips.

“Can I kiss you in here?” His question caught her off guard, a laugh bursting from her lips. “Because this whole…” Rowan gestured to her outfit. “It’s really doing it for me.”

“You like librarian Aelin?”

“Yes,” he said, leaning down to press his lips to hers. The get-up he referred to was a pinstriped pencil skirt that hit just above her knees and patent black stiletto heels that had her only a few inches shorter than him. She had a red tank top tucked into the skirt and, at some point, had discarded her white cardigan over the back of her office chair. Her lips matched her shirt in a bright, matte, red lipstick that she’d neglected to touch up throughout the day. Still, when Rowan pulled away, his mouth was tinged with the outline of hers. “I like this a lot. Fuck.”

“For the record, you can kiss me anywhere you want to,” she told him. “Especially in my office, especially when the door is closed.”

“Noted.” Rowan tugged on her high ponytail before sinking into one of the leather armchairs in front of her. Aelin continued to munch on the variety of pastries he’d brought for her while his eyes seemed to be glued to her legs. Aelin wondered if he was thinking about laying her out on this desk and having his way with her here, but she also knew he wouldn’t let that be their first time. No matter how badly she wanted it to be.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Whitethorn?” She asked, nudging his thigh with the toe of her shoe. The way he raked his teeth over his bottom lip before looking up at her told her that, yes, he was thinking what she was thinking. The way he quirked his brow at her also told her that, no, it wasn’t going to happen.

They were kind of dating, in the sense that they had been on a handful of dates. They had shared many heated kisses against the door to her apartment when he dropped her off, but he was being such a godsdamn gentleman about all of it that they hadn’t had sex yet. Aelin would have fucked him in the bathroom of the bar that first night, and they both knew it. But something was holding him back. To be fair, she couldn’t place all of the blame on him. She was holding back as well. Whatever this was between them felt like something that could be extraordinary, and she didn’t want to be the one that fucked it all up because she couldn’t keep it in her pants.

“I have a fight on Saturday, and I was really hoping you would want to come. Obviously, I would give you tickets, plus however many extra you want to bring whoever.”

“Just Aedion, I think.” Her cousin would likely die to be personally invited to one of Rowan Whitethorn’s fights, the same way Aelin knew he’d been having a bit of a mental breakdown when he found Aelin with him at the bar.

“Not your friends’ cup of tea?” He teased with a grin.

“Not even really mine, but you get like, almost naked for these things, yeah?” Rowan’s head tilted back as he laughed, reaching out to catch her fingers between his own. He squeezed them, shaking his head at her. “I’m just saying, any female fans you have are not because they want to watch you fight. I Googled you.”

“Of course you did.”

“And if coming on Saturday,” she paused, fighting the twitch of her lips at the innuendo, “is what gets me to see you sweaty and naked, I will be there.”

“Apparently, you can find that on Google also.” Aelin started to jerk her hand from his, but he laughed again and tugged forcefully enough that she dropped into his lap, his arms settling around her hips.

They didn’t have sex on her desk by the time he left, but he did have a trail of lipstick down his neck and red smudges on his collar.

~*~

There had only been a few times where Aelin had seen Aedion this excited. He was practically jumping out of his skin, trying and failing to keep his wide grin at bay. The whole way there, he’d talked about Rowan’s stats and how likely it was for him to win this fight. Apparently, it was very likely, and according to Aedion, if anyone bet against Rowan in the gambling pools, they were going to lose a lot of money.

This version of Aedion was almost completely opposite the one that had shown up an hour late to the bar a few weeks ago, only to find Aelin perched in his personal hero’s lap.

By the time Aelin spotted a familiar head of golden blonde hair making his way through the crowd, Rowan had stayed true to his promise. He’d bought her not one but two drinks, and she had a very happy buzz flowing through her.

“Aedion!” She hadn’t bothered to get out of Rowan’s lap; she liked the way his hand felt on her thigh, the other twirling a piece of hair around his finger while he talked to the tall, broody one— Lorcan.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay; I made friends! And a fiancé!” Rowan laughed then, sticking his hand out for Aedion to shake.

“I’m the fiancé. Rowan Whitethorn. You must be the cousin she’s been waiting on.”

“I got held up at work. Aedion Ashryver, nice to meet you.” Despite the cool and collected exterior Aedion was giving off, Aelin knew without a doubt that he was dying inside. She spent several nights curled up on his couch while Aedion and his friends watched Rowan’s fights, though she’d never cared enough to pay attention. Usually, she disappeared to his guest room to read a book or snuck out after an acceptable amount of time to hang out with her own friends.

Aelin had heard about Rowan’s victories time and time again. When Aedion showed her different self-defense moves, he would say that Rowan Whitethorn took someone down with the same simple maneuver. To say that he admired Rowan would be an understatement. He damn near idolized him.

“Nice to meet you? That’s what you’re going with?” Aelin asked, mouth dropping open as everything Aedion had ever said about the man beneath her flooded her memory. Aelin looked at Rowan, shaking her head and pointing at her cousin. “All I ever hear about when you have a fight coming up is ‘Rowan Whitethorn this’ and ‘Rowan Whitethorn that.’ Yet now he’s here, and all he says is nice to meet you. Unbelievable.”

“Rowan doesn’t look like someone who particularly cares for fan service. Though if I’m wrong, correct me, and I will rectify that immediately. On my knees even, if he decides he’s interested in men at all.”

Aelin’s lips dipped into a drunk pout as she said, “I saw him first.”

“Technically, I saw you first,” Rowan interjected, a teasing tone in his voice. “And you rejected me.” A wrinkle appeared between her brows as she looked up at Rowan’s handsome face, disliking that she was already being ganged up on.

“I’m sorry— you rejected him?” Aedion sputtered in disbelief. Aelin flicked Rowan’s nose, and just like that, they settled into an easy banter that tugged on Aelin’s heart entirely too much.

Now, though, Aedion seemed to be nearly vibrating out of his skin with excitement. At will-call, they’d learned Rowan had set aside special floor seating just for them. When they walked into the arena, Aelin was pleased to see Rowan’s group of friends from the bar. She’d spent the most time with Fenrys than anyone else, and he welcomed her with a big hug, insisting she sit beside him instead of Lorcan. Aelin was more than happy to oblige, as Lorcan didn’t seem to have a taste for her. He didn’t even bother saying hello.

They settled into their seats, Aelin sitting between Fenrys and Aedion, both of whom had skipped the pleasantries and moved right into a conversation about the upcoming fight. Aelin leaned back into her chair and took in the surroundings. There were bits and pieces she remembered from her time barely watching matches with Aedion, but it was still different than what she expected. There was a large octagonal ring in the center of the room surrounded by black fencing that had to be about six feet tall. She wondered briefly if the fence was to keep people out or to keep the fighters in.

People were milling about, but Aelin realized that the arena itself was three levels high, and seats were piled around the room from floor to ceiling. There had to be thousands of them, and from the look of the crowds filing in, there wasn’t going to be an empty spot in the house. She hadn’t realized that MMA had such a following.

After about twenty minutes, the lights dimmed and the booming voice of the announcer filled the arena. People cheered wildly as the introductions for the fight were made and the sponsors were thanked. And finally, Aeling knew it was time. The announcer over-dramaticized the entrance for the first fighter and Aelin watched as a lean-muscled man walked up to the ring. He entered through a gate on the side, and people cheered as he made his rounds. Aelin sat on the edge of her seat for the announcer to start his next introduction, ready to see Rowan walking through the tunnel, when a different name was announced and a different man came strolling out. The confusion must have been all over her face when she looked at Aedion because he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

“Rowan is the main event,” he said. “Which means there are a few fights before his.”

“Seriously? You mean I have to wait?” Aedion nodded and her scowl deepened. “How long?”

“Looking at the schedule, Rowan’s fight is slated to start in about two hours.”

“Two hours?! I have to wait two hours!?”

“Come on, Ace. It won’t be that bad. Just try to enjoy it.” Aedion turned away and was immediately drawn into the fight that had begun in the ring just a few feet in front of her. Aelin pouted, remembering all the reasons why she never stuck around to watch these matches with Aedion previously.

“All I wanted was to see Rowan sweaty and half-naked. I literally don’t care about anyone else,” she grumbled, mostly to herself. Beside her, Fenrys chuckled and threw his arm around the back of her seat as she settled back. Aelin frowned down at her phone, opening Snapchat to get a quick photo of her expression, which she promptly sent to Rowan.

It took him a good ten minutes to reply back to her, and it seemed he knew why she was pouting because the text across his photo simply said be patient.

After that, she didn’t want to bother him, and whatever pre-match rituals he may have, so she settled for scrolling through various social media apps to bide her time. When she found herself restless, she gave in and opened her book app to continue reading a romance novel she’d started the day before. The male love interest may have been a boxer and may have been incredibly sexy, and she may have downloaded it after searching for fighting-related books.

She had just reached a particularly steamy part of the book when she felt Aedion nudge her arm. Godsdamn him, the leading male was just about to give the girl the orgasm of her life when he’d interrupted. Aelin scowled up at her cousin, but the expression morphed into one of incredulity and excitement when she heard Rowan’s name announced, and he walked out into the arena.

Aelin immediately perked up in her seat, sliding her phone between her thigh and the chair. Rowan strolled out like a king surveying his kingdom, and the cheers were deafening. He wore absolutely nothing but a pair of forest green athletic shorts that left little to the imagination and some sort of fist guards over his hands. A wicked grin formed on his lips as he jogged up to the ring and hoisted himself up over the side with practiced ease. There was a very dramatic introduction, one that had the entire crowd screaming and getting to their feet. Aelin couldn’t help but join them, giving a standing ovation to the man she’d spent so many stolen hours with lately. Beside her, Aedion was absolutely losing it. It only made her smile more.

Even as the arena quieted while the referee explained the rules, nobody returned to their seats. Everyone stayed on their feet, and Aelin could understand why. Once the fight started and the hits and kicks started to get thrown around, she found herself filled with a restless energy that she couldn’t push down. Every time his opponent’s fist swung toward him, her heart began to beat frantically in her chest.

But Rowan ducked and dipped out of reach almost every time. The way the muscles of his arms and legs rippled every time he took a swing at the other man, Cairn, her mouth went dry. She hadn’t walked into the arena tonight expecting to find anything about the fight beautiful, but it was. The way that Rowan’s body moved was like watching a dance unfold before her. Every swing of his arm or swift kick of his leg sending her heart racing just like it had when she’d watched ballets growing up. It felt like such a bizarre comparison to make, but Rowan Whitethorn’s body was nothing short of a work of art.

But there was also a ferocity in it. Where ballet was soft and demure, Rowan was a force of nature. His face was hewn from stone, each strike with his hands or legs precise and controlled, but with an element of chaos surrounding it. He unleashed himself on Cairn, throwing punches and kicks swiftly, so quick that Aelin could not keep up with where the next one was going to land. With brutal efficiency, Rowan managed to get past Cairn’s guard to deliver several painful-looking blows in quick succession that had the crowd collectively wincing. It seemed that Aedion’s idolization hadn’t been misplaced.

Rowan breathed heavily, sweat dripping down every inch of his torso. His abdominals flexed with every exhale, showing off every hard line and sharp curve. The tattoo that swirled down his left side glistened under the bright lights of the arena. He looked like a god, and Aelin discovered that she found it quite difficult to keep her mind from falling off into the gutter when he looked like that.

When he made the final blow, a hit to Cairn’s face that had him unconscious before he even hit the floor, Aelin was surprised by how wholly turned on she was. He dominated the fight and looked damn good while doing it. Rowan was announced as the winner, fierce triumph written all over his face as the crowd completely lost their minds. Pride swelled in her stomach, and she couldn’t help her wide smile as she cheered along with the thousands of people in the arena. Even though it was televised, it felt special when he made eye contact with her and grinned before exiting the ring and heading her way.

Of course, he was intercepted about a dozen different times by dozens of different people offering their congratulations. When he finally got to her, he dipped down and hugged her tightly to his chest, pulling her feet off the ground. She could feel the heat of his body through the thin layers of her clothing, scorching her skin. The smell of him, a musky scent of sweat and the pine body wash she had come to associate with him assaulted her nose and she breathed him in deep. She felt the want ratcheting up in the most delicious way and knew that she would no longer be content with a night of only being pressed against her apartment door. Their kisses, no matter how desperate they had been, wouldn’t be enough to sate the need she felt for him. She needed all of him, and she needed him as raw and unrestrained as he had been during that fight. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as her feet met the floor, and he stepped back.

“Sorry, I’m sweaty.”

“You were amazing.” Amazing didn’t quite cover it, but it was the only word she could think of that came anywhere close.

“Does that mean you’ll come out with me tonight? To celebrate?” She wanted to say yes immediately. But with him in front of her, covered in sweat and looking like the only thing she wanted her mouth to touch for the foreseeable future, Aelin shook her head as her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. The disappointment began to cloud his handsome face, but she shook her head faster as though it would dispel his negative thoughts.

“I was kind of hoping I could steal you away. Celebrate with you alone.” Her voice was low and sultry, and she almost laughed because she could see him calculating just what that meant. The two of them. A celebration. Entirely alone, with no one else around.

“I— yeah. Yes. We can— yes. I have to wrap up here and then we can go to my place?” At all of his stuttering, she couldn’t help the bright laughter that bubbled out of her as the usually confident man in front of her stumbled a bit. His attention was drawn away temporarily when Aedion clapped Rowan on the shoulder and began to spew his admiration and congratulations. Rowan took it with grace, thanking him for coming while trying to keep his eyes off Aelin’s face. The way she bit her lip clearly wasn’t helping because his eyes kept dropping down to her mouth.

When a member of his team told him he needed to hurry— he had a short press conference post-fight and still wanted to shower before— Rowan dropped a chaste kiss to her lips and headed back to the locker room.

Aelin waited not-so-patiently, standing on the outside of Rowan’s group of friends in the parking lot while they talked. Aedion fit right in, pointing out the highlights of the fight with renewed vigor. He still seemed to be riding the adrenaline high from watching Rowan fight , and Aelin was sure he would implement something of what they saw into her self defense training.

When Rowan finally came out, they all cheered and shoved him around their little circle in celebration. He was grinning from ear to ear as he reached for Aelin and pulled her into his side, dropping a kiss to her hair. It was impossible to stop the tug she felt in her stomach, something between excitement and nerves. Everything inside seemed to be tied up in delicious knots as she leaned into him, enveloped by the scent of his body wash, the smell of pine equal parts comforting and arousing. “Where are we going tonight?” Fenrys drawled, throwing his arm around Vaughan. The quiet, dark-haired man tried to shrug out of it, but it only ended with him in a headlock.

“I will actually be stealing him away,” Aelin said before Rowan could even get a word in. Rowan’s hold on her shoulder tightened as he squeezed, and she squeezed him back where she had her arm around his waist, secretly thrilled that he was as on board with this plan as she was. His friends groaned in protest but Aelin and Rowan laughed. Lorcan looked particularly displaced about the revelation and was the first to step backward out of the circle and bid farewell. It didn’t take long for the others to follow and for Aelin to lace her fingers through Rowan’s and tug him toward his car.

While their pace could be described as leisurely, Aelin felt anything but. Now alone, she felt that want from earlier return with a vengeance. Rowan squeezed her hand, and her mind immediately wandered to those strong hands touching elsewhere, all over. A quick glance up at him left her reeling when she caught his gaze on her, and swore she saw every dirty thought that crossed his mind. It excited her, knowing that despite his cool, calm exterior wrapped around all of that cockiness, Rowan Whitethorn was just as affected as she was by what was to come.

When they arrived at his car, a sleek, black sports car that was perfectly him, Rowan opened the passenger door for her, ushering her in. Aelin turned her head towards him, and under the parking lot lights, she could see where Rowan had taken a bit of a beating.

Ducking inside the car, Aelin turned to look at Rowan, her thumb coming to brush over a bruise that was forming on his cheek. It was already a blue-purple color, indicating that it would only look worse over the next few days. Luckily he hadn’t taken too many hits, so this seemed to be the worst of his injuries. There was one other place near his temple that had drawn a little bit of blood but it was already on the mend, cleaned by the medics backstage.

“I’m okay,” he reassured her, his hand coming over to rest on her thigh. Aelin pulled hers away, startled by the softness in his voice. Her eyes searched Rowan’s for the lie that he was more hurt than he let on, but she saw nothing. She supposed it should have comforted her that Rowan knew what his limits were, but still, it seemed crazy that this man before her was the same one that had attacked Cairn in the ring and ended the fight in the first round.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her voice echoing the softness of his own.

“You just saw me get pummeled a few times and you’re worried about hurting me?” His voice dripped with disbelief, remnants of a laugh bubbling out. Aelin shrugged, cheeks stained a rosy blush.

“I don’t want to accidentally push on places that hurt.”

“I can assure you that anything you inflict upon me will be the sweetest kind of pain,” he promised, lacing his fingers with hers and bringing them to his mouth to press a kiss to her knuckles as he started the car and drove out of the dimly lit parking lot. Those knots in her stomach unspooled themselves into liquid heat as her bottom lip slipped between her teeth. “Don’t do that.”

His voice was rough with want, and it scraped over her, leaving small goosebumps on her skin. She shivered in anticipation, and ached to hear more in that deep, rumbling timbre. Reaching out a hand, she coyly ran her fingers slowly, softly up the taut skin of his arm. “Do what?”

“Bite your lip like that when I can’t kiss you.”

“If you drove faster, you would be able to kiss me,” Aelin teased, leaning over the center console to press a lingering kiss to his shoulder. Rowan’s knuckles turned white where he gripped the steering wheel, glancing over at her as the car rolled to a stop at a red light. Soaking up the opportunity they’d graciously been given by the gods, he deftly captured her chin and crushed his lips against hers, kissing her in a way that stoked the smoldering want inside her into an inferno. She felt the sinful slide of his tongue brushing against hers, of his teeth tugging over her bottom lip like he wanted to take a bite out of her. Aelin hoped that he would.

When he pulled away, Aelin’s eyes stayed closed, her lips stayed parted. A shaky breath tumbled from them, filling the tense silence in the car. It took everything in her to sit back in her seat and let him drive. If she were to do what she truly wanted to do, she would have him pull over and climb with him into the backseat, his apartment and privacy be damned.

Aelin wasn’t so sure that Rowan would stop her if she tried to coax him into it. How they had managed to go this long without tearing each other’s clothes off was a mystery to her. As she looked over at him, her eyes lingered on those strong hands gripping the steering wheel, hands that she wanted gripping her in the same way. She desperately wanted to have his fingerprints bruised into her thighs, to see the imprints of his teeth all over her chest. The idea of his back being covered with the marks of her nails only fed that growing fire within her.

The drive seemed to take an eternity, consisting of stolen kisses at stop signs and longing looks. It was hard to keep her hands to herself, and that seemed to be the case for Rowan, too. By the time they reached his apartment, his hand had drifted so high up her thigh that it was burning a hole straight through her jeans.

Rowan held her hand loosely while they walked inside the building and to the elevator. As soon as the metal doors slid shut, however, he was tugging her toward him and pressing her back against the wall. His hands slid from her hands to her waist, dropping down to her thighs to lift her up on the railing. Aelin couldn’t help the moan that she breathed into his mouth, her fingers twining into his hair while he tugged at her lip.

When the elevator dinged on his floor, Rowan was dragging hot kisses down her throat. It seemed to be too much for him because he had to take a moment before he pulled away. Rowan’s mouth stayed against her neck while he caught his breath causing goosebumps to rise all over her skin. The doors were beginning to close again when he finally pulled away and shoved his hand out to stop them.

Aelin laughed then, sliding down from the railing and tugging him down the hall toward his apartment. At the door Rowan fumbled with his keys, pressing kisses to the side of her neck as the lock tumbled and gained them entrance.

Any restraint he had left seemed to dissipate as soon as the door was shut and locked. Once again her feet left the floor as he carried her to his room and laid her down on his bed. Their kisses were hungry, starving as he lifted her shirt and tossed it onto the floor. His hands made quick work of the rest of her clothing, and before long they were just skin on skin, his mouth drifting lower and lower down her body.

All of it was pure ecstasy, almost too much for her to handle. It didn’t take long before she fractured beneath his mouth, her nails digging into his back, scratching desperately over his skin as he moved back up her torso to press his lips against hers.

When he pulled back to look at her, something had shifted. Gone were the frantic kisses, replaced by deeper ones that stole her breath from her lungs. An impossible feeling was tugging at her heart as their bodies moved together beneath the sheets. This time when she fell over the edge, Rowan went with her. Their bodies were so tangled it was hard for her to think clearly enough about where he started and she ended. Their gasping moans were a harmony she wouldn’t soon forget as he collapsed on top of her.

Aelin’s heel pushed down the strong muscles of his thigh, his calves, silently begging him not to move. His lips ignited sparks over her collarbones as he settled atop her while her fingers ran softly up and down his sides.

