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alpines-bucky · 3 years

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No one said Starks weren't a little dramatic

This is the first time I write Tony x daughter reader I hope you guys like it :)

Word Count: 2319 ( Things got a bit out of my hands while I was editing and eventhough it's edited I can't promise that there aren't any typos and I dtill wasn't satisfied with what I wrote but 🤷‍♀️Ig )

Warnings: Major character death, a lot of angst

Y/N loses her dad when he decides to save the universe with a snap of his fingers but when did anyone see a Stark not getting what they want? Let me answer for you, Never. ( AKA Y/N gambles with time and space and universes surprisingly there isn't any VA involved cause in my opinion they suck to save her dad but apparently there are always consequences)

Y/N had arrived at her destination albeit being a little late. She wanted to be there when the team tried to go back in time to get the Stones in hopes of saving aunt Tasha too but she had one and only shot at this so she had to make do with what she had. What she didn’t realise was she accidentally changed universes instead of going back in time.

The way she found out that the place she had arrived wasn’t when or where she intented to was Morgan, the little girl with big Brown eyes who had total control over her older sister the second they met. Y/N had to lay low and do her research before approaching them. But when she heard about Morgan she had to meet her before doing what she came to do. And that’s exactly what she did.

She found Morgan in a house by the lake with a woman who she assumed was Pepper.Her visit was short since she couldn’t afford getting caught by Pepper which would mean jeopardising the whole plan she had spent months making. She left a message for her dad before going off to save the man itself.

Her dad was fighting with Thanos when she arrived to the scene. The more she looked around the more it looked like the place she fought along with her dad and that meant one thing, she had to act quick.

‘’I am inevitable’’ Thanos said as he snapped his finger but nothing happened. Confused, he looked at his gauntlet to find that the Stones that were there a minute ago were no longer in their places. He looked around to see that Tony had them somehow.

‘’And I’m Iron Man’’ said Tony full of emotions as he was about to snap his fingers. He thought having all six Stones in his hands would kill him being a mortal and he was fine with it if that meant she could ensure his family’s security but he felt nothing. He thought he had died instantly but he found out that wasn’t the case when he got startled by an unknown voice.

‘’Oh, the hell with that!’’ said a girl who wore a similar suit to Tony’s. She seemed to appear out of nowhere. Which confused both man further.

‘’Who the hell are you?’’ asked Tony. Who the hell was mad enough decided to mess up the only chance of him stopping the big purple psycho of a man.

‘’Who do you think?’’ said the girl, winking at him confidentally but her eyes told a different story. There was sadness in them, grief and loss but it seemed like she was happy at the same time.What surprised him was the familiarity she carried but he couldn’t put his finger on it. So he searched her suit for some clues which led up to him finding the Stones. She was the reason he was not dead, she somehow got possession of the Stones.

‘’Kid, no!’’ yelled Tony. He attempted to get closer to her but she snapped her fingers before he could stop her. Everything stilled for a second. The other avengers thought Tony had done it as Thanos’ soldiers had started to turn to dust all of a sudden but when they found a girl that they’ve never seen before in the arms of Tony with fetal injuries they were puzzled. They gathered around Tony and the girl who struggled tos tay alive.

‘’I made it! I… I saved you, Dad.’’Tony was shocked at her words. He was processing what he heard as Pepper landed next to them and kneeled. They couldn’t Wrap their heads around what was happening but they both were not going to let a dying kid down for sure.

She had a difficulty breathing, she was in agonizing pain but she had a peaceful smile on her face. She tried to lift her hand but it pained her more, she whimpered. Tony sensed her intentions and put her hand on his cheek for her. He put his hand on top of her, gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘’Friday, what do we have?’’ asked Tony.

‘’3 to 4 degree burns from her right hand up to her face. Internal bleeding. Her lungs are collapsing... Life functions critical.’’ Answered the voice from both of the suits. Pepper grimaced, she didn’t know who this girl was but she had sacrificed herself for Tony, the man she referred ‘dad’. ‘’Who are you?’’ asked Pepper.

‘’I’m–‘’ she coughed, blood was pooling in her mouth. ‘’I’m surprised you couldn’t figure it out yet…’’ she let out a bloody laugh. ‘’I’m Y/N. Y/N Stark.’’ She said with her last breath. That shook the whole group to their cores. The girl wasn’t lying or confusing Tony with someone else. The girl who lied in his Tony’s arms nonbreathing was infact the daughter of Tony Stark. From the moment they realised the truth everything was a blur to the Stark Family and the avengers.

Y/N was Tony’s first daughter who had died in a cross fire 7 years ago. She was a teenager at the time. She would have been a few years older than Peter if she had lived. It was a wrong place wrong time type of situation, she had died on the scene. Tony had nightmares after that, his insomnia got worse. He had blamed himself although it had nothing to do with him. The guilt ate him alive day by day. He realised why the girl’s eyes were so familiar to him now, she was his Y/N/N. A grown, older version of her, but his Y/N nontheless.

He didn’t think he could recover from her death but losing her, seeing her die in his arms for the second time ruined him. He had no idea what was happening outside of his head, he was in a trance, he had stayed still looking at his hands where Y/N laid. Until his little girl, Morgan came up to him with a disk in hand and said ‘’Daddy! Daddy! A girl called Y/N wanted me to give this to you’’ That got everyone’s attention.

Tony told Friday to scan the disk and display whatever is in it. When he saw Y/N in front of her, he couldn’t stop the tears from falling and when she started speaking as if she could see her Tony lost it. He couldn’t hear her because of his own sobs, he didn’t even realised the rest of the avengers and his wife as they piled in the room when they heard Tony and Y/N’s voice. He had to stop the hologram a few times to gather himself. When he got control of his breathing, he built up his courage and displayed it all over again.

‘’Hey dad. I’m assuming since you are watching this I suceed. I’ve saved you.’’ She had to stop for a second to take a breath in to compose herself. ‘This time’ she said under her breath but Friday caught it.

‘’You are wondering how the hell I am alive. Well… For starters, I didn’t know that I was dead in this world which… makes you realise that I’m not from this world. I’m actually from what you call an alternative universe. Things got out of hand in my universe after… after you… Oh shit! This is too hard. I knew I couldn’t do this shit! I can’t even talk to my own god damn suit picturing it as my hypothetical dad without messing it up’’ that made a few people chuckle and a few others tos mile. The girl really was his father’s child after all.

‘’Okay I’m hoping you either won’t have to watch this or I can cut that part before giving it to Morgan. Anyways, I’m rambling.’’ Tony saw his younger self in Y/N which put a sad smile to his face. This was something he never got to experience before. To see her this grown up. To see a pieces of him in her.

‘’ So things went down hill after you did the whole ‘I’m Iron Man’ thing –which by the way I’m still mad at you about- You… You died in my hands, dad.’’ She gulped. She had begun crying a while ago but now that she was talking about her dad’s death, she felt like the lump in her throat got bigger and bigger, suffocating her. ‘’ I was all alone for years! You were all I had and then within a second you were gone! I didn’t have anyone else!’’ She tried to calm herself. She wasn’t recording this to make him feel guilty or get answers she was possibly never going to hear. This was a goodbye. A goodbye she knew he deserved just like how she did from him.

‘’That’s why I made the decision to change it but I accidentally changed universes instead of going back in time. But this was my only chance, only shot at making it right. And then I found out that I had died in this universe and you had moved on. Good for you, dad. I’m really proud of you. You did what I couldn’t. It was a relief to know that you were happy and that you had a family now. I thought for a second that maybe the blip didn’t happen. That in this universe, you had a lovely life and I thought for a second maybe I could be in it too. Stay with you but that hope was shortly lived.’’ She gave a sad smile.

‘’And now I’m about to go to the battle field. Before I go, I have to say, I don’t know how if there is any way for me to stop you. I can’t take it all back but I will do anything to not let another girl grow up without her dad. And I ain’t going to let my own sister down. Oh, did you know that I always wanted a sister?’’ she chuckled making Tony’s heart warm. It has been so long since he heard his daughter chuckle the damn way he does. She stopped for a second to think ‘’Well, she has the Stark charm, that’s for sure. I only knew her for a few hours and she had me the second we met. I wish I could be there for her as her older sister. I would give anything to see her grow up but if that has to be for only one of us to see, I’d rather that be you because I’ve been there. I know how hard it is to lose your dad. I could see clearly what she would have to go through and the moment I realised that I knew what I had to do. I would stop you at all costs and since this reacording is being played I could sleep peacefully knowing she has you.’’ She smiled with tears escaping her eyes once again. Tony was full of emotions. His daughter he has been longing for years was right in front of him but way too far away at the same time.

With a sigh she started ‘’ You have people you can hold on to. I never did. Pepper, Morgan, Rhodey, the spider kid... Hold on to them Tony. Hold on to the team. Oh, speaking of the team, tell them I love them and I missed them so badly. I’m sorry. I thought I was going to have more time to talk And maybe if a miracle happens and we all can manage to stay alive I could tell you all about it but I have to go now. Have an old man to save’’ She saluted and looked around right where the broken team of Avengers were with longing in her eyes. She moved closer to the disk to cut the recording but decided against it the last second. Tony hung his head, his heart broke to hear the hope in her voice when he knew what already happened. He thought this was the end of the recording but he looked up when he heard her talking and she had turned to him and looked right at him as if she knew where he was stated. That sent shivers up Tony’s spine.

‘’I know you think I made the wrong decision but I saved you. I refuse to let you down once again. I refuse to see you die in front of me once again. I’m not sorry for what I’m about to do, I knew the consequences when I made this plan months ago. I’m only sorry because although I tried so much to have the future we always talked about with you, I won’t be able to, Tones. But Morgan will be. And I would give up anything for that little girl. And for you.’’ She said as she caressed the necklace Tony gave her when she was a child. She took the chain out of her neck and put it somewhere Tony couldn’t see. And Tony knew this was only a tape but he tried to hold on to his daughter, to stop her from going out there. His breath caught in his throat when his hands went through Y/N’s body. He fell to his knees.

‘’ But hey if it turns out that I, this badass manage to get both of us home in one peace one we can laugh our asses off as we watch me being the drama queen that I am… Well, no one said Starks weren’t a bit dramatic.’’ The heart Tony thought had broken to a million pieces broke further as he heard the tremble in her voice as she tried to put her brave face on. But she couldn’t hide it when one last tear escaped from her slightly swollen eyes as she ended the recording.

Why do I never have good endings? Cause I write in the middle of the night when I feel sad most of the time and it's easier to write sad than it is to write happy.

I hope you liked it. I would love to hear your thoughts on this one. I'd also like to discuss if you'd like the alternative ending that could be a happy one :)

#avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #avengers endgame #tony x daughter!reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fanfic #tony fanfiction #tony fanfic #stark reader #tony x reader #tony x you #tony x y/n #tony stark #avenger reader #avengers fic #marvel fic

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ginanosakka · 3 years

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The Mind of a Monster

Masterlist

I’m Sorry | Next

“Daddy, why does everyone look like that?” Your young and bright eyes stared up at your father’s, his own having no light or warmth in them, not even as he looked at you.

The smile that crept onto his face scared you, but you smiled back nonetheless like the naive little girl you were, just wanting to return your father’s love. In truth, you had been scared the moment you entered his company office, the automatic shift in energy when he walked in the room from all his employees had you fiddling with your fingers and doing your best to avoid eye contact. It was confusing to you why he wanted you to come with him today to introduce you to his work, but he never greeted anyone or even acknowledged their existence.

You wished you had paid closer attention and broken from his leash sooner.

“My dear, you’ll learn soon enough that these are inferior beings, and how they feel mean nothing when it comes to success.”

Sitting in a conference room filled with heroes was one thing, but sitting in a conference room full of heroes being debriefed on your secret criminal business father was another. Seeing all of these familiar faces made your palms sweaty and an anxious shiver go down your spine. They were all the former class 1-A students who met your father —whether that was by coincidence of scheduling, or these were the ones who couldn’t believe the case at hand, you didn’t know. None of them were as close as Mina and Katsuki so this truthfully had nothing to do with the past, but everything to do with the present news that came out not too long ago.

They were helping to protect their old friend’s child, and his now speculated ‘wife’.

“. . . I can’t give you any more information than that, the old bastard has all of his dirty work under security, but there’s someone who can.” Katsuki said, and you looked up at him from your spot next to Ashido and Kirishima, vacating your thoughts to meet his eyes that had landed on you. “Y/N.” He called, and you stood up from your seat.

You glanced at them all again, taking note of their very clear interest while finding the words to help them understand what you knew. It wasn’t just the ones who you had just seen again for the first time in years, this was also information and a plan that you had not run through with Katsuki, Mina, or Eijirou who had discussed this meeting with you beforehand. Whether it was because all three of them looked so concerned with your safety that your plan would positively not be received well, or simply because you yourself weren’t prepared to put everything at stake wasn’t abundantly clear.

A warm and soft hand grabbed hold of yours from where you stood, and you glanced at Mina to see her smiling with encouragement. “Don’t worry, I’ll have your back, ‘kay?” She said, and you squeezed her hand.

“Okay then. First things first, I want you all to know that I haven’t had contact with him since the last year you have all seen me, not even money related. When I was in close contact with him, I was unaware of any illegal actions he’d done until I was kicked out. Are there any questions on that?” You began, doing your best to get the most obvious questions out of the way first.

The eight heroes in the room — Tokoyami, Sero, Kaminari, Todoroki, Uraraka, Ashido, Kirishima, and Bakugou — all glanced at each other for a moment, and two hands went up: Todoroki, Kaminari. You looked to Todoroki first, his dual colored eyes piercing into yours like he knew you. From what you remembered from all that hero news Ryu loved, he had his own personal family issues that ended up public information. Honestly, you didn’t know if he was looking at you like that because he related to you, or was greatly suspicious of you. Either way, you nodded at him to voice his questions first.

“Did your father use you to fulfill his own goals?”

“Todoroki, let’s stick to questions that have something to do with the crimes and just her father.” Kirishima sweatdropped, and you could see Katsuki’s expression from the corner of your eye that looked like he wanted to send an AP shot right through his left side.

‘Never let him ask me anything, good to know.’

“Kami- Chargebolt, you had a question.” You redirected the attention to Denki who looked as done with Todoroki as the rest of the group, but once you called on him he refocused on you.

“If you knew he was doing illegal stuff at some point, why didn’t you say anything to the police before?” He asked.

The air became thick in the room, and all of them looked at you with their full attention once again, and that’s how you needed it to answer that. What they were about to take on may not be physically exhausting as a villain, but the mental toll this could take would be something they’d never forget. Their images will forever be changed in the media, and they’ll never look at those who run this world the same when you expose to them the man that they’d only met as a hopeful teenager. This was a man who would stop at nothing to stay on top, even going as far as to threaten his own blood’s life to ensure silence.

“When I got kicked out of my home, pregnant and a disgrace to him, he realized that I may not have known much about how the underground business he did, but I could easily stain his image by telling my story. About a month after I was kicked out, when I was two months pregnant, a man showed up at the hotel I was staying at and attempted to kill my baby. I survived with bruises and a stab wound that entered just between my rib cage instead of directly into my stomach. That man was hired by my father to kill me. . my mother had come to the hospital to break that news to me. She is the reason another attempt hadn’t been made on my life, but it was at the cost of me disappearing and never returning again.” You laid out the full story, sparing gruesome details but not leaving any room for confusion or continued suspicion.

Denki looked horrified as he tried to apologize, “I didn’t think he did something like that to you. I’m-“

You cut him off with a raised hand, “that’s why you’re here now. No one knows how evil Eito L/N is, because he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing to the public. This isn’t your routine evidence and arrest case, and if you think there’s a low that my dear old father won’t reach to make me disappear, you’re going to end up dead, or so far in the gutter of negative media attention that your career will be over in days. You’re going to find out information that will destroy the relationship between you and the men that have made you heroes. As we speak, he is most likely ten steps ahead of us all and expecting us to move as quietly as we can for the sake of your licenses and my business.” You explained, and Uraraka stood up in distress.

“Then we should be looking for evidence! Doesn’t this mean you could be being followed right now? Why are we sitting here discussing it?” She asked, and you nodded in agreement at her words.

“You’re right, but there’s a quick end to this that only I can do at the risk of my own life. . I didn’t go over this with any of you, and I deeply apologize for the trouble I will soon be causing, but I can’t let all of you save my life while I lay down and cower with my son.”

You whipped out your phone and searched up the first news outlet that came to mind, and just as you expected, your video was being played as you spoke. You laid it out on the table after turning the sound up, watching the video you had recorded last night played to the public.

“I am Y/N L/N, the daughter of a very well known man, Eito L/N. Six years ago, he told the public that I went overseas in search of a different life, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. In actuality, six years ago, Eito kicked me out of his home after finding out I was pregnant and used that story to cover up my disappearance. I have since been living on my own with no help or contact from my father, and I urge all of you to look closer at those in power and wealth. You have no idea what they could be doing behind closed doors. Thank you.” You turned your phone off and slipped in back in your pocket as they all took in what you had done, and it was of course Katsuki who spoke up first.

“What the hell did you do?!” He growled, and you met his concerned and angry eyes with frightening intent.

“I’m making this a media circus, Dyanmight,” you smiled.

“You’re drawing him out, but why? Won’t that make this worst?” Tokoyami asked, but you weren’t the one to answer.

“He doesn’t know what she’s going to do. . she’s making it impossible to keep his tracks covered.” Todoroki looked at you, and you both nodded at each other in complete understanding. “Y/N just made this a lot easier for us.”

A/N: I was gonna keep dad’s name neutral, but it just didn’t make sense that they all would constantly refer to him as her father. So evil dad’s name is Eito! This is pretty much a small filler before we reach our real drama and end. I can’t promise a soon update and the hiatus is still very much in motion, but I wanted to get this out to you. I hope you enjoy!

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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Marinette’s Week Off

This is a one-shot. Sorry, I kind of forgot Adrien.

One week. Just one week. Marinette took one week off a year. One week where she didn’t work herself to death as Marinette. Or nearly get herself killed as Ladybug. One week where she didn’t do any favors, any designs, didn’t work in the bakery, didn’t save anyone. A week to relax. A week to meditate. A week to destress and just take care of herself. Just one week every year. To prepare for it she sent reminders to all her friends and family. She posted a flyer on the class bulletin board. Marinette finished all her commission and school work in advance.

She made Fu aware that Ladybug wouldn’t be active, told Chat Noir that Queen Bee would be his partner while she was gone. Marinette always made sure everyone was prepared for her absence. And made it clear that she would be unavailable. No matter what. She didn’t care if the world was ending.

However, this year was different than the ones that came before. For starters, Marinette now only had two or three good friends in class, and one or two mediocre ones. She only warned those three people. While she still posted her usual flyer, she had done it knowing it would be disregarded.

Marinette was no longer class president either; she no longer had to plan class trips, parties, or dances. Or anything of the sort. When she was class president, Marinette always made sure to plan her week off around the class’s busiest time of the year. That year, she didn’t have to so she didn’t. In fact, she planned her week off during the biggest dance of year, the class musical, the class’s big fundraiser. It was usually her most stressful week of the year.

Not this time.

On the Friday before her week off, Marinette reminded Bustier of her absence for the next week, and then walked out of class with a relieved smile on her face. She was almost there. Just two more days. She used her weekend to finish up any last minutes details of her vacations; confirm her reservation; spend most of the time with her parents.

And on the stroke of midnight that turned Sunday to Monday, Marinette got her bags, kissed her parents goodbye and was gone in her Uber. She knew how this week worked. By six am, the ‘emergency’ calls would start; everyone screaming fire. However, she wouldn’t be there to put them out, metaphorical fires or real ones.

Not today, Satan, Marinette thought.

Marinette got to the airport, slept on the plane ride, arrived at her luxury beach resort, a little after sunrise. She had saved up her money and did extra commissions all year to pay for it. It was beautiful. However, there was just one problem…

“Marinette, love!” Jagged called, somehow looking more awake in the wee hours of the morning than he did at 3 in the afternoon. Penny, however, looked half-asleep. Even Fangs slept on the luggage being moved by a rather fearful looking bellhop.

Marinette’s parents couldn’t get time off the bakery; it was their busiest time too. Her grandma was in Peru. Mariette needed an adult with her at the resort. Jagged happened to overhear her mother asking if she found a chaperone yet. It wasn’t like Marinette had any other options.

“I have so many Rockin’ plans!” Jagged said. “Scuba diving! Sky diving. Swimming with sharks. Parasailing! Bungee jumping!”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at her favorite rockstar and honorary Uncle, “Sleep.” She said.

Jagged waved her off, “We’ll sleep when we’re dead.”

“Sleep,” Marinette hissed darkly.

As amazing as that all sounded it could wait. Marinette was there to relax, not fight a shark. “Not today, Satan,” She whispered when she checked into her room. Leaving Penny to drag away a protesting Jagger to get some sleep as well. She called her parents to let her she had gotten there safely, called to re-confirm her spa reservation for that afternoon and then check her texts.

She had gotten quite a few as expected. Chloe wishing her a good vacation and promising to keep an eye on Chat. Luka sent her funny vacation memes. Nathaniel sent pics or didn’t happen texts; he found the possibility of Marinette all people actually taking a vacation hilarious and improbable. She’d show him though.

Then there were a few texts from her ex-friends. And it seemed like the fires had started…

When class started on Monday, most didn’t realize that Marinette wasn’t there until Bustier reminded Chloe to remind Chloe about the test next week. They all shrugged it off. Glad not to have to deal with the drama Marinette brought to class.

When Alya, the new class president, brought up the dance that Friday, things got a little tense.

“We need volunteers,” The glasses-wearing girl said. “People to decorate and to clean up and all that. We also need to get decorations.”

She received confused looks.

“Isn’t that your job?” Alix asked. “The class president does all that.”

Alya crossed her arms, “No it’s not my job. I organize and plan but I can’t do everything by myself.”

“Marinette did,” Kim shrugged. “It can’t be that hard.”

“Do you wanna do it?” Alya asked him but he quickly shook his head. “Thought so. We don’t have a big budget. So can anyone chip in for decorations and food?”

Mylene frowned, “Marinette made all the decorations and food.” They never had to chip in before. “Maybe she’d do it again.”

There were nods. They may not be friends with the girl anymore but she was still very helpful.

“OH! I need a dress,” Rose brightened up the room with her smile. “Marinette made mine last year. It was so beautiful. I’ll ask her to make another.”

A few of the girls said the same.

“Not gonna happen,” Chloe smirked. “You guys are on your own.”

Alya shot her a glare. “And we’ll be just fine.” She wasn’t happy about asking her ex-bestie for anything, anyway.

They were not fine.

Monday they had all talked a big game about not needing Marinette but by Tuesday, they realized that was a lie.

Because everything was falling apart.

Mylene’s musical was Friday, the day before the dance. More than half the class were either in it or helping with it. That meant Alya had barely any volunteers for the Dance committee. And had been reminded by Bustier about the annual fundraiser they did every year to pay for the class trip. Alya had been class president since the beginning of the year, and had been responsible for planning it. She had forgot all about it.

Alya was confident she managed though. They’d pull in enough money to pay for the entire trip and she’d get to rub it in Marinette’s face that no one needed. Alya hoped Lila was back in time from her trip with Prince Ali to see it.

In addition, neither she nor Bustier seem to remember that the fundraiser was always biggest because it was the last one of the year. Marinette usually had done several different ones by then.

Mylene was struggling. None of the sets were done. The costumes were terrible. The entire play seemed to be falling apart. They had forgot to only put up flyers promoting the play but they never even made them. She didn’t understand, normally everything would be going as smooth as silk by then. Silk…

“Marinette,” She gasped. Yes, she remembered, Marinette always helped out with the school plays. The Bluenette would fix the costumes. She’d even help out with the flyers and the set. Mylene pulled out her phone and quickly called her ex-friend. It went to voice mail. She frantically sent a dozen texts, all screaming emergency. But she never got a reply.

Marinette laid on the beach, drinking virgin Pina Colada, while talking with a boy she met while surfing and subtly eyeing him. He was a seventeen-year-old, tanned, dark haired Adonis, literally named Adonis. He was ripped in a way Marinette had only every previously seen on guys in magazines or on TV. Marinette was fifteen, (Sixteen in just a few months) had grown remarkably into her looks, and smirked a bit every time she caught Adonis eyeing her back.

“I got to go,” Adonis said. “Work.” He leaned a bit closer to Marinette. “If you wanna drop by, I wouldn’t mind. Maybe we can go for a swim together.”

Marinette flushed with excitement and blushed a lovely pink by the offer, “That sounds amazing! What do you do?”

He grinned a sparkling white smile that lit up his gray eyes, and caused Marinette to let out a dreamy sigh. “I work with my dad. We do underwater scuba tours and explore sea wildlife and dormant underwater volcanos. We just got be careful to avoid sharks.”

Marinette’s fell open, and she just stared at the older boy for a moment, “I’m a little busy today. But can we meet up later,” She squeaked.

They said they goodbyes. And once Adonis was out sight, Marinette’s eyes narrowed, “Not today, Satan.”

An image of the first time saw Adonis suddenly floated to the front of her mind. Adonis coming out of the water, with his surfer board and red swim trucks, running towards dry land.

Marinette took a deep breath to stead herself; fight the urge to go running after Adonis. Because there was no way in hell she was going to deal with a “Dormant” volcano. And she didn’t mess with sharks. Neither did Jagged anymore and he had to learn his lessons the hard way. He was lucky to come back with all his limbs.