Eventually Rowan rolled off of her, and she would have frowned had he not tugged her into his side a heartbeat later. Aelin draped her leg over his waist and nuzzled her face against his chest, pressing a single kiss over his heart.

The last thing she remembered was the feeling of his hands in her hair and his low humming of a forgotten melody as she drifted off into a blissful sleep.

~*~

Soft kisses were being dropped over her bare back, leaving a trail up and down her spine. Aelin hummed in approval as a grin spread across her face. Her eyes were still closed, ignoring the rays of sunshine that were likely illuminating her face, when Rowan pressed a kiss to her cheek and the corner of her mouth.

“Good morning,” she said hoarsely, her lack of voice another reminder of everything that had transpired last night. She had woken Rowan a handful of hours after their first time, rolling on top of him and placing teasing kisses over his neck and chest until his calloused hands guided her into position. That time, Aelin had been control, her hands gripping the headboard through wave after wave of pleasure. There was an ache between her legs that made her want to beg Rowan to touch her despite how exhausted she was.

“Hi, baby.”

Aelin’s smile widened as she rolled onto his back and looped her arms loosely around his neck. Rowan kissed her properly then, long and slow until she was sure they were going to go for a third round in under twelve hours.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, fingers brushing her hair back from her face. Aelin wanted to snort in response, knowing last nights makeup was likely smeared around her eyes and she reeked of sex and sweat. But there was such reverence in his tone that she couldn’t bring herself to disagree, his green eyes bright in the morning sun as they traced over every feature of her face. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Her hand moved from his neck to the side of his face, thumb brushing lightly over the bruise that marred his skin.

“You saw me fight. You watched me beat the hell out of someone and you didn’t turn and run. You didn’t balk. You still wanted me.”

Aelin was positive the confusion was written all over her face from the downturn of her lips to her furrowed brow, but still she said, “Has that been a problem before?”

“Yes.” Rowan pressed a series of kisses over her face starting at her temple and ending at her jaw.

“It’s not a problem for me,” she promised, voice barely a whisper against his cheek. Rowan was quiet for a moment, turning his face to look at her. “You’re a fighter. That’s what you are. I wouldn’t want you to be anything but what you are.”

A mix of emotions fluttered across his face, whatever he felt being a catalyst for kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, nose, and finally her lips. When he pulled back, he looked hesitant and unsure. It was the first time Aelin had ever seen him like that and it felt raw. Like he was exposing a part of himself he seldom did. She was ready to ask him what was going on when he kissed her so thoroughly she’d nearly forgotten the conversation at hand.

“What if I wanted to be something else?” Rowan gazed down at her, teeth grazing over his bottom lip. Again, she swore she saw uncertainty on his face and in his tone as the question rushed out in a single breath.

“Like what?”

“Like your boyfriend.”

She couldn’t help the joyful laughter that bubbled up and out like champagne. Rowan grinned too, so widely that his dimples were deep in his cheeks. Her thumbs ran over them as she kissed him, both of their smiles making it almost difficult. It was too cute, the way he’d seemed almost nervous and bashful in his delivery. It felt like high school all over again in the most innocent way.

“You can be that, too.”

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yellowocaballero · 3 years

Text

Percy Jackson meets a Landlord, a Tax Accountant, and a Tree Growing in Brooklyn

“Golduck, use hydro pump!” Percy whispered. He moved Golduck so he hit Batman on the chest, and then hit Batman a few more times for good measure. “Die, landlord!”

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing with toys?”

Percy almost fell out of his chair.

He twisted his torso around, looking behind him with wide eyes. But the only person there was a white girl, no older than him. She was wearing a really severe expression to match her tight little blonde ponytail, and she was carrying a clipboard in both hands. There was a piece of string tacked to the clipboard, with a pen tied around one end. She looked like she asked the school librarian if she could help shelve books.

Percy decided instantly that she hated him, so he decided to hate her back.

“Aren’t you a little young to be doing your taxes?” Percy sneered. “Buzz off.”

That made her mad. The girl’s angelic little chubby face twisted in rage, and her grip on the clipboard turned threatening. “I’m accounting the chores! And I could do taxes if I wanted!”

“Yeah?” Percy asked, unimpressed. “Name one tax.”

“Sales tax,” the girl said instantly.

Damn. She got that one.

Short fic that I am considering extending into a much, much longer fic. Thank you Ami for the translation of the card (I would definitely translate it yourself, it’s important). The entire backstory and premise of the AU isn’t immediately apparent, but if I extend the fic it’ll be more explained (spoiler: Luke Castellan, age 14, said fuck Olympus and moved all of Camp Half-Blood into Brooklyn to live in a child-run utopia). I haven’t reread Percy Jackson since I was 10, I barely remember anything that happens or any of the characters, so don’t expect much - but aren’t the best children’s novels the children’s novels that live in our head, anyway?

Rest under the cut.

2005

180 Olive Apartments was a dump. Batman said so.

Batman felt very strongly about this, and as a result Percy did too. It was not Percy’s own, private, personal opinion. Batman informed Percy that the apartment complex was shabby, gross, not in Staten island, and smelled weird. Batman made a very convincing argument that they should live in Staten Island instead, which Percy had done his best to relay to Mom. Mom hadn’t been impressed.

“This is the best place for us, Percy,” Mom had said, with that pinched look on her face. It was the ‘Percy’s Making My Life Really Hard’ face. Percy had been seeing that face a lot lately. “Let’s just try to make this work, please?”

There was no ‘best place’ for them, and Percy and Batman knew that. But that was another thing Mom didn’t want to hear.

So Percy had suffered in stoic silence as Mom dragged him out of the motel, made him miss the new episode of Pokemon, and forced him to ride the subway forty minutes into smelly Brooklyn so he could sit in this smelly chair outside of some smelly office in a smelly apartment. From inside the office, Percy could hear the faint rise and fall of voices: Mom’s, light and lyrical and very polite to people who were not Percy; and some landlord guy. His voice was really light and high too, but he was probably a real jerk.

Percy was so bored he could die. He sat up on his knees, turning around so he could prop his elbows against the dusty windowsill with grimy frosted glass. He plopped Batman down on the dirty windowsill, smearing his chipped feet through the tracks of dust. Parkour. He unzipped his pocket and grabbed his slightly dusty Golduck rubber toy, putting it in front of Batman. Golduck was from McDonald’s, so it had a bad attitude.

Percy waggled Batman. You have a bad attitude, Golduck. You can’t live in my house anymore, because you get water all over the tile and you make the wood go bad.

Golduck jiggled when Percy shook him. It wasn’t Golduck’s fault that the water went everywhere! Water just goes places sometimes. Golduck was a water type, so water followed him around and got into wood and made the wood go bad and made other people mad at him. It’s not Golduck’s fault, so don’t make him move!

I don’t want to hear it, Batman said. I’m going to make you live in a crummy motel and make your Mom go on a lot of boring websites looking for new places to live. The motel’s bananas are going to taste weird. Mom’s going to cry a lot. And it’ll be all your fault because you’re a bad kid.

“Golduck, use hydro pump!” Percy whispered. He moved Golduck so he hit Batman on the chest, and then hit Batman a few more times for good measure. “Die, landlord!”

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing with toys?”

Percy almost fell out of his chair.

Percy decided instantly that she hated him, so he decided to hate her back.

“Aren’t you a little young to be doing your taxes?” Percy sneered. “Buzz off.”

That made her mad. The girl’s angelic little chubby face twisted in rage, and her grip on the clipboard turned threatening. “I’m accounting the chores! And I could do taxes if I wanted!”

“Yeah?” Percy asked, unimpressed. “Name one tax.”

“Sales tax,” the girl said instantly.

Damn. She got that one. Percy just rolled his eyes instead, sitting back down on his seat and stuffing his toys in his cargo pocket. He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed, even if he knew that he wasn’t too old to play with Batman and Golduck. What did tax accountants know, anyway.

The girl sniffed, and made a show of inspecting the grimy windowsill and carefully making a note on her clipboard. Her pen had a pom-pom at the end. Percy bet she made hearts over the top of her ‘i’s.

“Nick’s been slacking,” the girl muttered threateningly. “I’m surrounded by incompetents.”

“Why is it Nick’s job to clean the leasing office?” Percy asked, unimpressed. “Don’t you have a janitor for that?” Was Nick the janitor? If this pinched-face little girl was harassing cleaning staff then Percy was going to file a complaint.

But the girl just looked surprised, as if the idea of having a janitor was foreign and strange. “No janitor would even make it through the doors.” But then her eyes narrowed, as if a thought just occurred to her. “Wait. How did you…”

However Percy did what, he would never know. The door to the leasing office cracked open, and Percy scrambled off his seat in excitement. The girl stood stiffly at attention, clipboard on her hip, as Mom stepped out of the office. She looked very tired, but weirdly relieved.

There was a man right behind her, just as white and blonde as the girl. Percy wasn’t surprised: he could pick out a real ‘daughter-of-the-manager’ type right away. The man didn’t look like every other landlord Percy had ever seen - no moustache, for one - and he didn’t look old enough for the part anyway. He wasn’t old, but he definitely wasn’t an elementary schooler. He had a broad, honest face, but he was too muscular and strong looking and landlordey to be trustworthy.

Percy decided the weird landlord, with a mop of yellow hair like golden thread and a scary eyebrow with one long scar cutting straight through, was twenty five years old. Clearly the result of nepotism in the landlord industry.

Mom smiled when she saw Percy, who quickly pasted on his most innocent expression. Her eyes caught on the girl, who was glaring daggers at him. The landlord’s eyes caught on Percy’s own wrinkled nose. “Percy, good! Are you making friends?”

It was not an innocent question. It was a ‘please don’t ruin this for me too, Percy’ question. It was a ‘I’m very tired and I need you not to make things hard’ question. Percy was well acquainted with them. But maybe the girl was too, because when the landlord looked at the girl she also abruptly quailed. “I hope you’re being a good host, Annabeth.”

The unfortunately named Annabeth and Percy glanced at each other in silent and instant understanding.

“Yeah, Annabeth’s really fun!” Percy said instantly. He was not going to ruin this for Mom again. Or, at least, he would try to hold off ruining it for her as long as possible. Even if this stupid apartment wasn’t in Staten island. “She was telling me about -”

“Taxes!” Annabeth said smoothly, a much better liar than Percy. “And Percy was telling me about Batman.”

They both looked very cute and very low matinence on command, the perfect picture of children who did not make their moms live in motels.

Percy was rewarded when Mom smiled in relief. She put a hand on Percy’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. “I’m so glad. Percy, this is Mr. Castellan. Why don’t you say hi?”

“Hi Mr. Castellan,” Percy said obediently. “My name’s Percy Jackson, I’m in third grade.”

The landlord smiled at him with closed and tight lips, but it was Annabeth who spoke in interest. “Percy like Percival, King Arthur’s knight who searched for the Holy Grail?”

Uh, whatever? “Percy like the Greek hero Perseus,” Percy said shortly. “But I’m not Greek. My Grandma was from Guadalajara.”

Annabeth’s eyes widened. She glanced at the landlord, whose expression was impossible to read. “Are you sure?”

“I know where my own grandmother is from!”

“She didn’t say that you didn’t, sweetie,” Mom said, and Percy guiltily shut up. “Percy, why don’t you and Mr. Castellan talk in his office for a little while? I have to fill out some paperwork, and I think you two have a lot to talk about.”

Percy looked up at her with wide eyes. Mom never left him alone with strangers. And paperwork already? “Are we moving in today?”

“You two talk for a bit,” Mom said firmly. “I’ll be right back.”

When Percy was pushed into Mr. Castellan’s office it felt more like he was a Roman Christian being tossed into the lion’s den in punishment for heresy. And when Mom settled him into an uncomfortable and weird-smelling chair in front of the teetering desk and kissed him on the temple before leaving the office, he abruptly felt like he had jumped into Grandma’s book of Bible Stories.

Mr. Landlord’s office was as dirty and run-down as the rest of the complex. The big box AC rattled with clinks and whirrs as it shuddered against the sticky summer heat, and the landlord’s desk was covered in thick stacks of paper and chewed-up pencils. When he sat back down behind the stained wood, the chair seemed just a little too big for him. He sunk strangely in it, the vinyl flaking off and floating into the ground. There were a lot of crayon drawings taped to the wall, and there was a light dusting of crumpled post-it notes on the ground.

Mr. Landlord tried to smile at Percy. Tried being the operative word: when he smiled it was too thin and without teeth, more pained than reassuring. It didn’t reach his watery blue eyes.

Percy hunched on the rickety chair. This guy set off every alarm bell he had, which was plenty. And no, it wasn’t just because he was a guy, Ms. Brown. For added security and self defense, Percy casually slid a capped ballpoint pen on the old desk in front of him into his sleeve. Batman was always prepared, and Percy was too. He can hack up any creepy guy and protect Mom any day of the week.

The landlord smiled wider, even worse. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Luke Castellan, and I’m the supervisor here. Running into Annabeth first thing’s pretty bad luck, huh?” At Percy’s unimpressed eyebrow, he quickly added, “Annabeth keeps the whole place running, really. She’s...pretty convinced that this complex rests on her eight year old back, so she’s a little stressed out all the time. If she gets frustrated at you, don’t take it personally, okay?”

So she does help shelve books. Percy was a keen judge of character. “Why does she do it? You can’t make her be the superintendent. That’s child labor.”

Luke Castellan stared at Percy unblinkingly. He blinked about as often as a snake, but five times as quickly: as if he didn’t want to let you out of his sight for even a second. Finally, he said, “I’m fifteen.”

Percy gave Mr. Luke the stink-eye, clearly communicating that he did not trust even fifteen year olds (who were high schoolers, and even less trustworthy than adult-adults) as far as he could throw them. Especially fifteen year olds like Luke: who were too tall, with too-mature eyes and a particularly unhappy expression. Percy communicated perfectly that there was nothing trustworthy about this family of juvenile landlords, but he was just too polite to say so.

But that just made Mr. Luke sigh, as if he was tired instead of angry. “Annabeth’s my...ward, I guess. I just look after her. But she doesn’t like being looked after, so she makes up for it by looking after everyone else. I’m not saying I do a good job.”

He’s a landlord and he has a ward? Percy finally perked up. “So you’re like Batman?”

Mr. Luke stared at him unblinkingly, before finally saying, “Yes, except Batman doesn’t have superpowers.”

Percy had the sense he was being made fun of. “You don’t have super powers,” he accused, crossing his arms. “Nobody has super powers.”

Mr. Luke smiled, wan and weak. “Not even you, Percy?”

Percy froze.

Five seconds too late, Percy made himself laugh stupidly. People were quick to believe that Percy was stupid, and sometimes Percy helped them think that. It got him out of trouble sometimes - not always, but enough that it was useful. “If I had superpowers, I’d run super fast everywhere just like the Flash!”

But Mr. Luke just hummed, and flipped through some of the papers in a folder in front of him. Percy abruptly began sweating. Mom had given him those papers. They were records. This was like every time a principal had drawn up ‘proof’ against him in a court of law. “Your mom said that you both had to move out of your Queens apartment because it flooded.”

“I didn’t unscrew the taps,” Percy said reflexively. “They just came loose! I didn’t even touch them! I didn’t touch the boiler either!”

“The boiler?” Mr. Luke flipped back a few pages. “Oh, right. Your school.”

Percy slouched in his seat and folded his arms across his chest, stewing. He always sounded guiltiest when he denied it. He should go back to playing dumb. Pretend that he had no idea what water was. He had gotten away with it when he was six during that one birthday party at the aquarium, but something about being a third grader meant that people expected that you have basic observational skills.

It was stupid. There was no way to win. If he said that he didn’t do it then he sounded guilty. If he tried to point out how it was impossible for him to break the boiler and destroy the gym or whatever, using facts and logic and a rhetorical argument like the Youtube videos taught him, then they just told him he was making excuses. Sometimes Percy had the impression that everybody just wanted him to supervillain cackle like the Joker and brag about how terrible he was. Maybe he’d give that a shot once he entered middle school. It seemed like an evil teenage thing to do.

Percy Jackson was a liar, a thief, a cheat, a menace, and a bad kid. There was nothing more to be: not for someone like Percy.

But Mr. Luke didn’t threaten him, or give him ‘one last chance’ or anything. He just leaned forward, hands folded on the desk. His thumb was worrying at a small starburst scar on his hand, betraying a strange nervousness.

“Percy, can I talk to you man-to-man?”

Percy, who did not like men, squinted at Mr. Luke suspiciously. “Why.”

“Because this isn’t a topic for a kid. It’s a topic that...kills children, and turns them into little adults. I wish I didn’t have to broach it with you. But I think that you haven’t been a kid for a long time, Percy, and I don’t want to insult you by pretending otherwise.” Mr. Luke frowned, and Percy found himself involuntarily straightening. What was he talking about? “You were right. There was no way for you to have flooded your apartment, much less twice. There was no way for you to ruin your gym, or damage that aquarium. Much less...everything else in your file. No kid is that much of a miniature hurricane when he isn’t even trying. It sucks. It’s not your fault. And now your Mom’s credit score is so bad that she can’t afford another apartment. If it wasn’t for the fact that she saw our really generous listing in the paper, she would have had to move you two away from her home.”

She was thinking of moving them both to New Jersey. Percy’s lips tightened, and he knew that Mr. Luke saw it.

“This is an apartment building that provides shelter to a lot of special cases, just like you. It’s...full of kids who break things when they don’t mean to. Kids with a parent couldn’t handle them, or who couldn’t protect them. We have a lot of ways to keep families like yours safe, and to give you a home.”

Percy stared at Mr. Luke. He seemed deadly serious, as serious as anybody had ever been to Percy, despite the crazy stuff he was saying. Safe? Safe from what?

Safe from those weird, giant dogs that chased Percy and tore off half his jeans? Safe from that old lady in the deli with the slobbering bag and beady eyes? Safe from broken water pipes, from ruined floors and busted walls, from Percy himself?

Finally, all Percy could think to ask was, “How do you know that I’m a special case?”

“Because not just anyone could see that listing,” Mr. Luke said. “And - uh, no offense - but you are one of the most obviously inhuman children I’ve met in my life.”

Percy’s jaw dropped in complete, unadulterated rage, and without even stopping to think through his actions he withdrew the ballpoint pen from his pocket. He uncapped it, fully intending on doing something dramatically yet harmlessly violent with it, but he didn’t get the chance.

The ballpoint pen turned into a gleaming bronze and silver sword. Percy screamed. Percy fell out of his chair. Percy did not get the opportunity to look cool and dangerous at all.

****

And now Percy had Greek god stuff to worry about!

Didn’t Percy have enough problems? He couldn’t stay in a school, they couldn’t keep an apartment, their new landlord didn’t blink enough, and now he was the kid of a Greek god? Apparently he had been spending his entire life running from monsters and he just hadn’t noticed? That explained the stupid scary dog!

Percy knew much more about Greek gods than the average kid, since Mom was a huge fan. Yeah, Mom! Apparently you were a big fan! Jesus, Mom!

What’s this dumb stuff about Poseidon! That had freaked out Mr. Luke, and made him ask a lot of questions like ‘are you sure’ and ‘there’s a lot of minor gods who like to pass themself off as someone more impressive to mortals’. Then Annabeth, who had been listening at the door like a sneak and who ran in all heroically when he almost accidentally stabbed Mr. Luke, freaked out and called his mom a liar. His mom!

Then Percy tried to stab her with his new sword. Mom made Percy apologize for trying to stab Annabeth. Mr. Luke made Annabeth apologize for insulting Percy’s mother. Percy was beginning to worry that he and Annabeth may be mortal enemies.

Mr. Luke had tried explaining a bunch of stuff about monsters and ‘the Sight’ and why Percy’s life was terrible to him, but Percy already knew his life was terrible and he wasn’t interested. Percy ended up furiously swinging his new sword at a tree outside as Mom signed a bunch of forms and talked with Mr. Luke some more, but she hustled him home pretty quickly afterwards.

Percy didn’t give the sword back. Mr. Luke, wisely, did not ask for it back.

Mom kept on making a face on the subway back to the motel like she had been waiting her entire life for Percy to ask all of these questions, and she was preparing herself for it. She kept on glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, watching Percy kick his feet against the hard plastic seat. It was obvious. But Percy didn’t have anything to say to her. They spent the rest of the day in silence, just focusing on packing up and getting everything ready to move. Jacksons were practical, Mom said.

Jacksons were practical. Percy was practical, too. It was only in the deep pits of night, as Percy lay in bed holding up his sword and watching it reflect the soft lamplight above the creaky wooden table where Mom was doing work, that he asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The sword was really cool. It was pure bronze, with the middle gleaming pure silver. There was some Greek writing inscribed down the center that Percy had no idea how to read, although he had spent an hour scouring the internet looking for a translation. The handle was tough white cord, stiff and starchy but fraying a little at the edges.

Mr. Luke said it was named something, but Percy forgot what it was. He had been a bit busy almost impaling the guy.

Mom’s fingers froze over the keyboard. Her back was turned to him, so he couldn’t see her face, but her spine was stiff and rigid.

Finally, after a long silence, she said, “I didn’t want you to think that there was anything different about you.”

“So what?” Percy asked, his eyes pricking rebelliously. Stupid water. “You let me think that I was a bad person who ruined your life?”

“Percy, no!” Mom turned around, expression crumpled. The dim light showed the heavy bags under Mom’s eyes in sharp relief. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, baby. None of this is your fault, you understand? That’s what this business with your father means: that none of it was your fault. That’s all it means.”

If that was true, Percy thought, then why couldn’t she have told him before?

But Percy was afraid that if he said that, then he would start crying, and Percy was way too old to cry. Only weak little babies cried.

“I’m sorry my dad’s a loser who ruined your life, Mom,” Percy said.

“Percy…”

But Percy refused to answer her, putting his sword down next to him and pretending to go to sleep. He kept it next to him in bed all night, gripping its hilt tight, and the firm and cool pressure of the steel in his hand soothed him when the thought of a father didn’t.

***

They moved in the next day.

The next day! Percy was livid. He barely had any time to pack up his toys into his backpack, and Mom didn’t even have time to help him back up his blue Spider-man suitcase. He had to do it all by himself, and then Mom came in and told him he was folding everything up wrong and that he had to redo it. If she had so many problems with it, she should have helped him and gave him more than one day to move out of their dumb motel!

When people moved on TV there were always moving vans and buff dudes in baseball caps. But Percy was much better at moving then any of those idiots: all it took was a suitcase (of clothes and toiletries and stuff) and a backpack (of toys and school supplies and stuff).

Percy’s backpack had the Power Rangers on it, in glossy plastic. Its contents were always the same, through every move: Batman, Golduck, Bulbasaur, Blue Eyes White Dragon, Raphael, a stegosaurus with a missing tail named Hedward, and a little book full of pictures of him and his mom and some cards and stuff. There was a picture of him and Grandma in the apartment in Staten Island that he lived in until he was six, and a 5th birthday card she had given him six months before she died. Written inside, in her looping and faded script, was a sentence Percy had read over and over and over again. ‘Tu angel de la guarda trabaja horas extra por tí. Así que acuérdate de decirle gracias ¿Sí, mi niño?'’

Percy was inclined to agree with her. God should pay his guardian angel overtime. That, or pay one to go to Olympus and collect child support.

The image was funny to Percy - the idea of his angel with her wings and halos showing up at Poseidon’s door and tapping her watch as she held out her hat. It was so funny, it was the first thing he told Mr. Luke when they met him at the gates to the apartment complex. Mom was huffing behind him with her two suitcases, while Percy was busy juggling his own backpack, suitcase, and sword.

Mr. Luke looked alarmed to see the both of them, although Mom had called ahead and arranged to meet him here. Worse, Annabeth was next to him, still holding a clipboard. She didn’t look alarmed, just mad.

“Did you bring Riptide onto public transportation?” Annabeth squawked. “You have no sense of discretion!”

Was Riptide the name of the sword? Whatever. Percy would have named it Hurricane. “I know words you don’t know too, you don’t have to brag,” Percy said flatly.

“Yeah, the gods are filthy little child support evaders,” Mr. Luke said easily, instantly endearing himself to Percy. Mom rolled her eyes as she put her suitcases down, but she was clearly fighting a smile. “Don’t worry, I dragged them to court. Sued them for all they’re worth.”

“How on earth did you do that?” Mom asked, interested.

“Trickery and rhetoric,” Annabeth said proudly.

“Swords,” Mr. Luke said.

“What did you squeeze them for?” Percy asked, excited.

Mr. Luke winked. And he still didn’t ask for his sword back. Maybe he wasn’t all bad.

The apartment complex itself wasn’t nearly as big as a lot of Brooklyn complexes, looking more like the little apartment complexes in Queens that Percy was used to. It was three separate three-story buildings arranged in a square, with one side holding the small leasing office and a parking lot. It was open-air, with the apartment doors opening directly outside. There was a really big courtyard in the center, and despite himself Percy got a little excited.

It was awesome. There was a huge, sprawling tree right in the center of the courtyard. It was gigantic, bigger than any tree Percy had ever seen in his life. It seemed like it didn’t even belong in New York, like it was a transplant from the California Redwoods or Canada or something. Its leaves were waving in a nonexistent breeze, and something about it just seemed so magical and otherworldly to Percy.

But that was only half of the awesome things. The other awesome thing was that there were kids everywhere.

The tree provided shade to a couple scattered gangs of kids, sitting around and laughing. There was a rusty set of monkey bars, which some kids were playing on, and there was a big dirt rectangle where other kids were hitting each other on the head with wooden plastic swords. There were groups of girls eating lunch, and a gang of boys playing soccer in the corner that made Percy immediately want to jump in and play too. Percy dominated at soccer.

“The East and South buildings are where we all live,” Annabeth informed Mom. “The West building is where the training rooms and storage rooms and administrative rooms - that’s my office - and everything is. It also has guest units for the local spirits that like to visit. We just had ten Bacchae stay for a week. They were backpacking to Woodstock. We have very good inter-community relationships here.”

“That’s amazing,” Mom said faintly. Mr. Luke was smiling faintly, eyes fixed on the big tree. Percy found himself staring at Mr. Luke, watching with interest the soft but firm pride in his eyes. “Luke said that this property’s safe from…”

She glanced at Percy quickly, cutting herself off. But Annabeth just huffed.

“I almost got eaten by monsters twenty times when I was seven,” Annabeth informed Mom imperiously. “We’re not babies. Connor Stoll says if you’re old enough to get eaten by monsters then you’re old enough to know that they exist.”

Percy decided immediately that he liked Connor Stoll, and maybe even Annabeth too.

“The tree protects us,” Luke said. “Wherever the tree is, we’re safe. Not even the gods date step foot beyond the leasing office here.”

“Because of the tree?” Mom asked.

Luke smiled - sharp, piercing, and strange. “Sure, let’s say that.”

But Mom just frowned. She looked over the courtyard of kids - some of whom were already starting to whisper and stare. Annabeth waved at a gaggle of identically blonde children, and for the first time Percy wondered who she was the daughter of. Probably the bossiest god. Maybe Athena. Or, like, Hephaestus. Definitely Hephaestus.

“You said that there’s nobody over eighteen here,” Mom said to Luke. “Luke, there’s a six year old on those monkey bars.”

“If you’re under thirteen, you live with someone over thirteen,” Luke said to her. Annabeth was still frowning in disapproval at Percy’s sword. He stuck his tongue out at her. “Two people to a unit, we try to pair the oldest with the youngest. Lucy lives with Henrique, he’s seventeen. It’s the best we can do.”

“Surely there has to be someone…?”

“Adults have never helped us. They never will.” Luke looked away sharply. “We’ve been in Brooklyn a year. You’re the first adult who’s made her way here. Most other parents with a kid as powerful as Percy would have -”

He cut himself off sharply, glancing at Percy, and Percy scowled up at him. He thought that Luke was being honest. Maybe he was just another old guy afraid to say what everybody else knew.

“I’ll help Ms. Jackson settle in,” Annabeth said suddenly. She held out her hands to Percy, who reflexively hugged his luggage to his chest. “You guys are in unit 5. It’s on the bottom floor. If you flood it, then we can fix it okay. Give me your luggage, I’ll put it in your unit.”

Percy stared at her, overwhelmed with that simple signal of care. No threats about if he flooded it, no warnings or sickly sweet faux-concern. Just understanding, and acceptance.

He silently gave her his bags.

She seemed surprised when she felt how light they were. Percy shrugged awkwardly at her face, crossing his arms tightly around her chest. “Don’t touch my stuff, okay?”

“Sure,” Annabeth said, before pausing a beat. “We have a TV in our place. #1. Do you want to come over tonight and watch Winx Club?”

“Yeah,” Percy said, overwhelmed. “Sure.”

Mr. Luke put a hand on Percy’s back as Annabeth guided Mom to a corner unit. Percy couldn’t help but notice that the door to the unit was already propped open. Wait - there were people going in and out!

There was a tall, buff teenager, carrying two chairs underneath each arm. There was another group of three teenage girls, carrying a table between them. Two other younger kids were carrying boxes and laughing. They were bringing everything into the unit, and other younger kids were running in and out with cleaning supplies.

From a distance, Percy saw Mom stop in her tracks. Annabeth tugged at her shirt and got her to bend down, whispering something in her ear. A boy with sandy brown hair ran up, taking Mom’s suitcases from her and bringing them into the unit.

“Your Mom mentioned that you were missing some furniture,” Mr. Luke said. “The Hermes and Aphrodite kids all pitched in to get your home looking like a home. I hope you’ll like it.”

Percy clutched his sword to his chest, speechless.

Mr. Luke smiled down at him, that same wan and weak smile, and put a hand on his back. He gently pushed Percy forward, towards the tree. “Come with me for a minute?”

They silently approached the sprawling, ancient tree. As they came closer, Percy could see that its bark was gnarled and knotted, with perfect handholds for climbing and perfect boughs for resting in the summer sun. He could already see a few kids resting in high boughs, taking a nap in the humid and sticky sun.

“Percy, I’d like to introduce you to someone.” Mr. Luke’s voice was quiet, like he was in church. He looked up at the tree, peering far into the leaves as if he was trying to find something hidden within them. “This is Thalia. Thalia, this is Percy. He’s the newest member of the family. He’s also your cousin.”

Cousin? Percy looked up at Mr. Luke, eyes wide. “I’m related to a tree?”

Tilted up at the tree, Percy couldn’t see Mr. Luke’s expression. Maybe that was on purpose. “Thalia’s a kid, just like us. Daughter of Zeus. I used to think that she was the closest thing to an adult I knew, but...I’m as old as she is, now. I guess one day soon I’ll be older than she ever got to be.”

Oh. The tree was, like, from the ashes of some dead girl. Awkward. Percy stared at the thick and arching roots of the tree, feeling weird.

“Thalia, please protect Percy. I can already tell that he’s going to grow up to be very strong and brave. Please help us make sure that Percy never has to be strong. That he’s never brave. I can already tell he’s going to need a lot of your help.” He looked down at Percy for the first time, and for the first time Percy could see just a little warmth in those icy blue eyes. “You’re going to have to work overtime for him. So make sure to say thank you, Percy. Okay?”

“Thank you, Thalia,” Percy said obediently. He bowed awkwardly, uncertain what to do. The sword scraped awkwardly against his thigh. “Thanks for letting me into your home.”

“Welcome home, Percy,” Mr. Luke said, and for the first time Percy almost believed it.

#pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #luke castellan #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfic #I'm bouncing between a lot of different projects right now and trying to decide which one to dedicate time to #I promise I DID take a break and I will CONTINUE TO DO SO because work's been exhausting #but sometimes that means just writing low-effort self-indulgent stuff #anyway my friend had to sit down and explain the worldbuilding of pjo to me and I was like WOW THATS FUCKED so I wrote this #I also dislike some of the ways that pjo handled percy's backstory so that's being addressed #my writing #I FORGOT THE CUT LOL

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barbiehandlrr · 3 years

Text

To Know

The first time Natasha has the thought, she’s seven years old.

The dress is stuffy; the collar feels like a weight around her neck and Mama scowls when Natasha reaches up to tug at it. “For God’s sake, bambina,” she sighs. “Can you give it a rest? You can take it off in a few hours. You know what your father will say if he catches you playing with it again.”

At seven years old, Natasha already knows many things. She can create circuit boards, mentally solve equations that send adults running for their calculators. Yes, she knows many things, but the first thing she ever learned? Howard Stark isn’t a good father. As far as she’s concerned, Jarvis is her father. Natasha knows better than to say all of that. Instead she allows her gaze to wander around the room, taking in the sights of all the other girls in dresses and the boys in their suits.

“I wish I could be a boy,” Natasha tells Mama. “They get to wear suits and I have to wear this dumb dress.”

Mama laughs, and Natasha’s heart soars, though she’s not quite sure why her mother is laughing. She doesn’t laugh much, but it’s one of Natasha’s favorite sounds. “Don’t be silly, sweetie,” Mama says, readjusting her hair bow. “You’re such a pretty little lady.”

Pretty little lady. The words leave Natasha feeling nauseous, and for the first time in a long time, she can’t figure out why.

At eight and a half years old, Natasha cuts her own hair. It’s short, a mop on her head, and when Mama shrieks that she looks like a boy and what have you done to your beautiful hair? Natasha grins in satisfaction. Jarvis fixes it and gives her a soft smile. Jarvis doesn’t care that Natasha prefers jeans and t-shirts over dresses, doesn’t care that she cut off her long, curly hair. He loves her just as she is.

When he takes her to the full length mirror to take a look, Natasha’s heart flutters happily and she can hardly contain the rush of excitement. Yeah, she thinks. This is right.

Natasha gets detention for refusing to wear a skirt when she’s eleven years old. Pants are more comfortable, she insists. The boys get to wear them!

Dad shouts at her over the phone, hisses that she’ll never be a boy. Natasha aches for the ground to swallow her up, drag her down to the endless void where she doesn’t have to be anything. The words rise in her throat, I’m not a girl, I’m not a girl! But they die as quickly as they rise. At eleven years old, Natasha knows many things. She’s in high school at eleven years old, nearly on her way to college coursework. Natasha doesn’t know how she knows this, but it’s the most important fact that resides in her brain.

Natasha Stark is not a girl.

Her body is wrong. When her voice should begin to deepen it remains high pitched, a soprano note that Jarvis and Ana gush over and that she wishes desperately did not exist. Her body begins to grow and change in ways that Ana had told her it would, but Natasha had just snorted and not paid attention to any of it. Her body begins to curve and her chest begins to grow and she bleeds. Natasha spends more time locked in her bedroom, absorbed in her robots so that no one can look at her and her horrible body. Her dainty, feminine, wrong body.

Jarvis and Ana whisper about her. They’re worried. Whenever they ask her about it, Natasha comes up with an excuse. I miss Mama and wish she would come home. Dad was being a jerk again.

Rich families are cutthroat. If Natasha doesn’t conform, behave exactly how they all want her to, she’ll be an outcast. She’ll be sent away to one of those horrible camps a girl at school was talking about and Dad would make Jarvis and Ana stop talking to her.

Keeping Jarvis and Ana was almost worth all of the wrongness.

Almost.

That same year, Natasha comes across the word transgender in a book she’s reading. It’s not often that she has to look something up. On a Thursday afternoon, after days of contemplation, she makes the trek down to her school’s library. The other students giggle when they spot her, Natasha the freak, and she sneers at them before turning to the card catalog. It takes what feels like hours to find what she’s looking for. LGBT 306.76. She follows the numbers, dives deep into the nonfiction section and frowns. It’s a small section, but she’ll make do. There she spots a book, She's not there : a life in two genders. Natasha pulls it off the shelf, reads about this person who everyone assumes to be a girl but really is a boy. There he defines the word Natasha saw, the word transgender: a person whose sense of personal identity and gender does not correspond with their birth sex.

It comes in waves, the realizations and relief and all of it. Everyone around her thinks that Natasha’s a girl, but something inside of her screams wrong! That’s wrong! She’s never had a word for it. And there are more people just like her? Natasha takes the book to a table and reads feverishly, taking notes.

She’ll never be able to do anything about it, but the more she reads, the more Natasha’s convinced of it. She’s transgender. Not wrong or horrible or broken.

Transgender. Natasha has more research to do.

She’s thirteen and alone in her room, staring at herself in the mirror. Mama says that she’s turning into a beautiful young woman, albeit not as proper as she would like. The last bit is always said with a tiny smile, so Natasha knows that Mama is joking. Mostly. And dear old Dad? Well, that bastard isn’t even around, so what does he know?

The bruises on her ribs scream in agony, but Natasha swallows down a hiss of pain. Howard isn’t here, but she refuses to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he could break her someday. She may be broken, but at least she has Jarvis and Ana.

Jarvis and Ana, who teach her how to cook. Jarvis and Ana who don’t hit or shout when she burns banana bread and nearly starts a fire, who laugh with her and choose her.

Ana bought her these clothes, these jeans and a black t-shirt that’s just a bit too big on her petite frame and brand new Chuck Taylors. Alone in her bedroom, Natasha pulls her hair back grinning at the sight in front of her. She doesn’t see Natasha, or a pretty little lady or a proper young woman. The image in front of her is young, and a bit too earnest, and dammit, Natasha, why are you crying?

The image in front of her is a boy. He looks about two years younger than her, but she can work with it. Weak, fragile Natasha is gone. In her place stands a boy, an exuberant, funny, genius of a boy. The boy and Natasha reach out; their fingers touch, and Natasha feels more at home than she has since she was eight and a half, her waist-length hair clumps on the floor.

Natasha knows what her name should have been. Mama told her years and years ago, and it felt like it was hers. Anthony. Anthony Edward Stark. “Anthony.” Natasha whispers the name, crossing that line at last. After this there’s no going back. No more Natasha and dresses and bows and heels and skirts. There will only be Anthony and his jeans and t-shirts and sneakers, Anthony and his deep voice and his rightness.

Anthony moves his fingers away from the mirror, lets go of his long hair and the illusion shatters. In front of him stands a girl, a weak, broken girl in boy’s clothing. Who is he thinking? He can’t be Anthony. His mother would never speak to him again; Howard would toss him out on the streets. He’d be all alone. He wouldn’t even have Jarvis and Ana.

He’ll call himself Anthony, he decides. Or maybe even Tony. Anthony’s too posh, too formal, everything Howard loves and all things he hates. Yes, Tony. Tony sounds good, sounds right. He’ll answer to Natasha and wear the frilly dresses and play the part of a nice young woman. The thought sends waves of nausea so fierce that his knees buckle, but Tony can do it. He’s going off to MIT next year. Just one more year and he can be free.

Tony doesn’t last a year. Before his fourteenth birthday he’s in jeans and t-shirts, long hair pulled into a ponytail or braid. Howard hates it, tells him he looks like a rat and a slob, but what does he know? Mama’s away on longer and longer trips, which means longer stretches where he doesn’t have to wear those horrible dresses. Everyone still calls him Natasha, and he bites back a snarl and an My fucking name is Tony every time, but he manages. The masculine clothes don’t ease all of it, but they help.

MIT is a godsend. For the first time in his life, Tony is free to create his robots, live out from under Howard’s thumb, and finally be himself. The media hounds him, but for the first time in his life Tony doesn’t care. He cuts his hair again and rumors about him being a butch lesbian circulate and he just laughs. If only they knew.

There is just one thing wrong, other than himself. He’s younger than everyone else, smarter and he doesn’t know when to shut up. It’s nothing that Tony isn’t used to. He survived boarding school, and he’ll survive this too.

Then he meets Rhodey.

At first, they’re Jim and Natasha. Jim is older than Tony by two years, but they’re in the same year. They share the same general education class, Sociology 101, and they get paired together for a project. They both have single dorms, but two months later, Tony has practically moved into his room.

Jim is now Rhodey, but Tony is still Natasha. He yearns to tell him, stops and starts, the words dying in his throat. In a short amount of time, Tony’s become attached and anyone to whom he attaches himself winds up leaving. Tony’s too loud, too smart, he stays up too late and hyperfocuses on his robots. Rhodey doesn’t care about all of that, but Rhodey will definitely care if Tony tells him I’m not a girl, don’t call me Natasha, please call me Tony. Tony can practically see Rhodey recoil in disgust, shove him away and kick him out of his dorm.

Tony can’t, won’t, risk that.

Howard pays for an off campus apartment next year. Tony and Rhodey live in their own apartment, almost in their own little world. Howard doesn’t know that Rhodey’s living with him. Tony had mentioned it, but Howard had just grunted, not even paying attention.

It’s better that way.

Tony only binds his chest when Rhodey isn’t home. He knows he’s not supposed to wrap with ace bandages, but he has nothing else and he’s desperate. What he doesn’t count on his Rhodey coming home early, seeing Tony in the living room with nothing but his jeans and an ace bandage binding his breasts.

For a long moment, they just stare at each other, neither speaking. Then Rhodey opens his mouth and Tony bolts, locking his bedroom door behind him.

Goddammit.

Tony waits anxiously for a few days, almost begging Rhodey to say something and get the conversation over with, but he never does. Rhodey is good like that. Everyone else thinks Tony is weird, but Rhodey loves him for who he is, not in spite of it as so many people think. That much Tony knows to be true. But if Rhodey knew this about him, then Rhodey wouldn’t love him anymore.