By Wednesday, everyone was panicking. Alya refused to give in and attempted to rally her troops; with a divide and conquer plan. Lila had even come back early and graciously offered to take time away from her busy schedule to help. Alya decided they’d work on the play first. Then prepare for the dance, it shouldn’t take that long to decorate anyway, Alya had guess. Then finally they work on the fundraiser. Everything would go perfectly.

…Everything went wrong.

They worked the entire morning on the Mylene’s musical. They tried to work on the costumes. But they had no one who could fix the costumes. Any tailor they went to cost an arm and a leg. Lila’s personal tailor was away helping the Duchess of Manchester with her wedding dress. Max could print flyer but only generic ones. Not the creative ones Marinette had always made. And it wasn’t like they could ask Nathaniel for help without him spitting acid at them. The sets had to be rushed; and ended up poorly painted. Not even close to as good as the ones Marinette had help do the year before and even worse than the ones other classes had done. To make matters worse, the light fixtures they had installed started a small fire.

Mylene had a full blown panic attacked that caused one of the strongest Akuma Queen Bee and Chat Noir had ever faced.

The musical had taken up most of the day. So Alya and the class spent the rest of it and most of the night trying to prepare for the dance. The problem was their budget was small. Apparently it had always been that small which had shocked Alya and the others as they remembered the amazing dances Marinette had always thrown. The only decorations came from the local party story and were as cheap as possible. But they hadn’t gotten nearly enough when they got to gym and fully realize the size of it. But most of their budget was already shot on what they did get.

While for the last few years, Marinette’s had supplied most of the food for the dances from the bakery. It was clear to Alya that, it wouldn’t be happening. Most of the class had been banned from the shop. Alya ended up having to buy dollar store chips and drinks; and ended up with a cliché fruit punch bowl.

Everyone got in trouble with their parents for being out so late. Even if they had been at school. All the kids were exhausted and overly stressed. When Alya got home that night, she got a text from Nino that caused her to burst into tears. His DJ gear had fried. They had no music for the dance.

Not to mention Alya hadn’t even thought about the fundraiser. What was she going to do? What could she do?

Alya cried herself to sleep. Knowing that in the morning she’d have to swallow her pride and call in the big guns. She needed Marinette. They all did.

Marinette was having the time of her life. She laughed as let Heinrich and Mila twirl her around the dance floor. She was at a local teen club, out late, and truly partying for the first time in her life. He was a sixteen-year-old, six foot tall, blond, gorgeous fut-baller, with cheekbones that could cut glass. He had come to the city with his team for a charity match all the way from Germany. Mila was a beautiful redhead from Ireland, with startling blue eyes and a face dusted with freckles. She was a futballer too and was the most competitive person Marinette had ever met.

Marinette had met the futball players, the girls’ team and the boys’ team at the beach. When the girls realized they only had five plays to the boys’ six and needed another girl. They saw Marinette alone and invited her to play. They all had a blast. Afterwards, they invited her to the club that night.

Marinette had danced with everyone. However, somehow she had found herself smashed between Heinrich and Mila, more often than anyone else.

The three laughed their way off the dance floor when Tonya, a local girl with green hair, and a futballer herself, had waved them over.

“We’re going to Fairy Ridge,” Tonya shouted over the music.

Marinette’s interest was piqued. “Fairy Ridge?”

Tonya answered happily, “It’s beautiful at night. An underground cave, near the ocean. It has this opening at the top and you can see all stars. It has a bunch of colorful crystals that glow in the moonlight, and fill up the cave.”

“Sweet,” Mila said, her arm still around Marinette. “Sounds like a party, mate.”

Everyone agreed quickly. But Marinette wasn’t too sure. It was really late to the point where Jagged would be proud when she got back. Penny had made Marinette promise to avoid doing anything that would make Jagged proud; apart from the Bluenette’s usual awesomeness of course.

“You are coming, yes, Marinette?” Heinrich gave her his most charming smile that made Marinette go weak in the knees.

“Marinette, the ridge is so cool,” Tonya exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. “It’s supposed to be magic. They say fairies used to really live there. It’s cursed. They say all who enter are given a test of worth. Those who pass are stolen away to live under fae rule forever more as a fairy.”

Marinette just looked at her. She thought of Tikki, the small magical god of creation, who was enjoying her vacation in the luxury sweet as well. When Marinette left her, she had been in a bowl of cookies finally getting caught up on Game of Thrones. A god who’s power turned Marinette into a magical superhero. Magical was real. And if A kwami was real, fairies could be too.

The bluenette pursed her lips, and feigned a look of disappoint, “Sorry, guys. It’s so late. I’m already super passed my curfew. You guys go. We’ll hang tomorrow, okay?”

The other teens expressed their disappointment, though Mila and Heinrich tried to convince her a bit more as they left the club. Jagger’s personal driver already waited for her.

Once they had parted ways, Marinette got into the car and drove off. She waved brightly to the backs of the beautiful teens, “Not today, Satan.”

Thursday, the entire class was freaking out. They had all gotten there early, desperate to try to fix the mess they were in. Even Alya could admit she needed some serious help. They all waited for Marinette to show up. Surely, it had to be back by now, right? They needed her!

When the school bell rang starting class, and once again, Marinette didn’t appear. Alya nearly screamed. “Where is she?” She asked. “Marinette can’t miss this much school!”

“She’s not replying to my texts,” Mylene said, her eyes frantic with worry. Her boyfriend Ivan tried to calm her down.

“She never got back to me either,” Rose frowned. “Normally I’d get a bunch of questions asking about the style of wanted for my dress by now.”

Alya stomped her foot. “Marinette hasn’t answered a single of calls. What part of S.O.S doesn’t she understand? The dance is falling apart. I have no idea what to do about the fundraiser on Sunday. We need her. I swear if that girl lost her phone again…”

“You’ll do what?” Surprising it was Nathanial who asked this. There was silence at his questions. “That’s what I thought. You’ll do nothing. One, because you have no right to text the girl you disowned as a friend and ridiculed for the last year for help. Two, you couldn’t take Marinette in a fight with everyone in this class helping you. And three, you’re the one who turned down her offers to help all year; citing that you didn’t need her. You don’t get to beg for help at the last minute, and be surprised that she can’t do it.” The speech had turned into an angry rant by the end as the once quiet redhead glared at them with poorly concealed disgust.

Chloe knew bringing Nathanial into their fold had been a smart idea. She sent a vicious smile to the class, “Marinette’s on vacation. She won’t be back until Monday.” Chloe relaxed in her seat. “For her ex-friends; it’s her one week. You should know what that means”

There were gasps. Alya’s face drained of color. They all knew what that meant. Marinette was gone in the wind, and she wouldn’t come back or answer her phone even if fire rained from the sky as furbys finally revealed the truth of their evilness and declared themselves the new rules of earth.

They were on their own.

Lila watched with a frown as her classmates fell apart. She didn’t think this would happened when she got Alya to replace Marinette as class president. Who knew the idiots could survive without the girl?

“No dresses,” Rose realized. All the girls in class looked ready to cry. Marinette always made their dresses, always. What were they going to do? They never saved up any money for a dress because they never had to before.

Mylene started crying, “The play is ruined.” She sobbed. “I worked so hard on it.”

“What about the fundraiser?” Alix asked. “So much for going to New York or anywhere! Our class trip is ruined!”

Bustier looked at a loss of what to do as her student began to panic. “Now everyone calm down. Breath.” She said calmly. “It. Will. Be. Fine.”

Alya paced around the class, her hair wild, her eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep. “Ok, we can do this! I can do this!” She hissed. “I don’t need Marinette. I’ve never needed Marinette!” She looked around at the class. “None of us do. Anything she can do, we can do better, right?” Some looked unsure but Alya manage to rally everyone. “We can get our own dresses!” She yelled. “We can decorate our own dance. We fix the school play. And we will do the fund raiser. Without her, who need that bully anyway?”

Nathaniel and Chloe shared a look and rolled their eyes. This would be good.

The next few days would go down in Bustier’s class history as the worst three days of the students’ lives. And the most embarrassing.

Barely anyone showed up for Mylene’s musical. None of the costumes were finished. The sets were a disaster. The actors were so frazzled, they couldn’t remember their lines. Three people walked out. One of them was Kim’s grandmother. Kim who had been one of the lead actors.

On the day of Mylene’s play, Marinette woke up from her second nap of day to Penny banging on her door. When the bluenette opened it, the woman screamed, “Get ready!”

“What?” Marinette yawned, still half-asleep.

“Get. Ready. Now,” Excitement shown in the older woman eyes. She bounced around the room, opened Marinette’s closet and started throwing out clothes. “Hurry!”

“Why?” It was her vacation. Marinette didn’t want to rush. Or move.

“Zac Efron,” Penny squealed. That got Marinette’s attention and it was all Marinette need to shoot to attention and start scrambling to get ready. “Tom Holland, and Zendaya are filming a movie on an island close by. Jagged got us passed to go set.”

As Marinette got dressed she asked, “What’s the movie about?”

Penny gave a dreamy sigh, “Pirates and adventures. It’s a musical. Zendaya plays a kickass pirate who takes control of her father’s ship after he dies to rescue her genius half-brother, played by Tom Holland, who managed to figure out the location of the greatest treasure in all of history, from the evil Pirate King, played by Zac Efron.”

“Now that’s a musical I’d watch,” Marinette finished her make up in the mirror.

“And get this!” Penny paused for dramatic effect. “Harry Styles is the love interest. He supposed to be on set sometime this week.”

Marinette screamed.

They took a helicopter to the island. It was the best day of her life. She got to meet the goddess that was Zendaya, Her real life prince charming Tom Holland, and the man of her dreams Zac Efron. They were nice. They were sweet. They took so many pictures and videos with her.

When Jagged mentioned Marinette designed most of his wardrobe. Marinette even got to show off her sketch book she had brought when the cast was too busy and it got boring. Zendaya commissioned a dress. She nearly right there.

Then the director got a call, “Okay Harry’s arrived. He’s waiting at the cave. Time to shoot the act 5, scene 1.”

They all moved to leave.

“Cave?” Marinette found herself asking.

Penny nodded, “Its historically accurate. The real life Captain Wolfblood, the guy who’s treasure everyone wants, supposedly buried his there. Pirates fought and died there all the time trying to find it. Supposed to be cursed. So whoever died was bound there for eternity; their ghosts protect the treasure. Killing all who enter their domain.”

Marinette found herself stopping in her tracks, “Pirate Ghosts.” She stated. “Cursed treasure.”

“Harry Styles…” Penny sang, causing Jagged to give her a sour look.

Harry Styles… For the first time that vacation Marinette was tempted to go. Tempted to risk pirates’ curses and murderous ghosts just to see the man who had caused ten-year-old Marinette to write Mrs. Harry Styles in her diary for a month.

“I actually have to facetime my parents,” Marinette frowned. “Reception terrible out here.”

After promising to meet them for dinner, Marinette booked it off the island. As it faded from sight, and all her wishes of being the future Mrs. Harry Styles burned, she whispered, “You stepped of your game. I’m impressed.” She glared at the window. “But Not today, Satan.”

The dance was a catastrophe. Everyone in class could admit to that. All the girls wore their dresses from the year before. For the first time, there was no live performance. Just Nino’s play music from his phone. Until it died midsong. They forgot to get helium for the balloons, so they had to blow them up themselves. The chips were stale. The punch tasted like rotten bananas. No one alerted the proper staff regarding the dance so no one warned the janitor not to wax the gym floor the night before. Five kids hurt themselves. Alya forgot to get chaperones. And found Damocles and Mendeleiev shut down the entire dance before it even got passed its first hour.

The night of the dance would go down as the best night of Marinette’s life. The director from the day before had liked Marinette so much that gave her the role of Lunaris, mermaid princess, originally played by an actress who had backed out of the role at the last second. Like literally right before they were supposed to shoot her scenes. It was a small role; Marinette didn’t have many lines and only two songs to herself (and fillers song lines throughout the movie). Plus she died. (The entire part took five days to film, and Marinette ended up staying on her vacation an additional two days. Her parents instantly approved; wanting their daughter away from the drama of her ex-friends. However, Marinette would be called in for additional reshoots and scenes, a month later. Then more after that as they would expand her role) She spent the entire time in a mermaid costume. Up until the last act of the movie.

However, her character was in love with Harry Styles’ character, a mermaid prince who became human for chance to win the love of Zendaya’s character. Her character more or less had been the prince’s childhood best friend who never admitted to being in love with him until it was too late. She had spent the entire movie supporting him to win the main character’s heart. Her first song was sang as she helped him escape the underwater kingdom to go to his true love while she hid her own; choosing to put him before herself. The next day it was revealed that they were supposed to have been betrothed and united their kingdoms. Her second song happened after she chose to fight on land to save her friend and taking a killing blow for him; she died singing to the prince about not waiting to tell someone you love until its’ too late; especially if the love’s worth dying for. Or walking on land for.

After shooting her scenes for the day; she was invited by the cast to go meet Chris Heimsworth who was vacationing at a nearby island resort. They were going to go budging jumping of the highest mountain on the Island, near shark infested waters. Again Marinette only had one thing to say to that, “Not today, Satan.” She was not going to fight a shark. Not that week. No matter how much she loved Thor. (She’d later find out Tom Hiddleston was there and cry.)

The fundraiser had cost more than it raised. That was all anyone was willing to say on the subject. Particularly Alya who was missing her eyebrows.

The day of the fundraiser, the Day Marinette was supposed to return home, was bliss. At the end of it, Marinette found herself watching the sunset with Jagged and Penny.

“We should visit mermaid isle,” Penny suggested. “I heard it’s magical. There’s a spot that grants wishes… At a price.”

Marinette didn’t bother to ask for anymore. She just smiled, “Not today, Satan.”

The next morning, the Monday Marinette should have already been back home, instead she was getting ready to shoot some more scene for the movie. Then she got a call.

“Hey Marinette!” Kimi, the director, said. “We were hoping you could come in early today. We have to shoot your death scene.”

“Oh! Sweet! Where?”

“Shark cove. It will be perfect,” Kimi said cheerfully. “This time before your last breath, Harry’s going to kiss you goodbye. So eat a mint.”

Marinette mind froze. Kiss… Harry? “Shark cove?”

“Yeah, we’ll have to be careful not to attract any, you know?” Kimi sighed. “It’ll be a bit dangerous. You okay with that?”

The bluenette wanted to scream no way. But it was a new week. “I’m there,” She said firmly. For a kiss from Harry Styles, she’d do anything.

Vacation time was over. Marinette was going to fight a shark.

When Marinette returned to school on Wednesday, it was to the frustrated faces of her classmates. None of them talked to her. Just glared coldly. Though Alya did give her a sarcastic, welcome back.

Marinette just shrugged and went to sit at her desk next to Chloe and Nathaniel, who were both grinning.

“How was it?” Marinette asked them.

Nathaniel smirked, “Epic! Three fires. Two poisonings. A kid broke his leg. Four more ended up in the emergency room.”

“The play was a disaster,” Chloe added. “The dance was shut down after an hour. The fire department came to the so called fund raiser. You were gone for little more than a week and these morons nearly got themselves killed like four times.”

“We got in on video!” Nathaniel laughed.

Marinette laughed.

She looked at the stressed and embarrassed students of Bustier’s class, even the teacher looked worse for wear.

Marinette smirked.

Somebody obviously needed a vacation. Or rather… Everybody.

#ml salt #ml fic #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better

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ferretbitexo-fic-den · 4 years

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hi I'd love to request some angsty moceit for the soul (without virgil) if you have the time?? absolutely no pressure!! I love your writing 🥺💖

Ooohhh, angst dads. You're wish is my command (or coping mechanism)

What am I now? (Moceit)

Synopsis: Patton made the bed he sleeps in

Warnings: alcohol, flirting, divorce, angst

...

In all honesty, what right did he have to be so desolate about this?

Patton was the one who wanted this. He asked for this. And he got it.

…

Patton remembers how suave and smooth his voice came out of his cocky smirk. “Good evening, gorgeous. How ‘bout a round of martinis?" He ordered, leaning on the bar, winking at Patton who was used to the flirtatious greetings.

“Sure, sugar.” He recited as he did every night.

The then-stranger's friends stayed at the bar, laughing, talking having fun, but Patton’ll be damned if he didn’t notice the alluring stranger sneak peeks at him every now and then.

Not that he wasn’t guilty, too.

When the stranger and his friends left, the pappy bartender let out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. His eyes travelled to the fifty dollar tip on the counter. That was even more than what he spent. Patton smiled at the gesture.

…

The next weekend, the stranger returned with a lack of company and an oozing confidence.

“Hi sweetheart. How ‘bout a martini and a smile?” He asked, again leaning towards the counter with the same smirk Patton tried his hardest to ignore.

(And God does he wish he did.)

“Honey, that's gonna cost extra.” He retaliated.

“Name your price, Darling.” The man cooed.

“How ‘bout a name?” Patton kidded.

“Janus.” He said. Patton’s stared at him wide-eyed. “I was promised a smile, pretty.”

“Well, maybe if you’re free after my shift, why not?” Patton played along, trying to see how far Janus would go.

“I’m here all night.” Janus answered.

So Janus stayed by the counter the entire shift, keeping him company and talking to him.

They talked quite a lot during and after the shift. Turned out that Janus was a law student, and Patton revealed he was taking Education He learned that Janus' scar that travelled across his eye was due to an accident he’d been in that very year.

They parted at one in the morning with Janus flagging and paying for Patton’s taxi home. “I kept you up late. At least let me pay.” Patton knew he wasn’t going to win this, so he let it happen.

Just like he let himself fall.

Janus came in the next weekend, and the one after that, and after that. The pattern became a huge part of Patton’s college life until Janus mussed up the courage to ask him out on a proper date.

He made the mistake of saying yes. Like he made the mistake of falling for Janus. The mistake of telling him he loved him. The mistake of staying with him after they graduated. The mistake of moving in with him and saying yes to his marriage proposal. The mistake of adopting their twins after three years of a happy marriage.

But the hell if he regretted them. There was no way he’d look back on those milestones and be filled with regrets.

No. His biggest mistake, and the only one he regretted, was allowing their marriage to fail.

Five years after Roman and Remus entered their lives. They loved their ten-year-olds more than anything. More than each other. It seemed that that’s where the problem was.

They argued, they bickered, they screamed at each other, and the kids were always caught in the middle.

No matter how hard they tried, they knew it wasn’t working. Even Emile Picani, bless him, knew they needed time separated.

So Patton made the decision to slip the divorce papers on Janus' desk.

“We both know how this ends.” Patton sighed, holding back tears.

“And you expect me to simply sign it? “ Janus asked, his voice seethed. “I’m not leaving my kids, Patton.”

“Janus, please. If it’s the kids we’re worried about, we can share custody. Every other week. Please be sensible Jan.” Patton begged. “I just don’t think this is working anymore.”

Janus didn’t say anything. After what felt like lifetimes of thick silence between them, Patton left the office and sobbed in currently their, soon-to-be his bedroom.

He could hear Roman and Remus crying in their bedroom, but boys forgive them, neither of their fathers had the strength to hug them goodnight tonight.

…

Six months since Patton’s final court ruling with Janus, he drove to his ex's house to pick his kids up. Janus always was their breadwinner, after all, so it was no surprise that he was managing a lot better than he was.

The twins were waiting by the door with their other father and as he pulled up, the twins were raced each other for shotgun. Janus waved at Patton who returned it shyly.

With Remus at the shotgun and Roman in the backseat, Patton asked them how their day was.

“Dad! Uncle Logan was visited again. He even kissed dad on the cheek.” Remus said.

Patton felt his heart drop massively.

“Ooh, you think we're getting a new dad? Uncle Logan’s really cool!” Roman suggested

Patton lost all the ability to breathe for a solid minute before plastering on a fake dad smile at his twins.

“Maybe, kiddo. But only if they want to.” He let the two talk and banter the entire car ride.

…

Again, Patton had no right to feel this mad when he was the one who asked for this.

He blames the martini in his glass for the tears on his face.

....

TAGLIST❤

@shadowjag , @wigsnatchedhoteltrivago , @arsonenthusiast , @i-love-my-dark-strange-sons @phantom-moonfire , @lostonehero , @awkward-child-of-satan , @deetheimposter , @ashtonbby2 , @lokiamorstuffs , @janus-the-sassy-snek-boi , @eeveeeclair246 @enragedbees , @franthehorsegir

#sanders side fic #moceit #patton sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #loceit #divorce #human au #kid roman #kid remus

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hellitwasyoufirstsergeant · 3 years

Text

Hi everyone! I’m not really sure why I’m posting this here, I suppose because I’m not ready for people I know ‘irl’ to see this, and this is the only account I have anywhere where none of my irl friends follow it. As to why I’m posting this at all, I’m not so sure either. I suppose largely for myself, in the hope that it will exorcise some demons, and partly for other people, because eating disorders just are not discussed enough and perhaps by posting this I can show someone else that they’re not alone.

There may be mistakes in this and it may not all be 100% coherent, I found it hard to write and I didn’t wish to read it back over.

WARNING: The following post contains discussions of eating disorders and mental health issues. Please do not read if this is a trigger for you, and please not not read if you’re only here to pass judgement

Looking back now, it’s so easy to realise why I felt the way I did, and to see my descent into mental illness. At the time, it was confusing as hell. I wasn’t diagnosed with generalised anxiety disorder and clinical depression until I was 17, although I had been suffering from both for six years already, I just didn’t realise it, because I just didn’t know they existed. I didn’t know there were medical conditions to describe how I felt, perhaps if I did I wouldn’t have felt so alone and so alienated. It wasn’t until last year that I realised I’d suffered from an eating disorder. Before that, I didn’t know that binge eating was an eating disorder.

The words ‘eating disorder’ to me conjured up images of skeletal bodies, of people making themselves sick. I wish that preteen and teen me knew that I was suffering from an actual condition, that other people suffered from too.

I don’t recall specifically the first time I binged on food, but over autumn (fall) of 2011 it became a regular occurrence, a habit. It was my way of coping with the changes in my life - starting a new school, my mum being diagnosed with a clinical illness and an increasingly fractured relationship with my dad - and my feelings of loneliness. I was also self conscious about my body, I was in a more advanced stage of puberty than most of my peers and I was aware of the fact that I was a little overweight. Bingeing became an outlet for feelings that I couldn’t understand, and therefore that I couldn’t process.

It was a process that I repeated regularly for six years. It was like a paradox, the more I looked at myself in the mirror and hated what I saw, the more I binged, the very thing that made me carry on putting on weight. I was overweight, I still am today, but I wish that I could have seen myself the way others saw me - slightly chubby but not the ugly monster I thought myself at the time. I ate my feelings away, it was the only coping mechanism I knew. Even when in some ways my life improved - when I was 14 I finally fell in with a group of friends who were kind and who made me feel accepted - my mental state continued to decline and I continued to eat to cope. I was also feeling confused about my sexuality, something that increased my sense of alienation and otherness. It was often the only thing that got me through the day, the only thing that made life bearable to me.

I never confided the way I felt or my problem with food to anyone during this period. My mum knew that I had issues with food, twice she found hidden stashes in my bedroom. She has been a good parent to me, but I so wish she’d handled it differently. She made me feel ashamed, something that made me more determined to hide my problem and therefore to not confront it. I think perhaps that she would’ve been a lot more understanding had she known the feelings behind the problem, but I didn’t know how to go about telling her.

I can’t remember how old I was exactly when I shoplifted food for the first time, I think around 14. The £10 a week pocket money was no longer enough to fund my problem, even though I always chose the cheapest food so that I could buy as much as possible. I shoplifted semi regularly from the local supermarkets for around 18 months, I still don’t know how I was never caught.

In September 2016, I started sixth form college. It was a fresh start that I so badly needed, my five years at secondary school having been so unhappy. It was hard to begin with, only my oldest friend went to the same college as me and old feelings of loneliness resurfaced. A part of me had hoped that the change of school would allow me to leave my bingeing habit behind, but it wasn’t to be. Even when I settled in and began making friends, I continued bingeing.

New friends at college told me of their mental health issues, and I finally felt understood - there were other people who felt the way I did, other people who wanted to die. These feelings may not be normal, but I’m not alone anymore. Despite feeling accepted properly for the first time in my life, I continued to eat. Perhaps it was the stress of A levels (my fellow Brits know how fucking hard these are), or my mum’s decline in health, or my increasingly worsening relationship with my dad.

In May/June time of 2017, my oldest friend, Imogen, who was one of a few friends now aware of my poor mental state, told me that I should go to the doctor. After a little persuading, I agreed. She came with me, but the appointment achieved nothing. I tried a few more GPs at my local surgery and eventually found one who made me feel listened to, and who was kind and sympathetic. I don’t recall the exact time I was diagnosed (to be honest this period in my life is a bit of a blur), but after some months I was finally diagnosed with GAD and clinical depression. I still continued to stay silent about my problem with food.

Ironically, it was actually the further decline of my mental state that allowed me to break my old habit. My mental health had declined fairly slowly over the past few years, but the decline accelerated over autumn and winter of 2017. I don’t know if there was a trigger behind that, I guess mental health doesn’t need a reason. I didn’t know how to deal with the way I felt, I lashed out and fell out with Imogen, which hit me hard. We didn’t talk at all for three months. Before this period, I had often thought that things would be so much easier if I was dead, but my thoughts had never progressed beyond that. Now, it became more active. I actually wanted to die. I stopped looking when I crossed the road, I stopped looking after my physical health at all. Fears about hurting my mum were the only thing stopping me from taking it further. But, I finally stopped binge eating, so disinterested in life that even the that no longer made me feel better.