Rhodey is everything. He’s friendship and love, late nights and delirious mornings, comfort and safety, and Tony aches desperately to hold onto him. They sit together in the living room, Rhodey doing homework and Tony fiddling with DUM-E’s arm. Rhodey is calm, but Tony is so tense that he can hardly stand it, and before he knows it the words, “Why won’t you call me a freak?” slip from his mouth. Rhodey looks up at him in surprise and Tony continues. “You walked in on me and you haven’t said a word! Go on! Call me disgusting! Call me a freak! Just get it over with. Dammit, Jim, why can’t you just get it over with and stop stringing me along?”

Rhodey sighs and shoves his textbook away. “I haven’t said anything because I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Bullshit,” Tony hisses. “I’m a fucking freak and you know it! Everyone else already thinks it, so go on, have at it. Tell me something I don’t fucking know.”

Rhodey raises an eyebrow. “Are you done?” Tony’s face flushes with rage, but before he can retort, Rhodey’s up and crossing the room, standing right in front of him. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think it was a big deal. Nat, you stay up for three days at a time. You leave circuit boards and wires all over and forget to do your laundry. You’re loud and funny and one of the kindest people I know. This? The, what is it called, binding? It’s not even the weirdest or worst thing I’ve caught you doing.”

Tony deflates and stares at his friend for a moment. It’s not often that he’s speechless, and judging by Rhodey’s smirk, he must be thinking the same thing. “I guess you’re right,” he says slowly. “You really don’t think it’s weird?”

“Cross my heart.”

Rhodey doesn’t think he’s weird. Rhodey doesn’t want to toss him away, discard and abandon him like the trash so many other people believe he is. Tony doesn’t deserve Rhodey, doesn’t deserve his kindness, love, or friendship. But with Rhodey, he feels the safest. If Rhodey doesn’t think he’s weird for binding, maybe he won’t care about the other stuff? Tony’s heart hammers in his chest, his palms sweat and he sits on the floor. Rhodey sits across from him, reaches out and squeezes his hand.

“Rhodey, I have to tell you something.”

Rhodey waits patiently while Tony collects himself. Tony’s never said the words out loud before. Saying them feels like the end of a chapter, one more piece of Natasha gone. The idea of saying goodbye to Natasha is exciting, exhilarating, freeing. Tony takes a deep breath and looks into Rhodey’s eyes.

“I’m transgender.”

** Rhodey has questions, of course, he does, but he holds onto Tony tightly as he explains everything. How he never felt like a girl, how he doesn’t know how he knows, but he knows that he’s a boy. He’s a boy and he wants to die every time someone calls him Natasha, how he wants to burn every dress and makeup palette he owns, how he feels like himself in masculine jeans and t-shirts and suits.

And then Rhodey does something that shocks him. It’s a question. A simple one, really.

“What’s your name?”

And for the first time he gets to respond, “My name is Tony.” Everything falls into place, and Tony sighs, leaning into his friend. Rhodey pulls him all the closer and Tony affirms, “My name is Tony.”

“Okay, Tony,” Rhodey says with a wide grin. “It’s nice to meet you.”

A few days later, Tony unlocks the door to the apartment and kicks off his shoes. Midterms suck, and he thinks he might actually eat dinner and go to bed early tonight. He stumbles into the kitchen, eyebrows raising curiously at the package on the table. There’s a note on top of the brown wrapping.

Tones,

Sorry if this is weird, but I just wanted to do something for you. I did research and everything says not to bind with ace bandages, so I got this for you. Let me know if it doesn’t fit.

And I know I didn’t say this before, and I should have, but thanks for trusting me.

--Rhodey

Tony opens the package and gasps when he sees what’s inside. He’s heard of these, but with Howard snooping through his credit card statements, it’s never been safe enough to buy one. The binder is lighter than he expected, but it feels like he’s touching gold. Tony rushes to his bedroom and puts it on, relieved when it actually fits. Then again, Rhodey knows everything about him. This is no exception. He puts his t-shirt back on, messes with his hair and looks at himself in the mirror. For the first time, he doesn’t see a girl pretending to be a boy. He sees himself, Tony Stark, and tears well dangerously in his eyes as he reaches up to touch his reflection. He’s still not exactly where he wants to be, he won’t be until he turns eighteen and can transition without Howard’s input, but the binder helps ease an ache inside of him, the ache that screams you’re wrong!

Tony doesn’t feel wrong, not with the binder, not with Rhodey calling him Tony and using masculine pronouns. No, for the first time in his entire life, Tony feels just right.

#trans tony stark #deadnaming tw #misgendering tw #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #tony stark #brief mention of child abuse

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official-weasley · 3 years

Text

Double the Joy - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: scolding a child, fluffy family stuff

Word count: 4,585

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

A/N: I still suck at writing baby talk so I am expecting an army of toddlers to get me soon! 🙈

Nova

“Alright, so then we place this one here...”

Charlie was sitting on the floor with Aoede and they were doing a puzzle together. It was gifted to her by Arthur when she turned 3 but she didn't show any interest in it until this morning when she found it in her room and the second she showed it to us Charlie had to promise her that they will complete it after lunch.

The puzzle is of a dinosaur mum and her newly hatched baby. I found it amusing but not at all surprising because Arthur loved Muggle things and for some reason, Aoede was more than intrigued by them too.

Charlie, on the other hand, wasn't very pleased that Aoede was more excited about some giant Muggle chickens that don't even exist any more than dragons but once they had the frame down, he got into it.

“Dad, we need another piece hele!” Aoede pointed her tiny finger to where she noticed a piece was missing and they both started to search for it on the big pile they set up together to easily find the right puzzle piece.

I was half laying on the sofa, sipping on my tea and observing them bonding. It was better than Tom and Jerry or any other show or cartoon. Every time they were doing something together I took my time to just stare and admire them. Aoede might be a miniature me but in so many hidden ways she was just like Charlie and I loved to figure those things out and later point them out to him because it meant so much to him to know that she caught some of his genes as well, besides his red hair.

One of the first things I noticed was the way she gets angry – it's all of a sudden and she gives it her all – and Charlie is the same. They both don't know how to handle their temper. With Charlie, I got used to it. With Aoede, it's adorable – for now.

It's also how she frowns and presses her lips together when she is mad. Charlie does the same expression and since she copies so many things after me, I think she got that one from Charlie – probably when he comes home mad when one of the dragons was disobedient and his interns didn't know how to handle it properly.

It shows the most, however, when they cook together. The way they both concentrate when they are measuring things or how they mix the ingredients in the pot. Aoede bends over when she searches for something in the fridge the same way Charlie does and she tends to lower her voice while baking for some reason and I didn't notice that Charlie does the same until last week when he had a sudden inspiration to make banana bread.

Being more than 8 months pregnant, I couldn't do much. Unlike the morning sickness when I was pregnant with Aoede, I feel constantly tired with this one so I am mostly resting and taking every opportunity I can to nap.

At first, it bothered me because I felt so useless, and seeing Charlie being so busy with cleaning and cooking while still going to work and playing with Aoede, I felt like I am not contributing much. The second I expressed my concern, Charlie was quick to calm me down saying that being pregnant and granting his wish to have another baby was contributing enough.

As always, I tried protesting for a few days and even cooked a few meals and bathed Aoede a few times – despite that being one of Charlie's favorite things to do because they splash each other and flood the bathroom. At first, Charlie just glared at me and said nothing, knowing full well that I was stubborn enough to try my best. But the second he saw that it was draining me and that I started sleeping more and more he made me stop and I finally gave in.

Now, I love my quality time on the sofa because I usually have the honor of watching Charlie play with Aoede and it's just the most beautiful sight of how much he loves to spend time with her and how much fun Aoede is having when she has daddy's full attention.

“Okay, we did that part, now to the tail...” Charlie started searching for puzzle pieces again, while Aoede came to me, gave me a gentle squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

She did that every time she thought that she was spending too much time with her dad and was making me jealous. Every fifteen minutes or so she would pause whatever she was doing and take the opportunity to come and show me that she loves me too.

A knock on the door disturbed our precious little moment and I started to get up.

“I'll get it, love, no need to get up.” Charlie lifted his hand at me to stop me.

“No, no. You two are busy. Let me go, I have to stretch my legs a little anyway.” I smiled at him and he bestowed me with an appreciative smile back, clearly having the best time with his daughter.

I slowly made my way to the hallway and opened the door.

“Good evening!” Bill grinned the second he saw me, his eyes moving from mine to my belly, before pulling me in a hug.

“Oh, my, you are getting big! I can't believe less than a month to go!” Fleur exclaimed and embraced me too.

“Aoede, your godparents are here!” I shouted toward the living room.

“Sorry, dad, I have to go.” I heard Aoede whisper to Charlie before she started running toward us.

“Uncle Bill, uncle Bill, uncle Bill, uncle Bill!” Aoede crashed into Bill with such force that she almost knocked them both over.

“Look at you!” Bill took her in his arms. “Since when are you so big?”

“Uncle Bill, you saw me less than a month ago!” Aoede giggled.

“I know, but still. You must've grown for a full head!” Bill exaggerated.

“Nuh-uh! Tell him, auntie Fleul, he is lying!” Aoede leaned closer to Fleur to hug her too before returning to pay her full attention to Bill's ponytail failing to make it into a braid.

“'e's right! You 'ave grown!” Fleur tickled Aoede's belly, loving how easily entertained she was.

“Look, uncle Bill, auntie Fleul! Daddy and I ale making a puzzle!” Aoede grabbed both of her god parent's hands and rushed them to the living room the second Bill put her down.

“Dinosaurs,” Bill sniggered, “let me guess, a gift from grandpa Artie?”

“Yes!” Aoede lifted her hands excitedly in the air.

“I can see Charlie iz very 'appy about dinosaurs.” Fleur pressed her lips together not to laugh as she sat next to me on the sofa while Bill joined Charlie and Aoede to finish the puzzle.

“So, 'ow are you?” Fleur put her hand on my knee, her eyes that were glued to my belly were sparkling.

“I am about the same. Still very tired but it's almost over.” I sighed and smiled at her.

“You are doing great and it will be worth it once you zee your new baby.” She exclaimed.

I narrowed my eyes at her – she was hiding something. Bill and Fleur were married for 2 years now and we have become really good friends and it's been nice to not be the only girl to marry into the Weasley family. They visit us often, especially now that the dark times are behind us and Aoede expresses that she misses her favorite aunt and uncle.

Only Charlie, Bill, Fleur, and I know that Aoede loves them the most and promised that we won't tell anyone else in the family no to crush their hearts as they all fought to be the favorite of their only niece.

Since we see each other more often, I had the chance to get to know Fleur better which meant I learned when she was hiding something. She has been very supportive ever since we told them and the family that we are pregnant again and even offered for Aoede to stay with them for a week at Shell Cottage so Charlie and I could get a breather and be properly excited about the expecting bundle of joy.

I was used to her asking me how I am and how I am dealing with everything and she even expressed a wish that she wishes to be a mum herself. But her grinning and having sparks in her eyes was something new – as if she couldn't wait to share something with me.

“You are on to me, aren't you?” She giggled as I didn't stop reading her face.

I only hummed in response before looking at Bill who's head was tilted, observing Aoede completing the puzzle with the same sparks in his eyes. I pursed my lips, going full detective mode on this.

“Will you say it on your own or should I just guess?” I smirked, locking eyes with Fleur.

“Guess what?” Charlie looked at us and I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

“William, Nova knows.” Fleur pretended to be disappointed.

“Knows what?” Charlie asked confused.

“How did you know? She isn't showing yet.” Bill furrowed his brows.

“Not showing yet?” Charlie's eyes were jumping from Bill to Fleur to me and back.

“Oh, I don't know, perhaps all the sparks in your eyes.” I giggled and pointed at both of them, leaving poor Charlie confused.

“I told you she will figure us out!” Fleur's cheeks turned slightly pink.

“Okay, somebody has to fill me in!” Charlie didn't look amused at all.

“As I said – will you tell us on your own or should I make a guess?” I cocked an eyebrow at them, giving them one last chance.

“Somebody please just say it.” Charlie ran a hand across his face, looking completely done.

“Let Charlie guess!” Bill laughed, pointing at his brother.

“But –” Charlie frowned at him before giving it some thought.

“So, Nova already knows and it involves both of you and it has to do with sparkling eyes and Fleur not showing something yet.” Charlie had his eyes narrowed, scratching the stubble on his cheek.

Bill, Fleur, and I were watching him solve this mystery, hardly keeping it together. Bill pretended to help Aoede with the puzzle while Fleur and I avoided eye contact not to start laughing. After about 30 seconds of Charlie's gaze switching between his brother and his sister-in-law, his eyes widened in realization.

“Fleur, you're pregnant!” Charlie put his hands over his mouth as Fleur nodded excitedly.

“Not you too!” Before either Charlie and I had a chance to congratulate them Aoede decided to share her opinion on the matter.

“Aoede, you should hug Bill and Fleur and be excited with them,” I said gently and got bestowed with a frown from my daughter.

“Yeah, don't you want a cousin to play with?” Charlie added.

“No!” Aoede stood up, shaking her head. “Couldn't you do this soonel so mum didn't have to get anothel baby?”

Bill and Fleur stared at her with their mouth open. They heard and knew about Aoede not agreeing with mine and Charlie's choice to have another child but they have never witnessed it until now.

“Aoede, that's enough!” Charlie said with a warning voice.

Aoede, who had her mouth slightly opened – ready to say something else – turned to her dad, frowned some more then sat back down in front of her puzzle pretending to search for a piece even though the puzzle was completed and sniffed so silently that I almost didn't catch it.

Bill and Fleur silently exchanged a look while I glared at Charlie who has never risen his voice at Aoede before and even though we couldn't enjoy and celebrate this pregnancy as we did with the first one due to Aoede always having something to say about it, we agreed to be patient with her in the hopes that she would come around.

“Uhm, I need some fresh air,” Bill cleared his throat, “don't you need some fresh air too, Charles?”

Bill nudged his brother and they both stood up. I smiled appreciatively at him and mouthed congratulations not saying it out loud not to get another negative reaction from Aoede.

When they closed the door leading to the back porch behind them, Fleur and I joined Aoede on the floor.

“Sweetheart...”

“Not now, mum. I am busy.” Aoede pretended to sigh, thinking she could hide that she was sobbing.

“Can we 'elp you?” Fleur tilted her head, hoping Aoede would look at her.

“No,” Aoede shook her head, “no, thank you, auntie Fleul.” She tried mustering a smile but failed and instead of her lips curving, she shed another tear.

“Aoede...” I searched for anything to say to her.

It was breaking my heart seeing her this way, trying to hold in the tears and pretending that Charlie's warning voice didn't hurt her.

“Shh, mum. I'm playing.” Aoede lifted her hand at me to stop me from saying anything else.

“Let's give 'er some space,” Fleur whispered to me and stood up.

I was observing my daughter for a moment or so more before Fleur nudged me with her foot to join her.

Charlie

“That was something,” Bill said after we were sitting on the bench in silence for a moment.

“Yeah. I don't know what got over me. I never raised my voice at her before.” I shook my head.

I was ashamed of myself – it was wrong and I should've handled the situation better.

“Yeah, it was evident that this never happened before,” Bill said gently.

“Nova and I promised to each other that we won't talk about the pregnancy in front of her and I guess it just got to me. We were so excited to have another baby and you know I want a bigger family and I just wish Aoede would share that excitement with us.” I pressed my fingers into my eyes.

“She'll come around. I was even younger when dad told me mum was pregnant with you and I was in complete shock trying to convince them that they were wrong.” Bill laughed.

“Wait what?” I asked, incredulously. “You never told me this before.”

“Yeah, I was mad and did not want you at all and now look at us. I can't imagine my life without you.” Bill put an arm around my shoulders and ruffled my hair.

“But you were always so nice and took care of me.”

“Yeah, you and your cute freckles grew on me.” He winked at me.

“How long did you need to warm up to me?” I wanted to know.

“You would have to ask mum that. I only remember that I threw a tantrum when I had to stay with aunt Muriel when you were being born. Don't you remember how angry you were when mum was pregnant with Percy? You were about Aoede's age.” Bill giggled.

“I do not remember that at all,” I answered honestly.

“We were both mad. I liked the idea of just being the two of us and when our parents told us that they will have another baby they ruined that fantasy and I remember we made a pact about not liking the baby.” Bill was clapping his hand against his knee, laughing so much.

“So we should expect the alliance between Aoede and our second-born when we'll have the third one?” I playfully shook my head.

“Yeah, get ready for that.” Bill gasped for air.

“Thank you for telling me this, Bill. I feel more hopeful that Aoede will come around but even worse about shouting at her.” I bowed my head.

“You're welcome and you'll apologize to her.”

“Mhm,” I mumbled, looking up at the starry sky.

“So you still don't know the gender of the baby?” He asked after us being silent for a few minutes.

“Nope. We loved the surprise when the doctor told us Aoede is a girl and we want to do the same this time around.” I grinned.

“I don't think we'll be able to do it.” Bill rubbed his chin. “We're just so excited, you know!”

“Oh, now I can finally say congratulations!” I embraced my brother. “I can't believe I'm going to be a dad again within a month and an uncle in...”

“About 8 months.” Bill finished my sentence. “And thank you. Fleur isn't even a month in so you are the only ones who know for now.”

“Understandable.” I nodded.

“So,” Bill nudged me with his elbow, “any fatherly wisdom to share?”

“I can't believe there is something I can lecture you about and not the other way around.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, you beat me to it.” Bill joined me.

“Well, up until the moment you witnessed inside before, I reckon we have been pretty great with our daughter. Treat your child as an adult and talk to them and pay them attention and value their opinion as much as you can. Children are smarter than we give them credit for and always listen to what they like and try making them happy with those things.” I pursed my lips, trying to think of more things.

“How about the pregnancy? Is it normal to feel left out?”

“Oh, yeah. I felt terrible when Nova had morning sickness and I couldn't do anything about it.” I sighed. “But I have learned that just being there for her and encourage her and tell her she is doing great goes a long way.” I grinned.

“Right.” Bill was focused, taking every word I said in.

“Also, try and do as much as you can around the house and for her so she can have a proper rest.”

“Of course.”

“Oh, and massage her feet every time you remember. I know Nova would kill for a foot massage especially in the final months when their feet get really swollen.” I explained.

“Got it.” Bill nodded.

“Other than that just be excited and celebrate every moment. Honestly, we were obsessed with Aoede before she was even born.” I giggled. “You mean how you told her stories and sang to her while she was still in Nova's belly?” Bill sniggered.

“How do you know about that?” I felt the heat on my cheeks.

“Nova wrote me about it.” He winked at me.

“Well, it's sweet and you'll turn all mushy too once you become a dad.” I lifted my chin, proudly.

“I have no doubt about that. I can't wait.” Bill couldn't hide the excitement in his voice.

“You're going to be a great dad.” I patted him on the back.

“If I'm half a father you are, I'll be proud of myself.” He smiled at me and I couldn't help but return it – that compliment meant a lot to me.

Bill was always better in most things we did and he always beat me in everything. But I guess when it comes to being married and having children, I was more experienced and it felt nice to give him advice instead of receiving it for a change.

“Speaking of being a good father...” I cleared my throat and looked at the door.

“Go, go talk to your little girl.” Bill encouraged me and we stood up.

Nova

“She obviously wanted to be alone,” Fleur said in a low voice when we sat down at the kitchen table, my eyes still on Aoede.

“I know but – “ I pressed my lips together.

I knew that if I would say another word my voice would break and I would start to cry – my hormones were getting the best of me. We found the whole thing about Aoede not wanting a sibling funny and we knew that sooner or later she would warm up to the baby but now that I saw how hurt she was when Charlie stopped her from sharing her opinion with us, I realized how serious this was for her.

“Waz zis ze first time Charlie raised 'is voice at 'er?” Fleur put her hand over mine.

“Yes.” I nodded and finally turned to her.

“It must've shocked 'er,” Fleur said understandingly. “Mhm.” I hummed not really knowing what to say.

“Are you okay? I can zee zis is eating you alive,” Fleur said with concern in her voice.

“I have no memories of how I was when I was her age and being an only child I never had to deal with such information and it pains me that I can't relate to her or help her get through this.” I brushed the tear that ran down my cheek away.

“I 'ad no idea she iz zo against it.” Fleur was a bit shocked.

“Yeah, it came to a point where Charlie and I started to question if we made a mistake getting pregnant again.” I sighed, remembering all the moments when Aoede got mad when we discussed anything about the pregnancy.

“But you want a bigger family.” Fleur tried cheering me up.

“That's true but the first time around, we celebrated – just me and Charlie. This time we wanted Aoede to join us and share this happy moment with us and she is just not having it and how are we supposed to be excited about it when our daughter is completely miserable over it?”

“She will come around, trust me. I waz ze same.” Fleur chuckled.

“You were?” I brushed another tear away before looking at her.

“Of course! I zink all children are. When my parents told me about being pregnant with Gabrielle I wanted to run away from 'ome!” Fleur laughed, reminiscing on the memory.

“And when did you come around?” I sniffed, a bit cheered up.

“When zey brought 'er from ze 'ospital. When I saw 'er and saw that my parents wanted to include me and still loved me ze same, I calmed down and in a few weeks I was prepared to die for 'er.” Fleur sent me a smile.

“I hope she will be the same.” I looked back at Aoede, who was still sitting in the same position.

“Trust me, you 'ave nothing to worry about. You celebrate your second baby without worry.” Fleur stood up and hugged me tightly – as tightly as my big belly allowed her.

“Thank you, Fleur. Your words really eased my mind.” I murmured.

“Any time.” Fleur smiled and sat back down.

“And congratulations. I am so happy for you two.” I tried to sound excited and whisper at the same time, not wanting to upset Aoede again.

“Zank you! We couldn't be 'appier!” Fleur clapped her hands together.

“How far along are you?” I wanted to know.

“About three weeks. We are not telling anyone else yet but we wanted to tell you.” Fleur was shaking from excitement.

“Oh, our babies are going to be so close in age!” I jumped in my seat.

“I know! I never thought we are going to be pregnant togezer!” Fleur grinned. “Any tips?”

“Well, be prepared for the morning sickness which kicks in at about six weeks, and try to not overwork yourself even though you feel very energetic. Listen to your body even if it has weird food combinations in mind for you to try,” I giggled, “and ask Bill to often massage your feet. That feels so good when they get all swollen.”

“Oh, I can believe that!” Fleur chuckled.

“Other than that, listen to what your doctor says and advises you and try not to think about it too much and with that I mean just try and continue your daily life as much as you can. I went to work until my 5th month and I would continue to go if Charlie wouldn't protest so much.” I playfully rolled my eyes.

“Do you think Bill will be ze same?” She laughed.

“Oh, yes, most definitely! Be prepared for that!” I joined her.

After our giggles quieted down, I looked at Aoede again.

“I will try talking to her again,” I said to Fleur and stood up.

Right when I reached her, Charlie returned with Bill.

“Love, let me handle this.” He whispered to me, avoiding my eyes.

“No, I can do it.”

“Please, I feel bad. Let me fix my mistake.” Charlie pleaded. “I shouldn't have reacted as I did and I want to apologize to you too. We promised we will give her time and I snapped.”

“Okay.” I smiled at him and kissed him on the lips.

I watched him sit down next to Aoede and then joined Bill on the sofa, who welcomed me with his arms wide open.

Charlie

“Pumpkin, can I sit next to you?” I asked Aoede with a gentle voice.

“Yes,” Aoede replied, her head bowed down, looking at the puzzle.

“Do you have the time to talk?”

“Mhm.” She mumbled.

“Daddy wants to apologize for how he talked to you earlier. I was wrong and I am sorry.” I wanted to hug her so badly but I knew we weren't there yet.

“It's okay dad, I undelstand,” Aoede said with her cute voice.

“It's not okay,” I shook my head, “I shouldn't have lost my temper with you.”

“But you love the baby.” Aoede finally looked up at me, her red and puffy eyes broke my heart.

“I do, Pumpkin, but that doesn't mean I love you any less.” I dared to move a bit closer to her.

“I just don't want anything to change,” Aoede sighed, “I like that it's just you, me, and mum.”

“I know, Pumpkin but as mum and I told you before, nothing will change. We will still love you the same, treat you the same, give you the attention and play with you.” I ruffled her soft hair.

“You plomise?” Aoede bestowed me with the sweetest puppy eyes that I have ever gotten.

“I swear on my job.” I crossed my heart and smiled at her.

“But,” Aoede gasped loudly, “daddy, you love youl job!”

“Exactly, but I love you and mum and the baby more so that's how you know that I am not lying to you.” I gestured for her to sit in my lap and she climbed over my leg.

“Okay,” Aoede took a deep breath, “I will tly and do bettel.”

“Aoede, it's okay. I understand. Your uncle Bill and I were the same when we found out about your uncle Percy. I know how you feel now and I shouldn't have reacted as I did. I should've been more patient with you and give you time.” I frowned, still disappointed in myself.

“Do you and mum want this baby?” Aoede looked up at me.

“As much as you want to see a unicorn.”

“That much?” Aoede stared at me in awe. “But that is a lot!”

“Yes, that much.”

“Okay, daddy. I will tly to want the baby too.” Aoede pushed more into my body and I wrapped my arms tighter around her.

“You will?” I asked surprised, not expecting this outcome at all.

“I will. I sweal on a unicoln.”

I gasped dramatically, knowing how much unicorns mean to her, and made her giggle. As she turned around and looked at me lovingly with her big blue eyes, it warmed my heart knowing that we will be just fine.

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter fanfiction #hphm charlie #charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #hogwarts mystery mc #the weasleys #hphm fanfiction #hp imagine #charlie weasley x oc #hphm imagine #charlie weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #the burrow

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roberttchase · 3 years

Note

Brettsey prompt - established brettsey relationship and jealous Sylvie.

Have some cute Brettsey with kids! They are from my Must Love Dog series. This is set in the future. I will be writing more with them but for now, have a tiny little sliver.

At four, almost five years old, Adelaide Casey is going to be the death of Matt. Whether it’s from her curious, independent personality, or him being wrapped around her finger, he’s not sure which. It’s early; barely eight am, but the little girl has been restless since Sylvie left for her usual cycle-bar lesson, and she’s been asking for the past twenty minutes straight to go to the park.

Matt’s usually pretty good at tuning things out (he had to be when Otis and Cruz were galavanting around the firehouse), but the relentless determination his daughter seems to have woken up with is finally cutting through the barrier. That, or he just can’t say no to her. Looking at where she’s laying splayed across the couch, playing with two small animal figurines, he smiles. He sends a quick text to Sylvie, then walks over.

“Go get dressed and we can go.” The words make the tiny girl freeze, then she hops up, grinning and all but running up to her room.

They’ve been working on letting Addy dress herself more, and make more decisions, instead of just telling her. It’s definitely an ‘Addy-day’ as she so affectionately calls them, because when she reappears a few minutes later, she’s dressed herself and looks proud. Looking her over, Matt thinks it could definitely be worse. He and Sylvie have been explaining to her about the weather lately, and how to dress accordingly. It’s September, and the little black and white striped leggings with panda faces on the knees, paired with her favorite short sleeve shirt that reads ‘Jedi in Training’, should easily be enough to keep her warm.

“Can you put my hair up like Mama’s please?” Big blue eyes look up at him and Matt is amazed (as always) how much she looks like Sylvie.

“Of course. Do you think you can sit still for me long enough?” He teases, taking the hair brush and hair tie from her little hands, leading them to the living room. She sits on the coffee table while he sits on the couch behind her, brushing her wild mess of long, curly blonde hair.

“Papa, do you think Mama will wanna to get a donut after? She’ll be real hungry from the bike, right?”

Matt snorts as the hair tie hangs loosely between his teeth, pulling her hair up before catching it all with it, pulling it through to make a ponytail.

“She might be. Are you still hungry? We have more oatmeal and banana,” he offers, knowing exactly what game she’s playing at. He can’t help the smile taking over his face.

“No! I’m allll full. Jus’worried ‘bout Mama.”

“It’s very sweet of you to worry. When she finishes and meets us at the park you can ask,” Matt suggests, kissing her head. “You ready to head out, Chief?”

“Yes sir!” She gives him a mock salute and he laughs, following her to put their shoes on.

“Can we take Beau? I’ll walk him!” She freezes in the middle of the hallway, making Matt stumble.

“...we can. But only if he wants to go. Go find him and ask okay?” Another thing they’ve been working on- everyone has feelings, even animals. You have to ask before assuming someone wants to do something.

Moments later, while Matt’s pulling on his Nikes, Addy comes back with Beau trailing her, little nub wagging wildly. Matt nods and grabs Beau’s leash off of the hook near the door to the garage, handing it to her. She clips it on and grabs her sunglasses, another new development lately.

“Let’s head out. We can go to the park a few blocks away, yeah? The one with the tire swing?” When he gets an excited smile and wiggle, Matt lets her out into the front yard and locks up.

The walk doesn’t take long, and Matt, as always, is impressed with how well she walks their little frenchie. They get to the park that’s blissfully empty, though he’s not surprised. It’s early enough most kids are just waking up. He’s sure that Andy, their two year old, is just waking up with his Aunt Stella, Uncle Kelly, and their three year old (his best friend) Jackson. Sleepovers with the two are common, enough so that they know they’ll happen twice a week. Addy prefers Cruz’s twins, even if they’re almost two years older than her. Beau starts sniffing around near Matt, extending his leash to the longest it can be.

“Want me to come with you, or do you want to explore and play alone for a bit?” Options, Matt reminds himself, as his daughter thinks them over.

“Alone, but together later?”

“Of course. Go play.” With a smile, Matt watches Addy run over to the large structure, climbing up the little fake rock wall. They’ve come a long way from three months prior, when she was scared to do it on her own. Now she’s handling it like it’s nothing, and Matt couldn’t be more proud. Around ten minutes later, a mom and her two girls who seem to be around Addy’s age appear, and within seconds all three girls are talking and playing.

“They seem to be getting along,” the mom, a red head says, walking over. “Normally Katie’s pretty shy, but she seems to be warming up to your daughter quickly. I’m Elise.”

Matt’s never been one to just talk to other parents, that’s Sylvie’s specialty. He’s of course capable of making small talk, but his reserved nature makes him weary of it. Giving the woman a smile, he nods.

“Addy’s pretty quick to make friends,” he supplies, not fully sure he even wants to give her name out, but it seems rude not to. The girls look well adjusted enough, and his paranoia is put to rest when he sees their features resemble the woman’s next to him. “Matt, nice to meet you,” he adds. Beau snorts and Matt can’t help but laugh. “And this is Beau.”

They talk about their kids, and Matt’s unsure if he’s imagining it; he’s never been good at picking up signals, but it feels like Elise is flirting with him. He’s suddenly, acutely aware he doesn’t have his wedding ring on, doesn’t have it at all, actually. An accident a few months back involving cribbing being dropped on his hand and swelling had resulted in his ring finger swelling enough they’d had to cut his ring off. He definitely needs to get it replaced.

As the minutes tick by, Matt relaxes a bit. Elise is nice enough, and maybe she really is just being friendly. He can’t imagine her flirting with her kids so near by. Or...maybe not. The redhead is inching closer to him on the bench, and the firefighter tries not to look uncomfortable. Before he can say anything else, he hears Addy yell ‘mama’ at the top of her lungs. Looking up, Matt sees Sylvie walking towards them, breathtakingly beautiful. Though she may have just come from spin class, she’s still the prettiest woman in the world, blue eyes bright and smile wide.

Elise, for her part, looks only slightly thrown for a loop. He watches her smile tighten as Sylvie walks over. There’s something unreadable in her expression that Matt can’t quite place.

“Hey sweetheart,” Matt stands and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Hey love. Hi! I’m Sylvie, Matt’s wife. Nice to meet you.”

Elise’s eyes are calculating, then she huffs. “Elise.”

Watching the interaction, Matt feels like he’s missing something, but with the way Sylvie is suddenly eyeing the woman, he thinks that maybe his first assumption of Elise flirting with him was right. By now, Addy’s next to them, clambering to try and get into Sylvie’s arms, one of her favorite places to be. Sylvie, while still reaching down to hold her, keeps eye contact with the other mom, cocking an eyebrow.

“I think we’d better get going,” Elise informs them, when her twins start making their way over. When Sylvie doesn’t reply, Matt speaks up.

“It was great meeting you!”

“Likewise Matt.”

When the family is walking off, he turns back to his wife, looking at her curiously. “What was that?”

“She was flirting with you, and needed to be put in her place.”

Matt’s not sure what to do with the information that Sylvie is jealous, and not only that, she’s adorable when she’s jealous, like a grumpy cat.

“Mama, can we go get donuts? You must be reaaallll hungry after workin’ out….”

#my fic #prompts #matt casey #sylvie brett #brettsey #mld

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rainydayhogwartsimagines · 3 years

Note

Hey so I really don’t know how to request stuff, but like I love your posts and I love Freddie so here we go

Freddie and the weasleys go visit the muggle world but the States and meet this amazing girl (aka y/n) while at a carnival. He falls head over heels the moment he sees her and they talk for a while, he believes she’s a muggle, however when they go back to hogwarts, she ends up being the new transfer student :o

But it’s okay if you don’t do it! It’s just a little idea maybe you can take some inspo off it ❤️

America was a lot bigger than Charlie told the Weasleys... And Harry. It was massive as they stood on the side walk. "airplanes. How fascinating!" Arthur said making all of the kids groan in response. "We. Know." Ginny sighed. "You talked about it for three hours on the plane!" Ron whined.

"Mum! Dad!" Someone said from across the street. He ran over and waved. "You guys made it!" Charlie said. "Yes and we're quite tired, where are we staying?" Molly asked. "Oh, it's two blocks from here, come on." Charlie said. The group walked, looking around at the scenery. "A carnival is in town tomorrow, you guys are totally going." Charlie said. Fred rose a brow. "Carnival? Like something from the movies?" He asked. "What expecting a summer romance?" Charlie asked jokingly. "No I--" Fred then noticed the long haired girl walking down the steps of the subway, face looking focused as you walked. "No." He cleared his throat. "Ohh he saw something pretty." Ginny teased. "Shut it." He said, roughing up her hair.

Fred didn't think much about the carnival idea. In fact this trip over all wasn't very exciting to him. Ron and Harry shared a room, Fred and George shared one and Ginny was the lucky one on her own. Fred looked out the window and Charlie walked in. "You guys ready to goooo?" He asked. "Yeah. Tell me this won't be dull." Fred said. "It won't be dull." Charlie assured.

So there Fred stood, screams of citizens going on as they rode rides, attractions that muggles of course found interesting with their naive minds and then... You. Fred didn't think much of this but you sat at a picnic table talking to someone. Your hair was in a ponytail, pulled back by a black ribbon and you wore a red cardigan despite the warm weather. Your smile was something he was captivated by, his lips parting as he saw it. Charlie rose a brow, following his brother's gaze before you looked over. "Charlie!" You said running over. Fred blinked.

"Y/n! Hi!" Charlie greeted. You gave him a small hug and you chuckled. "Glad to see you came, Sam's over there if you wanna talk to her." You said with finger guns. He chuckled and shook his head. "This is my brother Fred. Keep his sane will you?" Charlie asked. "I got it! Go go!" You shoved him to the table and ran back over. "What was that about?" Fred asked. "Charlie has a thing for my friend. This was a set up." You chuckled. You turned to Fred. "So you're Fred. Where's George?" You asked, cocking your head to the side like a confused dog. "...You know about George?" Fred asked. "Yeah, Charlie talks to me all the time." You nodded. "George is with Ginny." Fred said slowly, looking at you. "What's wrong?" You asked. "I... How do you know Charlie?" He asked. "My dad owns a coffee shop that I work at during the summer and Charlie is a regular." You said. Oh... So you were... A muggle.

Fred nodded and you rose a brow. "So, you wanna do something?" You asked curiously, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your heels. "uhh... Sure.. I don't know anything here though." He admitted. "Well in two hours there's going to be a banana derby." You said. Fred blinked. "A what?" He asked. "Spider monkeys riding on the back of dogs like it's a derby." You said. He blinked and gaped slightly. "What the hell are you Americans on?" Fred asked. "Freedom.... Too much freedom. But freedom." You answered. Fred snorted and you both started laughing.

"Well what's there to do now?" Fred finally asked. "Well there's rides but they're way too fucking loud and have a tendency to break down." You said. "No." Fred shuddered at the thought. Course he could easily fix something. "There's food that will cause you to probably die by thirty." You said. Fred rose a brow before seeing a kid walk by with a deep fried oreo. "I am understanding this 'too much freedom' comment you made." Fred said with a shudder. "There's games that are totally rigged but still kind of fun." You said. "That sounds kind of appealing compared to rotting your insides and potentially having a hospital trip." Fred said. "Rigged games it is!" You chuckled.

Fred followed you around, watching you laugh at many failed attempts with a baseball and hitting targets. "God your bad at this." You laughed. "Okay, you try it then!" Fred laughed. You picked up a baseball and hit the target making Fred raise a brow. "America's favorite pastime." You said, throwing the next ball up, it falling back into your hand and you hitting the next target. "How are you doing that?" Fred asked. You chuckled and stood behind Fred. "straighten your legs a little." You instructed. "Now pull your arm back." You said, guiding his arm with your hands. God they were so soft and small. "Wow..." You muttered, feeling the muscle that Fred had. Quidditch was a God send in this moment. "Like something?" He asked with a chuckle. "Throw the ball idiot." You blushed, letting go. He hit the target. "Pick your prize." The attendant said in a monotone voice. "What do you want?" Fred asked. "....Uuuh.. that weird ass mole platypus looking thing." You said pointing to the unidentifiable stuffed animal. "It's also a backpack." The attendant muttered. "BRO THAT'S SO COOL" you gaped, pulling it onto your back. Fred snorted, seeing you hop around with the creature on your back. If Fred weren't at a muggle based carnival he would almost call the backpack a niffler.

Fred spent most of the evening with you, talking to you and discovering you actually were moving to Scotland soon. Charlie befriended you so you'd know at least one person out there. "Why are you moving?" He asked. "Mom got a new job out there. She's an archeologist." You said. "Ah." Fred nodded. "what about you, what do your parents do?" You asked. "Uhm." Fuck, how should he answer that? "Mum's a stay at home mother and my dad... Works a desk job." He said. Not technically a lie. "Hmm." You nodded. "What do you want to be exactly?" Fred asked. "Welll... That's a little hard to explain." You admitted. "I'm used to weird." Fred chuckled. You smiled slightly. "Uhm... I want to study--" "Y/N!!!!!" someone called making you sigh. "I'll be right back." You huffed.

The girl from earlier was talking to you, smiling and you rolled your eyes. You came back over and snorted. "What was that?" Fred asked. "Charlie asked Sam out. Officially." You laughed. "and she needed to tell you?" Fred asked. "Sam tells me everything. I'm really going to miss her when I move." You said with a sigh. Fred put his hand over yours and you looked up, Fred giving you a reassuring look. You smiled at him and he kissed your knuckles. "On the bright side... I can see you in Scotland." Fred said. You smiled at that comment and laughed. "I suppose that is true."

The evening carried on, you and Fred watching the insane event of a 'Banana derby' before spending time in a photo booth. Fred had never taken muggle pictures that stayed still. He was smiling at you in most of them. But something crazy happened. You smiled back at him once you realized he was looking at you and before either of you knew it, his lips were on yours. The last flash made you two aware of where you were. You let out a breathless laugh against his forehead. "This is absolutely wild." You said. "I tend to like wild." Fred said. "Well clearly, you just kissed me." You snorted. You climbed out, handing him a photo strip. Fred smiled and you put another strip in your wallet.

"Fred! Time to go!" Someone called. You shifted and he pressed a kiss to you one last time. You savored that feeling. The warmth, the hold he made sure he had on you to make you feel secure, his breath. All of it. "Fred!" Someone called again. "I'll get your address and write to you from Charlie." You said. "okay." He said with a slightly pained smile. He ran off and you shook your head with a smile.

Fred was positive he wasn't going to see you again though. After all... You weren't a wizard. You wouldn't be walking the halls of Hogwarts, you'd be somewhere in Scotland with your family. Fred seemed disappointed as he thought about it more. He wasn't going to see you again.

The day finally came when he sat at the breakfast table in the burrow. Charlie was there to spend time at home for a little while. "So I heard from a little bird that you got along with Y/n." Charlie said. "Yeah." Fred said, seeming sad at the mention. "She's a crazy girl that one, she wants to do what I do." Charlie said. "What fake job did you give her?" George asked. Charlie rose a brow confused. "Wait, she's not--" "Get the car ready Arthur, they've got to go soon." Molly said. "God I miss hogwarts." Charlie said. "Honestly, me too." Bill agreed. Fred got up, getting dressed and finishing packing.

The train ride was long and silent, his thoughts of course drifting to you. What was Charlie going to say before Molly cut him off? He swore for a couple of seconds he saw you on the platform. He knew that wasn't possible. He sat in the great hall, head on his hand. "Oh my God, Fred. Stop moping." George sighed. "Sorry." Fred said not thinking. Dumbledore went through the sorting of first years and he applauded in silence. "And before we begin the opening feast I'd like to introduce Gryffindor's newest member." The door opened behind Dumbledore and Fred's eyes widened as you brushed ash off your cloak. "Y/n L/n.... Uhm... What happened?" Dumbledore asked as you coughed out smoke. "Charlie Weasley happened." You said making a few people laugh.