My mental state didn’t take a turn for the better, but I grew used to these new feelings and started to process them properly. I got better at pushing them out, but I did eventually decide to tell my parents about my diagnoses. My mum was very supportive, she still is, my dad not so (although I probably should’ve expected that). I made up with Imogen, my behaviour started to normalise. I felt so free from my old bingeing habit, it had only been a few months but it felt like a lifetime ago.

In February 2018, my mum told me that she’d be moving to Yorkshire. She’d been forced by her job to take early retirement due to ill health, she was only 50 at the time, and wanted to live somewhere cheaper so she could save on living costs and pay off her mortgage. I was scared, and considered for a time moving in with my grandparents so that I could stay in a place where I knew people, but eventually decided that I’d move with my mum. Still, despite the biggest change ever to happen in my life, I managed to avoid a return to my binge eating habit. I’m still not sure how. Perhaps now that the habit was broken it no longer had the hold over me that it once did.

And then, around March 2018, my dad gave me £500. To this day I still have no idea why, I guess guilt. But it was so much more money than I’d ever had. The temptation not to spend any of it on food was too great. I decided to treat myself, I’d spend £100 on food and put the rest in my savings.

By the time I finished college at the beginning of June, the entire £500 was gone, at least £450 of it spent on food. I still remember the binge I had the day after me and mum moved out of our old home and in with my grandparents, who we lived with for seven weeks before going to Yorkshire. My mental state declined still further, and I wasted most of those weeks in bed, not having the energy to do anything. I kicked myself later for not using it to spend time with the friends I was leaving behind.

After we moved to Yorkshire in August, I spent two of the worst months of my life. My old feelings of loneliness resurfaced, not helped by the fact that one of my closest friends just stopped talking to me. I seemed to alternate between binge eating, my binges even bigger than they ever had been, and hardly eating at all.

But, eventually, I managed to settle in. I got a job, I made new friends. I didn’t make a conscious decision to stop binge eating again, it just happened. I wasn’t lonely anymore, but my mental state didn’t seem to get any better. But, I had healthier ways of coping and I didn’t need to binge as an outlet for my feelings anymore. In September 2019, I started uni, and I finally felt like my life had a purpose.

Now, I have more and better friends than I ever had. I’m glad I made the move to Yorkshire, where I live now is much nicer where I grew up and if I hadn’t made the move there are so many amazing people I wouldn’t have met. Most of my friends are aware of my mental health issues, although I rarely discuss them in detail.

However, only one of my friends is aware of my eating disorder. I didn’t realise until last year that binge eating was classified as an eating disorder. I’m not quite sure why, but this discovery prompted me to finally confide in my oldest friend, Imogen. She was very supportive and understanding, and I know my other friends would be, but it’s still something where I look back and I’m like ‘woah that actually happened’. Putting it out of my mind as much as possible has been my way of coping with the fact that it did happen. I have been slightly more open online that I have irl about the fact that I had an eating disorder, but this is the first time I have discussed it this in depth with anyone.

I’m going to say now what I wish preteen and teen me had known: you are not alone. Whether you’re suffering from an eating disorder, from mental health issues, or from something else, you are not alone. I can’t say truthfully that I have never regretted confiding in someone, but the majority of the time it has helped me, even in a small way. Please talk to someone if you have an eating disorder, be it a friend, a family member, a GP, a teacher, even me. It is nothing to be ashamed of.

I stopped binge eating as a regular habit at the start of winter 2018. Although I relapsed a couple times last year, it’s been twelve months and counting since my last binge.

#shut up ange #please everyone remember that no matter what you’re going through #you are not alone #find later

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catrasredemption-moved · 3 years

Note

That whole "an abusive mother shouldn't be seen as a mother figure" sitting not well with me.

So can you elaborate on that and not make it super invalidating to people abused by foster/adoptive/psuedo paternql figures?

This feels like a trap, but sure. Buckle up, we’re going back to my childhood.

(this is long, contains emotional/mental abuse, alcohol and drug references, and is just plain unpleasant)

I was emotionally/mentally abused by my mother and stepfather for pretty much my entire life. I was an oops baby, and my bio dad at least had the self awareness to check out my life early because he knew he’d never be a good father (yes, I give him some twisted credit for that, because at least he was honest). My mom was kind of... I don’t want to say forced to keep me, but her family was very insistent. I don’t think she would have gotten an abortion anyway (put aside that this was 1991), but things might have been different if she’d just been allowed to go the same route as my father. Her parents pretty much raised me for six years, partially because she had a full-time job, and partially because she just had no clue what she was doing. And I think having her parents as a crutch for so long definitely limited her.

And then she met Paul. Twenty years older than her, didn’t even have a toaster to his name, alcoholic, drug addict. I was six, so obviously this all went over my head, but my mother’s parents did not like him (something I didn’t find out until years after they both died). My mom was 27 at the time, and I don’t know if she just thought no one else would want her because she was a single mother, if she was just desperate, or maybe she really was attracted to him, but she started dating him. I don’t remember everything that led up to the Breaking Point, because this was 23 years ago, but I remember the specific night - she was on the phone with Paul, and I kept saying I was hungry. I forget what she made, but it was something I’d eaten before and suddenly decided I didn’t like (as children do sometimes), so I was upset.

At this point my grandmother or grandfather would usually step in and just make me something else. Instead my grandfather went upstairs and told her to get off the phone and deal with it. Was I being a little bratty? Yeah, probably. Should my grandparents have just dealt with it? No, that was my mother’s job. Even if it just meant coming downstairs and making me eat the Thing. But she didn’t want to get off the phone (this was 1997, people still talked on phones. Weird, right?)

One huge fight later, my mother put me in her car and drove me 20 minutes to another city to stay with Paul and his roommate. I didn’t see my grandparents for three days. That’s when they learned they had to play nice with Paul or my mother would actually take me away.

We moved in with Paul, after they’d been dating for three whole months. My mother upended both of our lives, including making me transfer to another school after first grade, for a guy she’d been dating for three months. A guy she knew had substance abuse problems. A guy who, when home alone during the day, would sit out in the living room and watch porn (and one time watched it in my room, which? I was eight, I very vaguely remember walking into the apartment, my mother immediately grabbing me and pushing me back into the hall while saying “get that shit off her TV.”)

Some very fucked up things happened over the next twelve years, some I still haven’t told anyone about (including my wife), and some that were just wrong in retrospect. Common occurrences included (some of this might be considered lowkey sexual abuse? I’ve never thought about it that way, but my perspective is skewered af):

Telling me to turn sideways so he could see how I was “developing” (this started at 10)

Inappropriate comments about my weight and how I eat too much (starting around 8 or 9)

Wildly gross and sexual comments about my body (starting around 13)

Coming into my room while drunk and asking for a hug, then holding me for too long and lowkey groping (starting around 13 or 14)

Calling me a whiny bitch (starting around 8)

Yelling at me for eating food, especially if I finished something, because I didn’t pay for the food so why should I get to eat it all (starting around 15)

Yelling at me for daring to go out into the living room and talk to my mother while they were watching TV (pretty much the entire time I lived with them)

Telling me my mother used to have “a great body” before she got sick and lost a ton of weight (I don’t remember when exactly that started, but the sickness in question happened when I was 7)

Trying to tell me about how he and mother were getting hot and heavy while I was at school (high school; one of the only times my mother actually told him to shut the fuck up)

Enjoyed calling me stupid and calling me an idiot and other things that were entirely damaging to my self esteem

Straight up saying, after seven years of my mother insisting we were family, that I wasn’t his daughter and I never would be (13)

Inappropriate comments while drunk, to the point where I knew when he’d be drunk (because it was always pay day), and me arranging to be out of the house for a couple of days just so I wouldn’t have to be there (high school; I went to my aunt’s, and eventually she started figuring out a pattern and asking me what was going on. I was 16 when she finally realized I hate Paul as much as she does)

...to name a few things. And my mother? Knew about all of this. And sure, she tried to stick up for me once or twice, like about the food thing, but even that came with the caveat of “maybe you should stop eating so much.” (before anyone asks, yes, I’m slightly overweight, and this was some grade A body shaming). But for the most part, she enabled him. And when he told me to stop being sensitive and it was “just a joke”? She sided with him and told me to stop “whining” (whining being “trying to defend myself”). She took his side about 95% of the time, while still insisting that he was my father, because he was there and he was helping “raise” me. They’ve been together for 23 years, and she’s basically chosen him over me at this point (because I chose to get the fuck out of the house and take a job in a state 300 miles away just to escape that hell). We actually got into a huge fight about him back in June because I didn’t call to wish him a Happy Father’s Day. He has never met my wife (whom he referred to as my “friend”, and my mother saw nothing wrong with that, then got mad when I tried to say “what if I called him your roommate”), he was not invited to our wedding, and we had a fight last Christmas when I went back to visit and straight up said he wasn’t allowed to visit our hotel (because I never want him to meet my wife).

Do I consider her my mother? ...sure, in the absolute vaguest sense of the word. She made sure I made it from birth to 18, kept me clothed and fed and a roof over my head (while constantly reminding me about how much it cost to raise a kid.)

Do I consider him my father? Fuck. No. I left the house for college when I was 18, moved out when I was 22, have had three therapists, been diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and probable PTSD, have gathered a small group of my own found family, and I still carry a lot of shit from that time in my life. I hate showing my body in any way, and tend to wear shirts that are, oh, 2-3 sizes too big. I hate eating “too much”, despite the fact that a) my wife doesn’t care if I finish something and b) I help pay for the fucking food. I get extremely anxious when I try to correct someone about something (like my pronouns), because I’m afraid they’re going to yell at me and tell me to stop being sensitive. My self esteem is still basically at rock bottom, to the point where I don’t believe people sometimes when they say they like my writing. I flinch when people try to touch me (that’s getting better, though).

I can’t even give him the bare minimum credit I give my mother, because he actively hindered my attempts to grow up and move on from the shit he put me through. He was, and still is, a terrible person, and the idea of him being my father makes me sick. I give more credit to by bio father (you know, the one who walked out because he knew he wouldn’t be a good father), because he’s at least made a few half-ass attempts throughout my life to show he cares (and in a way, I think he does, he just knew he wouldn’t be a good father). Paul, though? Paul could die tomorrow and I... I can’t say I wouldn’t care at all, just because he has had such a presence in my life, but I wouldn’t miss him.

If you have an abusive parental figure (be it bio/step/foster/adoptive/etc.), and you consider them your parent, then that’s you, and I don’t judge. But Paul, no matter what my mother says, will never be my father in any way. He actively made me afraid to exist or be in my own home. He left scars so deep that I don’t think I’ll ever totally move on from some of it. I need people to remind me that nothing he did was okay or normal, and that my mother wasn’t right for allowing it.

So basically, I have a lot of experience to back up why I don’t think abusive parents should be considered parental figures. Parents are supposed to help you grow and care about you and want you to succeed. Paul did none of those things. He continues to be an active roadblock in my life, as a matter of fact. And I refuse to feel bad about not considering him a parental figure.

#Mystery Person #Sam Answers

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zootopiathingz · 3 years

Text

Siblings’ Quest

Part Four: Unloved, Unwanted

June 20th, 1999

"Mommy!" Candace chirped, skipping into the kitchen to find her eight-month pregnant mother washing off plates in the sink.

Linda looked down at her rather excited daughter, a small smile appearing on her face. "Hey sweetie, whatcha got there?"

Candace proudly help up the folded paper card that she had colored with markers and decorated with stickers, glitter, and sequins. "I made Daddy his Father's Day card on the last day of school! Do you think he'll like it?" The six-year-old asked eagerly, barely keeping herself still on her feet.

Linda's smile faded as she slowly took the card from her daughter to examine it. The front had the words boldly written in green and yellow: Happy Father's Day! with a few hearts and smiley faces on the corners.

"After he gave me Ducky Momo, I think he deserves the best card ever! Don't you?" Candace asked, tilting her head with a gap-toothed grin.

Linda had no idea what to even say to her ecstatic child. She opened the card, biting her lip and forcing herself to hide a frown. Inside the card was a small paragraph—with many misspelt words and crooked letters—explaining to her father just how much he meant to her. On the other side was a drawing of two stick-figures. One was a man, tall with dark orange hair, holding hands with the shorter little girl figure. The little girl was holding a duck toy in her other hand, with the biggest grin on her circle-face.

Linda felt like crying, overwhelmed by guilt, sorrow, and weariness.

Candace took notice to her mother's expression and suddenly frowned. "Oh no, is it bad? You don't think Daddy will like it?" She asked, fidgeting with her pigtails.

"No, no it's not that, honey." Linda assured, setting the card on the counter. "It's beautiful. It's just that..."

She couldn't do it.

She couldn't tell her.

Looking at her daughter's adorable, innocent little face. That purity in her eyes. The sweetness, the gentleness. No, the truth would destroy all of that. She would tell Candace when she was older, when the innocence didn't need protecting.

"Um, your dad's away on a business trip. He won't be back for a while." She lied, nervously pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Candace lowered her gaze, "Oh. How long will he be gone? I wanna give him his card soon while it's at least still the Father's Day month!"

Linda shook her head, "He'll be gone for a while, sweetie. But how about I mail the card to him? How does that sound?" She suggested, forcing a smile on her face.

Candace shrugged, "Um, I guess."

"Great. Now, go play outside while I find a special envelope for this, okay?"

"Okay, Mommy." Candace nodded, walking out into the backyard. She didn't seem too satisfied with the idea, but it was better than nothing.

Linda waited until she saw the little girl hopping onto the swing, then quickly walked up the stairs into her bedroom.

She pulled out a shoebox from her closet, the inside filled with jewelry, cards, letters, money, and pictures. This was a box she had to keep her daughter from finding at all costs. Sighing, she stared at the Father's Day card one last time before setting it inside, right on top of the pile of letters addressed to her. She secured the lid on the box and placed it back on the high shelf.

If she ever finds that box...Linda thought warily, then shook it away, refusing to even imagine what Candace would think of her if she did find it. No. She'll never know. Not now, not ever.

With a heavy sigh, and a heavy heart, Linda walked back down the stairs to supervise her daughter in the backyard, already deciding to get rid of that swing that her husband built.

—

April 3rd, 2003

"I wish you'd stop doing this!"

"You can't make me!"

"It's not good for you! It's not good for any of us!"

"Shut up, Lawrence! You don't control what I do!"

Ferb lifted his head up upon hearing faint but audible shouting coming from downstairs. He knew what it was, and though he knew better than to eavesdrop on his parents when they were arguing, his curiosity got the better of him.

He glanced at the old clock on his wall, and could only assume it was late at night, maybe early in the morning. He wasn't good at telling time yet, since he was only four-years-old. Pushing the quilt off of his small body, he stepped out of bed and carefully walked out of the room. He had to take tiny steps, considering the wood was old and rickety, and he didn't want his parents knowing he was awake.

He stepped over until reaching the end of the hall, where he could hear their voices getting louder as he got closer to the living room.

"You can't keep doing this, you know." Lawrence spoke, gesturing around the living area at all the used cigarettes and empty bottles. "You're ruining your mind and your body. You're going to get sick and eventually die! And you have a family to think about!"

The chubby green-haired woman merely scoffed, rolling her eyes and she lit yet another cigarette. "I don't have to do shit for you, Lawrence." She murmured with the cigarette between her teeth. "I can do whatever the fuck I want, and you're just gonna have to deal with it."

"What happened to you, darling?" Lawrence asked, shaking his head in disbelief. This was not the beautiful wife he married five years ago, this wasn't the woman he fell in love with. This was some monster of a person. He didn't know how she changed or why, but it wasn't long after their son was born that she started drinking and smoking like there was no tomorrow.

"Shit happened." She slurred, exhaling a puff of smoke in the air, causing the aroma to worsen. "You and that little crap-face happened."

Lawrence gapped at her choice of words. "Excuse me, that is our son you're talking about!" He exclaimed, utterly offended that anyone would dare talk about his little Ferb that way. "Have you no respect for the child you gave birth to?!"

"I don't give a rat's arse what that little cunt is!" She fired back, her raspy British voice echoing through the walls of the old apartment. "I don't care that he's my son, I don't care that he's however old he is, I don't care!"

"What the hell is wrong with you? How can you say that?!" Lawrence exclaimed.

The woman picked up a half-empty beer bottle and retorted, "He's a little pain in the arse! Thinking he can just get whatever he wants by begging for it! And don't get me started on that annoying voice of his! Gives me a fucking headache! I'm sick of him and I'm starting to get sick of you, too!"

"Well if that's how you feel, then leave!" Lawrence shouted, not even hesitating on his words.

This wasn't his wife. This was some bitch who took advantage of his money to buy alcohol. A woman who abused her own son and husband because she felt like it. This was truly a nightmare in reality. Lawrence didn't care if she was out of his life now. She wasn't decent enough to call herself a Fletcher.

The woman scoffed, "I'm not leaving. This is my home. You take your little shit of a child and leave!"

Lawrence was about to retaliate, but was instantly in shock when he saw his wife begin to lose it. "GET OUT OF HERE!" She yelled loudly, then threw the glass bottle at him, but thankfully, he dodged it in time, causing it to shatter against the wall.

He scoffed at her and shook his head as he walked away, "Go to hell, you bloody bitch."

Ferb shakily stepped out from the darkness, seeing his mother standing unsteadily in the living room, staring off at nothing. Her mouth hung open a bit, showing off crooked yellow teeth. Her greasy green hair was tied up in a sloppy bun, the purple dress was ripped and stained with alcohol. Her eyes were bloodshot and baggy underneath. She was the exact representation of an addict.

"Mama...?" Ferb dared to speak up, quietly and cautiously.

The woman snapped out of her little trance and looked over at the scared four-year-old. "The hell you want?" She asked, putting a hand to her hip.

Ferb opened his mouth to speak, but she quickly cut him off. "Know what, I don't wanna hear your annoying voice, anyway. Get out of here." She commanded, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.

Ferb remained still, which only increased his mother's rage. She glared at him with deadly eyes. "I said, get out of here, now!"

He took a step back, but that clearly wasn't good enough for her. She reached over and grabbed another empty bottle and screamed, "GET OUT OF HERE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" before throwing the bottle right at him.

The boy gasped and quickly made a run for it before the bottle could even reach him. He heard the louder crashing off the glass hitting the floor as he darted up the stairs and into his bedroom. He locked the door behind him and hopped into his dirty bed. Pulling the covers over himself, he began to sob hysterically.

Oh Mama, what's happened to you? Ferb wondered to himself as his body trembled under his heavy quilt. He hoped what his father said was true, that she would leave and never come back.

He didn't hate his mother, he didn't want her to leave. But he was terrified of her. He was terrified to so much as speak, because every time he even opened his mouth, all he could hear was his mother screaming at him to shut up and see her throwing glass at him to make him stop.

That was all he'd ever see from now on.

—

May 17th, 2004

Phineas carefully walked through the hallway, hesitating to even be in it considering how dark it was. It was who knows what time, and he was desperate for maternal nurturing. Eventually after what felt like forever, little Phineas pushed the cracked-open door to the master bedroom.

But only to hear the soft sound of crying.

He frowned, tilting his head as he saw his mother, sitting up in her bed with her face in her hands, weeping softly to herself.

"Mommy?" He asked softly, nearly making his mother jump.

Linda looked over, seeing it was only her four-year-old son standing in the doorway. "Oh, Phineas sweetie, you scared me." She spoke, her voice making it sound like she'd been crying for hours. "What are you doing awake at this hour?"

"I...I had a bad dream." The boy admitted, clearly frightened by whatever nightmare he had earlier.

Linda frowned, "Oh honey, it's okay. Come here." She patted the bed, signaling him to join her.

Phineas climbed up onto the mattress and crawled under the covers, laying next to his mother as she ran a hand through his bright red hair. "It's okay, sweetie. It's only a dream. It can't hurt you."

"Did you have a bad dream, too?" The boy asked, "You were crying."

Linda sniffed, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her nightgown. "I'm fine, sweetie. Don't you worry about a thing. You just close your eyes, think happy thoughts, and go back to sleep. I'll be right here with you the whole time. I'm not gonna let anything hurt you."

"Promise?" Phineas yawned, pulling the blanket up so it covered everything except his face.

Linda nodded, kissing her son's head. "I promise."

#phineas and ferb #pnf #phineas flynn #ferb fletcher #candace flynn #linda flynn fletcher #lawrence fletcher #pnf fanfic #angst #siblings quest

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theartofbeinganeldar · 4 years

Text

The Art of Being an Eldar: Legolas x Reader Prologue

Summary: You're a fantasy-loving, LARPing human from this world, who's the black sheep of society because of your obsession for the unreal and alienation of what's real. When you're in the middle of a LARP battle with some pretty phony boars, you fall out of a tree and bust your head. You wake up, alone, and are suddenly attacked by some very pissed-off, very real wargs. Without any idea of how you got there, you got dropped into Middle-Earth, with only bits and pieces of memories of Tolkien's masterpiece, though your recollection of everything else is perfectly clear. And of all places in Middle-Earth, you got dropped into Mirkwood, with some suspicious, potentially hostile, Woodland Elves...

Chapter No.: Prologue

Key: [Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color

Notes: So, this is my first fanfiction on tumblr, and I'd thought I'd try it since I have very little time for DeviantArt's chaos. It's much different from my Legolas x Reader on there. I added a small loving family to make the emotions relatable-- even if you don't have siblings, or have more than what I added, it's just fanfiction! Also, I tried to make my pronouns for said reader gender-nuetral so that everybody can enjoy it! The reason your character is so wild is for the sake of not fitting in to this world, yet you're used to it, so that later points in the plot can become more... Well, you'll see. And yes, I made Elves pansexual because I don't think they'd care much about gender or age at that point. LARPing plays a big role in the prologue, because your character is really into it for personal reasons. If this isn't your cup of tea, don't drink it. I hope you like it! Feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused, Denethor's a bitch as always, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Wormtongue Grima Wormtongue, Boromir lives, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me.)

Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Thorin x OC, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely

Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words.

Rating: Teen (14+) for now

You'd never been considered normal by anyone. You enjoyed LARP instead of reality. Your "job" was just staying at home and captioning videos all day every day you weren't LARPing instead of interacting with society at a normal job. Your home? A tiny studio apartment that only cost $450 a month without bills, and you did without cell phone, car, and electric for the sake of being your weird self. You hadn't been to college yet, despite the fact that everyone told you to go once your gap year was over, and it almost was. What would you even study? Acting was all that got you close to who you were, so, ok, guess that's fine, but nobody else thought of that as a career. Maybe you could write fiction-- you were good at that much.

You weren't always like this. There was a time when you were just a normal kid, living a normal life. But somewhere around ten, you started to change, and by sixteen you'd become who you were today. If the Old You could see the New You, you weren't sure if they'd think you were weird too, or if they'd stare up at you in awe.

Hopefully it was the latter, which made you feel good.

I mean, come on, were you born in the wrong timeframe or what?! That's what you thought, anyway. There's no way that this world was for you. The fact that nearly all people were heartless jackasses that enjoyed destroying the planet, the fact that everybody had to be the same or were considered freaks, prejudice and injustice were key factors of life and the rich got handed everything on a silver platter while the poor had to scavenge... Just, everything of this reality made you hate it. If only you'd been born five hundred years earlier, or, y'know, in Game of Thrones or Lord of the Rings...

You'd really liked to have been born in Middle-Earth. You had so many books about it, you knew practically everything there was to know, even the confusing shit about Faramir being in the Fall of Gondolin. You'd practically memorized Elvish, and dwarvish, and you knew the whole six movies by heart, every line. And of course, like most Lord of the Rings fans, you had a massive crush on a certain Elvish princeling who was too pretty for his own good. In fact, Legolas was who inspired you to learn archery; maybe one day you'd be as good as he was.

Despite your wishes, you were stuck in reality, however much you hated it

. Even amongst your LARP groups, you were considered outlandish.

Everybody else had normal lives outside of their games, whereas you pretended this was your life. You didn't have any job aside from the small caption jobs you did when you weren't LARPing, no social life, nothing. The only people you had was your mother, brother, sister, and your only friend, [F/N]. They accepted you and your strange fantasies, even if they thought you'd one day regret acting in a way when you could've been beginning a normal life and being productive.

So excuse you if you decided to invite them to a LARP event and let them borrow some of your costumes. It wasn't the end of the world. But your LARP group apparently didn't get that memo.

"You invited your mom?!" A royal asshole sneered, yet you took satisfaction in the fact that his knight costume looked like it was made of cardboard painted silver, whereas your sci-fi Elf getup was actual leather and cloth. His name was Jacob Brent; you'd never really liked him. He'd always had it out for you because your costumes were so much more fabulous than his. Plus you may or may not have actually known swordplay and archery and dagger throwing and martial arts... Kinda. You were still in the process of learning kickboxing.

You cocked a sky blue-- yes, sky blue-- eyebrow to your equally bright blue hairline, spiked up in a short faux hawk. This was your first sci-fi Elf, and you'd wanted to go all out. A cocky grin split its way across your face. "Yeah, so? It doesn't effect you on any level, Tin Can."

He sniggered with his cronies. "I can't believe you don't have anyone else to come with you." He mimicked rubbing his eyes like he was four. "'Oh Mommy, I need somebody to come with me!'" His whole group burst into laughter.

You surprised them by joining in, actually appluading. "Oh, wow! Wonderful, just wonderful! Hey, should I tell Mindy that I seen you feeling up Roxie behind your fort last week?" He paled, and almost everybody in his group of crappy cosplay got 'o' faces. You put your hands on your hips. "Guess what, asshole, just 'cause I'm close with my family and you're not with yours doesn't make it a crime to hang out with them. It's my life, my decision, and I enjoy spending time with them." You hefted up a disappointingly fake spear, turning to walk away. "Oh, and by the way, your paint's chippin' off."

Reason for Hating Reality Number 6, 965: Immaturity levels are almost incomprehensibly high.

Your mom glared daggers at Jacob's Immaturity Harem. She'd always been a tough gal, always sticking up for you when you got bullied when you were younger, but now that you were an adult, she had to let you kick ass yourself; you were pretty good at it. "I don't like him." She stated casually, and you chuckled.

"'Course you don't. He looks like a cheesy robot costume you'd get from Wal-Mart with a too-big crotch protector that's not impressing anyone but himself, and he has the face of a roasting pig. Too tanned, too grubby, and always with something in his mouth."

She smiled slightly. "Has he always been giving you trouble?"

You swung your gear pack off of your shoulder, letting it yank itself down to earth. "Since the day he tried kissing my ass 'cause he didn't know me." [F/N] must've overheard that last sentence, because he burst into laughter when he approached with your brother, [B/N], and your sister, [S/N]. "You talking about Jacob?"

"Sure as hell."

You'd first met [F/N] a year ago, when you'd joined extra-curricular activites for your last year of high school. He thought your personality was incredibly brave, especially in this modern world, but even still... He was just a friend, not a best friend. You'd never had that luxury outside of your tiny family. You just didn't trust him after the life you'd had.

Unfortunately, it seems they didn't like the getups. "Do I have to wear this?" [B/N] asked dramatically, slumping over. He didn't look right in the pauldrons and leather breastplate.

"It's too heavy!" [S/N] complained.

You sighed theatrically. "My piteous children, deal with thy armor, for it must be worn despite thou complaints."

[B/N] pressed his palms together and bowed down. "Screweth thou, false companion."

You mimicked his bow. "Off to hell with thee."

"Hey! You guys! It's starting!" [F/N] cried, and ran off, his pack of weapons and magic bags trembling dangerously on his back. The rest of you followed more slowly, as you explained to your family how exactly LARPing worked. Battles weren't actually bloody, magic was just colored powder, you get points for a hit, and so on and so forth. [B/N] and [S/N] got it immediately, but your poor mom, who hadn't even ever played Skyrim, had no idea how the point system and leveling up worked. You had to explain it six times over before you'd reached the massive gathering of LARPing cosplayers. [F/N] returned to you as you reached it, carrying a map. "We were in Larsgyushter Prairie last, right?"

"Duh," You shrugged, at the same time [S/N] asked with a grimace, "Luckyestire Prairie?"

[F/N] inclined his head. "Well, I made some arrangements because your family joined us. We made for Glewnburg, where we picked up their characters, and then headed into the Elder Woods."

You took the map. "Sounds fair enough."

[S/N] frowned. "What exactly were you guys doing last time?"

[F/N] blushed; he must've liked her, which made you feel proud and like pummeling him all at once. "A quest to defeat a horde of wildebors in order to get a good amount of gold."

"How much?"

"Four hundred."

Your mom seemed confused. "Is that a lot?"

"For the land of Sisgremor," You retorted, "Not much. But it's enough for us. We hunt for food, and sleep in the woods. It's summertime, so we don't have much need for shelter unless it storms, and we know where to find caves. The coin is for some new bits of armor, and some weapon upgrades and a couple of magic books for [F/N]."

"Oh," Your mom said, and you took the lead, getting into your Elven character with a huge grin on your face.

"Come, my children! We must meet the bors by midday!" You ran off, but you didn't miss the looks over half of the LARP community gave you.

~le time skip~

The one thing you didn't like about LARPing was the enemies. They weren't believable and were crappily dressed, at least in your community. They were crappy actors and their dying acts were unrealistic. Unless they were orcs that had good makeup skills and good cosplay, they weren't worth fighting, but you had an imagination to kick them up a notch.

As always, the wildebors were just some guys in black outfits decorated with needles, and wearing pig masks with an underbite bearing tusks. Your imagination knocked them to eight-feet long beasts with bloodstained tusks, wild red eyes, and porcupine-like needles that shot out of their near-impenetrable hides if provoked.

You'd only fought these beasts once. They had three separate healthbars, each a different strength: eight hundred, four hundred, and one hundred. Your spear-- the only weapon you could afford after your bow snapped (Poor prop craftsmanship.), had a damage rate of ten health per hit, thirty if you could make a three-combo move (The highest combo move allowed.). [F/N]'s magic bombs, bolts of energy, and other magic stuff only varied from ten to fifty health damage per hit, except for his Fyrering, which was a once-a-day power that was ninety health damage, plus a three minute window of burning which took ten damage every thirty seconds.

The boars were also viscious; one hit from them took around fifty health, and at level nine, you and [F/N]'s health bars were only at two hundred and fifty, plus your armor rating of fifty and his of twenty. Your family, however, were only at level one, with a one hundred strength health bar each and armor ratings varying between ten and fifteen.

In short: that meant a hell of a lot of hits, very little openings, and there were always numbers to consider. There were six of them, and five of you. If you had your bow, this would be easy. You'd climb a tree, avoid their needles, and fire your twenty-five damage arrows relentlessly (With the thirty plus bonus from your actual bow.) while [F/N] pelted them with magic. You could take down two, maybe three that way before retreating, waiting for your strength to regenerate and your undamaged arrows to "respawn" before coming back for more battling (The arrows don't actually exist, for safety reasons. You had to wait for ten minutes before an approximated number of arrows, determined previously by the quest-giver, "reappeared" in your "inventory.").

But you had to think of a new plan. A brand new plan. You had three level one novices, two level nine intermediates, and six angry-as-hell wildebors that were level twenty. This was an impossible quest. You should never have accepted it knowing your family was coming.

You were hiding behind a huge oak, and glanced around it; for a split moment, you saw the crappy actors, but your mind quickly fixed that. Above and to your immediate right, [F/N] hid behind a mound of boulders up on a hill, and you'd positioned your family similarly. You just couldn't see them. [F/N]'s hand waving caught your attention. Frantically, he pointed above you. You whipped your head up, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. You gave him a look like WTF dude, and he rolled his eyes. He picked up a rock as an example and pointed back up into the branches, but still, you didn't see anything. He gestured again, almost forcefully, and this time, you seen it: brightnuts, a specialized kind of walnut bred specifically to explode into a bright white light on impact, with dangerous shrapnel and poisonous fumes that had one hundred and fifty health damage.

Of course, in reality, they were just blue and white beanbags hanging in nets rigged all over the branches, but you pretended they weren't.

But still, perfect.

You'd start calling out orders as soon as you started throwing them. [F/N] knew how to improvise to a plan already, but your family didn't. You propped your spear up on the tree, and started climbing, wincing when the bark scraped your palms; you were wearing what'd used to be white bridal gloves, but you'd tinkered with them to match your costume, sewing sky blue patterns into the gloves.

You personally didn't make a sound, but a couple of leaf-covered branches fell; luckily, wildebors were mostly deaf and blind, so you should make it to the top of the tree without any consequences.

You flashed [F/N] a triumphant smile when you reached the topmost branches, snatching a bag of brightnuts and holding them high above your head. He shot you a double thumbs-up, then made a wheel-like gesture to get you to move on. You stuck your tongue out at him, then readjusted yourself on the branch to get a good aim.

A few seconds of struggling against the knot, and you'd gotten the net open. With barely a minute of hesitation, you drew your arm back, and fired. Your aim was almost perfect. You hit one of the wildebors in the side, and you seen the actor as he started the most over-acted reaction you'd seen yet: a violent jump, then what sounded like a deranged "Guuuugh!" You rolled your eyes. So dramatic.

Either way, [F/N] whooped behind you. "Hit! A hit!"

Before you could give any orders whatsoever, [B/N] charged down the hill with his realistic-looking wooden battleaxe bellowing a war cry. You slumped over. "Aw, shit."

In the blink of an eye, [B/N] was officially dead but still pummeling the poor actors, your mom didn't know what to do, [F/N] didn't realize what was happening from behind his rock, and [S/N] was dodging air like a boss. You waited on the branch until the coach of the actors stood, took off his mask, and blew his whistle.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! You with the axe! You died already! Come on everybody, regroup, come on..." Your mom and [S/N] were laughing it off with a couple of the actors, but [B/N] was having a heated argument with the rest of them, and they were starting to shove each other around; he'd always been a sore loser. The coach separated them, and [F/N] called to you from below. "Guess we failed this quest, huh?"

You shrugged. "It's all good. There are other, less dangerous quests."

He perked up. "Yeah, so hurry up and get down here! We've gotta get back to Glewnburg!"

You tossed the beanbag you'd had in your hand back into the net. "Comin'." Unfortunately for you, you were a bit of a show-off. You stood, stretching your arms out for balance, walking quickly and carefully across the bough. A loud snap that echoed through the forest silenced everyone: your sudden movements had weakened the branch down the middle, where a split was slowly cracking open.

"Oh shit." Did I have to choose the top branch?

Everything seemed to be in slow motion as you fell. Your ribs exploded with pain as you slammed into a slightly lower branch full-force. Your ankle snapped. Your arms were whipped and bruised. Your head cracked painfully across the thick, unmoveable base of one branch, and white and yellow dots burst in your vision. Your sight started to fade, as did the pain, until you met the ground with a dull thud.

I should've went to college.

~time skip~

When you woke up, the first thing you realized was, Hey, I woke up! I'm alive! which was immediately followed by, Holy fucking shit what the fucking hell did I break, then a much more painful thought of Why the fuck am I still in the goddamn forest?

And you were. You were laying on your side, in a couple of very small but still immensely terrifying pools of drying blood, one of which came from the corner of your mouth. Your entire body throbbed painfully. Every breath you took caused sharp, white-hot pains to spiderweb across your entire torso. Your ankle was burning up, and you couldn't move it or your left arm. Your head felt like you'd been hit by a truck. A truck made of solid wood...

Why were you still in the forest? You knew your mother well enough to know that she've panicked. She'd've screamed your name and ran to you and called 911 immediately. [F/N] would've done the same. In fact, there was no reason why they wouldn't have called for a medic. You fell from the equivalent of a three-story building with poles sticking out of it.

By all accounts, you should be near death.

So why were you still in the forest, exactly where you'd fell?

With immense effort, you rolled onto your back, panting heavily and wincing against the pain. Your vision swam, and things were blurry. The trees were different; the tree where you'd fallen from was tall and branchless for most of the way up, and definitely not an oak. To boot, there weren't any nets full of beanbags, and your spear was gone. Behind you was a cliff with an outcropping of rock that looked similar-- but not the same-- to the one [F/N] had been behind. There were roots and underbrush and bushes and walls of thorny branches surrounding you, and in between the ground was filled of orange and gold fallen leaves; up in the canopy, which hadn't been as thick before, the leaves were all dressed for Fall. You stared at it in confusion. "What the hell?" Shit. Even that hurt.

Where were you? Why weren't you in an ambulance with the sirens blaring? You were pretty positive you'd broken quite a few bones, and from that fall, you couldn't not have internal bleeding. So where were you?

You waited, but no one came. When the sky started to darken and the pain began to worsen, you were forced to move, slowly getting up, inch by inch, until you'd managed to be in a sitting position. It felt like all the blood rushed from your head and torso, making you cold in the evening chill. You hugged your right arm to your chest, really wishing you'd've worn arm cuffs or something; your short, high-collared, sleeveless, sky-blue leather jacket over a thin white crop top and a black corset-style belt really weren't meant for chilly weather.

"Hello?" You called out. Your voice carried on, but you got no return call. Blood trickled down your chin from where your lips had rebusted; you were lucky you hadn't bit your tongue off or shattered teeth. "Hey! Help!" Still, nothing. "Hey!"

After a twenty-minute bout of screaming for help, you gave up. You were confused-- so, so, confused. Where were you and why were you here? Where was your family? Where was [F/N]? Where was the coach, and those shitty actors? Hell, where was the rest of the LARP group? You'd even be relieved if Jacob appeared out of nowhere.

The moon had risen by the time you’d made it to your feet. Your ankle wasn't as bad as it was earlier; you could put some weight on it now, even if it wasn't a lot. You must've only sprained it. You tried calling for help a few more times, but only the crickets replied.

Then, they went silent.

You frowned. In books and movies, that was usually a bad sign. What'd caused them to shut up so abruptly? Not aliens, you hoped, like in Signs.

A low growl from behind you-- behind you, dammit-- made your skin crawl. A chill ran down your spine. You turned, slowly, hoping you wouldn't aggravate the wolf or coywolf or whatever it was; it wasn't either of those.

It stood on top of the small cliff, and it was at least the size of a horse. A boar-like coat, dull brown, covered its entire body, spotted in places. Its head was broad and massive, bearing an underbite of fangs and small beady eyes. Drool fell from its jaws as it snarled at you. You were half tempted to try the "Nice doggie" before you seen the rider.

Damn, it was ugly as hell. Small, malformed, with dark green skin and a crooked nose. Greasy, thin hair hung from its wrinkled scalp. Nasty claws protruded from its wart-covered fingers and dug into the horn of some kind of saddle. It sneered with an evil grin, and a mouthful of sharp teeth.

You didn't know what else to do; you took off running at full speed, ignoring the pains shooting up your leg from your sprained ankle. Branches and weeds whipped your skin, trailing blood. You glanced back once. The monster-- which you knew was an orc-- and the giant dog that you couldn't place the name of watched you for a couple of moments more before the orc gave a sharp order in a language you didn't understand, but it felt familiar. Two more of the giant dogs burst from the bushes on either side of the first, and they did give chase. Shit, were they what'd happened to your family? Some whackjob dressed as an orc riding a pitbull on steroids mauled everybody?!

You pushed yourself to run faster. Your heart pounded in your ears. Adrenaline rushed through your veins. Each step jarred your aching body, but you couldn't stop. The dogs were enjoying the chase, keeping their strides slow enough to still be on your heels, but not close enough to get you yet. A new sound-- a river, maybe-- gave you hope, and you tried to move even faster, your lungs burning from the strain.

It was a river you'd heard, but it was down a steep hill filled of arching roots and thorny bushes. You didn't have time to stop; you barreled forward, tripped, and rolled the rest of the way, hurting your body even further. By the time you reached the pebbly shore (With all of the sharp edges of the rocks jabbing into you unnecessarily.), the dogs were halfway down, the orcs riding them laughing like hyenas.

You couldn't swim, but you'd rather take your chances with the river than with the giant pitbulls. You waded in, and were immediately swept off your feet by the strong current. It dragged you under, and you were bashed into some boulders, getting cut up badly. One slammed into your hip, nearly causing you to suck in. Another rammed into your already-broken ribs, and this time, you did scream, getting a huge gulp of water. A crimson cloud engulfed you as something long and sharp burst through your calf. You were pushed up against another boulder, and you grabbed on, hauling yourself out of the water and hanging on for dear life, hacking and coughing out the water that'd filled your lungs.

The dogs had chased you up the shoreline, and the orcs carried shortbows with arrows of dark wood. A glance down and, sure as fuck, they'd hit you with one in the calf, dammit. You looked ahead of you: rapids, a slow and drawn-out death. Ahead of you, probably a very painful death, but hopefully it'd go faster than drowning while being battered to a lifeless corpse.

I should've gone to college.

You squeezed your eyes shut tight and braced yourself for the next arrow, but you were pretty much forced to open them again when you heard the sound of dogs yelping and orcs wailing. One of the dogs was dead, neck slashed open and pouring blood onto the rocks. It had landed on its rider, who struggled beneath its weight. The other dog had taken off, but its rider had an arrow jutting out of its face.

A troop of warriors, clad in forest-colored tunics of dark browns, greens, and grays had appeared in the second you'd closed your eyes. Every one of them had long, straight hair, braided away from their faces. Most had a quiver of arrows and a longbow, but some, like the one who'd killed the dog, had a curved longsword. Others still had long knives. Compared to the dark orcs, these people seemed to almost be made of light...

Oh shit.

Elves. These were Elves.You could see it clearly now, in the way they carried themselves: regal, majestic, every move perfectly balanced and smooth. Their ears were pointed, but not drastically like the ones from Zelda, and they were taller than most average men. You were in awe.

These were some damn good actors.

No, they couldn't be actors. That clicked, finally. Especially when you were able to see the one that'd killed the dog slice off the struggling orc's head cleanly and deftly before kicking it into the river. Thankfully, it didn't come near you.

Shit. These were real orcs, real giant bloodthirsty dogs, real Elves... This was all real. But how...?

You heard the sound of a bowstring being pulled taut, much closer to you. You couldn't exactly whip around in your current state, but you still moved as fast as you could. Another Elf, standing on the flat rocks halfway across the river, no less than thirty feet away. How the hell did he get there?!

After the initial shock passed, you realized there was an arrow nocked in the bow. You'd already felt one once in the last ten minutes, you didn't need to feel it again, so you stayed still. He watched you with eyes so blue you could see them from where you were. He was illuminated from the side by the moon, giving him an almost ethereal appearance. His hair was somewhere between platinum and very light blonde, and a quiver of orange-feathered arrows hung over two identical sheaths for ivory-handled long knives. His bow was almost as gorgeous as he was: dark wood engraved with golden leaf designs. His tunic was dark green, and you admired his fancy Elven belts and buckles and bracers for a second before your eyes were drawn back to his face, the profile of which was almost... Dished, in a way, like an Arabian horse's. Your eyes locked, and you felt as if you'd seen him somewhere before...

An Elf on the shoreline spoke, breaking the trance. You couldn't understand what exactly he said; you could've swore you knew some Elvish...

The Elf staring you down watched you for a minute longer, then jerked his bow toward you in gesture, shouting an order to one of his comrades. His voice sounded so familiar... It was on the tip of your brain... It was deep and soft and gentle and commanding all at once. You couldn't explain it. Two Elves followed his order, nimbly leaping from tiny rock to tiny rock to get to where he was, then past him, coming to you. Their weapons were sheathed, so you hoped they were going to help you instead of kicking you into the water or something.

Carefully, noticing how banged up you were, they grabbed you underneath of the arms and lifted you onto the flat rocks the blue-eyed Elf stood on, still ready to fire, and stepped back as you coughed up some water in a delayed reaction to nearly drowning.

When you finished, your eyes felt like they wanted to close on their own. You felt too tired, too weak, too pained... Despite that, you sat up, shivering in the chilly evening air. "Th-thank you..." With a start, you realized they might not even understand English.

"Who are you?" The blue-eyed Elf demanded. "Answer me quickly; do not think we cannot throw you back to the river."

Shit. Pressure. Suddenly you forgot your name for a split second. "I-I'm [Y/N]."

"What are you doing in these lands?"

"I was chased," You looked pointedly at the dog and orc.

The Elf watched you for a minute, judging you... He signaled. "Throw them back into the river." Suddenly, you were being dragged.

Aw, fuck. You struggled against the Elf's strong grips. "W-wait! I don't even know where I am! The last thing I knew I was playing a game with my family and I fell out of a tree! All of a sudden I'm being chased by giant dogs and being manhandled by a couple of Elvish pri--!" You were cut off by a bought of coughing that wracked your body so hard that you doubled in on yourself, pulling the Elves down with you. Your eyes widened when blood trickled out of your mouth, leaving crimson droplets on the rocks. Shit.

The blue-eyed Elf ordered something in their tongue, and the two dragging you halted on a dime. He finally decided to lower his bow a little, inspecting you. "Are there more of you?"

You shook your head; you were getting dizzy, and your vision was blacking out. "I-I don't know... I was alone when I woke up."

The Elves conversed in their own language for a few minutes, and the blue-eyed Elf finally came to the conclusion that you weren't much of a threat in your current state. He looked to the Elves on the shoreline, and gestured at one of the ones holding you, who then scooped you up bridal style, but like you were the ugliest bride he'd ever seen. "Und win'doheim!" Shouted the blue-eyed Elf, obviously the one in charge, and lead the progression back to the forest.

I should never have gotten out of bed today...

Despite the crazy situation, you managed to doze off a few times on the Elf that carried you, until a coughing fit or pain would wake you up. A fever spiked up as you crossed a bridge, and you were half out of it as you entered some kind of woody building surrounded by trees and rivers that you couldn't comprehend very well in your feverish state. You were panting and wheezing, and couldn't see straight. It all seemed so surreal, like you were viewing this from somebody else's perspective. This had to be a dream... A very vivid, very painful dream...

The last thing you remembered was Elvish chanting, golden and white lights surrounding you, and the silhouettes of the Elves. Your pain faded, and you fell into a forced sleep.

When you woke up, a breath of relief whooshed out of your lungs. It was a dream! It was all a dream! It was night, and your nighlight had gone out, but your hall light was still on. You turned over to see what time it was, but your nightstand was gone. So was your window, and shelves and desk and computer and all of your things. Your bed was different. Your relief dissipated to terror.

Fuck. It wasn't a dream.

You were in a small room. An orange-hued light came through the low doorway, and the dark walls were ridged, as if carved from the earth itself. You felt the remains of your injuries from earlier-- or days ago, you couldn't tell how much time had passed-- as throbbing remains. Your clothes were still ripped and bloodstained, and as you stood up, it felt like you were just coming off of the flu.

Wobbly, you staggered over to the doorway, hoping to find somebody that definitely wasn't an orc or Elf.

You slammed face-first into elaborately crafted iron bars.

Outside of them, fully-armored Elves patrolled on small ledges beside the spiraling rows upon rows of cells like yours. This was a dungeon.

...Well shit.

Tag List: @tesserphantom @thedragonghostofmordor @taurlel @hauntedsiriel

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80s-roger · 5 years

Text

affair pt3 - Dad!Roger x Fem!Reader

click to one of those if you wanna check:

masterlist ~ part one ~ part two

warnings: none I guess

words: 2,342

note: Sorry for waiting so long! My PC had a problem and now I'm on my phone so there's not the 'keep reading' option! A request is coming soon!

------------ on with the story, there will be part 4!------------

So after your agreement with him getting back with you legally, costed your mental health which is always unstable and never in good condition. You just have him at your house spending time with your only daughter, whom struggled to bring in this world and he knows it, however, he doesn't really care anymore about it, let alone about you. He just apologised to get back to Audrey. He loves her more than anything, you could never doubt it. He doesn't love you but her and that somehow is something.

He's been around you for almost seven months and to have the facts stated, you did sleep together. That was something you were craving for. You wanted to feel his body on you and his kisses on your skin. But there was something missing. You missed a feeling which wasn't mutual. There wasn't any love from him. You would believe he was just using you for pleasure. But then, you would say he's cheating on you again with groupies. After their new album, he was out there promoting the album with Brian. It was unknown to you why Freddie didn't follow. What wasn't unknown to you, was Roger sleeping with groupies in the meanwhile.

It felt good having his presence at this big house but not as good as it was in the past before Audrey was born. He was so in love with you. You've spent almost a decade struggling with your emotions and the instability of them.

After him coming home again, you both had sex four or five months later. It took you a while to get used to his presence again, let alone let him see your soul and your body. You low-key believed he would never ever want to have a bone zone with you after the divorce and after the withdrawal. But now, things got much worse. Your circle has delayed for three months and you had to find out if there was a pregnancy on the way. You were assured after taking the pregnancy test which was positive and it was the last thing you wanted at the moment. You wouldn't be able to bring it up with love and optimism. Your man didn't love you and he didn't know about it. You had to stop that pregnancy even though you were possibly in the third month.

You were in the kitchen, talking to your gynaecologist but you didn't hear Roger coming home after taking Audrey at the kindergarten.

"I can't keep it, I have to stop the pregnancy." You said as the lump on your throat got in the way. It would definitely be a blond beautiful kid with blue eyes. Roger's genes are so strong and it's obvious to Audrey.

"Do you know exactly the month or week you currently are?"

"Must be around twelve weeks. Please tell me something can happen." you were unapologetically intolerant about it. You weren't into making a second child with Roger. He doesn't even love you, stupid girl.

"Please, pay us a visit, it can't be said via telephone... We will see what we can do."

You made the appointment for the day after tomorrow, wishing the abortion would work, without jeopardizing your life.

"What the hell is going on here?" Roger invaded in the kitchen, scaring the crap out of you.

"Jesus, Roger!" you looked at him frightened. "Were you eavesdropping?" you asked at the same tone.

"I came to my home and I heard you talk about a pregnancy wanting to be stopped. I think this has to be discussed with me too." Roger was legit serious, he even blocked the door so you wouldn't leave.

"This has nothing to do with you." you cold-heartedly said, trying to leave the kitchen but he wouldn't let you.

"I think I helped with the fertilization, didn't I?" he ironically asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I bet you didn't use protection so you'd leave a baby inside me and then you'd never get the hell out of here." him doing it on purpose and you not realising it, stressed you just at the thought of it.