Dumbledore used a quick cleaning spell and you were as good as new before you saw Fred. He swallowed, looking at you and you stepped down, him getting up and practically sprinting to you. He scooped you into his arms and you laughed. "Surprised?" You asked. "When the hell were you going to tell me you were a wizard!?" Fred asked, cupping your face. You furrowed your brow. "Charlie never told you-- I am kicking your brother's ass." You said making him laugh. "I work part time with your brother during the summers. I'm on a scholarship for dragon studies. You seriously haven't heard about the girl who has the weird friendships with the dragons?" You asked. "Oh my God that was you!?" Fred asked. "Yes!" You laughed before Fred scattered kisses across your face. You smiled and George blinked. "SHE'S REAL!?" he asked making Fred look over. "YES YOU MORON!" Fred said making you laugh hard.

He spent his morning showing you around, him keeping an arm around you, or holding your hand the entire time. Fred would sometimes just look at you. No talking. No comments. Just look. And he knew instantly by listening to you that you were the one.

Taglist: @amhyeah @newtaholic-staygold @bbeauttyybbx @fleurho @yodeadxss @mariah-can-dream

#fred weasley x you #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader

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searchingwardrobes · 3 years

Text

Not the Type: 5/7

The muse has awakened! I feel awful for keeping ya'll waiting so long (5 months? seriously?!) for an update on this fic. I actually decided to split this chapter up once it reached 2k because I didn't want you waiting any longer for another chapter. So, this will now be 7 chapters plus an epilogue. Much thanks to my beta @hookedonapirate for untangling my awkward wording and making me sound so much better! You have a way of getting what I'm trying to say and making it flow. What would I do without you? Thanks to the @captainswanmoviemarathon mods for being so patient and understanding when I had to put this on the back burner. And finally, thank you to my dear friend @snowbellewells for helping me get the muse kickstarted again on this fic. You rock!

Oh, and fun fact: The part in this chapter about Ruby’s cheer injury really happened - to me when I was a cheerleader long, long ago . . .

Summary: Emma Swan first notices him in the stands at the Friday night football game. She can tell right away Killian Jones is not the football type. Then again, she’s not the cheerleader type either, but here she is with pom poms. Life hasn’t ever gone the way Emma planned. Lately, that’s actually been a good thing. Maybe Killian Jones is a good thing, too.

My loose Captain Swan AU of the movie Bring it On

Rating: T

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @xhookswenchx @let-it-raines @bethacaciakay @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @spartanguard @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @profdanglaisstuff @ohmakemeahercules @carpedzem @branlovestowrite @superchocovian @sherlockwhovian @hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @itsfabianadocarmo @lassluna

Chapter Five

“You’ve got to let go of me for one second,” Emma giggled, her tone and the fact that she was simultaneously wrapping her free arm tighter around Killian’s waist completely contradicting her words.

“Do as I say, not as I do, hm?”

“I’m trying to get the mail!”

“So?”

“So you’re kissing my neck.”

“Hm, so I am.”

He flashed her a dazzling smile, his blue eyes slightly dazed, like he was drunk on love or something. Love? Emma wriggled free of his embrace as the word penetrated her lust filled, teenage brain. They couldn’t be in love or anything like that. This wasn’t a 90's rom com or something.

Killian was unfazed by her sudden distance, his hands still finding purchase on her elbow and hip; her hair still tickling his nose and mouth. She reached into the mailbox, pulled out an unusually thick stack and started flipping through it as Killian snaked his arms around her waist from behind and propped his chin on her shoulder. Emma wasn’t surprised to see college brochures; they had begun coming with increasing regularity now that she and her brother were juniors. One white envelope with blue writing gave her pause, however. It was addressed to her, and this was no brochure. It was a very official looking letter. Emma’s hands trembled as she tore it open.

“What is it?” Killian mumbled the question, far more interested in her neck at the moment.

Emma scanned the contents of the letter, and the more the words sank in, the more she trembled. So much so that the rest of the mail went fluttering to the sidewalk. Killian was finally pulled away from his obsession with her neck and spoke his next question with deep concern.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah . . . I, um,” she swallowed hard as conflicting emotions swirled in her brain. “The University of Kentucky is interested in recruiting me for their cheerleading squad.”

“That’s amazing, Swan!”

“You have no idea,” Emma said softly as she sank down onto the front step of her apartment building.

Killian gathered up the rest of the mail, then came and sat next to her. “Then continue in my cheerleading education, love.”

Emma chuckled, though she was also touched by the obvious interest he held in her pursuits, even if they weren’t necessarily in line with his.

“UK has the best cheer program in the country,” Emma explained. “They’ve won an insane number of national titles, probably more than any other college. You don’t just make the squad, you get a full ride. They’re that good.”

Killian lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “See? I knew you were bloody brilliant.”

Emma returned his bright smile with a shaky one of her own. “You’re so sweet.”

“You’re not excited about this?”

Emma bit her lip, staring at the letter in her hands until the words started to blur together. “I am. It’s just . . . this means they’ll be sending recruiters to our competitions. That’s a lot of pressure.”

“I’m sure you’ll rise to the occasion.”

Emma’s lips lifted in a half-hearted smile. Her head collapsed onto his shoulder, and he brushed his lips against her forehead.

“A full ride . . . “

She let the thought fade into the air. How could she screw up an offer like this? It would help Ruth out so much, and her brother, too.

Yeah, no pressure.

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

“Hey, Em!”

One of Ruby’s dirty socks bounced off Emma’s head and landed in her lap. With a disgusted grumble, she batted it to the floor.

“Rubes, that’s gross!”

“Well, you’re sitting there, staring into space. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly embarrassed to put that thing on in front of everybody.”

Emma looked down at the sports bra still clutched in her right hand. They all learned early on that there was no modest way to squeeze your boobs into a sports bra, so the squad basically had to get real comfortable around each other real fast. And contrary to every teen movie ever made, there was nothing sexy about it. It was just athletes being a team in the locker room.

You know, like male athletes.

“Oh God, she’s contemplating sexism in sports again,” Ariel groaned.

“She is!” crowed Ruby. “Look how she’s staring at that sports bra!”

“You mean this torture device?” Emma quipped, waving the garment in the air like a feminist about to burn something.

“She isn’t wrong,” Mary Margaret put in.

“Well, I for one am thankful for the torture device,” Jasmine piped up.

“Here we go again,” groaned Tiana.

“It’s true!” Jasmine cried out. “I don’t want the girls flopping around. It hurts!”

“While this discussion is incredibly enlightening,” a voice said dryly from the doorway, “I’d prefer we start running our competition routine, if you ladies don’t mind.”

They all mumbled apologies to Coach Ava, along with promises to get out of the locker room as quickly as possible. Emma shed her blouse and regular bra, then struggled her way into her sports bra before slipping a cheer camp t-shirt over her head. She paused before one of the cracked mirrors that hung above a row of ancient porcelain sinks that dated back to the 1950s. Being a girls’ team that didn’t really bring in any ticket sales, the cheerleading squad was relegated to practicing in the old gym. It could've been worse, however. The seniors remembered their freshman year, before the new gym was built, when the cheerleaders were forced to practice in the atrium at the front of the school. The atrium was great for painting bust-throughs, but Emma couldn’t imagine having to practice there.

As Emma tugged her hair into a messy ponytail, she thought of the letter she had shoved in the front pocket of her backpack. She'd planned on showing it to Ruby and Mary Margaret, but for some reason, she'd lost her nerve. She sighed as she made her way out of the locker room. Letter or no letter, she had to get her head on straight.

As usual, the girls started off running a mile around the gym, and just like every other practice, Emma started off keeping pace with Ruby and Mary Margaret. Her mind was still a million miles away, however.

In Kentucky, she supposed. The bluegrass state. Was the grass really blue? I mean, it couldn’t be. How can grass be blue?

“Hey,” Ruby panted, leaning over her knees when the run was over, “what’s with you?”

“What’s what?”

Emma’s brow furrowed as she did a calf stretch. She was always getting charley horses in the middle of the night during competition season. Ruth kept bugging her to eat a banana every day, but she despised bananas. They were so mushy . . .

“Earth to Emma,” Mary Margaret laughed.

Ruby snapped her fingers in Emma’s face.

“What happened to the Emma we know and love?” she asked. “You know, the one who leaves us in the dust every practice, laughing her ass off the whole way?”

“It’s not my fault you two do a leisurely jog instead of a run.”

“Running is what you do when you’re being chased,” Mary Margaret countered. It was her usual argument.

Ruby narrowed her eyes at Emma. “You’re avoiding my question.”

“Lunges, girls, across the gym floor!” shouted Coach Ava, saving Emma from responding. She lined up with the rest of the squad along one side of the gym, then stepped forward with her right leg, her hands on her hips.

“Is it Killian?” Ruby hissed at her left.

“No!”

“Just drop it,” Mary Margaret snapped.

“Yeah,” Emma grunted as she lowered herself into another lunge, “it’s kinda hard to talk and do these at the same time.”

“Tiana, I wanna see a right angle on those lunges!” their coach called out. “Ruby, you might be able to keep your balance if you stop exercising your mouth!”

Emma laughed loudly as Ruby wobbled and almost went down. “Yeah, Rubes, I’d concentrate if I were you.”

And just to rub her friend’s face in it, Emma sped up her lunges, reaching the other side of the gym first.

“Excellent job,” Coach Ava praised her. “Smooth, with speed, and you didn’t lose your form.”

Ruby practically growled when Emma threw a smirk her way.

They did a few more drills, warmed up their tumbling with a few simple passes, then gathered on the mats to go through their routine. Coach Ava was still making a few simple changes, but for the most part, it was now all about committing it to muscle memory. They needed to be able to practically do the routine in their sleep by the time December rolled around. And that was only five weeks away.

The girls got into position, and the music started. They were opening with a tumbling peel off. The girls in the front did a standing back handspring, the girls in the middle a standing back tuck, and then . . .

Emma got to shine as she kept going. Out of a standing back tuck, into two back handsprings, and then finally into a full twisting double back as the music crescendoed. Usually, Emma’s adrenaline had her ending the pass with a huge smile on her face, but today she under-rotated and almost landed flat on her face. She tried to shake it off, but in the team’s first pyramid, she started to lose her balance, almost taking the rest of the team down with her. Emma chastised herself to get it together as her stunt group moved into position for their next stunt - a twist up

Their “theme” this year was hair. They whipped their ponytails a lot in the dance portion, and every song had to do with hair. In the next stunt, Emma had to pull up on her ponytail while she twisted up into an arabesque, as if she was pulling herself up by her hair.

It was a little like patting her head and rubbing her stomach at the same time, which was incredibly frustrating to Emma. The stupid hair pull was supposed to be a cool bit of choreography, not rocket science. Yet, once again, Emma seemed to get her arms, her long hair, and her legs tangled into a mass as she twisted upward. What happened next, Emma was never entirely sure. Ruby yelled, Emma felt herself tilting sideways and she panicked, making a rookie mistake - she attempted to jump down from the stunt. Her fist was still gripped in her hair, which she almost yanked out in the fall, and she kicked her spotter away - another rookie mistake. Thankfully, Coach Ava was able to dart forward in time to catch Emma. Behind her, she heard what she swore were skulls crashing together.

It was a pretty accurate description.

Ruby was swearing loudly as she clutched her chin. A little blood seeped between her fingers. Ashley covered her mouth with both hands, and Emma was alarmed to see a lot of blood rolling down the blonde’s chin and staining her shirt. Ava abandoned Emma to check on the two bases, barking at Mary Margaret to run and get the first aid kid.

Emma felt like the worst human being in the world. She clutched at her middle and kept whispering “I’m so sorry” over and over again, but no one paid her any attention.

Ava cleaned up the blood pouring from Ashley’s mouth enough to ascertain that all of her teeth were still intact. She just had a busted lip, something many of them had endured in the past. It was crazy how badly a mouth injury bled. As for Ruby, she didn't even need a band-aid once the blood was cleaned away with an antiseptic wipe.

“Watch it carefully for infection,” Coach Ava advised.

“Why?” Ruby asked with a furrowed brow.

Ava winced slightly before reluctantly explaining. “They're bite marks. Ashley’s teeth collided with your chin.”

“WHAT??” Ruby screeched.

The rest of the squad crowded around to see as Coach Ava tilted Ruby’s chin up for a better look. Sure enough, there were two teeth-shaped puncture marks, like she’d been attacked by a wild animal. Practically growling in irritation, Ruby shoved her teammates aside and rushed to the locker room for a better look.

Ruby’s scream moments later had all of the girls collapsing with laughter.

“Well,” Ava sighed, “I suppose we’re taking a little break before we run the routine again.”

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

“So Ruby has bite marks on her chin?”

Emma snort-laughed through her nose at the look on Killian’s face. “Yep. And the rumors about how she got them get more and more unbelievable as the day goes by.”

Killian rolled his eyes before taking a bite of his sandwich. “Bloody gits”

It was too cold now to sit under the trees in the school courtyard, so she and Killian were tucked into a hidden corner in the school atrium. They had to whisper, though, because sounds reverberated against the domed ceiling. Emma couldn’t imagine cheering in this space. How did the seniors not go deaf?

“It’s not really a sexy place for bite marks though,” Emma said as she licked Cheeto powder off her fingers.

“Yeah, I can think of far kinkier places.”

She smacked him in the chest as he waggled his eyebrows at her. She wanted to be indignant at his innuendo, but instead her cheeks burned as her mind plunged straight into the gutter. She already knew a little bit of what Killian could do with his teeth . . .

“Sorry,” he apologized, shifting gears faster than she would have thought possible, “I don’t mean to be an idiot like all the rest.”

Killian blushed and scratched behind his ear. She practically melted at the way he could so swiftly go from irrepressible flirt to sweet boyfriend. She leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Emma crumpled up the Cheeto bag and stuffed it into her lunch bag. She handed the wad of trash to her boyfriend sweetly, batting her lashes exaggeratedly. Killian took her trash, chuckling as he stood up.

“You don’t have to use doe eyes to get me to do things for you,” he told her before walking to the trash can beside the front doors.

“I don’t?”

“Never,” he answered as he returned to her side. He sat back down on the floor, his back against the wall, and pulled her snug against his chest.

“So you’ll just wait on me hand and foot?”

“Like the princess you are.”

“Wow, I should really take more advantage of how whipped you are,” she joked.

Killian retaliated by tickling her in the ribs. She wriggled and laughed, but made no attempt to pull away from him. She glanced around, saw no adults, and then pressed her lips to his.

He kissed her back, sliding a hand into her hair. They kept it brief, not wanting to get caught. Storybrooke High gave demerits for PDA. Emma was tempted to just take the demerits so she could kiss her boyfriend thoroughly, but Coach Ava would pull her from the competition line up if she got one more demerit. So Emma just sighed and snuggled against Killian’s chest. He began to idly play with her hair.

“How many demerits do you get for PDA?”

Emma craned her neck to look at him. “How did you know I was thinking that?”

He grinned down at her rakishly. “I didn’t. But how many?”

Emma frowned. “It’s not bad, but it’s still too many for me. I’ve already gotten five demerits and six will get me cut from competition.”

“Scandalous. How did you get five demerits, love?”

Emma grumbled as she shoved a stray hair out of her eyes. “The first two I got because I argued with Mr. Gold about a paper he unfairly gave me a C- on. Then he wrote me up just for questioning him about it!”

“The bastard. And the other three?”

“That was me being stupid. I used the vending machine after noon.”

Killian’s laughter shook his chest, making Emma smile.

“That’s a stupid rule anyway.”

“I know, right? I forgot my lunch!” Emma tightened her arms around Killian. “Principal Mills did let me keep the chips, though.”

They were silent for a moment. Killian was still playing with her hair. She felt him take a deep breath and release it.

“Have you told the squad yet? About UK?”

Emma sighed. She figured he would ask her this eventually. “I will.”

“Emma -”

“I will.” She knew she needed to. Her friends could tell something was off, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted at any more practices.

Or any competitions.

Of course, if she screwed up this badly at a competition, The University of Kentucky might change their minds.

#cs ff #captain swan movie marathon #csmm #bring it on au #lieutenant duckling #high school au

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pixieminutes · 4 years

Text

Love Sick | HRJ

genre: fluff, non-idol!au

members: huang renjun x reader, lee donghyuck, na jaemin, lee jeno

warnings: swearing

“y/n! we’re going on a trip—”

“a roadtrip!”

“shut up, donghyuck,” renjun said with an eyeroll, “a kind of roadtrip. want to come? we can sit together in the backseat.”

“and i’ll be sat in the middle!”

“no jaemin, the fuck you won’t,” renjun swore, glaring at the younger boy, “y/n?”

you giggled, rolling your eyes at your boyfriend’s friends, “i’d love to.”

“she said yes!” renjun shouted, the boys cheering in the background.

“wait!” you laughed, “i’d love to, but i can’t.”

“what? why?” renjun asked, “if this is the stupid fucking project again, i swear to god. we have six months, y/n, six months.”

“no,” you shook your head, “i’m ill, junie. i’m currently under three layers of duvets and a blanket and i’m still shivering. i am also sweating. and a sick bucket is ready beside my bed.”

“huh?” renjun asked, suddenly serious, “are you alright? really?”

“i’m fine,” you chuckled, “go on your kind of roadtrip, okay? make sure you eat healthy things, not just mcdonalds.”

“what the fuck kind of roadtrip would that be?!” donghyuck exclaimed.

“not right now!” renjun scolded his friend before coming back to the phone, “y/n, i’m coming over.”

“no,” you frowned, “renjun, go with your friends.”

“you’re more important than my friends, bubs,” renjun sighed, “i’m coming over and you can’t stop me.”

you chuckled, “i wouldn’t even try.”

renjun smiled, “don’t strain yourself, okay? i’ll be there shortly.”

“do you think she’s on her period?” renjun asked absentmindedly as he wondered around the drugstore.

“i don’t think periods are that bad,” donghyuck scoffed, “are they?”

“you’d be surprised,” jeno shrugged, the only other boy out of the four with a girlfriend, “dahee throws up sometimes.”

“from her period?!” jaemin exclaimed.

“shh! this seems very sus!” donghyuck scolded, “four teenage boys talking very loudly about periods.”

renjun rolled his eyes, “no, you’re just uncomfortable talking about periods.”

“am not! i’m a feminist i’ll have you know,” donghyuck said.

“yeah, yeah, we get it, we are all for women’s rights—”

upon the strange, passing look of a middle aged woman, the four boys stopped, nodding and smiling nervously.

“no, i see it now,” renjun nodded, “i’ll just grab some medicine.”

“here, tea,” jeno said, “this one’s healing for headaches.”

renjun smiled appreciatively, jaemin and donghyuck both also piling cuddly toys and chocolate into the mix.

“sorry i can’t go on the roadtrip,” renjun said, pulling out his wallet and paying the cashier.

jaemin laughed, “renjun’s just the best boyfriend!”

donghyuck rolled his eyes, shoving the blonde-headed boy, “shut up, jae. it’s fine. we can all go next week, with y/n.”

“and dahee,” jeno said, smiling at the thought of his girlfriend popping into his head.

jaemin slapped his best friend’s cheek (though some would argue it was barely even a pat), “simp.”

“ya,” jeno laughed.

“well, renjun’s going to look after his sick girlfriend so who’s the real simp?” donghyuck teased, the three already leaving the shop as renjun scrambled to bag his goods.

“ya!” renjun yelled, “lee donghyuck!”

“gorgeous!” renjun shouted, “renjun who brightens the world is here!”

a soft giggle came from under your blankets, renjun’s footsteps coming closer providing you with an exciting heart flutter, one that appears every time your boyfriend comes close.

“my baby!” he cooed, rushing forward and cupping your face in his hands, “you’re so cold.”

you nodded, “i woke up sweating and then suddenly needed 10 million layers.”

renjun pouted, “did you eat something funny?”

you thought back slightly, shaking your head.

“are you on your period?”

you shook your head.

“just finished your period?”

“nope.”

“about to start your period?” renjun asked, his eyebrows raised.

you clicked your fingers, nodding, “that could be it.”

renjun chuckled, stroking your hair gently.

“i think i have a flu as well though,” you sighed, “my throat hurts like a bitch.”

“do you need anything?” renjun asked, looking around at the used tissues and empty cups and bowls on your bedside table.

you shook your head slightly, afraid that anymore would disrupt your headache, which had seemed to have calmed down for the moment.

renjun nodded, “just sleep, love. i’ll be here when you wake up.”

you tried to smile, tried to nod, but nothing wanted to happen. you just closed your eyes slowly, the corners of your lips twitching upwards as renjun pressed soft kisses to your closed eyelids.

“ah, jeez,” he sighed, looking round.

he started to collect up the used tissues, grimacing as he threw them in your bedroom bin. then, as quietly as he could, he collected up all your plates, bowls and cups; the glass on glass and china on china noises making him grimace as he tiptoed out of your bedroom.

placing them all in the kitchen, he then moved to your bathroom, running warm water to fill up the ceramic bathtub.

“there were birds in the sky, but i never heard them singing. no, i never heard them at all, till there was you,” renjun sang as he arranged his convience store goodies on a tray, placing them on the end of your bathtub, “then there was music, and wonderful roses...”

you smiled, appearing in the doorway with small steps.