"What makes you think of that? You are so desperate for me." He was so unbothered.

"You're so up to yourself Roger, you're only here because of Audrey. Just because I accepted your apology doesn't mean I trust you again." you defended yourself.

"Audrey is my world and I don't give a shit if you trust me or not, but you're keeping this child." he sounded like he was forcing you.

"You're not going to tell me what to do, this is my body and I make the rules!" you yelled.

"Make the rules when the baby is not inside you!" He yelled back and left the kitchen. "I'm the father of it and you're not doing any abortion." for a moment you hoped he was telling this just because he was afraid it would go unsuccessful and then it would harm you too. Was he worried about you? No, if he was, he wouldn't talk to you this way.

"I will make abortion and you wanna know why?" you forcefully asked ready to attack. "Why?" he questioned, "Because you don't love me, you don't care about me and I had to withdraw our divorce because Audrey wanted your presence and so did you." you were so heartbroken, your mental health was above zero like it's always been.

"So you did me a favour?" he asked.

"Consider it a favour, yeah..." You walked outside, going upstairs and he was following you.

"So you still think I don't love you?" he asked as you were tidying Audrey's room.

"I am sure about it," you answered without looking him.

"If I didn't love you, I wouldn't even attempt sleeping on the same bed with you, let alone have sex. I wouldn't even make the effort talking to you right now. Just because I'm not saying it and you're not hearing it often, doesn't mean I don't love you, y/n." you heard his voice lowering as his speech was coming to an end.

"You cheat on me Roger." you exhaled, finally looking at him devastated. "I've lost my sleep with these thoughts. I've lost my piece since we started dating eight years ago." you shook your head frustrated with your thoughts.

"Then why did you keep up with me from the beginning?" he asked with his arms crossed.

"Because I was blindly in love with you, I didn't care. But look at me now. A second child that's undesirable. I'm not happy, Roger!" you emphasized your last words and he seemed broken.

"I'm sorry what you're going through, but we have to stick together for our kids' sake." he came closer to you, placing your fingers around his.

"No, don't do this. You're only making it worse. You make me feel defeated again." you pulled away at his touch. You were dying for it, but you had to be fully strong.

"So now you are avoiding me? You literally whined before, for not being affectionate towards you." his face characteristics were tough.

"Listen Roger, I only blame myself for loving you and letting you home again! I'm only doing it for our daughter!" you shouted and left the room and he was following you. Voices, still loud.

"Don't pretend like you don't value my presence in this goddamn house!" you felt him moving his hands frantically in the air as you were walking down the stairs. "You're too desperate and depended on me, you make me believe you set it all up."

"Aren't you tired?" you looked back at him.

"Tired of what?" he asked confused.

"Reminding me of how hard I fell for you? How hard it was accepting all these things the press said about you? You cheating on me all this time when I was home raising our child? Ain't what I did enough?" you asked disappointed. He didn't talk neither walk. He was just there standing and watching you getting pale in seconds.

"Y/n, you alright?" he asked concerned, but you couldn't answer. Your sight was getting blurry and his voice was muting.

"I... I think I'm gonna pass out." you hermetically closed your eyes and lost your balance at the stairs. Holding yourself didn't assist.

You fell from the stairs and you can clearly remember your back and head aching from the fall and Roger ran towards you, trying to help you gain your consciousness.

"Y/n! Y/n please, hey, wake up!" he searched for a steady pulse at your wrists but it was unsteady and low. "No, no, don't do this to me, please, y/n! If you listen to me, just move your lips or say something, just do something!" you could hear him speaking fast and nervously to you but you couldn't move. But you could moan or something. All you could do was just a sound with your mouth since you felt really incapable of doing anything else. "We're rushing to the hospital babe!" he tried picking you up to his arms and ran to his car.

You lost your senses throughout the ride to the hospital. The next thing you could remember was hearing him cry. Flashbacks of you going to the hospital regularly for exams during your entire pregnancy due to the early difficulties hit him like a truck. "I can't lose you too." he whimpered next to you as you attempted opening your eyes. Too?

"Has she awoke yet?" you heard a doctor speaking.

"N- no, she hasn't." A frightened Roger could be heard to you while his hand didn't leave yours.

"Maybe the drug was too strong to handle." you could hear them but not respond.

"How's the baby? Did you check the fetus?"

"It's fine... Maybe the lady felt dizzy and she just fainted. Maybe her hematocrit is low, her exams will show it soon. Is there any event that recently happened and it's causing her mental and physical pain?" Doctor asked interested about your health and you really wondered what would Roger say. He's the reason why your health is shit.

"Um she has some emotional instabilities..." his touch distanced from your skin.

"It could be some kind of depression during her pregnancy. Do you have another child?"

"A daughter, she's six."

"Maybe she was going through postpartum depression, there's no other explanation... And she still has that reflex of it." The doctor said and after five minutes of the talk he left and Roger stayed with you.

You opened your eyes after half an hour and you saw Roger's head laying to your bed while his hand grabbed yours like he's protecting you. "Rog..." you quietly said and his head popped up immediately, looking at you scared.

"Babe, you alright?" he asked concerned.

"Yeah, what happened to me, did they tell you?" you asked, itching your head.

"It's probably due to some kind of depression... Did you got after Audrey's birth?" he asked.

"Postpartum depression? Yes, but you didn't know," you told him without hesitating about insulting his ego.

"How didn't I know about it? It's about you," he asked confused.

"Anything about me is unimportant to you," you stated at the door and you could feel him getting angry with your words.

"I'm trying to help right now, but you don't help yourself."

"You were here when your first kid was born but not around during her bring up. You were touring and promoting and I was here, diagnosed with postpartum depression while you were out there ch-"

"Cheating on you, I know. I did cheat on you. But stop bringing this up all the time. Now I'm here." he attempted calming you down.

"Yeah, but your ego still over the heavens."

"Y/n, stop this I'm only doing it for the kids." his tone got higher.

"The next time, make sure you're doing this for me too because I am the one who struggles every second of the day, neither is Audrey nor this!" You shouted pointing at your stomach.

"Y/n you know I have no chill but right now, I'd have left the room. I could have let you there on the floor you know!" he tried to save himself, you attacked him with words.

"Do I own you a thank you for that?" you mocked him and he was furious by now.

"Jesus, y/n stop it!!" he shouted and you finally shut your mouth. You crossed the line even under your condition. He sat back at his chair not saying a word again.

"Whatever happens, I want you to know that I don't want this child," you said out of the blue.

"Why are you saying that?" he asked confused.

"I'm just saying." you turned your body opposite him, avoiding any contact.

"Don't you dare commit suicide. You've attempted it in the past, don't fucking do it. You have a daughter." his voice was threatening.

"She loves you, what's the point." you murmured but he heard it.

"Y/n your depression is really transmitting, I can't help you if you can't help yourself at first. If you attempt it, Audrey is done." he tried to turn you from his side but you moved your body as a sign of leaving me alone.

"Just let me give birth to this kid and let me die, I can't be like this anymore." you whimpered. Your depression has been around for a decade. Could have been more if your family issues count.

"Don't say that. Audrey needs you. I need you." his last words sounded like begging.

"You'll find another groupie, you won't need me as you did during our divorce or even before that." your cold voice hit him again.

"Get some rest, I've had enough of you." he left the room without saying anything else and you were finally ready to let your tears fall down. You struggled to keep them for minutes. Now it's time to cry without hesitation.

taglist: @bohemiansweede @funitrog

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rose-sunlight · 4 years

Text

Parings: Jake x Amy, Holt x Kevin

Summary: The story begins. The group doesn’t exist, they are separated over different parts of New York. They all end up in the same place: The Bullpen Summer Camp.

WARNINGS: Minor Character Death, Abuse

A/N: This is for the @b99fandomevents Summer 2020 Fic Exchange written for @impossiblyizzy! Hope you enjoy!

Jake slammed the leaflet down on the table. His mother had slipped it through the door of his bedroom when his father slept in the living room. He wanted to be angry at her for this, to scream, and beg, and cry, but no words or insults could come to mind. This was pure shock.

He was looking forward to this summer; 11 weeks of no homework and mindless cartoons on the TV? Count Jake in. Maybe he’d try something different, though—he remembers his friend Adrian telling him about his new skateboard, maybe he could ask him to teach him how to skateboard properly, and not just blindly jumping and hoping for the best.

But no, now his parents were going to ship him off to some wishy washy summer camp for nine whole weeks. Now, he’d miss out on everything cool a sixteen-year-old should be doing on their summer break; like brooding in angst and staying in their rooms until the sun goes down. Now, he would have to participate in ‘team sports’ and ‘community activities’ and have a ‘life-changing experience with new friends’.

“You’re shipping me off to a hell hole?!” He glowered, watching as his mother barely looked up from her cross stitch. She finished one and glanced towards him, placing the needle and thread on the kitchen table.

She sighed “Oh, sweetie,” She consoled “I thought you’d be more happy, your father decided that this would be a nice learning experience for you.” Jake took a step back. Of course this was his dad’s doing, of course he’d want him gone for the entire summer for his own personal gain, so he could do whatever he did when he wasn’t there to witness it (Jake didn’t really know what it was that he did, but he assumed it was on the same level as sacrificing baby animals, like the demon he was).

“This is his idea?!” His voice raised a pitch so he sounded more like some of the girls in his class. He didn’t want his dad to wake up in a drunken rage, but he was increasingly wanting something to hit. If it was his dad, so be it.

“He’s your father Jake, not Satan”

“Here I thought they were one and the same. That’s not the point though, the point is that I’m not going to some wishy washy summer camp!” He retorted, before hearing the angry footsteps of his father coming from around the couch. His dad wasn’t a conventionally scary person, but it was the way he moved and spoke that managed to strike fear into his heart. He was like a giant in an average-sized person’s body, and right now, Jake felt 2 feet tall in his presence, and cowered. He didn’t like getting on the wrong side of his dad.

He looked down at Jake, arms crossed and face in a perpetual frown. Every day he saw this scowl, and every day he got his ass handed to him because of their disagreements.

His father had a booming voice when drunk “You’re so ungrateful!” He spat, “Look at the way you’re making your mother feel!” He looked back to his mom, who was frowning. Jake began to feel more guilty by the second “We want you to go, so you will be going!”

Jake puffed his chest out and scowled, fists bawled by his side “but-!”

“-You’re such a lazy little shit! This is why we want you out the goddamn house-” He physically shoved Jake, like a bully on the playground, and Jake’s eyes widened. He had been taken aback by the sudden escalation, even when it happened every day, practically. The stream of name-calling and hitting never really ended.

Jake stepped forward once more; he stood by the fact that he never learns his lesson, so his retaliation wasn’t unexpected by his parents “I don’t want to-”

He never did get his words in when he was arguing with his dad. Instead, he felt the harsh punch against his face, and sensed his body falling to the floor and crawling away until his back hit the cold wall. There was fear plainly shown in his eyes, as there always was, as the red splodge on his face ripened. “If I hear one more whiny ‘I don’t want’ out of your mouth…” He growled “you’re always whining about something, always playing the victim. That’s why nobody likes you, Jake. That’s why you’re getting shipped off to The Bullpen camp. Pack your bags.”

Jake stood up quickly, filing out the room. He knew when he was beaten, and that was one of those times. He angrily, but silently, stomped towards his room, trying his best not to punch his small twin bed in a sheer moment of fury.

He flopped down, knowing that he was going to go to this dumb summer camp even if he was dragged kicking and screaming, which he definitely would. He hit his pillow before flopping onto his bed, letting his rage take over before inevitably packing for this 9-week-hell.

~ Charles never did anything on instinct. That was something his mother always berated him for, in her own loving way. He didn’t take action, like how all Boyles never take action, and this seemed to cost him everything.

His everything, even if he had only known his everything for six months. Charles knew he was in love with her, and she knew that she wasn’t. She didn’t look him in the eyes as she sat him down by the high school bleachers on the last day of term before summer. Charles had planned out their agenda for the summer, for all nine weeks, so that they could spend as much time together as possible. She patted his hand and smiled, but she never really looked at him directly.

Eleanor wore her hair perfectly, with bleached blonde summer hair and dazzling sea green eyes. He could write a whole novella about how her sparkling eyes made him feel, and how, if he took more action, he will ask her if she’d like to travel the world with him so he could try and find a sight prettier than her eyes.

“You’re a really good…person, Charles-”

Charles cut her off immediately, eyes full of adoration “It’s because you make me good, I mean, you’re the two halves of my hole!”

“And that’s great, but-,” Eleanor paused, taking not of the gesture Charles had made “wait, do you mean ‘whole’ or ‘hole’? N-no, it doesn’t matter, what I’m trying to say is that-”

Charles once again cut in, placing a caring hand on the small of her back, which she flinched away from almost immediately, only spurring on his concerns “My sunflower, is something wrong?”

Eleanor stammered “Yes…uh, um, no—well…okay, I’m just gonna say it.” She sucked in a large breath before continuing “I’m breaking up with you.”

Charles froze, he didn’t know what to do. One part of him wanted to break down and cry, and another wanted to fall to her feet and beg her to reconsider. He didn’t do either, instead, he stiffened up, listening to her reasoning but still not completely hearing her. The one overarching concepts she had brought up was that he wasn’t impulsive enough for her.

“I just think I need someone who takes risks.” Her voice echoed in Charles’ brain, playing like a broken record as he trudged the five mile walk home. She wanted someone the opposite of him, someone who could decide between two restaurants in under an hour. His norm was to wait until one of them was closed and go to the only one left open. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want him, either.

Through his blurry vision and tears, he made his way to his computer. His parents were out, not returning from their sensual food tasting for couples retreat until much later in the night. Charles punched in the first thing he thought of—‘how to take more risks’. When the results seemed to extreme or adult (no, he wasn’t going to have a one-night stand, Wikihow), he changed it up, editing the search bar to tailor more to him. One of the results that came up was to go on impulse trips. He thought he might be able to do that if they gave him some time. He then researched ‘how to take impulse trips for sixteen year olds’

Google disregarded the first few words, instead focusing on adventures that were specifically for teenagers. He factored in how far away most were, and how uncomfortable he’d be in hot areas like Thailand, and found the perfect website. Without even consulting his doting parents, he had booked a place, and spent almost all his summer money on this trip. Old habits didn’t die that hard, though, and he was already packing when he had a week to spare.

This would show Eleanor how brave and risk-taking he was. After he had taken place in the activities scheduled, she’d take him back in a heartbeat.

~ Terry had secretly prayed a day like this would come. He had hoped that it would come later, but it had still answered his prayers in a dark way. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he had hoped for something less permanent for him.

Because as much as his dad used to hit on him, he never wanted to put on a jet black suit and see the day his father was put to rest. He didn’t want to listen to his family cry, and talk about how his dad was such a good man with a good heart. He didn’t want to stand up and deliver a speech about how, despite their non-existent bond, he loved his father and was devastated when he didn’t come home from the bar that night.

But he was devastated. He didn’t know why, but he was in mourning over his father’s death, but not in the way he was expecting. He didn’t mourn the same way he did when his Grandma Ophelia died. That was the feeling of incompleteness, like the memories of her were too little, and he wished he had spent more time with her. With his father, he was feeling as if he had lost hope.

He had always thought that if he gave his dad time there would be a day where he’d snap out of it, and he’d beg to be forgiven, go to his basketball games, and finally see him graduate with a proud smile slapped across his face. Terry now had concrete evidence that this would never happen, and the hope of playing happy-families was gone. He was left with painful memories and mental scars of his torturous behaviour.

The worst part of the funeral was black-suited nobodies to him coming up and telling him how to grieve, how they were sorry that he had lost such a prevalent role-model in his life. All Terry could do was grit his teeth and smile through it. There was one man, though, who he hadn’t even heard mentioned once by his father. One person that was grieving differently to everyone else; he was crying like he actually meant it, but also like he had already made peace with the loss. Terry found him intriguing.

When the man, dressed in a black tux with a bright green tie, different to everyone in the room, with a full head of bushy blond hair and a small frame, came barrelling towards Terry, he braced himself. He was ready for this man to defeat his expectations.

“You the son?” This abnormal man asked him. His accent was inherently English, dulled down by being in America for so long, or so Terry suspected. He wanted to say no, that Laurence was just over by the corner, drowning himself in alcohol even though he wasn’t the legal age. Instead, he just nodded. “Terry or Laurence?” he asked again.

Terry grit his teeth “Terry”.

The man snorted, not offering any condolences at all “A right dipshit, is what your dad turned into.”

“You mean he wasn’t always?” He didn’t want to laugh at his dead father’s funeral, but this man was doing it for him, letting out a massive guffaw at this stereotypical catholic wake.

“Your old man was good fun, at another point. All went to shit when his mom died,” He told him, and Terry perked up at the possibility of his dad ever being fun “I guess he never did speak about me. I’m Nelson.” Nelson extended a hand for Terry to shake. He obliged.

“How did you know my dad?”

Nelson chuckled. He pulled out his wallet, reaching for a picture. “The Bullpen Summer Camp in the late seventies,” when he saw how clueless Terry was, he lightly shoved him in a well meaning manner. Terry flinched. “Suppose you don’t know about that either, ey? Nah, your dad was voted ‘Camp King’. He was amazing at all the activities, I mean, he was the feller you wanted to share a kayak with—he made you laugh, and was a damn good rower. That’s the version of him I want to remember.”

The picture depicted a group of friends, six of them, three girls and three guys. The girls were dressed modestly, in skirts down to their ankles, which seemed so impractical for the activities. They stood with their arms at the waists of three other male friends. The boys were the same age as Terry, and his father was in the centre. His dad wasn’t what he was expecting. He wasn’t a bald, tall angry man with a pot-belly. This version of his dad was too much like him. He was muscle-bound, but didn’t look as tall with his peers, he had a full head of hair styled like Terry’s in a bulky afro, and he was smiling as wide as he had ever seen his dad smile.

Terry raised an eyebrow at Nelson, not knowing how to deal with the information he had told him, “You sure that was my father?”

“Is it that hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

Nelson sighed, and took a moment to look around at the people ‘celebrating’ his old friend’s life. He took in for the first time how everyone else spoke—he was portrayed a complex, fascinating man instead of the good one he had known. He supposed a lot had changed since the seventies. “Yeah, I suppose it seems too good to be true.” Nelson pierced his lips before patting Terry softly on the shoulder. Terry flinched again. “I’m heading out. You need a ride home?”

Terry had only just met Nelson, and yet he seemed so socially unaware as to offer a teenage boy a ride home. “No, my mom’s probably gonna take us back.”

And she did, once she’d settled a few things with the funeral planners. Terry couldn’t stop thinking about his father. He couldn’t stop thinking about the similarities down to the very hairstyle. That’s when he made the choice. He had to go to this camp, and see what changed his dad. He had to see for himself that his dad was actually fun.

That picture still rattled him, which is how he ended up in the bathroom, sitting down on the bathtub staring into the mirror, a razor poised at his afro.

He carved a chunk out of it, and kept going until all he had a mass of curly hair at his feet. He looked back in the mirror to see what could only be described as a baby afro, short at the sides and on the top. When he looked in the mirror, he could only see himself, not the vision of his father haunting him. Sure, his mom freaked out when he showed him, but he felt as if he was distancing himself from that younger dad he never knew.

Especially since he was returning to see what his dad might’ve been like.

~ Rosa knew this was coming before they even said the word. This was the norm; her fourth and final trip to The Bullpen. She was sixteen now, which meant that this was her final time attending as a camper before going back as a camp councillor. She wasn’t the most liked; she kept to herself, and all the younger kids knew she carried a whittling knife everywhere she went, but she liked being in nature compared to the stuffy New York apartment her parents and sisters lived in.

It wasn’t a shock when her parents dropped the leaflet under her door and wordlessly gave her a suitcase—black with a purple skull over it.

They weren’t talking to her at the moment, and she was fine by it. She couldn’t care less (is what she told herself when she put her face into her pillow and screamed until she began to cry). It didn’t matter if they weren’t on speaking terms, anyway, because soon, she’d be gone for the holidays.

The Bullpen was the one place she got to be authentically herself, where no one cared if she went off into the woods without sunblock, where she wasn’t bothered by her sisters storming into her room to ask if she had melted down one of their possessions to make jewellery to sell in the schoolyard. The Bullpen, under the watchful eyes of the camp counsellors, was her second home, and sometimes, she liked it more than her first.

So as she looked down at the sheen of her black suitcase in the low light of her shared room, she gave a curt nod to no one in particular, and began to pack her bag, sniffing lightly as she folded her second-best jacket down into a tiny ball. She had gone through a change in style in the past couple years, from ballerina pumps and pink strappy tops to the polar opposite of black leather jackets and DIY ripped jeans. Her hair had just grown long enough for her pink streaks to be cut out, so her hair was a natural curly brunette shade. She packed everything she knew she’d need for her nine weeks away, and it only took a couple hours to pack.

None of her friends were going back this year; the others had left and gone onto bigger things, most of them were going on some massive party-filled holiday—Rosa had declined the offer, and decided to go back to camp.

Her parents still remained silent, they didn’t speak to her at all, not even when the bus came to pick her up, as it did every year.

~ Gina was talking to her friends on her phone while a video on her iPad played softly in the background. Her legs swung freely in the air as the lay flat on her stomach, her freshly painted toes sticking pointily out. She didn’t have anything planned for the summer, she just wanted to spend some time doing some serious soul-searching. By that, she meant going out just to take photos for her Instagram following with spiritual captions.

Her parents had constantly been threatening her to get off her phone, but she hadn’t taken any notice. Every month, they’d tell her the same thing, with a different punishment (no more phone, we’ll block YouTube on your iPad, we’ll send your clothes off to charity), and every month, she kept on her phone and nothing happened.

Her friends weren’t planning anything, but there was a party planned for a months’ time. It was supposed to be the best event since Gina’s party where she convinced everyone that Jay-Z would be there. She slithered her way out of that one by getting the people there drunk enough so that they wouldn’t even remember. She had her dress picked out before anything else, even now it stared at her through the crack into her walk-in closet. It was short and sequinned, sparkly, and low-cut. Her mother had reprimanded her on the choice, calling her every name under the sun purely based on the length and the fact it showed off a little bit of boob. Gina had called her pathetic, and then yelled that she was jealous.

Granted, Gina should’ve realised that she had gone too far, but she never apologised for her words, and she wasn’t going to break that oath to herself.

Her mom walked into her room, followed by her dad, whose hand was on the small of her mom’s back. She didn’t acknowledge them moving around in her room until they opened her closet.

“What are you doing?” She asked, sitting back up and pausing the video on her iPad. She didn’t like it when they went through her stuff, she’d made it clear through putting up CCTV in her own bedroom when she wasn’t there. “Get out of my closet!” She yelled, but her parents still ignored her, packing a bag of stuff.

Her father turned to face her with a soft smile, “We thought that this summer you could go somewhere fun.”

She sat back in her seat, suddenly thinking about how her parents were going to send her on some expensive lavish trip with her friends “Oooh, where? Paris, Greece…Italy?”

Gina slammed the car door at her arrived destination, dressed in a fancy tracksuit with a travel pillow slung over her neck, ready for a first class flight to wherever, and looked around at the sights before her. It smelt like pine needles and damp river air. As the car she had arrived in drew away, her hope of being rescued was gone. Her parents had taken her phone before kicking her out, leaving her stranded in this grassy, humid spot.

To her right, there was a big yellow house, looking like something out of a Victorian utopian novel, with a large red roof and grand double oak doors. There was no road, instead there was a dusty mud path towards the main house, with grassy meadow verges all the way to the brick steps towards the opening of the house. They had roses and daisies along the open windowpanes, ivy also climbing up around towards the top of the house.

The road stemmed off like the branches of a leaf, to different areas and houses, swooping tall trees towering above the beaten track. Gina took notice of all the kids, mostly younger than her, some around the same age, who were wearing different coloured t-shirts: duller reds, bright oranges, grassy coloured greens, and duller royal navy blues. They all had different names in block letters, and Gina shuddered inwardly. Great, she thought, they’d shipped her off to a knock-off American Hogwarts.

~ Amy was sat on the bus, having been collected half an hour ago, and the first thing she’d realised was how unconventional this maths camp was. She had taken the only free seat in between a girl dressed in a jet black leather jacket who was carving something onto the side of the bus, and another girl, quieter, who seemed more like someone who would take this type of camp trip. She had big rounded spectacles and had woven her hair in plaits, chewing on the right one as if it were an instinct.

Amy nudged the girl excitedly “So, what do you think it’s gonna be like?”

The girl looked back at Amy with a raised eyebrow, as if she had just said something preposterous. She was only asking because this was the first annual maths camp, and she wasn’t entirely sure what the curriculum was going to be. “I’ve been there before, it’s fun, as long as you can swim”

“What?” Amy shook her head as the girl gazed out of the window, ending the conversation, “you’ve been here before?” She asked. The girl exhaustedly tilted her head back to face Amy.

“The camp has been open since the seventies, how have you not?”

Amy started to sweat “Seventies...this is the first camp opening!” She began to dig through her stuff, producing her leaflet that she had given to her dad for him to book. It showed crystal white buildings with a modern square between the buildings, the words ‘Bulletin Maths Camp’ written with a fancy cursive font. The leather jacket girl let out a loud guffaw, making Amy swivel around “What?”

“Dude, you’re on the wrong bus. This goes to The Bullpen Summer Camp.” She unzipped her jacket further so that Amy could see her dull orange shirt with a small logo that confirmed the name of the camp she’d been sent to. Amy began to hyperventilate, clutching the bus seat she was sitting on in pure fear. “Hey, you’re, uh, you’re kinda freaking out right now. It’s not that bad, your folks probably just got the name wrong. This camp normally comes up on any search first, just chill. You’ll have a good time, only a few of us carry knives.” Amy’s eyes widened, and she almost unbuckled herself so she could jump out the window. The leather-jacket-knife-wielding-maniac laughed again, before thumping Amy on the shoulder. “I’m joking. Again. It’s only me who does that, everyone else here are wimps.”

“I have to go back home. I can’t be here.”

“You signed up to the camp, you’re staying. Unless you want to break some rules and get sent home in Kevin’s tiny car.”

Amy’s heart stopped at the mere thought of breaking rules “Who’s Kevin?”

“He’s one of the camp counsellors.”

“Okay,” Amy sighed, hoping that this Kevin may understand and recognise that a mistake had been made and allow her to make her way home. She hadn’t brought her phone so that she could focus purely on the maths, but now, she wanted her phone more than ever. “Do you think I could stay with you for a bit just before I go home?”

The girl, whose curly hair Amy recognised as being almost exactly like the kind she wanted when she was little, smirked again, going back to carving her name into the side of the bus “Don’t worry, I got your back. Until you get housed, and then you’ll be your houses problem.”

Amy raised her eyebrow “Houses?”

“Yeah. There are a few.” That was the end of her sentence, and Amy didn’t want to push her. She did want to know her name, though.

“Amy. My name is Amy.” She said, extending a shaky hand for the girl to shake. Leather jacket girl glanced at her hand, not making any effort to shake it as she flicked her pocketknife up, twirling it and sticking it back in her pocket. She only nodded, so Amy put her hand back down “Rosa.”

Amy knew their conversation was coming to an end, so instead of probing Rosa for more information on their mysterious destination, she stayed silent, overhearing a conversation from a few bus seats away. There were two other boys, one by the window staring out, and another with curly brown hair that was poking up from the seats.

The window seat boy sighed, and Amy decided to look out the same window as Rosa.

Jake was about to lose his mind. This whimpering kid next to him had started in conversation with him as soon as he sat down. He luckily didn’t linger long on the yellowish bruise Jake had over his eye, instead comparing it to some girl named Eleanor, which had begun his large rant about her soft hair and gorgeous blue eyes. He knew more about this girl than he did his father.

“Oh, and she always did this adorable thing when she ate, she used to make this tiny smack with her lips…did I tell you how they’re-”

“-Soft and warm like kissing the sun, yeah, I remember that disturbing detail. Look, you’re gonna have to stop before I jump outta here myself.” Charles looked offended by that, before quickly forgiving the stranger before resuming his original upset persona, staring out the window in a sulk. A larger boy stood up from behind him with a stern gaze. He was taller than Jake and wore a grey hoodie with the hood up. He looked as if he had been sleeping, and Jake sunk back into his seat. He looked like how his dad did once he was woken up.

“Hey, he’s going through something. Try some compassion.”

Jake tried his best to back down, but he never learnt his lesson. Instead, he stood up, facing the taller boy “You try sitting next to him for an hour listening to his ex-girlfriends lips.”

The other boy went to place a hand on his shoulder, but Jake flinched away, immediately going into fight-or-flight mode, hitting his hand away. The taller boy scowled “Hey, don’t hit me, man, I’ll hit back”. To prove his point, he shoved Jake lightly. Jake slapped his hand more, going to swing at the boy. Luckily, he was flung back in his seat, tumbling over so he was facing the back of the bus. The bus had stopped, and they had arrived at their destination.

Jake was still staring at the back of the bus. He had made eye contact with a girl, around his age, who looked just as unhappy to be there as he was. She was staring at him, of course, she was, he had just began to start a fight on his first hour of being at this dumb camp. She had long black hair that waved at the bottom, with brown eyes and tan skin. He stared straight at her, and she stared back. He broke eye contact and sat back down, watching the beginning of the bus get off and look around the site.

He collected his bag, spotting the girl he’d seen taking her suitcase from near his. Jake shuffled towards her, smiling in his half-quirk smile. She spotted him before looking back down to her suitcase, looking around for someone. “Hey, I’m Jake.” He said, and the girl was about to respond before the other girl came and found her.

“and she doesn’t care. Bye.” She said, so Jake walked away. His best bet was to find the crying kid (Charles, his name was. He’d remember that and be kind to him) and stick by his side to avoid being totally alone through this stupid camp experience.

He found the kid, still moping around the place, and patted him on the shoulder “Hey. I’m sorry for snapping at you, I just really don’t wanna be here.” He admitted, and the boy looked up to him, and then to where his hand rested on his shoulder.

“That’s okay. I’m here because Eleanor broke up with me because I don’t take impulse risks. I think this will make her take me back and make me look more masculine than I actually am.” Charles unloaded onto Jake, whose mouth suddenly dropped, speechless. He’d never met someone so open before.

“Oh…well, I’m Jake, by the way.”

“Charles.” He raised his hand up in a short wave, and Jake was about to continue his conversation when a man walked up to the bus, looking around at everyone, new and old. He was average height, with a bald head and a neutral face.

“Attention Campers!” His voice boomed, and everyone shushed. Jake rolled his eyes, sighing, “Welcome to The Bullpen! I am Raymond, you can call me Ray. I am the head counsellor here; I overlook everything you do. I decide who is sent home for bad behaviour, and who gets extra privileges. At the Bullpen, we have different houses, you don’t get to choose your roommates, that’s down to us.”

Jake whispered to Charles “He sounds like a drill Sargent.”

Ray continued “Every house has a separate counsellor, there are 6 kids to a bunk and 49 of you with us this year. This means one group of you will be sleeping in the bigger room we have here. We normally house 50 kids here, and we have 8 houses. I will now pass over to Kevin who will explain.”

Kevin stepped forward; he had a beard and wore the same kind of outfits as Ray; everyday wear suits which didn’t seem to fit the vibe of this camp at all, but nevertheless, Kevin seemed a bit easier to read than Ray was. “Afternoon,” He greeted “As Ray was saying, there are 8 houses, these people will be your team for any activities, they will be your family. The houses all have different shirt colours, they have already been picked out for you and paid for by your parents or guardians. People who have been here before will stay in the same team, the teams are sorted by age.”

Charles’ hand had made his way to Jakes shoulder, and Jake found himself trying not to flinch or tell him to stop. Charles had already admitted on the bus that he found touch comforting, and if this was what it took to make friends here, he would have to allow him. “Looks like we’ll probably be put together, then.”

“Here’s hoping.”

“The team names are up to you to decide, they have to be appropriate, of course, but the colours are what you will go by for now until you have decided. The colours are as follows: Red, Pink, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Purple and White. I’ll pass you over to Norm, who will call out your names. When you hear your name, step forward and find your group.” He instructed, as another man, slightly larger with a Frankenstein haircut.

Norm smiled and waved as he read names from a clipboard “King, Warren, Reid, Flowers, Bright and Prentiss, you’re Red Team. Take your shirts, and your counsellor Jason will take you to Rose House. Okay, Orange Team, Peralta, Santiago, Boyle, Diaz, Jeffords and Linetti, take your shirts and your counsellor Ray will take you to Sandy House.”

The list continued as Jake stared at the people who were standing out from the crowd—the wide-eyed girl, her friend in the leather jacket, the boy who he’d tried to fight on the bus, Charles the emotional risk-taking non-risk-taker, and a new girl, who hadn’t been on the bus with them, dressed in fancy clothes and looking more miserable than he did.

These were the people he was supposed to be getting along with and spending most of his time with for the next nine weeks? Oh boy, was he in for it.

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#brooklyn nine nine #peraltiago #peraltiago fanfiction #peraltiago fanfic #jake x amy #ray holt #jake peralta #amy santiago #rosa diaz #charles boyle #b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #b99 fanfic

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emichelle · 4 years

Text

Time

Colt x MC (Ellie)

Warnings: Language, NS*W, Over 18

Inspired by this song

To say Colt was stressed would be the understatement of the century. It had only been six months since his father gave his life to save Colt's. He and Ellie had been on the move almost as long, this being the second apartment they had shared in the second different state. He was still working his way through the brotherhood, Shaw being taken care of in prison, he had found Wallace in North Dakota and taken him out, now all that was left was Hester and whatever low life cronies she had still hanging around.

Ellie had been forced to do online college, she refused to leave Colt to this by himself. She wouldn't tell him, but she was too afraid he'd forget about her and just never come back. She had fallen in love with Colt Kaneko, the softer side of Colt only she got to see, although it had been some time since that Colt had shown his face. They were fighting a lot, she wasn't happy and she worried he didn't care. She had told him she loved him, was in love with him, wanted this with him so many times she'd lost count. Colt refused. He wouldn't acknowledge any type of feelings.

"I just want to go to dinner Colt, please. Just one dinner? We haven't been out since we left California, we're in Arizona, surely we're safe enough to go grab a bite to eat? I just want to feel normal for a little while." She was pleading, her heart physically hurting from trying to convince him. Convince him of dinner, of loving her, of showing any kind of emotion besides anger, she didn't like this Colt. She knew he didn't like this Colt either, how could he? She had seen his true nature, this was fight or flight Colt.

Running his fingers roughly through his hair he let out a loud sigh, "I told you no? What part of that is so fucking hard to understand?" She blanched at the tone in his voice and he regretted it but the word vomit wouldn't stop. "If you didn't want this life you should've went to your precious Langston and fucking forgot this bad boy fantasy, you wanted the bad boy but now that you've got him it doesn't seem so poetic does it El?" He spat, getting louder and pressing his chest to hers, looking down at her.

He could see the tears pooling in her eyes, lip trembling as she tried to hold it together. But he couldn't stop. She reached her hand up to touch his cheek, a sign of affection and love and to anchor her before she fell. He grabbed her wrist tightly, eyes like steel before he released her when he saw the first tear fall.

"I just want to f-feel like... y-you don't hate me Colt...that's all. You don't have to l-love me, but why do y-you hate me?" She stammered out between her tears and shaking sobs, blue eyes locked on his brown. He could see how much she was hurting, but he was hurting too. Didn't she know that? How could she expect him to love her when he fucking hated himself.

"Maybe I should hate you Ellie. It'd sure as hell make it easier on everybody." He held eye contact with her until she let out a shuddering sob, turning to run into their bedroom, slamming the door behind her. He could hear her crying, it only served to fuel his anger. At himself, at his dad, at the brotherhood...they were the reason he was in this mess, why they were in this mess.

Pounding on the door he shouted "I'm gone El, I'm leaving. You can go to dinner by yourself if you want to be normal so bad."

"I fucking hate you!" She screamed through tears, running hot down her face as she burrowed back into the pillows. Shaking from her sobs, she had never felt so worthless. They had fought, boy had they fought, but this felt different. She didn't hate him, not at all, but she hated the way he was acting lately.

His heart skipped a beat, face falling for a moment as he stared at the door. She couldn't hate him, could she? She was the only one he wanted to love him...his face grew tense with anger. Storming out the front door and slamming it behind him hard enough he wished he would've broke the fucking hinges. Stomping to the elevator and riding it to the bottom floor, pushing out into the city to clear his head.

He wandered to a bar, ordering 6 shots of tequila to take the edge off of this shitty night. A petite blonde wandered over, long hair pulled over one shoulder and pouty lips, brown eyes below her lashes that she was batting at him. "Hi stranger, order a pretty girl a drink?" She ran a finger along the length of his arm and he felt...nothing.

"Do you have a problem buddy? That's my girl you're sizing up!" A brawny man who stood maybe 5'11 on a good day, walked up behind the blonde, throwing his arm around her shoulders.

"She walked up to me buddy, maybe you should take it up with her." Colt rolled his eyes, taking another shot and ignoring the glare the man was giving him.

The man shoved Colt from behind, making him spill his last shot on his leather jacket. Standing abruptly he reared back and punched the man square in the teeth, watching as he recoiled and spat blood, the girl staring wide eyed at the display.

"Out! GET OUT! No fighting in this bar!" The bartender came waving his hands at them, "Get out of my bar before I call the cops!"

Dropping some money on the bar Colt headed back out, turning down a side alley and sitting down on a stoop out back of a store. Placing his elbows on his knees he leaned forward and rested his head in his palms.

Have I gone too far? No, not far enough. I want them all dead. But at what cost? Do I love Ellie? She's been there for me through everything since I've been back, she confided in me her secrets, she gave me the gift of her...all of her...she trusted me...what have I done.

He ran out of the alley, hailing a cab to get back to the apartment quicker. Pulling up in front of the building he shoved some money through the slot in the taxi divider and ran inside. Once he made it to their apartment he stopped, staring at the door and hearing in his mind the conversation that had taken place before he stormed off like a coward.

Turning the key in the lock he walked in, gently closing it behind him and walking in, looking around for any sign of Ellie. The bedroom door was still closed, he hoped she was still in there and she hadn't packed up and left. Trying the handle he found it was still locked, reaching up he grabbed the key on the door frame before opening the door and seeing her laying on the bed.

Her tear stained face, cheeks red and eyes puffy, she still looked like an angel. Why the fuck did I say that shit to her? Look at her, she fucking loves me and I tried to break her. What is wrong with me?

He walked around to the opposite side of the bed, sitting with his back pressed against the pillows and legs laid out in front of him. She stirred slightly feeling the bed dip, but he reached out to pull her to him and her eyes snapped open. What he saw in them broke his heart. Fear. She's afraid of me. What a fucking monster, I've become just like him. A tear broke free from his eye and her eyes softened on him, turning so she could wipe the tears from his face. He looked between her eyes for a moment before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest.

She wrapped her arms around him, placing her head over his heart and listening to the beat. She rubbed soothing circles with her thumbs over his side and nuzzled in closer to him. "Colt, I'm so-" he lifted her face up pressing a kiss to her lips before she could finish.

"No El, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I didn't mean any of that shit I said to you, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You're the only thing that keeps me sane in this hell bent quest I'm on. You're my entire world Ellie and I'm so sorry I didn't have the balls to tell you." He tilted her chin up, brown eyes meeting blue, "Ellie, I love you. I am so fucking in love with you it hurts." He watched as the tears pooled in her eyes and she lunged forward connecting their lips in a passionate kiss.

He laid her back on the bed, kissing down her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder, she leaned forward so he could pull her shirt over her head before discarding his own. He kissed one nipple, roving over it with his tongue, placing a soft kiss to the hardened nub before giving the other the same attention. He sat back on his haunches, pulling her shorts and underwear down at the same time, looking lovingly over her body.

"You're so beautiful El, so beautiful baby." He kissed her hip bone, sucking a little mark there for their eyes only. Gently spreading her legs and licking a slow stripe between her folds, kissing her bundle of nerves before sucking it between his lips. He loved the way she writhed beneath him, she had always been so expressive and it was such a turn on. Moaning and running her fingers through his hair, arching her back to get the perfect angle before he added two fingers to her dripping slit. Pumping them slowly and crooking them just the way only he knew she liked. She was quickly falling apart for him, moaning and panting his name like she needed it to breathe.

She pulled on his hair and he obliged, rising to kiss her and let her taste herself on his tongue. "I love you too Colt." She smiled warmly at him, reaching down to undo the button on his jeans. Tucking her toes into the waistband and pushing them and his boxers down. He laughed, he loved it when she did dorky shit like that. She was the most precious girl he had ever met and he was damn sure not going to let her doubt that ever again. She cupped his cheek in her hand, wrapping her legs around his waist as he turned his head to kiss the inside of her palm.

"Always, Ellie." He kissed her gently as he entered her, pausing only a moment for her to adjust before he started thrusting gently. Keeping a steady pace, pulling out to the tip before driving back into her. She rolled her hips to match his pace, moaning into his neck as she marked him for the world to see.

"Colt, baby I'm close" she panted, arching her back to get the friction she desired.

"Look at me El, let me see those blues." She locked eyes with him as she came undone for the second time. Mouth falling open to form the perfect "O" before biting her bottom lip as she writhed beneath him. A few more pumps was all it took for him to follow right behind her, filling her with his milky seed and kissing her lovingly.

He rolled to lay beside her, pulling her into his side and running his hand up and down the small of her back. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner Ellie. I was a coward and an asshole, you deserve so much better than what I've given you."

She placed her hand on his cheek, turning his head to look at her as she spoke. "I don't want so much better, I just want the Colt I know and love. You're all I want Colt." She smiled, pressing her lips to his before curling into his side again.

Colt pulled the blanket up over them and laid there peacefully, smilingly at the ceiling.

Thanks pop. For giving me time.

@leelee10898 @lovehugsandcandy @brightpinkpeppercorn @client-327 @desiree-0816 @choiceswreckedme @lovemychoices @dawn-1994 @queenkaneko @omgjasminesimone @emceesynonymroll

#choices rod #colt x mc #emichelle #ns*w

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lady-divine-writes · 5 years

Text

Klaine fic - “Need for Speed: New York - Chapter 1” (Rated NC17)

Summary:

It's been years since high school graduation, and Kurt and Blaine are living the lives of their dreams in New York City alongside their best friends, Nick and Jeff. Car racing behind them, they're working towards the future - Kurt and Jeff at NYADA, Blaine and Nick at NYU. But soon after moving from their tiny apartments to a bigger loft, bits and pieces of Ohio start to weed their way in to their lives - along with some New York grown angst, causing rifts that hopping behind the wheel of a Mustang might not be able to solve.

Read on AO3.

“One grande nonfat mocha …”

“That’s me!” Kurt called, reaching over the heads in front of him and grabbing his coffee.

“… and a tall black, one cream one sugar, with a blueberry muffin.”

“That one’s mine.” Nick wrenched his arm through the crowd to snag his cup from the barista, along with the small brown paper bag that had his muffin nestled inside. "Ugh! I wish we could find a bigger place!" he complained. His remark received glares from a handful of people who had no investment in what he was saying, but felt offended by his tone of voice. He followed Kurt to an empty table in the corner by the window where they could watch the rain pound the pavement, cleaning away the grime from the glass.

“Unfortunately, most of the coffee shops on this side of town are about this size,” Kurt commented, setting his cup down and grabbing an extra chair from a nearby table. “I know it’s crowded, but I think we’re out of luck.”

“I’m not talking about the coffee shop, Kurt!” Nick groaned, putting down his suitcase and landing heavily in his seat. “I’m talking about our apartment! It’s tiny! If we had a bigger place, then Jeff could dance at home. We need more space to move around."

"More room to move?" Kurt opened the lid to his coffee and took a deep breath in, sighing in contentment at the sweet scent of chocolate mixed with the strong jolt of Arabica he needed to fuel his day. "So what you’re saying is you guys ran out of places to have sex, right?"

Nick threw Kurt a pointed look, glancing nervously around to see if anyone took notice.

"No. I mean we're spending all of our spare time at the dance studio at NYADA. It would be nice to live somewhere with enough floor space where Jeff could practice at home so we’re not riding the subway back and forth at one in the morning.”

“An apartment with that much space would cost a small fortune. Trust me. The idea has crossed my mind many, MANY times.”

“Really?” Nick opened the crinkled top to his brown paper bag, shoved his nose inside, and took a sniff that caved the sides in.

“Yeah. Your place is tiny and you have a corner unit. We don’t. Ours is microscopic compared to yours.” Kurt opened a browser on his phone and pulled up the classifieds. Space wasn’t the only issue for Kurt. After last summer’s temperatures hit triple digits and stayed there, Kurt had declared himself done with their apartment. But when several exhaustive searches turned up nothing they could afford, he’d come to the conclusion that finding a new place within their budgets close enough to school to make the commute worthwhile might be a pipe dream.

“I have to admit that it's nice though, hanging out at NYADA after hours. It's quiet, it’s air conditioned in the summer, and George the janitor has been helping me with my homework."

Kurt snapped his head up. "Your law homework?"

"Yeah. He majored in criminal law. At one time, he was one of the foremost attorneys in the country! Six figure salary! But he gave it up to be a janitor.”

Kurt raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Nick shook his head. “I Googled him. He’s legit.”

“But why in the world would he do that? Give up a career and all that money to plunge toilets and mop floors?””

“Because he wasn’t happy. He didn’t want a career in law. His dad wanted him to. He wanted to work in theater, but he said he wasn’t any good. Had two left feet and couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket – his words. Working at NYADA was the compromise. He says it's like going to the Met every day for free, so the decision was easy."

Kurt laughed and went back to the ads. “Only in New York.”

“I guess.” Nick stared out the window, focused on the people running back and forth trying to avoid the rain. There were a handful of commuters in dark coats and rain boots speed walking from bus stop to bus stop to subway terminal. But mixed among them were the tourists meandering slowly on their way to wherever, huge smiles on their faces as if getting caught in a New York rainstorm was exactly what they had hoped for. He spotted one couple coming off a bus hand-in-hand, beaming at one another, obviously in love.

Probably honeymooners, he thought, adverting his eyes when they stopped at the curb and started to kiss.

New York was for lovers. It was written everywhere. It was one of the reasons why he fell in love with the city the moment he got there. He and Jeff were so much in love, it hurt. This was definitely where they were meant to be.

Or so he thought …

“Hey. Hey, Nick.” Kurt’s concerned voice and the touch of his hand pulled Nick’s eyes from the window. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been in such a funk lately.”

“I … I don't know.” Nick looked down into his cooling cup of coffee, avoiding Kurt’s eyes. His fears and doubts were stupid. He knew they were. But if he saw Kurt looking at him with worry, he’d unload everything. And there were things going on in his head he wasn’t prepared to admit to right now.

Though, if reassurance was something he felt he needed (and it was) there was no better source for that than Kurt, if for no other reason than he and Jeff went to school together.

If there was something Nick didn’t know, Kurt would.

“I just think maybe Jeff's getting a little tired of having me hang around all the time, you know? At school?”

Kurt’s worried eyes widened with confusion.

“I mean,” Nick tried to clarify, “that’s kind of his world, and maybe I shouldn’t interfere?”

Kurt’s eyes became wider until they took up a good portion of his face, and Nick backpedaled.

“I don’t know. Forget that. What I mean is, it would be nice to just ... stay in."

"Why in the world do you think Jeff's getting tired of you!?” Kurt barked, attracting the attention from diners at nearby tables that Nick was trying so hard to avoid. “From what we hear through the walls, you guys don't ever get tired!"

Nick’s cheeks turned the color of a brand spanking new fire truck, polish and all. “Kurt!”

"And," Kurt continued, "do you know how embarrassing it is to walk to school every day with Jeff and his incredible hard-on!? Seriously, Nick! It's like every morning!"

“Kurt!!”

“I’m not kidding! At this rate, you’re going to have to buy that thing its own MetroCard!”

"Alright, alright! I get the picture! But, you know, if we’re talking about erections, going to school with your boyfriend isn't much better!" Nick argued, leaning across the table and whisper-scolding through clenched teeth, praying he could stop the current discussion before they gathered an actual crowd. “If you guys aren’t going to stop with the early morning shower bjs, then you may want to consider asking Blaine to change the cut of his jeans … or start wearing slacks. WITH underwear!”

That worked.

"Touche.” Kurt returned to the listings on his phone, scrolling past ads he’d read so many times, he had them memorized. There wasn’t going to be anything new, he told himself. Not since last week. Blaine had offered to up his contribution on his portion of the housing costs so they could widen their search parameters, but Kurt refused. He didn’t want Blaine carrying the financial weight, regardless of how large his trust fund was, or how much profit he made off selling his house. Besides, Kurt had to be realistic. Considering what the job market was like in the arts, it would be nice to have a hefty nest egg to rely on.

Kurt bit his lip at his own line of thinking - talking about their finances as if they were an old married couple.

As if that nest egg was theirs and not just Blaine’s.

Kurt tried not to think of it as theirs, but it got hard when Blaine constantly referred to it like that.

Their savings.

Their money.

Put aside for their life. Their future.

Kurt was a hopeless romantic. Had been all his life. He loved Blaine heart and soul, saw them spending the rest of their lives together. But he wasn’t naïve. Unfortunately, things do happen. He didn’t think they would happen to them. They were such a clear-headed and balanced couple. But they could. So Kurt started a nest egg of his own, and contributed to their savings as much as he could. He still flipped cars from time to time. He’d made quite a name for himself in Ohio, so when he went back to visit, he had a list of people willing to wait months for him to get their ride up on a lift and give it an overhaul. Plus, he had customers who were loyal to him, who drove up to New York just for an hour of his time. On a good weekend, he could come home from a trip to see his dad with a cool ten grand in his pocket.

Not too shabby for a side gig … a legal one.

He’d almost convinced himself to open up a shop in New York, but even with the high demand, the price of rent and the time commitment didn’t outweigh the potential profits.

Besides, he didn’t want to be known as an auto tuner.

He wanted to be a Broadway star.

But he didn’t hang up his coveralls completely. It was good to have something to fall back on. And with high performance race cars always in demand, he could have a steady source of income. Though, for the price of some of these shoebox apartments, it might be cheaper, and more lucrative, to open up a shop and live above it because damn! How the hell did college kids move to New York and survive without humongous trust funds?

He had no idea. Television definitely didn’t prepare him for this.

He was about to exit out of the browser and pull up the Variety! website when he stumbled on an ad tucked at the bitter end that looked interesting. The picture had originally turned him off. He thought it was another bodega for rent. But after a third read, he felt the slow burn of excitement flutter like butterflies all over his entire body.