“and what is this?” you asked with a slight smirk.

renjun sighed, looking you up and down. you were wearing one of his old t-shirts, he was about to throw it away when you snatched the entire ‘chuck’ pile, and kept them all to yourself. underneath, nothing but a pair of your underwear (your comfy ones, not your sexy ones) and some small white socks.

“how are you still the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen, even with the flu?”

you laughed, a smile lighting up your face, no makeup gracing your features and greasy hair tied up in a half-ponytail.

“i ran you a bath,” renjun said, still taken aback by your visuals, “and i bought you some stuff on the way here.”

“ah, that’s my favourite chocolate!” you gasped, “thank you, junnie.”

renjun smiled, kissing your nose before beginning to lift his t-shirt off your head, “you’re welcome, bubs.”

you took off all your clothes slowly before sinking into the warm liquid, spreading it all over your body as renjun sat on the closed toilet seat, watching in wonder.

“shall we watch a movie this afternoon?” he proposed.

you nodded, sniffling and coughing, both actions setting off the other.

“do you need a tissue?”

you nodded, sneezing, “please.”

“well if you look at the handy pile of things i bought for you,” renjun said proudly, picking up a packet of tissues and placing them into your hands.

you laughed, “wow, my boyfriend’s so amazing, huh?”

renjun nodded with a smile, “so amazing he’ll even wash your hair.”

your eyes widened slightly, your body filling up with love, “you will?”

nodding proudly, renjun sat beside your bathtub with his already-prepared jug to pour water through your hair. he ran his fingers through it as he went, making sure it was smooth and wet enough for your tropical-scented shampoo.

“leave the conditioner in,” you said, taking a sip of the banana milk your boyfriend had so kindly bought you, “at least for a bit.”

“yes ma’am.”

you laughed, shaking your head at renjun’s stupidity as his hands massaged your scalp gently.

you moaned, “you’re amazing. i love you, renjun.”

he just smiled and decided not to dwell on the fact it was the first time you’d said those words.

“renjun!”

“coming!” he exclaimed, coming through into the living room with a measuring spoon full of red liquid, “here, take your medicine.”

you frowned, swallowing the liquid with a pained expression.

“big baby,” renjun chuckled, walking back to the kitchen and collecting the bowls of ramen he’d prepared.

“you’re the one who wants to watch mulan!” you protested.

“mulan is a great, educational movie with a strong, feminist lead!”

“and a talking dragon.”

“mushu is a bonus,” renjun said, glaring at you.

laughing, you shook your head and pressed play on the movie.

“thank you for taking care of me,” you sighed, snuggling into his embrace.

“thank you for loving me. and for saying it out loud,” renjun smiled, kissing the top of your head, the tropical scent lingering in his nose, “but you’ll never know how much i love you too.”

you laughed, watching as you nudged his feet slightly with yours, “wanna bet, lover boy?”

#nct dream #nct #huang renjun #renjun #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct scenarios #nct fluff #huang renjun scenarios #huang renjun fluff #renjun scenarios #renjun fluff #kpop #sm #sm entertainment #renjun x reader #renjun x you #huang renjun x reader #sick!reader

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og-danny-dorito · 3 years

Text

[ 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐉𝐨𝐉𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 : 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 ]

———————————————————————

[ 𝐀/𝐍 ] straight up pulled these out of my ass at like 1-2 am but here u go anyway

———————————————————————

𝐉𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐊𝐮𝐣𝐨 :

- consistently smells like cigarettes and cheap cologne but he has the common sense not to buy axe since it reminds him of the middle schoolers in his school

- cant fucking cook to save his life because he refused to sit down and let Holly teach him. he suffers the consequences his first week in college and ends up eating dinner there for a month since he’s broke

- literally only smokes Marlboro Reds. like he’s super fucking picky about his cigarettes and it carries on for the rest of his life

- i can’t 100% tell what his sexuality is but i know he isn’t straight (it’s a gut feeling i just k n o w)

- i know everyone says he fucks but like,,, the concept of him having only dated jolyene’s mom rather than having multiple past partners and just marrying her like all the white southern people do with their “highschool sweethearts” in my area SENDS me

- i like to think that he’s bilingual since he grew up around his gramps and holly speaking it all the time so it’s kinda normal for him to stare into the distance for 2 hours straight trying to figure out the english word for “salt” during dinner with his english-speaking grandparents

𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐤𝐢 :

- BI-CON no you cannot convince me otherwise thank you very much

- probably has a male leaning preference tho cause like his vibe just screams “twink” to me for some reason

- he somehow speaks better english than jotaro (who’s grown up bilingual) and constantly likes to show it off by having conversations with his mom in front of him

- absolutely feral when playing videogames. like if you’re playing mario kart with him do NOT expect him to go easy on you since you’re a friend. in fact he might be even more competitive and a whole ass cheater by “accidentally” bumping into you while you’re trying to avoid a banana peel or some shit like that

- he likes cherries the most, but he pretty much likes any red fruit anyway. like he literally won’t eat any fruit that isn’t red, just because he doesn’t find it appealing. it’s been like this since he was a kid and his mom is still pissed off about it

- kinda insecure about his body since he’s thinner than the rest of the crusaders but polnareff makes sure to ABOLISH that shit since kakyoin is the Skinny Legend none of them could ever be. polnareff is basically his hype man when he feels unattractive no cap

- literally hates the way cigarettes smell and has complained about it enough to get Jotaro to finally put on some fucking cologne to mask it (even tho it does a shitty job) but it’ better than being suffocated by the smell of smoke all the time

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧-𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐟 :

- a pansexual icon, and likes to constantly clarify that by merely existing

- def the hype man of the group. like in the last one where i mentioned that he hypes up kakyoin when he’s feeling insecure?? yeah its not just limited to kakyoin (even though he arguably needs it the most probably)

- notices and compliments ever new piece of clothing any of them get and gives tips for their wardrobe unprompted (that being said he would literally fucking die if he saw part 6 jotaro’s snake skin print pants)

- can COOK okay like this man can make a 3 course meal blindfolded and with his hands tied behind his back and it still comes out looking straight outta master chef. he can also grill, but not as well as joseph can obviously

- LOVES chubby girls like,,, its not a fetish thing he just LOVES chubby girls with all of his heart

- beats the shit out of anyone who makes a r*pe/misogynistic joke in his presence with absolutely no exceptions

𝐌𝐮𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐀𝐯𝐝𝐨𝐥 :

- s o m f t,,, s o m f t h u g s. like he’s just the warmest dude, and he smells so nice and has such a nice voice that reverberates in his chest- like if he sings you to sleep while you lay in his arms you might as well die right then and there because you’ve reached heaven

- probably smells like sage and chai tea with a hint of cinnamon in there. it’s v calming tbh like he basically feels like what you think home would be if it were a person

- gorgeous, but very VERY uncontrollable hair. like it’s v curly and thick and stuff and so he ties it in bantu knots so it doesn't bother him. he’ll let it loose sometimes just so he doesn't end up having breakage or anything like that, but if he’s actually trying to be productive he has to tie it up somehow

- i personally believe in puffy ponytail avdol supremacy thank you very much

- names all of the chickens. yes, all of them. and he remembers every single one of their names too

- theres a v v common headcanon that he’s Muslim and honestly? i don’t know much about Islam but i still think it’s cool regardless

𝐉𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 :

- ya’ll thought he’s matured since he’s older now? lmao NO- he still does dumb shit all the time and i honestly doubt that it’s ever going to change. he’s a himbo for life ya’ll

- really likes film noir movies!! like the old shit is probably always going to be his go-to, but he also likes modern noir stuff too just because it’s so cool to him. highkey quotes lines from the movies when investigating something too and gets so excited when someone recognizes it

- i hate to fucking say it but i KNOW this man says “gracias” at Mexican restaurants to a) embarrass the fuck out of jotaro and b) because it’s canon that he has quote on quote “frequent failures at blending with the local culture and his struggle at battling Stands are a constant source of humor” (see the Joseph Joestar Wiki Page) and i plan to use that to the fullest of it’s capacity even if its a stretch

- highkey knows he’s a gilf but like refuses to let out the information that he has knowledge of modern lingo. he’d much rather use it incorrectly to make The Youth uncomfortable

- can actually use technology really well?? like you’d expect him to be a boomer about it but he’s knowledgeable to be able to help younger people with their phone problems (mostly courtesy of Hermit Purple)

- would die for some soul food at any given moment thank you very much 😌

[ ~𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!~ ]

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a-square-minus-one · 3 years

Text

Honey

Just starting a series of one shots about Gar and Raven falling in love slowly.

“Good morning lovely teammates,” Garfield says, arms raised high in the air as the common room doors open up. He looks amusedly at his friends. Nightwing had stopped in the middle of pouring his coffee, his sleepy, swollen eyes blinking tiredly at him. Cyborg had paused mid chew. Starfire had been in the middle of releasing her hair from her ponytail. They look like a funny little tableau. Changeling chuckles.

“Sunrise. I thought I’d have to project you into the ocean to wake you up,” Raven says. But she doesn’t look shocked. In fact her eyes are closed and she remains in a semi-meditative state.

“You know today is always a fun day for all of us,” Changeling says, taking his frozen bananas and pineapples out of the freezer. “Rae, do you want me to make you an acai bowl too?”

“Please” she says, now dropping her feet delicately on the ground. Garfield had already begun making two servings before she responded.

“Coming right up,” he says, humming “La Vie en Rose” to himself. “Are we all packed up for today?” he asks, dumping the purple puree into two bowls.

“The T-Car is stacked with water balloons, books, goodies, gifts, board games. It’s gonna be a good one this year,” Cyborg says, clapping his hands together. Star exclaims something in Tameranean before swirling in the air and gripping Nightwing in a tight hug. He moves his mug out of the way just in time and smiles into her shoulder. Changeling feels a similar exuberance bubbling in his chest. Similar to the feeling he gets when he’s running in animal form.

It was the beginning of their annual field days. Titans from all over the country came together and visited beaches and parks all over the country for a week to partake in summertime activities with foster kids all over the country. This year, festivities started in Jump City. Seeing as most Titans were orphaned or had strained relationships with their own parents, this week always meant a lot to everyone involved in it.

“Bumblebee says they already landed. Says the beach is packed. Are y’all ready to go?” Cyborg says, looking up from the arm he was reading the message from. Starfire is already dragging Nightwing to the car; Changeling hot on their heels. Cyborg sends an amused smile to Raven who is in the middle of placing her empty bowl into the sink. Cyborg cocks his head as Raven bites her lip, lost in thought.

“You okay Raven?” Cyborg says. Raven shakes her head, dropping the bowl clumsily into the sink. She looks at Cyborg and nods; he looks to her scrunched up eyebrows. She follows his eyesight and rubs her hands over her brows like she’s smoothing out the crinkles in a paper.

“Yeah, you know me and big crowds. Just a little...loud.” Raven says. Cyborg nods, understanding.

“You can leave whenever you want.” Cyborg says.

“Yeah. I meditated a little more than usual,” Raven says and starts walking towards the T Car. Cyborg senses that something remains unsaid as he follows after her.

.....................................................................................................................

It’s almost 3 pm when Garfield transforms from a tiger back into his human self and jogs to the snack table. He is having the time of his life.

The Titans are good with kids. There is absolutely no denying it. Starfire is radiant and bubbly. She was excited to make as many light spectacles as the children asked her to. Cyborg is great at football. Aqualad is great at sensing multiple children in the water at once. Nightwing is a skilled gymnast and never ran out of energy. Kids loved rocks and Terra could always find the coolest shaped ones to give out. Garfield likes to think the kids loved him as well. He is a walking petting zoo and ever since he started his acting career, the teenagers like hanging out with him too. And Raven...hmm, he hadn’t seen Raven in a while. Changeling looks around, sipping lazily from the almost empty water bottle he has just picked up. And then he spots her.

In typical Raven fashion, she is away from the crowds. She is heading towards a small girl with two cute afro puffs with pink ribbons. The girl’s face is contorted into a pained expression and both her hands are pressed tightly to her ears. She looks maybe four, definitely not older than six.

“That’s Jordan. She’s new to our group home,” says someone approaching Garfield on his left. Garfield looks at the teenage girl with orange pigtails and a shy smile on her face.

“Hi,” the girl says, blushing profusely as if she said something embarrassing. “I-” she clears her throat. “I’m Becca. A volunteer.”

“Hello Becca,” Garfield says cheerfully, a little amused. “You said the girl’s new?” “Yeah, Jordan came in a couple weeks ago.” “How old is she?”

“Five.”

“And she’s-” Garfield hesitates. He doesn’t want to assume.

“Autistic?” Becca finishes for him. Changeling nods. “Yes, she’s the most loving little girl. She actually loves the Titans. She just hates changes in her routine a little more,” says Becca. As if on cue, Garfield hears a pained screech from the corner of the beach. He cringes and puts down his water bottle. He begins to transition into a hummingbird.

“Wait!” Becca says. Changeling turns to the teen girl.

“Yeah?” he asks. Her blush becomes so severe that it almost obscures all the freckles on her cheeks.

“Could I-” Garfield swears she squeals. “Could I get an autograph sir?....Please?” she asks looking down at her flip flops. Garfield smiles so widely his cheeks hurt.

“Of course,” he says, taking the young girl’s clipboard from her.

“I...um...loved you in that new comedy with Seth Rogan. Me and my mom watched it like thirty times,” she says, still not looking up from her shoes.

“Thank you,” Garfield says, hoping that the deep gratitude he feels in his heart is seeping into his words. “You are doing amazing work here Becca.” Becca peaks up at Garfield through her lashes, at this point, her face looks painfully red. He chuckles and writes ‘Cute pigtails. Love, Gar.’

“You said her name was Jordan?” Garfield asks. Becca nods.

“Thank you Becca,” Garfield sings, handing her her clipboard, quickly transforming and flying towards the crying young girl.

Garfield lands on a boulder near Raven and Jordan. He doesn’t want to startle them. He doesn’t make a move, just listens intently for the right time to interject. At this point, Raven has already knelt in front of the young girl who is looking up at Raven with big wet eyes.

“Hi,” Raven says. People have described Raven’s voice in many ways. Monotone. Raspy. Sleepy. But he’s never heard anyone call it gentle. Right now, it’s as soft as the inside of a rose.

“I’m Raven.” Jordan is swaying from foot to foot, tears streaming steadily down her face. “Someone told me your name is Jordan.” Jordan whimpers softly in response, boogers starting to flow from her nose.

“Is it okay if I move your arms?” Raven asks. She is about to move Jordan’s hands from her ears when the girl lets out a heart shattering sob. Raven quickly drops her hands.

“I’m sorry,” Raven says, and Jordan settles down a little. Raven moves a little closer. If it wasn’t for Garfield’s enhanced hearing he wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation.

“You don’t like big crowds do you?” Raven asks softly. “That’s okay, me neither. They can get really loud,” Raven says, placing her own hands over her ears. Raven’s made it clear to the team that she’s an empath but it isn’t really a power people can see. Right now though, Garfield can only see two people who are attempting to see each other on another level. Jordan looks at Raven intently. Tears are still streaming down her face but her full body sobs have quieted down to small intermittent whimpers.

“Your friend Maria-” Raven gestures towards the volunteer about ten feet away. Beast Boy hadn’t even recognized her. “Tells me that you like the ocean. Maybe you and I can float on the ocean together?” Raven asks, getting up and wiping sand off her knees. Raven’s eyes start to glow and suddenly her dark energy forms a solid, raft-like structure. Jordan takes a few fearful steps back.

“It’s okay Jordan, this is safe. We’ll be safe,” Raven says in a very low voice, demonstrating Jordan’s safety by walking onto the raft herself. Jordan looks on in wonder but remains glued to her spot. Garfield figures this is the perfect time to intervene. He transforms himself into a shih tzu and walks slowly over to Jordan.

“Look Jordan, a dog. Maria says you love dogs too,” Raven says. Garfield didn’t even think Raven recognized he was there the whole time. When Jordan sees the small dog, her hands fall away for her ears. Changeling walks closely to Jordan and nudges at her small palm with his nose. She looks down at Garfield and hums, a small smile breaking onto her face. Garfield feels his body thrum with pride as he snuggles into the young girls legs. She brings two fists up to her now wide smile and squeals loudly. Garfield begins to jump around excitedly, then skillfully leads Jordan onto the dark energy raft that Raven has crafted for them. Jordan squeals again when Raven lifts them off the sandy ground and levitates them over the waves.

“Eeeee!” Jordan says, swaying from foot to foot as a wave splashes up over Raven’s raft and wets Jordan’s tiny little feet. Garfield runs circles around her. Stopping only so Jordan can rub behind his ears and squeeze him towards her chest.

And they continue like that for hours, until the sun starts to sink. Changeling wonders more than once, how long Raven can keep this projection going without exhausting herself. Still, it never wavers. In fact Raven occasionally jolts the raft back and forth because Jordan lets out an excited squeal whenever the waves hit her feet. It isn’t until Jordan starts falling asleep, her head falling onto Changeling’s dog form’s back that Raven starts to bring them back to shore. By then, the beach had settled down a little. Many children and volunteers had started heading back home. Changeling turns back into his human form and snuggles the sweet girl to his chest much like she had done before. In an embrace that radiated nothing but affection. Raven let her energy dissolve beneath them.

Maria was waiting at the shore to pick Jordan up. Garfield tried his hardest to move Jordan into Maria’s embrace without waking her up but Jordan shifts in Maria’s arms and wiggles out of her arms. She does a little trott to Raven and squeezes her legs tightly. Raven’s eyes widen, and she places a hand in the space where Jordan’s hair is parted. Changeling swears he sees Raven’s eyes glaze over with tears.

Raven kneels down in front of the girl and places two hands on her shoulders.

“I’ll come see you soon.” Raven promises. Maria scoops the tired girl up in her arms.

“She’s usually never that affectionate with anyone she just meets,” Maria says, smiling warmly at Raven. She places a grateful hand on Raven’s shoulder and walks away.

Garfield feels something catch in his throat as he looks at Raven looking at the departing girl. She’s been curling her hair lately. The curve of her ear poking out from her purple waves of hair is something he never thought he could be transfixed by. Her eyes, still a little wet with happy tears, look even more purple than usual and Garfield is reminded of the posters Rita used to have of portraits of a soft lit Elizabeth Taylor. Raven looks so...soft. Gar swallows past something thick in his throat.

“You were...really gentle with her,” Garfield says, feeling like he needs to fill the silence with something. Raven looks towards Jordan a little while longer before turning to Garfield to respond. He feels a little like he was punched in the chest when the full weight of her gaze lands on him. It’s like a spotlight. He can’t see anything around it.

“You were too.” Raven says. Garfield gets a sudden flashback of Raven reading with Teether, Melvin and Timmy.

“You are really good with kids,” Garfield says. He’s talking low because he feels like a louder voice would shatter this delicate moment. Raven shrugs.

“All the Titans are,” Raven says and Garfield feels himself shake his head without even thinking about it. The Titans were all good with kids. That was true. When the kids were happy, receptive and energetic. The Titans were great with them. But when they had shut down? Were scared? Tired?

“But you’re...you’re-” Garfield tries to find the words to describe how Raven was answering every single one of the subtle cues Jordan was giving her. Even the slightest twitch of her lip. It’s like she had answers lined up before Jordan even knew what she wanted. Raven was like that with a lot of people. The word empathetic was jumping around his head but it felt too light on his tongue to truly capture what Raven was to the people around her. She was a salve. Healing. Their missing pieces.

Raven looked at Garfield expectantly.

“Hey baby,” a voice came from beside them. Changeling felt his arm lift and a figure settle under his shoulder. He saw the blonde hair twinkling in his peripheral vision. He felt sticky lips leave their residue on the corner of his lips. Raven looked expectant for only a few seconds more before she greeted Terra.

“Nice to see you Terra. I’m sure you guys have a lot of catching up to do,” Raven said before moving away from the couple to help Cyborg clean.

#bbrae #garchel #beast boy x raven

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survey--s · 2 years

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76.

survey by ccandacelove

Do you have sensitive skin? Yeah, I get rashes quite easily and I bruise really easily as well. I have to be really fussy when it comes to buying lotions and washing powder etc.

Do you wear necklaces or earrings more? Earrings. I never wear necklaces as with my job they’d just get caught and tangled up in various things.

Rings or bracelets? Rings. I never wear bracelets for the same reason as I never wear necklaces.

Are you attracted to several guys at the moment? Nope, just the one.

Are you jealous of your best friend? No, not at all.

What year is it? It’s 2022.

Are you egotistical? No.

Spring or autumn? I love both but for different reasons. Overall I probably prefer Spring because of the weather but I love the colours and feel of Autumn.

Pasta or tacos? I’m not really a massive fan of either, but overall I probably prefer pasta.

Water or soda? Soda.