"Nick, when are you due back at the office?"

"In about …" Nick looked at his own phone clock and sighed the sigh of a man about to surrender himself to a long afternoon of dull research, even duller coffee runs, and chalking it up to experience “… thirty minutes. Then I’m off at four. Why?”

Kurt shared the listing to Nick’s phone, then clicked the hyperlink to dial the realtor’s number.

"What are your feelings about Bushwick?"

“I don’t think I have any.” Nick opened the listing Kurt sent him and read through it. His eyes went wide, a smile spreading his lips despite the promise of a painstaking afternoon. “But I’m beginning to have some.”

***

“Bushwick? What the hell’s in Bushwick?” Blaine laughed, undoing the buttons on Kurt’s jacket and snaking his hand inside. He needed this closeness, needed to feel his boyfriend after a long day without him.

He was also freezing his ass off and hoping he could leech some of Kurt’s never-ending warmth so he could feel his fingers again.

Kurt shifted in his seat, moving closer and putting a hand over Blaine’s to help keep him toasty. He wasn’t a big fan of P.D.A. on the subway, but it was so crowded at this hour, no one was paying any attention.

“A big ass loft, that’s what,” Kurt said, thrusting his phone into Blaine’s view. “Big enough for you, me, our friends, our stuff, your ego …”

“Nonsense. Nothing’s that big.” Blaine took the phone, the screen loaded to a slideshow of pictures showing every inch of the loft in question, plus a floor plan and a list of amenities. Kurt and Nick had taken the liberty of submitting a pre-qualification application, and with help from Nick’s legal and financial expertise, they’d been provisionally approved. All they needed was to tour the place with their boyfriends and get the final okay from the realtor.

But as far as Kurt and Nick were concerned, they were in love.

“That definitely looks big enough for all our stuff. Hell, I could probably park my Mustang in there and we’d never bump into it! But why do we need to move to a new place?” Blaine had no objections to moving. He agreed they needed more space, and yesterday. But he enjoyed giving his excited boyfriend a hard time.

It was like foreplay to him.

“Well, aside from the things I’ve already mentioned - more space, less per month in rent, our own washer and dryer, living with our best friends in the world - I have two words for you: air conditioning.”

“What? You don’t like sleeping in the kitchen on hot summer nights with every window in the place open?”

“No.”

“Not gonna miss that one little bit?”

“Not a bit.”

“Too bad, because that is literally my favorite thing about living in the apartment we have now.”

“And yet, I still manage to love you.”

“Go figure. Have Nick and Jeff seen it yet?”

“They’re supposed to meet us.” Kurt scrolled through the text conversation he’d been having with Nick since Nick left his internship to pick up his boyfriend. “The last I heard from him is that he and Jeff had met up and they were heading out.”

“Give or take five minutes in the coat closet for a little hanky panky,” Blaine joked. “Or should I say an hour? If they find a place with a lock on the door, we might not seem them till midnight!”

Kurt wanted to rebut in defense of his friends, but Blaine was probably right. If there was a couple in this city that had more sex than Kurt and Blaine, it was Nick and Jeff.

Kurt knew because he heard most of it first-hand.

***

“I thought you guys said this was a loft?” Jeff wandered through the kitchen, opening cabinet doors and peeking inside, looking for what, no one knew. “When does a loft have bedrooms?”

“According to the website, it’s a conversion,” Kurt replied.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning they had to knock down the wall between a loft and a two bedroom apartment, and since it was too complicated to replace, they just left it. Something about the plumbing. They gutted the extra kitchen, renovated the bathroom and …”

“And created this enormous airplane hangar of an apartment,” Blaine finished.

“A-ha. And it’s two hundred dollars less a month than both our old apartments combined,” Nick said.

“That’s because we’ll be living in Brooklyn instead of Manhattan,” Jeff pointed out.

“But our rent is coming up in a week,” Blaine mentioned, circling the place for a second time. At this rate, they won’t need gym memberships. Then could just jog around their apartment. “I don’t want us all paying double. If we say yes to this place, when would we be able to move in?”

“Like, now,” Nick said. “We’ve been talking to the realtor all afternoon. She has the keys and she’s bringing them down.”

“I thought you guys said our approval was provisional,” Jeff said.

“It took us close to five days to get the keys to our last place. Why are they so eager to rent this place?” Blaine asked.

“Technically, this is a historic building. The owners are filing to make it official, but in the meantime, there’s a developer trying to buy it out and turn it into an IHOP or something. They need to have all the apartments filled by the end of the month to make their case that it’s still viable as a living space while they wait on certification. They’ve apparently had tons of nibbles, but no follow throughs.”

“And they’re desperate. They’re trying to fight off gentrification.”

“And they’re going to do that by renting the biggest space I’ve ever seen at a steal to four white gay guys?” Jeff asked.

“Hey, I don’t make the rules,” Kurt said, throwing open the drapes to let the afternoon sunlight in. “I’m just willing to benefit from them … uh … just this once, of course.”

“Look at all the room you’ll have to dance now, Jeff.”

“Yeah,” Jeff said, taking a few experimental steps, running the soles of his shoes against the floor one at a time to check the grip of the wood grain. “It’s great, but is this really what you want, Nicky?”

“Yes. I mean, you’ll be able to practice at home now. No more late night trips back and forth from NYADA.”

“Oh, I don’t know …” Jeff wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and squeezed, lifting him an inch till their noses touched “... I was starting to enjoy those late night trips. All that alone time together, late nights on the train, catching dinner on the corner … it was kind of romantic.”

“But if you practice at home and we don’t have to spend time on the train, we’ll have more time to do other things late at night.”

Jeff frowned, his brow pinched together as he tried to decipher the meaning behind his boyfriend’s cryptic words.

“Other romantic things?”

Jeff’s brow pinched further, and Nick raised his eyebrows in an attempt to help him. They stood like that, staring at one another, deadlocked and waiting for Jeff to figure it out, until Kurt lost his patience.

“Sex! He means sex, Jeff! If you don’t have to travel to NYADA every night, you get to have more sex! Though how that’s possible, I have absolutely no damn idea!”

Across the room, Blaine laughed so hard, he stopped breathing.

“Oh!” Jeff smiled like the bear that stole the honey and got away without getting stung. “Okay. I’m sold.”

“Great!” Kurt grabbed his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. “Oh, that’s the realtor. She’s on her way up. This is so exciting! I can’t wait to start packing up our stuff and moving it in!”

“Hey, would you guys mind if Nicky and I stayed the night?” Jeff asked. “So we can celebrate early?”

“Celebrate?” Kurt shot Blaine a look, but it was no use, as the man had his head in his hands, laughing up a storm. “But there’s no electricity! And you guys won’t have a bed!”

“Kurt - that is the weirdest thing you have ever said to us.”

“Whatever.” Kurt pushed open the sliding door. “Just do us a favor and don’t baptize our room before we get the chance.”

Jeff clapped a hand over his boyfriend’s ass, causing him to yelp. Jeff smirked. “We’ll do our best.”

#klaine #klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #frankie writes

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potionsmasters · 5 years

Note

Maya daddy please share your favourite fics (doesn't have to be just Snarry). You shared that Spirk fic long ago and I want more

Ohh baby you’re in for it now ;)

Severus Snape/Harry Potter (Harry Potter)

This Time of Ours by emynn (complete; 35k+)Severus Snape wasn’t supposed to die. Neither was Harry Potter.

Snape: The Home Fries Nazi by pir8fancier (complete; 27k+)When Harry defeats Voldemort, all those marked by Voldemort lose their magic. Snape decamps to the United States, where he becomes a fry cook in a diner. Five years after Voldemort’s defeat, Harry comes to him for advice.

Rapture by mia_ugly (complete; 48k+)Snape sees the man, for the first time, on his twenty-fifth birthday.

A Nick in Time + the sequel Growing Pains by tiranog (complete; 52k+ & 120k+)After a strange dream on Christmas night, Harry Potter awakes to find his world strangely altered.

Painted in the Worst Light by asecretchord (complete; 98k+)Severus survived Nagini’s bite and is now on trial before the Wizengamot. Due to a weird loophole in the law books, he has the right to choose any Ministry employee to defend him, and he chooses Auror-trainee, Harry Potter.

Hints From Severus by cruisedirector, Dementordelta (complete; 27k+)When Rita Skeeter seeks Snape’s help with a household advice column, Snape reads a letter from a correspondent with a familiar problem.

Unregistered by htdcd (complete; 72k+)Harry gets a unique opportunity to get to know Severus Snape. Who knew Snape would turn out to be a cat person?

The Courtship of Harry Potter by dkwilliams (complete; 27k+) Another teacher’s interest in Harry Potter forces a reluctant Snape to compete for the young man affections.

—–

Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester*** (Supernatural) ( i can’t believe i wrote Dead Winchester in the original post what a fkin typo amiright)

Courting Death by theproblematique (complete; 50k+)Sam Winchester lived the first six months of his life in a happy family; the next twelve years as John Winchester’s only son, and the last decade as an orphan. He’s supposed to die at twenty-two trying to save the woman he loves from a fire, because he doesn’t have a brother to pull him back. But the night Sam meets his Reaper he discovers that Death is overly fond of pop-culture references, too beautiful to be real, and reluctant to kill him.(I love this fic more than words can describe tbh)

The Truth in the Lie by flawedamythyst (complete; 62k+)Sam and Dean pretend to be gay lovers while they hunt a monster on a bus tour of Nova Scotia. (I love a good fake dating fic like hell yea bruh)

Fumbling in the Dark: Love Advice For the Romantically Impaired by leonidaslion (complete; 72k+)True Love really is blind…

—–

Harvey Specter/Mike Ross (Suits)

Not the Worst Step-Dad in the History of Everything by Pookaseraph (complete; 15k+)When the son he never knew he had is deposited on his doorstep by Child Protective Services, Harvey does the kindest thing he knows how to do: put Mike Ross on the case. Mike responds by doing what he does best: get emotionally attached to the client.

Wear My Name by LunarFlare14 (complete; 55k+)Harvey has always put on a good show at work. He has put a lot of effort into the smoke and mirrors act, and it had worked to his advantage- until now. Backed into a corner by a law he can’t side-step, he decides Mike is his only way out. They’re getting married, and Mike really has no say in it. (Based off “The Proposal” which is one of my fave romcoms)

—–

Sebastian Michaelis/Ciel Phantomhive (Kuroshitsuji)

Under These City Streets by DisgruntledMinion (complete; 90k+)The city held many secrets: hidden pathways that led to a hole in the wall restaurant boasting the best pizza in town or that the dinky looking building off Hickory Ave. was an upscale club. That creatures of the night existed among humans was not one of them. Ciel only wished he remembered that those same beings kept secrets of their own.(hands down the best vampire!AU I’ve ever read. I’m not kidding)

Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier (X-Men)

The House Spouse by Butterynutjob (complete; 78k+)Erik Lehnsherr is an out-and-proud gay author, columnist, and television personality (a la Dan Savage). Charles Xavier is a straight widower with two children who hosts a radio show dispensing (somewhat conservative) advice about sex and love to teenagers (a la Drew Pinsky). Their mutual attraction is undeniable, and yet, frustratingly, Charles still denies it. Erik figures with the right opportunity, Charles will act on his feelings, and when the opportunity to ‘bid’ on Charles to be his ‘spouse’ for the week comes up, Erik wins the auction.

—–

Hank Anderson/Connor (Detroit:Become Human)

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This by MorganOfTheFey (complete; 66k+)Connor has a three year seduction plan to make Hank love him back, and it starts with getting the lieutenant into his bed.(hilarious fic, made me laugh so fkin hard, also sweet&kinky)

Autodidact by yohan (complete; 11k+)After installing new sensory upgrades, Connor’s life begins to change.(this fic is short but it makes me feel A Lot)

A Tourist in a Dream by Octobig (wip; 164k+)(there’s a reason everyone is screaming about this fic and that’s because it’s amazing thanks for coming to my TED talk)

Skin Deep by bughnrahk (complete; 53k+)Hank is 53 years old. He’s never had a soul mark, doesn’t have a soul mate. And he’s fine with that. He cheated the system once and it cost him everything he had. Never again.When August 2038 rolls around and the number ‘313 248 317 - 51’ appears on his arm in perfect Cyberlife Sans font, exactly where a soul mark should be, Hank wants nothing to do with it.

eighteen wheels on an uphill climb by blackeyedblonde (wip; 73k+)Hank is going to die. He’s going to die right here in Kentucky, 53 years old, halfway to broke, and tragically sober. Survived only by a nine-year-old St. Bernard and the 31-year-old twink who delivered the fatal blow.(this fic is my current obsession. I’m not kidding. I reread the WHOLE FIC every time a new chapter comes out. this will put me in an early grave)

#snarry #i haven't read some of these fics in years #but still #wincest #marvey #Anonymous #Owl #i'm exposing like.. half of my pairings #cherik #sebaciel #hankcon #i have more hankcon fics but this is ALREADY TOO DAMN LONG #long post #i'm so sorry #i went off #fic recs #mega fic rec list

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alltheloveflowerh · 5 years

Text

70′s Love story

disclaimer: this is something i wrote a long time ago, ive teased it a few times but i never got around finishing it, not sure whether y’all are gonna like it but here it is, at least as much as it was written.

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The city of Brighton and Hove wasn’t the ideal place to live in the period of 1970’s, but despite everything Y/N made it work. Some parts of the city were threatened with demolition while others were being built, but the level of unemployment in Brighton and Hove was still very high, especially in the central districts. Therefore, Y/N had a bit of a problem at first; because inheriting a pub after her father’s passing wasn’t an option. It’s not that she didn’t want it, but more that she wasn’t fit for that kind of a job, since then an eighteen-year-old, didn’t know much about running a bar where all bikers of Brighton hung out; so her godfather, or the best friend of Y/N’s father, took over the business. That’s why Y/N choose to do art; a little bit of everything – street art, painting, drawing, embroidery – name it, she’s done it. It wasn’t the highest income, but it was enough for a now twenty-year-old to afford the rent and additional costs.

Living with one parent was hard for Y/N, but it was way harder after her father’s passing. When her mother left them, only to remarry some rich snob from London, it was tough on the young girl who was supposed to grow up without a mother, but her dad did everything in his power to make her feel as loved as possible and to make life easier for his little girl. Her father was one of the most respected men in the area; everyone knew him and everyone loved the kind biker who always had his little girl with a mop of curls in his arms. So after his death, Y/N’s godfather Niklaus took the responsibility of further raising her and making sure that the girl grew up to be as wonderful as her father was.

Y/N’s apartment wasn’t too big; it was a small one-bedroom apartment. The main room contained the necessary kitchen equipment, a dining table, and the remaining space could be considered the living room. Her bedroom, however, was much smaller due to the fact that half of it was used to make a bathroom and the other half had a platform bed and several but small bedroom cabinets for different uses. Despite it being a rather small apartment, the rent was still high, therefore when Niall came to Y/N looking for a couch to sleep on, they split the bills and it ended up being affordable for both of them.

Speaking of Niall, he had been Y/N’s best friend for years; he was one of the kindest people with a heart of gold, but he was forced to leave his parent’s house as they did not accept him for who he was, so Y/N was the first who immediately offered him a place to stay and food to eat. And Niall was a great roommate, amazing even; not only did he clean after himself and willingly help with all chores, but he also always assisted Y/N whenever she was choosing what to wear and Niall was damn good at it.

Like her father, who had been a biker living the rocker life for over twenty years, Y/N too became a massive fan of the rock’n’roll music and their style of living. Her wardrobe mostly consisted of denim and leather clothes, with worn-out band t-shirts and worn-out combat boots and converse shoes. Sometimes her appearance could remind one of the hippies, with her bright colours, patterned and floral clothes; but that was rare, it only happened when Niall had enough of seeing Y/N in different shades of black so he would make her wear those clothes.

So when Y/N, a sweet and soft spoken girl who always wore a smile on her face, met Harry who was the exact opposite of her, it was quite unusual. Because Harry was someone you wouldn’t know was nice, unless you met them. He had sullen face; a frown on his face, mean stare – a face that looked mad ninety percent of the time, but inside he was a nice and caring person although he rarely showed it.

Harry was this twenty-two-year-old boy who lived alone in the city of Brighton and Hove. He had been obsessed with motorcycles ever since he was around six years old, and he later on started working as a mechanic at the age of sixteen. At twenty-two, he continued being a mechanic although he only works with motorcycles – that was his forte. With that, Harry had earned himself the respect of fellow bikers who accepted him as one of their own. The older bikes thought of him as their son, while the bikers around his age considered him a brother and a friend.

With that one specific pub where all bikers gathered, Harry too became one of their regulars, famous for his significant leather jacket with a Harley Davidson logo embroidered on the back and Styles embroidered on the left side of the front; as well as his restored motorcycle parked at the front. In the past few months Harry also sang on almost every Friday and Saturday night, after the people in the pub discovered the young man’s talent for singing and songwriting. But that pub wasn’t only important because there he felt the most at home but because that’s where he met Y/N.

The day when they met, started for Y/N off by Niall violently shaking her to wake her up, since she was going to be late for work. As the day went by and Y/N was finishing her work, she planned to visit Nik (who she usually called uncle Nik). Y/N didn’t have a habit of spending too much time in that pub; she only went there at the end of each month when uncle Nik would need her to help him out with the bills and payment since she had the brains for that sort of thing. It was a usual day until she met the unusual boy.

As she walked into the pub, she went straight to the bar where all the papers were laid out for her. Quickly waving at Nik, who was sorting out the back, she sat down on a stool and started doing her thing. It didn’t take her a long time to finish doing the bills, so she put them behind the bar before sitting back down and taking a book out of her backpack. Y/N loved reading, and when she was reading she was so invested in the story that she would forget about her surroundings, which usually ended in someone scaring her, just like then when a certain voice startled her.

‘’What’s a girl like you, doing in a pub like this?’’

‘’Do me a solid and leave, yeah?’’ Y/N looked over at the boy leaning against the bar, looking straight at her with a smug face.

‘’You look a tad too young for this place, we do not approve of underage drinking here.’’ The boy with Styles written on his leather jacket said.

‘’Well, you look like a prick, but you don’t see me complaining.’’ With an annoyed expression and a fake smile she looked straight into his eyes; his pine green eyes with yellow spots. The boy chuckled at her.

‘’It’s a bummer you think of me like that, doll. Only looking out for you, this can be a very dangerous place, especially for a girl like you.’’ Y/N wished she could wipe that annoying smirk off his face. He was cocky, far too cocky for Y/N’s liking.

‘’Listen, Styles’’ her eyes fluttered form his chest where his name was written up to his eyes again, ‘’Blow off, and stop being a jive turkey. I am well over the age limit and I sure as hell can go wherever the hell I want to.’’ If there was anything Y/N hated, it was when men were arrogant especially towards women. Men are pigs – she always thought. So in those cases, Y/N loved using derogatory terms, the same ones they used for women.

‘’Bloody hell, feisty little thing, aren’t you, foxy?’’ An attractive woman or Foxy – there it was, another term Y/N absolutely hated. She could see Styles leaning forward a bit, suddenly inhaling the horrible smell of cigarettes. He brought his lips closer to her ear. ‘’Not that I, personally, mind but a mouth like yours could get you in a lot of trouble. Be careful, aye?’’ He lowly spoke before pulling away and meeting her gaze again.

‘’Styles. You’re not harassing my niece, are you?’’ Nik said, with a towel hanging from his shoulder as he leaned onto the counter.

‘’No, no, of course not, Klaus.’’ The young boy straightened his back, standing taller; as Y/N gave him a very smug look because it seemed like no matter how confident he was, Nik still had the authority.

‘’I’d sure hope so, lad.’’ Nik nodded at him. Y/N got up, putting the book she was reading away before she was rudely interrupted, making her way towards the exit. ‘’Bye uncle Niklaus.’’

As the door shut behind her, she could hear the door opening again before a voice spoke up behind her.

‘’I never caught your name.’’ The Styles boy jogged quickly next to her.

‘’That’s because I never told you, Casanova.’’ He chuckled at her once again; he was a decent looking lad, Y/N though, but he seemed far too up his ass.

‘’Is that so?’’ He cocked his head to one side, ‘’Then do come by again, yeah?’’ He flashed her one of his best smiles.

‘’So it’s not dangerous anymore, huh?’’

‘’I’ll make sure to protect you, angel.’’ It was weird, because Y/N liked how he winked at her after saying that. She liked his whole look, his leather jacket, leather pants, a pair of boots. She only hummed in response before she turned away leaving him behind.

‘’My name’s Harry, by the way!’’ He yelled out after her, a smile on his face, but Y/N didn’t see it because she didn’t turn around but just waved her hand in a flipping him off manner.

Harry Styles – the name of a boy who was soon going to steal her heart. Of course Y/N told Niall about everything and of course Niall gushed about the biker boy with her. She told him about how full of himself he was, and how cocky he acted, but how sweet his smile was and how kind his green eyes were. Of course she denied finding him attractive, but Niall knew better.

For a few days, Y/N did not go back to the pub being swamped with work, but one time uncle Nik called her house phone, to come by the next day after work. Y/N worked for this old couple in their sixties called Charles and Tonya; technically she didn’t work for them but more like with them. Tonya owned an old art store, where people went in and out buying different arts for different purposes, but Charles was the one who asked a seventeen-year-old Y/N (and her father, of course) whether she would be willing to sell them her art. Which later became a little business of theirs, Y/N would get paid to do some embroidery on jackets, jeans, bags and so on, as well as paint some nice landscapes or portraits; and sometimes Tonya would give her extra money for her art when people insisted on paying a bigger price for her masterpieces, as the customers called them. Sometimes even, people would put in orders for a certain thing, and Y/N was always happy whenever she got a call.

After working on several items and their embroideries, Y/N decided it was enough for that day so she packed her backpack before heading to uncle Nik’s pub. Some days Y/N liked to walk and some, like that day, she took her baby blue bike and would stroll around town on it, with a little brown basket attached at the front. Leaning her bike against the walls of the pub, Y/N went inside greeting her godfather.

‘’Hey there, zippy.’’ Uncle Nik said, hugging Y/N tightly.

‘’Hii’’, she sat down in front of the bar, looking around, ‘’How have you been?’’

‘’I’m good, yeah.’’ Nik turned around grabbing a small envelope, and placing it on the bar. ‘’This is yours, zippy.’’ Ever since she was a kid, uncle Nik called her zippy as she was an energetic child who never stopped running and skipping around.

‘’What’s this?’’ Opening the envelope, she saw money inside and immediately pushed it back, ‘’No, no, this isn’t mine. I’m not taking this.’’

‘’Yes, you are, It’s your pocket money.’’ Y/N gave her uncle a deadpanned look. ‘’Don’t give me that look, young lady.’’ He added with a warning in his voice.

‘’I don’t need it, uncle Nik, I promise. I have my own.’’

‘’I do not care. I promised your father I would take care of you, and this is yours.’’ Gesturing to the money, he continued, ‘’Use it for paint, or cotton threads, just take it, alright?’’ A reassuring smile on his face.

She stayed in the pub for a little while chatting to uncle Nik, but also hoping a certain someone would walk in any second, but he never did. Uncle Nik continued doing his work, when Y/N said goodbye to him and headed towards the exit. Dropping her backpack in the little basket, she jumped upon hearing someone cough behind her. Turning around, Y/N saw Harry; his tall figure leaning against the wall, one leg bent in the knee holding the heel of his boot against the wall, the leather pants hugging his legs tightly, with a leather jacket draped from his shoulder. A half burned cigarette laying between his index and middle finger, indicating that he must have been standing there for a few minutes already. Harry took one more drag on his cigarette, exhaling the smoke before he spoke up.

‘’Fancy seeing you here, love.’’ A smirk was taking over his face while his eyes trailed up and down her body.

‘’You know smoking is bad for you, right?’’ Y/N didn’t exactly want him to know that she hoped to see him, but she mentally slapped herself after saying that out loud.

‘’Perhaps, but girls find it sexy, or so I’ve heard.’’ Pushing himself of off the wall, he walked the short distance between them, leaning on of his shoulders on the wall.

‘’Not exactly sure, what’s so sexy about dying before turning thirty.’’ She said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest. Looking directly into his eyes, trying too hard to intimidate him.

‘’That’s a bit morbid, isn’t it, love? Listen-‘’ Y/N took the cigarette from his hands and lighting it off after she tossed it on the ground and stepped on it. ‘’Now that was just rude, babe.’’

‘’I’d advise you to stop, but you do whatever you want to.’’ She picked it up from the floor, tossing it into the bin.

‘’How about – I forgive you for my cigarette, if you come by tonight. What do you say?’’ His flirtatious game didn’t work on Y/N, well it did, but she wasn’t giving in.

‘’I’ll have to see if I’m free, sadly.’’ Y/N said, her voice full of sarcasms. Turning away from him, she swung her leg over the bike, sitting down on it.

‘’C’mon, babe. You’ll love it, I assure you.’’

‘’Weren’t you the one who told me it was a dangerous place, for a girl like me?’’ Y/N furrowed her brows, placing her index finger on her chin. She was taking the mick out of him, loving the hard work he put into flirting with her.

‘’Don’t you worry your pretty self, I’ll knock out ever guy that even looks at you.’’ Harry got closer, the bike tire standing between his legs, as he leaned against the handlebars.