Irish accent or Aussie accent? I love both, but overall probably Australian.

Do you consider yourself to be a bit gangster? Hahaha, no.

How many toilets are in your house? Just the one.

Do you have an older sister? I don’t have any siblings.

Favorite song by Owl City? Fireflies and Hello Seattle.

What color is your mum’s car? My parents share a white car.

Do you live in an apartment? No, we live in a house.

Is your attitude contagious? No.

Cats are usually cuter than dogs right? I think dogs are cuter. Don’t get me wrong, I love cats and have three of them, but dogs definitely have more of an appeal to me - I guess because they’re more interactive and sociable.

Do you have a wallet? No.

When is the last time you went to church? I don’t go to church - the last time I was in one was probably back in school.

Where were you yesterday at 3pm? At home doing what I’m doing now, pretty much, except I was watching Hoarders not Two and a Half Men.

Is your favorite color green? No, but I do love certain shades of green.

Do you own purple socks? I do, actually, just the one pair.

Do you truly understand the (LDS) mormon religion? No, but it’s not very common here at all.

Do you think it’s bullshit? I think all religion is bullshit, lol.

Where do you keep your kitty litter box? They’re in various places in the living room - it’s not ideal but we have a small house and multiple cats so they’re just their for practical reasons.

Are you part Scandinavian? No.

Did your aunt ever take you to the park back in the day? They did when we went to visit them in Australia, yeah. I have lots of photos of me feeding kangaroos and stuff at parks there.

Is your hair in a ponytail atm? No, it’s in a messy bun as per usual.

Are you rude to little children? Well, no, because that’s just a shitty way to behave.

Do you like Ethiopian food? I’ve never tried it before.

Is your current crush younger than you? No, my husband is five years older than me.

Are you a lighter complexion than your father? Hmm, yes. He’s pale too but he definitely tans quicker than I do.

Do you like apricots? I do, but I never think to actually buy them lol.

Do you go to the beach every summer? I go to the beach everyday lol, I live about five minutes away. But I never really go just to be a tourist and sunbathe or whatever.

Ranch or barbeque sunflower seeds? Ranch sounds better. I’m not a huge fan of BBQ flavoured foods.

Do you know the first 5 books of the bible in order? No.

Are you eager to attend anything tomorrow? Nope. I have work which is fine, but I wouldn’t say I was particularly eager or excited to be going, lol.

Have you ever bullshitted a whole test or exam? God, most definitely.

Are banana chips delicious? They are! I can’t tolerate fresh bananas as the texture makes me sick but I love banana chips.

Do you have a pet fish? I’ve never had a pet fish, actually.

Are you happy with your eye color? Sure, it’s fine lol.

Do you have more energy at night or mornings? In the mornings - I’m definitely not an evening person lol.

Can you meow like a kitten? Most kittens don’t meow lol, ours tend to shout or make *Nyan* type noises.

Is your mum beautiful? I mean, I don’t really look at my family like that.

Shrimp tacos or beef? I’ve never had shrimp tacos before.

Soft shell or hard shell? I prefer soft shell tacos.

Do you live on the East coast? I live on the west coast of the UK.

What country were you born in? England.

Solid soap bar or liquid body wash? Liquid soap. I don’t like soap bars (texture issues) but body wash doesn’t seem to clean me properly and I end up with BO lol.

Do you believe being gay is a choice or a “disorder”? Neither, it’s something you’re born as.

Crest or Colgate? We don’t have Crest here.

#survey #surveys #questions

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playitbackreplay-moved · 3 years

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NEW PATH !

SUMMARY :: In which Jiwon fights for his team. CHARACTERS :: Noh Jiwon , Jeon Sunwoo , Jang Jinhwan , Han Donghan , Nico Matsui WORDS :: 2.0K WARNINGS :: fighting ( but like not really , just to be safe really ) ( if i missed anything let me know ! )

Jiwon took a deep breath, rubbing his now sweaty palms onto his pants as he looked back at the door in front of him. He knew this was coming, ever since their last day of promotions, when they walked away empty handed yet again. He knew their time was coming and that Banana Culture just had to pull the trigger and actually disband them.

Jiwon had shoved himself into his work in the days following the end of their promotions. First, he had tried to make new songs, hoping that if the company heard some promising tracks, they would think again about letting them go, but it felt like every track he made just felt more wrong each time he tried. Once he gave up on making music, he looked more into other companies around them, hoping that he could find something, anything that would let him stay together with the group of people he had grown so fond of. He scrolled and scrolled, debating with himself on emailing some places when Sunwoo burst through one of the practice room doors, telling him that enough was enough and pulling him all the way back to their dorm. Sunwoo had thrown Jiwon’s tired body onto his bed, sitting on top of him until he had slipped into one of the best sleeps he had in a while.

It was all nice until he woke up to a message from their manager, telling him that the CEO wanted to see him, his heart sinking instantly in his chest at the conversation he knew was going to come. He had slipped out of bed that morning, careful not to disturb anyone in the dorm in the early hours of the morning. It was almost peaceful walking around the dorm with nobody milling about and he couldn’t help but hope that the rest of the boys would sleep peacefully, without any of the stress Jiwon was currently facing.

That brought Jiwon to standing in front of their CEO’s door, wondering how he could wiggle their way out of disbandment, how he could keep this group going as long as he wanted. He let out one last sigh, knocking on the door with a firm knock that surprised him. He waited until he heard a small, deep voice on the other side telling him to come in, before he made his way into the room, instantly sitting down in front of the man.

The older man let out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. “I’m sure you already know why you’re here,” he sighed, looking Jiwon straight in the eye. “We’re disbanding Replay and we’re going to have a formal meeting with everyone later, but I wanted to give you the rundown on how this would work before we move forward.”

There was a pause as the man waited for Jiwon to nod or show any sort of approval. It was dead silent in the room, but Jiwon had never felt like it was so loud before. He started at his hands for a moment, biting his lip to keep him from saying something, no matter how much he wanted to. The man in front of him sighed lightly, about to continue, but Jiwon couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Sir,” Jiwon’s voice broke out into the silence, much louder and stronger than he thought it would come out, considering how scared he was inside. He watched as his CEO’s eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, but Jiwon continued before he could stop him. “With all due respect, I think it would be a mistake to disband our group.”

“Jiwon, you’re group hasn’t been gaining much attention,” the man started, looking frustrated. “We sent you guys onto Road to Kingdom, hoping it would gain you guys attention, but you didn’t win, so nothing happened. We can’t keep wasting money on a project that isn’t giving us anything in return.”

“But we’re getting bigger each comeback!” Jiwon protested, looking into the older man’s eyes as he raised his voice lightly. “I’ve seen the album sales and we’ve been nominated for number one multiple times! If you would just give us a few more comebacks I’m sure we could get bigger!”

“The answer’s no, Jiwon, and that’s final.” The patronizing tone of the man’s voice only served to frustrate Jiwon even more.

“If you won’t let us continue, then let us find someone else that will,” Jiwon’s voice was deep as he glared at the man in front of him.

The man barked out an ugly laugh, throwing his head back as if it was the funniest thing in the world. “And who would want to take in a group like you? No wins, bad sales, barely any production credits? You guys have nothing going for yourself as far as I’m concerned.”

“One month,” Jiwon said, closing his eyes and breathing through his nose to calm him down. “Give us one month to look for a new place, if we don’t get it by then, then you can disband the group.”

The man smirked, leaning forward. “Fine, one month and when you don’t find anyone to take in your group, you guys will disband without any more of a fuss, got it?”

“Yes,” Jiwon said, getting up from his seat and leaving the room, without another glance back at his CEO.

“We’re doing what now?” Donghan’s voice filled the small dorm, his eyes wide with confusion and his mouth hung open. The other boys stared back in similar states of shock, though Donghan had always been the more vocal of the younger members of the group.

“We’re going to find another company to take us in,” Jiwon shrugged simply, looking over to Sunwoo to see if he was as confused about the situation as the rest of them. He didn’t seem to be, but Jiwon noticed the small, scared look on his face, unsure of what to make of the situation.

“And how exactly are we going to do that?” Jinhwan said, his voice much more quiet than normal. He had his legs pulled up to his chest and his long black hair was messily thrown into a ponytail, or as much of one as he could get. He was clearly worried, and Jiwon wanted to do nothing more than to console the younger one.

“We email companies and just hope that they take a look at us?” Sunwoo suggested, causing all eyes to turn to him. “Look, I know it’s not ideal, but I’d rather do anything than actually disband.”

All the other boys nodded, looking more solem than when they started this conversation. “How do we know that the companies will even look at anything we send?” Nico’s soft voice broke the small silence, asking the one question that they were all wondering.

“We don’t” Jiwon shrugged, running a hand through his hair. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought, but Jiwon was determined to make it through and keep this group together.

“I can talk to some of my friends from when I trained at SM and see if they know anything,” Jinhwan suggested. “Worse come to worse, we could always look at Jinhee’s company.”

“That would be great, Jinhwan,” Jiwon said, his voice tired as he rested his hands on the back of his neck, the worry finally starting to catch up with him.

“Why don’t we take a break, it’s been a long day,” Sunwoo interjected, seeing how Jiwon was close to losing it, knowing when he needed to stop Jiwon from going too far. “We can pick this back up later.”

The boys nodded, getting up from their position on the floor and making their way into their rooms, leaving the oldest two alone.

“I’m worried,” Jiwon said after a moment, not looking at the younger man next to him. “What if we don’t get anywhere to pick us up?”

“Then we’ll disband anyway, you’re at least giving us another shot we wouldn’t have had.”

Jiwon had to admit that Sunwoo was right, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be his fault if nobody picked them up. The thought kept playing over and over in him mind and he couldn’t help but worry.

“Whatever happens, you know it’s not like we won’t see each other again, right?”

“Will we, though?” Jiwon questioned, turning to finally look at Sunwoo. “Yeah, you and me will still see each other, and we can probably see Jinhwan and Donghan too, but Nico will probably move back home, what’s keeping him here other than being an idol? He can go back to his youtube channel and we would barely ever see him again. I just don’t want to lose any of them.”

“I know,” Sunwoo nodded, his face falling slightly at Jiwon’s words. “But, we’ll make it work, okay?”

Jiwon just nodded, not trusting himself to actually talk with the lump that was beginning to form in his throat. He just wanted everything to turn out okay.

It was two weeks before they heard back from anyone that they had sent anything out to, and all the boys could feel their heart start racing with excitement before Jiwon opened the email. They could also feel their hearts drop at the sight of the rejection.

That one was only the first, but many more rejections kept flooding in after the first one, making the boys less and less hopeful as the days went on. Slowly, every company they had reached out to came back with the same answer. No.

There was only one company left and all the boys knew it was a long shot. P Nation. It had started out as a joke between the boys about how Psy was constantly picking up stray singers and that maybe, just maybe, he would actually look into them just a bit. Then, Jinhwan mentioned how he used to train with one of the promising trainees back under SM and how he could probably give him a call and see what could happen, if he could plant any seeds in any higher ups mind.

They all knew it would probably be a no, but seeing the email rolling in had all the boys at the edge of their seats, waiting for Jiwon to open it and read out the email. Jiwon looked around at the boys one last time before he took a deep breath and opened the email. He scanned it quickly, not wanting to read it to the boys if it was bad news, but he couldn’t help teh way that his eyes lit up at the words.

“We got in?” Nico asked, noticing the way their leader’s eyes lit up, his smile bright and hopeful.

Jiwon smiled. “They want to meet us!” His voice was bright and happy and he could see the way all the other boys lit up at the words.

Screams filled the small dorm as all the boys jumped up, hugging each other tightly as if they had just won the lottery and in a way they had. Jiwon couldn’t stop the smile from spreading into a big, full-blown, teethy smile. They could say no still, but Jiwon couldn’t find it in him to care about that right now. Right now they had hope, they were safe for another moment and they might have a new label to take them in. It wasn’t perfect, but for Jiwon it felt as close to perfect as it could get in that moment, and Jiwon was prepared to savor every moment of it.

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starkatana · 4 years

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The Meet Cute

Jason Todd x Female Reader

Summary: Jason meets you for the first time and is smitten by you. It’s your first day of school at Gotham Academy and when Jason sees you at school for the first time everything that can go wrong in front of your crush does.

Author’s note: So, here begins my various one-shots of Jason Todd/Red Hood x Reader//y/n AKA my current obsession. I may compile all of them into chronological order once everything is done. I just really wanted to write and post something. I just have too many WIP’s right now that I need to focus on.

Before Reading: You and Jason meet as seniors in high school.

They aren’t exact ages. This is just a world that I made using these characters because I can. Meaning Jason hasn’t died yet, in this AU (not that it matters for this story – he won’t die and become Red Hood until age 22/23)

Selina is your godmother. You are the child of Selina’s childhood friends. There is no family relationship between you and Jason even though you will be living in Wayne Manor and occasionally call Selina, Auntie.

Sorry if its a little out of character, this is just based on my knowledge that tumblr has given me.

“Are we allowed to be here?” Dick asked as he pulled up the car to the music venue.

“Yeah!” Jason said giddily with excitement. “The venue said, shows are open to those 18+ and I just turned 18!”

“I guess. I feel like we fought crime here before.” Dick looked around the area.

“Where haven’t we fought crime in Gotham.” Jason shrugged, “Let’s go!”

Jason and Dick wait in line for the rock show. The venue marks Jason’s hands with a big stamp that showed he was underage to drink and without Dick, he ran into the venue. Letting the sound of the music envelope him, he moved his way through the crowd when he got caught in a mosh pit and someone much bigger than him grabbed him in and threw him down.

“C‘mon dude!” You effortlessly help Jason up off the floor.

Jason, even though he was 18 and still in high school, he was not a small dude he was Robin at night, and during the day between homework and theatre, he was fighting with the Titans. He was not small. Compared to you, he was a giant, even though, when he stood up he was only a head taller than you. The way you swooped in from the mosh pit to help him up, took his breath away.

“You okay?” you yell over the sound of the music.

Your y/h/c was in a high ponytail and you had the perfect cat-eye eyeliner wing. You looked breathtaking. Sweaty and beautiful you were wearing a black t-shirt that was tied in the front, with ripped black skinny jeans, a red flannel, and black converse high tops. He never loved the color red so much than this moment.

“Hey!” you snap him back to reality as he nods still speechless looking into your y/e/c eyes with the lights and moving in the background.

“Good!” you give him a half-smile, followed by a wink, before going back into the mosh pit.

“There you are!” Dick grabbed Jason’s arm and pulled himself towards Jason “I thought I lost you back there.”

Jason doesn’t move and doesn’t pay attention to Dick as he’s watching your petite form in the crowd. How well you handle yourself as you throw down with the other people in the mosh pit.

“Dick, I think I’m in love.”

“What?” Dick yells over the music “I! Can’t! Hear!”

Jason grabs this brother’s shirt collar and points him over to you “Girl. High pony! Headbanging!” Jason couldn’t take his eyes off you as you headbang to the music. “I. Love. Her.”

Dick looks back and forth between her and him.

“WHAT?!”

He wanted to hang out with you all night, there was one time during the show where you were crowd surfing and you got on stage with the band and jammed out with them. He ran into you often that night and you two shared some laughs and some dance sessions. It was a night he would remember.

Then his alarm went off. It was the next morning and Jason couldn’t get you out of his head. He got up and got ready for the first day of his senior year. In the kitchen he made himself a bowl of cereal but walking to put the milk back he almost trips on the cat, spilling the milk.

“Do be careful Master Todd.”

“It was the cat!”

Alfred gave him a nod and continued cooking breakfast when Jason sat at the island and when he put his hand down the spoon went flying out of the bowl. “Ah! I’ll clean it.”

“Seems like today just isn’t your day.”

“I’m not superstitious and black cats aren’t bad luck.” Jason shrugged.

“You might not be superstitious but it might just be some bad luck.” and Alfred slid him a salt shaker and pointed over his left shoulder, “don’t forget the family dinner tonight. Now, please excuse me, I have to go wake up Master Drake so you two aren’t late to your first day.”

“Yeah.” Jason sighs and takes the salt and throws some over his left shoulder. Not for him, but for Alfred.

At school, you’re walking through the halls with your coffee, class schedule, and other paperwork in your arms. You’re on your phone when Jason is walking towards you and does a double-take unsure if you were the girl from last night. He jogs over to you and doing so he slips on a banana peel like in the cartoons and crashes into you. Causing you to spill coffee all over yourself.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Jason says quickly getting up and offering a hand to help you up. You take his hand and when he saw your face, he couldn’t believe his eyes. You were the girl from the show last night.

“I’m good it was just iced.” You wipe off your uniform best you can, but your white blouse was now stained. You looked up at Jason who was quietly staring at you. A cat had run away with his tongue.

“Excuse me.” You use your jacket to cover up your chest, begining to walk away.

“No!”

You stop and furrow your brows at him.

“Fuck, I mean, I’m sorry about your uniform.”

You still have your chest covered. “It’s whatever.”

“I’ll buy you a replacement coffee later.”

“It’s fine.” Then the warning bell for class rang. “I have to go.” You walk past him and throw away the cup and continue with your day. Jason watched you walk away and slapped himself in the forehead. How did he fuck something up as easy as that?!

Ironically enough, for the rest of the day, you keep running into each other. Literally. After the first incident and before lunch he waves to you. As he walks over to you he trips and falls into you. Knocking all your stuff out of your arms.

“Hi.” Jason sheepishly greets from on top of you.

“Hi.” You shove him off of you and start picking up your things.

“I’m so sorry, I’m usually not this clumsy.” He responds helping you pick things up.

“I’m sure.” You respond with a slightly annoyed tone.

“I’m going to make this all up to you.”

“It’s fine.” You go to reach for your pencil and he does the same and you two bang heads.

“Shit.”

“Fuck.”

You two swore, grabbing your foreheads. You quickly snatch your pencil and get as far away from him as possible.

“I’m sorry!”

At lunch, he sees you at a table outside, and a little bit over behind you he sees a coffee cart. A lightbulb goes off in his head and he buys you a coffee and one for himself. He’s minding his own business and at the same time keeping an eye on you to make sure you haven’t disappeared. Once he gets the coffee, he begins walking over to you. He’s rehearsing what he’s going to say to you once he gets to your table.

Hey, I’m Jason. Sorry about today. No. Hey, were you at the Favorite Places show last night?

But getting caught up in his thoughts he trips over his own feet and spills the iced coffees all over you from behind.

You jump at the sudden burst of cold liquid all over you. “Oh my god!” You get up and turn around you see the same boy from earlier.

“Are you fucking SORRY?!”

Your jaw drops even further than it had already. Jason’s face goes super red. You shake your head and start gathering up your things.

“That’s not,” he gets up from the ground, “What I wanted to say.” He squeaked.

You roll your eyes and continue to ignore him. With your stuff barely packed away, you grab your jacket uniform, the only dry clothing item you now have on you, and walk away from him.

“Fuck.” Jason grabbed his head. Today was going great.

On your way to the last period of the day, you two make eye contact across the courtyard. There was something about you that took Jason off guard. When you saw him, you turned around going back inside the building to avoid walking near him. He was devastated.

Later that evening in Wayne Manor:

“Hey Little Wing,“ Dick walked into Jason’s room “ooooo....” he leaned against the door frame. The room is dark and Jason is slumped over his bed, “is this a bad time?”

“Pretty sure the girl from last night was at school today and everything went WRONG.”

“Ouch.” Dick flicked on the light, “What happened?”

“What didn’t happen?!” Jason sat up in bed. “I spilled coffee on her twice, but not just two cups of coffee. Three. She was drenched in ice coffee by lunch.”

“Oh, that sounds like a bad day for her and you.”

“Young masters, please report to the main dining hall, dinner is ready,” Alfred announced over the intercoms.

“You can talk more along the way.”

Jason explained everything that happened at school today to Dick and when they got into the dining room Bruce and Selina were there along with Tim and Damien and the last person that Jason laid his eyes on was you.

Jason’s jaw dropped.

Your eyes narrowed.

“Jason! Dick! Take a seat this is my goddaughter, y/n.” Selina introduced, “She’ll be staying with us and going to Gotham Academy with you and Tim.”

“Hi, I’m Dick.” he reached out his hand and shook hands with you, “Pleasure meeting you.”

You shakes his hand and gives him a smile in return and Dick takes a seat one away from you, leaving the only space at the table next to you for Jason.

You then turn your attention to Jason. “And you must be Jason.”

Hi.” Jason said sheepishly avoiding eye contact and quickly taking a seat at the table next to you.

“Wow, this is a first.” Selina said, “I have never seen Jason so quiet.”

Jason grows furiously red.

This was the worse karma.

---

My boyfriend said I need to stop sitting on all my stories and that I need to share them with the world. I’m embarrassed and I don’t like people knowing what I’m into.So, better share with all the strangers on the internet!

Hope you enjoyed it! I’ll be back soon!

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