‘’Not promising anything, Styles.. Sorry.’’ She shrugged her shoulders at him, thinking that she was probably going to show up, but decided against telling him. She moved backwards with her bike, causing Harry to stumble a bit.

‘’Cute bike. A very cute bike.’’ Harry smiled at her, the dimples popping out and his lips stretched into a wide grin.

‘’Goodbye, Styles.’’ Rolling her eyes, Y/N started leaving, getting further away from the pub as she heard him yell after her.

‘’You still haven’t told me your name!’’ He was waving his hands frantically at her.

‘’It’s Y/N!’’ Pressing on her breaks, Y/N turned her head to look at him.

‘’See you tonight then, pretty girl!’’

Unfortunately, Y/N didn’t make it that day to go and see Harry, as she continued working a lot and due to the tiredness, she fell asleep and didn’t wake up until nine in the morning the day after. But after Y/N came back home from that little conversation with Harry, she gushed to Niall telling him all the details. Her tummy felt all giddy just talking about him, and it seemed like she was developing a certain type of crush that was more than silly. Niall was excited about the green-eyed boy almost more than Y/N was; he was so happy whenever Y/N talked to him about Harry even though they only met twice.

On that Saturday morning, once again Niall was the one to wake her up; seeing as she looked half dead he got a bit concerned. But once he found out that Y/N didn’t go and see Harry because she fell asleep, he started throwing pillows at her. If Niall had been home, he certainly would have woken her up, but as Niall was out till quite late, he couldn’t exactly do that.

‘’You’re so daft!’’ Niall said, throwing back the pillow at her.

‘’I didn’t mean to, okay?! Stop attacking me!’’ Hiding under the blankets, Y/N tried to defend herself.

‘’I even laid out a dress for you! You were going to look so shagadelic, Y/N!’’ He face-palmed his own self, because of how daft his best friend was.

‘’Niall! Stop it!’’ She took the pillow under her head and threw it at him, ‘’And for fuck’s sake! Do not use that word ever again!’’

‘’I will say whatever I want to! And that was the whole point of going there! To finally lose that bloody purity ring!’’

‘’Oh my God, Niall!!’’ Y/N yelled out, ‘’I was not going to shag him! He only invited me because- because he was being nice!’’

‘’Liste-‘’

‘’And I’m not wearing that stupid ring! I might have not… you know.. but I don’t have that stupid ring on!’’ She argued, but Niall only came closer and sat down on her bed.

‘’Right now, you’re going to wash your hair and I will lay out an outfit for you. And you are going over to the pub and apologise to the boy!’’ Giving her a stern look, he got up to look through her clothes while Y/N only groaned.

And that’s what ended happening. Niall laid out tight leather jeans – ‘’You’re wearing them! End of story.’’ – pairing them with combat boots and a white The Rolling Stones shirt. She added her significant denim jacket, with embroidery she had done on it. This time she decided to walk, as she wanted to mentally prepare herself to be in the same room as Harry. As usual, a lot of motorcycles were standing outside, she got around them and went inside the pub, releasing a breath like it was her last. The music was lowly playing, but the pub wasn’t as half as empty as she expected it to be. It was crowded, several groups of people sitting in the booths, but no one looked like a Harry. Squinting her eyes to take a better scan of the crowd again, but nothing, there was no Harry.

‘’Looking for someone, babe?’’ A way too familiar voice said behind her, scaring her.

‘’Bloody hell!’’ He almost made her scream; putting a hand over her heart she took a good look at him. He was standing behind the bar, leaning his elbows against it and once again with that stupid smirk on his face.

‘’Sorry for scaring you, love.’’

‘’It’s- it’s fine..’’ Taking a sit on the stool, she started feeling very panicky, not knowing what to do or say.

‘’I have to admit, babe, last night’’ He looked down, before looking directly into her eyes, ‘’While I was waiting for you,’’ he placed a hand over his heart, faking a sad expression, ‘’my heart was aching. A lot.’’

‘’I-I’m, I’m sorry! I-I am-‘’ Maybe Y/N was naive to believe his fake sadness, but she was a soft soul who didn’t like hurting others. ‘’I overslept Harry, I swear.’’

‘’I knew you would have a good excuse, puppy..’’ A fake sigh escaped his lips, trying to contain himself from breaking into a smile while she struggled to get a word out. ‘’But it’s okay, I guess. I can’t say I expected you to like me, really..’’Shrugging his shoulders, he leaned his head into one of his palms.

‘’No, no, no! Harry, I-I did want to come, I-I swear! It’s just- I was working a lot and I got tired, bu-but I planned what to wear already and I just thought to have a little nap before I come here..’’ Y/N reached her hand over, holding one of his in a way trying to assure him that she, in fact, wasn’t lying. ‘’But I overslept... An-and I only woke up like two hours ago.. I’m sorry, Harry.’’ Her voice was so sincere, that it broke Harry’s heart how kind she was, apologising to him for nothing. So he came over around the bar, sitting next to her, placing her small hand in his.

‘’I am messing with you, my love.’’ Harry chuckled, ‘’It was a shame that you never showed up, but I guess, I could forgive you.’’ Gasping, Y/N hit his chest repeatedly.

‘’Why are you such a prick?’’ It kind of bothered her that he was acting like that, because she was worried that he could have been mad at her, and there he was taking the piss. Y/N stood up from the stool, taking a few steps away from him wanting to hide in the bathroom. But as soon as she got up, an alarm went off inside Harry’s head, making him take her hand to spin her and pull her in his embrace.

‘’Nooo, don’t be mad at me now, pretty girl.’’ Having his hands around her and having her close to him felt like heaven. ‘’Forgive me, puppy?’’ He whispered; a hand in her hair playing with it, his lips pressed against her head.

‘’You’re being very mean to me..’’ Her voice was small, barely understandable. She wanted to fight him hugging her, but she seemed to enjoy it way too much.

‘’How about I make it up to you?’’ He asked, humming afterwards, still holding her tightly despite the stares he got from his lads sitting on a few meters away. ‘’Tonight, at Rover’s Diner, yea’? Just you and me.. what do you say?’’ Harry lifted his head to take a better look at her.

‘’I-I-‘’ Did he just call me out on a date?, Y/N thought, but she might have said it out loud.

‘’Yes he did, babe.’’ Laughing softly, he shook his head at her being so cute yet mesmerising.

‘’Shit...’’ Y/N coughed, feeling her face get warm from embarrassment. ‘’I’d-I would really like that...yeah..’’

‘’Good.. would you like me to pick you up?’’ He said, releasing the tight grip he had on her, but still holding onto her.

‘’N-No. I will meet you there.’’ Y/N looked up at him for the first time in a while, taking in the features of his face; his pink lips that looked very soft, his green eyes with the tiniest amount of yellow in them. She started wondering what would it be like if she were to have him as her muse, but Harry interrupted her thoughts.

‘’Okay. Then be there at 8 o’clock. Do not fall asleep on me again, got it babe?’’

‘’Y-Yeah, I won’t.. promise.’’ She chuckled nervously, feeling her face get warm again because of how Harry made her feel.

‘’Tonight it is then, baby.’’ Harry placed a soft kiss on her cheek. He slowly let her go before he went back behind the bar, as that was his whole purpose – watching the pub while Nik was out paying bills. But luckily for Harry, he went behind the bar just before Nik came back.

‘’Mornin’ zippy, didn’t know you were gonna be here.’’ Kissing his goddaughters cheek, he went right next to Harry. ‘’Alright there, Harold?’’

‘’Y-Yes, sir. All good.’’ Harry was stuttering, because he, now, felt intimidated by the bearded man who once called Y/N his niece.

‘’Not bothering my niece, are you?’’ Nik narrowed his brows at the boy, in a questionable manner.

‘’N-No, Klaus, certainly not, sir.’’ Nik only nodded his head and went into storage room, as Y/N chuckled at the stuttering Harry.

‘’Oh shush, you!’’

‘’See you tonight, Harry.’’ Fidgeting with her fingers, she kept rocking back and forth on her feet. ‘’Goodbye.’’ She waved at him, walking towards the exit but still looking at him with a little smile on her face.

‘’Bye, baby.’’ He sang, dragging the Y out and winking at her.

Both of them could feel the excitement in the pit of their stomach, but they showed it in two different ways. While Y/N bounced up and down throughout her walk back home, only to get even more giddy after talking to Niall about the whole situation; Harry on the other hand, kept a stern look on his face, putting up a facade as if nothing happened, only to feel the tingly sensations inside his whole body, nervously waiting for the clock to hit eight.

His friends were making fun of Harry as soon as he sat down next to them. Upon seeing the rather unusual interaction between a very reserved Harry and sweet looking girl, his best mates made it their goal to tease him about her. Harry kept suppressing a smirk, not wanting to give his mates the satisfaction of knowing, but that didn’t stop them as all four of them either nudged his shoulders, winked or made kissy noises at him.

‘’Who’s the bird, Styles?’’ His mate Aaron asked, taking a sip of his beer even though it was way too early for alcohol. A smug look on his face, knowing well enough who the girl was.

‘’Do not call her a bird, do you hear me?’’ A warning tone lingering in Harry’s voice. Clasping his hands together, he leaned his elbows against the table.

‘’Alright, calm down Harold. We know who she is, but I really hope for your sake, you do too.’’ Putting an arm over his chest and pushing him back, the dark-eyed boy said.

‘’Yes, Silas. I am aware.’’ Harry looked straight into his eyes, which had the power to intimidate anyone but Harry. ‘’She is Klaus’s niece.’’ But after adding that sentence, all of his mates looked at him with worry.

‘’You know she’s Raphael’s daughter...’’, Silas narrowed his eyes at him, hoping he was quite aware of that, ‘’...right? Harry?’’

‘’What do you mean?’’ Questionable look on his face. Could she be..?

‘’The original owner of this pub, Raphael... He was like a legend in town, you know him? Well that’s his daughter your smitten with.’’

‘’Fucking hell... Klaus is going to dissect every inch of me if he finds out...’’ With worry in his voice and a tight lip, his mates only nodded. ‘’I’m even taking her out tonight and if he as much as sees me...’’ His own eyes widened with fear, because he knew Raphael but he also knew Klaus.

It did worry Harry that Klaus could get mad at him for taking his niece out, but for now Klaus didn’t know anything about them and he was more worried about how he was going to look like for that night since he really wanted to impress Y/N, both with his looks and his charm.

‘’Do any of you own a shirt?’’ Harry looked at each one of his mates, ‘’Just help me, alright? I don’t own any shirts and I need it for tonight. Please?’’

‘’I have a pink one, with polka dots. My mum bought it for me, but I only wore it twice.’’

‘’I can’t bloody wear a pink shirt, you bloody mental?’’

‘’What do you mean? Yes you can. Pink is very rock and roll.’’

Thinking about it his friend was probably right, there was nothing wrong with pink. Harry sighed deeply and just nodded his head in agreement. The polka dot shirt didn’t look bad on him, he left a few buttons undone but it wasn’t so bad after all. If someone was looking at the four men and that one man changing shirts in from of them, no one would have ever thought that those people are biker who were supposedly a bad influence and very dangerous. Harry put his leather jacket on, before he crouched down to tie his shoelaces of his black converse as he decided against boots this time, considering his plans for that night.

While Y/N, on the other hand, stood in her underwear for almost two hour before finally deciding what to wear. Of course Niall was by her side, but after going over several different combinations Y/N became a little fussy. In the end, they chose a long red floral dress with small flares on the end. It wasn’t tight nor wide and it had a small ribbon being tied around the waist. Finishing her outfit with the denim jacket and white worn out converse shoes, Niall and Y/N headed towards Rover’s Diner. Y/N was feeling nervous, jumpy and happy, all at the same time, while Niall walked with her because he wouldn’t let her walk alone at night and well, he was also there as moral support. But as soon as the fluorescent sign came into view, he kissed her cheek and let her walk there on her own.

Approaching the diner, Y/N noticed one bike parked in front of it which could only indicate that Harry was inside already. Taking one deep breath, Y/N walked into the diner scanning the space before she noticed Harry sitting in one of the booths with a frown on his face. Once he saw Y/N, the frown disappeared instead there was smile when he stood up to greet her.

‘’Hi there.’’ One arm lingering over her lower back and the other going over Y/N’s shoulders, Harry hugged her. ‘’How are you?’’

‘’I’m good, thank you..’’ She sat down across from him, ‘’Yourself?’’

‘’I’m, I’m good, yeah.’’ He chuckled, ‘’Better now.’’ He added, before quickly glancing at her.

Looking at him made her whole face feel warm, the pink shirt looked really good on him; his exposed chest looked toned, bits of his tattoos were peaking. And it made Y/N wonder how many more he had. But after thinking of his tattoos, she imagined him without any clothes; thinking how he would make a beautiful muse – how good his toned body would look painted on her newly bought canvas, how she would highlight those green eyes and the little spark in them. Admiring his beauty, Y/N also just wanted to stick her hand out and poke one of his dimples.

‘’Alright there, love? Look a bit flustered.’’ A cheeky grin on his face, loving the fact that she’s just as mesmerised with him as he was with her. Y/N coughed uncomfortably, due to being caught.

‘’That’s a cute shirt you’re wearing. Very cute.’’ Changing the topic, Y/N complimented the polka dot shirt he was wearing.

‘’Thanks,’’ he said through a little laugh, ‘’I forgot to say, you look very beautiful. Stunning even.’’

‘’Thank you.’’ It seemed like her face getting warm became her usual state around Harry.

‘’Well hello, handsome. What can I treat you to, babe?’’ A figure suddenly appeared next to them; a pretty tall girl with an apron around her waist and an awful sound of her chewing her gum. She was looking directly at Harry, ignoring the fact that Y/N was right there. And it kind of bothered her, bottling up the anger in the pit of her stomach.

‘’Um, can we have two quiches and two iced teas, please. Is that alright with you, love?’’ Harry asked, stretching his hand over to table to hold hers, but she quickly put it under the table, nodding only.

‘’This one doesn’t look much like a speaker to me, bet I could give you the fun you want, lover boy.’’ The waitress said, scribbling down their orders, before sending a little wink Harry’s way.

‘’You might as well then, I’ll just fuck-‘’ Was Y/N overreacting? Probably, but she couldn’t help herself.

‘’I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me or my girl like that again. Thank you.’’ Leaning himself over the table to lightly push Y/N down, who was half-way up ready to leave. The waitress gasped in shock, leaving both of them quickly in embarrassment.

‘’Do forgive me for that, yeah? I wasn’t quite aware that the waitress was gonna be rude.’’ Harry turned his hand, the palm facing upwards, waiting for Y/N to put her own on top.

‘’Yeah. It’s...fine.’’ Ignoring the sensations in her body when he called her his girl, Y/N finally placed her hand into his, only for him to grasp it and leave a kiss on the back of it.

Despite him looking pissed at everyone most of the time, Y/N thought that Harry was lovely and very charming. But that was only the stereotype everyone had for bikers, so Y/N knew better than to judge Harry based on how he looked at first because now, she was enjoying his presence and having an amazing time with him at the diner.

Their night was filled with chats, laughter, jokes and amazing food. From time to time Harry would reach for her hand and just stroke it with his thumb. They learned new things about each other, but only the basic stuff for now. The night was coming to an end, but neither of them wanted it to. After paying for their dinner, they were standing in front of the shop; Harry’s hand holding hers, not wanting to let it go. He closed the distance between them, leaning his chin on top of her head.

‘’I don’t want you to go.’’

‘’Don’t let me then.’’ Nuzzling her head towards his neck, Y/N placed a soft kiss right in the crook of it.

‘’Then let me take you somewhere, baby. Somewhere far away from here.’’ Leading her by the hand, they’re standing in front of his bike. ‘’You gonna be okay on this?’’

‘’Y-Yeah, sure..’’ Swallowing hard, she couldn’t exactly say she wasn’t scared.

‘’What did I tell you the other day about your safety?’’ He hummed, talking into her hair.

‘’That you’re going knock everyone out?’’ Raising her eyebrows, she looked up at him a tad confused.

‘’Well, my point was that I’m gonna keep you safe no matter what. I do care for you, my love.’’

‘’Do you promise?’’ Y/N asked, holding up her pinky finger.

‘’I promise.’’ Hooking his pinky finger with hers, he pressed a light kiss on her forehead. ‘’C’mon then, let’s go.’’ He turned away from her, taking a helmet into his hands and putting it on Y/N’s head.

‘’But where’s yours, Harry?’’

‘’Don’t you worry about me, puppy.’’ He answered, concentrating on clasping the little belt under her chin.

‘’Harryyy, you have to wear one too!’’

‘’I’m gonna be okay, baby. It’s you, who I want safe.’’ Turning away, he raised one leg just above the bike to swing over it, before he reached a hand for Y/N hop on.

‘’But I’m wearing a dress...’’ Her face getting warm once again, because it was a problem. How was she supposed to sit?

‘’Here, take my hand’’, when she placed her hand over his, he held it tight, ‘’Now, with your other hand pull your dress up, enough to place your leg on the other side of the bike.’’

Somehow Y/N managed to sit right behind Harry, but her dress reached her knees now because it wasn’t that stretchy to be pulled further down. Harry pulled his hands back a bit, wiggling his fingers and signalizing to her to put hers there. Every time their skins touched, her whole body felt alive, as if it was electricity sending shocks through her body but it was only Harry’s touch. He intertwined their fingers together, but soon untangled when he placed Y/N’s hands over his stomach.

‘’Hold on tight, alright baby?’’ The second he said that he could feel her grip around his stomach tighten. ‘’You can also lean in, if it’s more comfortable. It’s not a long ride, but better make it good.’’

She slid an inch down the seat, pressing her body against his. The horrible smell of cigarettes could still be felt in his leather jacket but Y/N simply didn’t care considering the situation. As Harry started driving, the ends of Y/N’s hair sticking out of the helmet started floating as the wind hit her face. The cold wind sent shivers down her spine, but yet she felt warm holding tightly onto Harry. The ride wasn’t too long, Harry was right, but it was rather bumpy as they went up hill until all they could see were trees. Getting off the bike, Harry reached out his hand and helped Y/N get off of it as well. He intertwined their hands again leading Y/N through the woods with only the moonlight illuminating the way.

‘’You’re not going to kill me, right?’’ Y/N said, looking back at his bike before turning her attention back to Harry.

‘’Perhaps not, but I’ve been told I have some killer looks, so no promises, babe.’’ He winked at her giving her hand a little squeeze.

The walk wasn’t long as they soon approached a small wooden bench with the most beautiful view. Y/N wasn’t sure how or why that bench was there, but it fit perfectly into the whole aesthetic. They both sat down on it, leaving some space between them only for Harry to chuckle and shake his head to himself as he slid right next to Y/N.

‘’This place is really pretty, Harry.’’ And it was; fields of green surrounding them looking like a soft green blanket covering the earth; a three quarter full moon illuminating its light onto the endless fields and the lovely couple sitting on a bench.

‘’What can I say, comes with the charm.’’ A cheeky grin on his face, wide enough to make his dimples appear as he kept looking at the even prettier girl right next to him. ‘’God, why do I feel like you’re gonna break my heart, angel? Hm?’’

‘’Me? I’m not the one who’s going to break someone’s heart.’’ Y/N looked at him, as he brought his head closer to her neck, brushing the tip of his nose against it.

‘’I wouldn’t even dream of breaking your heart.’’ He placed a soft kiss in the crook of her neck.

‘’Yeah? Because I really don’t want you to.’’ Her heart beating faster with each second, as she raised hand and put it on Harry cheek to lift his head a little bit.

‘’I hope no one steals you away from me, baby. And I’m scared, you know, because you’re so, you’re so loveable.’’ His voice came out as a whisper, letting his head lean into Y/N’s palm and closing the distance more and more.

‘’They won’t..’’ Y/N mumbled, the distance between their lips only an inch away.

Harry closed his eyes, as he made the final move closing the distance between them. He kissed her gently and carefully, moving his lips against her soft ones. It felt like something Y/N had never experienced before, her grip on him tightened, pulling him even closer; while Harry’s palm was laying on Y/N’s cheek caressing it gently. There was silence all around them, but it was like fireworks going off in their heads. Y/N didn’t want him to stop, because it was like everything had fallen into its place; it was like their hearts were beating in the same pattern and their minds racing at the same speed, warmth spreading all over their bodies, just because of a simple kiss. Making herself giggle, Y/N broke the kiss smiling so widely that Harry kissed her teeth by accident. Her giggle was a simple sound, yet strong enough to make Harry smile as well.

‘’I swear to God, angel, I’m on the edge of falling in love with you with every passing second.’’ His eyes were still closed, his nose was brushing against hers and his heart was going wild, just for her. Harry never wanted to let go of that feeling, he never wanted to let go of her.

‘’Harry?’’ He hummed as response. ‘’Kiss me again, please.’’

Without wasting another second, Harry connected their lips again. And Y/N, not caring that she was wearing a dress, she pushed herself off the bench placing her legs on each side of Harry’s body, without once disconnecting their lips. The dress crumpled up all the way to her knees, sending shivers through her exposed legs, but yet her body wasn’t trembling from the cold. They kissed until both of them ran out of breath. Y/N was sitting right on top of Harry, pushing herself lightly against him, making a groan escape his lips.

‘’Not only do you make my heart beat faster, baby, but you also make my dick harder.’’ He said, detaching their lips and looking directly into Y/N’s widened eyes. There was a little but proud smirk on his face. He earned himself a light slap over his chest, as sudden rush of warmth took over Y/N’s cheeks.

‘’Stop it..’’ She giggled, hiding her head in the crook of his neck, only for Harry to tighten the grip around her waist; Y/N pressed herself more against him, just to tease him a little more.

‘‘You can’t just move against me like that, baby, it does things to me. But very good things.’’ The closeness of her body keeping him warm, but the way she was sitting on his lap, an innocent act but in a form of intimacy. Y/N was practically asking for him to get a stiffy, considering the power she had on him, it was hard not to get hard as she herself pressed further into him.

‘’Fine then, maybe I’ll just move away-‘’

‘’No, no, no. No, you stay right where you are.’’ There was something about her that made him fall hard. Perhaps it was her flowery scent of her skin, or her beautiful eyes that sparkled every time he looked her; or maybe it was the way she made him feel, but whatever it was – it caused him to fall.

‘’Are you cold, my love?’’ Harry asked, suddenly remembering that it was quite windy and Y/N was only wearing a denim jacket. ‘’Denim isn’t exactly the warmest material you could have picked.’’ A cheeky smile stretched over his face, thinking of his next move.

‘’How was I supposed to know you were going to take me up to a bloody hill?!’’

‘’Now now, no need for that, babe. Here, I’m gonna take care of you.’’ Running his hands over her body, Harry took Y/N’s jacket off of her laying it right next to him. Then he took his own off and slowly placed it over her shoulders taking her arms and gently pushing them through the sleeves. ‘’Better now, baby?’’

‘’Yeah...’’ She pulled the jacket around her body tighter, the warmth of the inside of his jacket taking over her skin. ‘’Feels nice, thank you.’’ As Harry pulled her jacket over his shoulders, putting it on, Y/N left a little peck on his lips.

‘’Where did you get this jacket with embroidery though?’’

‘’Somewhere downtown, it’s just a jacket.’’

‘’I had to have my done, so how come you have embroidery on yours?’’ Y/N always wore oversized jackets, so her denim jacket fit perfectly on Harry and it looked really good especially with his pink shirt.

‘’Oh that, I did it by myself.’’ She shrugged her shoulders, as if it was that simple.

‘’Wait, really? All of it?’’ His eyes widened in surprise, as Y/N nodded her head. The embroidery on her jacket was beautiful; a big wreath over the back of it, filled with different flowers and colours, a small heart in the middle of it in the colour of a rainbow; on the front of it there were some patches of different band logos, but Harry couldn’t believe she did it all because he knew how hard embroidery was, his mum used to do it. ‘’Wow, it’s, it’s amazing. It’s really really good.’’

‘’Thank you...’’ Y/N was never good with compliments, she never knew what to do or say except thank you, but after each compliment she’d lower her head as the warmth crept into her cheeks. ‘’It’s what I do.’’ She quickly added.

‘’How did I not know this? Why have you kept this from me?’’

‘’I didn’t know you were supposed to know!’’ She hid her face into her palms, but Harry took her hands and placed them on his neck, pushing his forehead against hers.

......

sorry if ends here, like i said i never got around to finish it but i wanted you all to read as much as there is. hope you liked it and sorry for the mistakes.

lemme know whacha think, i’d love to know

#harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles #harry #styles #harry styles imagines #alltheloveflowerh

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goodproofingwater · 5 years

Text

Wildfire Records: Breaking America - Chapter Four

Word count: 2016

Playlist: Amsterdam - Nothing But Thieves

Press play when you see the *

He had been out of hospital for three days before he began attending the groups. The nurse had advised him to attend support groups and see how they went before he made the decision to go to a residential rehab clinic. He didn’t want to go and live in a hospital, he hated being away from everyone, hated the looks that some of the porters gave him, but he knew that he had to kick this drug habit.

Still, he attended the groups, went back into hospital for weekly check-ups and before long he was receiving his 30-day sober chip. He had never been so proud of anything in his life. He had always taken drugs, couldn’t remember a time where he wouldn’t wake up and it be the first thing he thought about. Now he felt like his mind was clearer than ever.

The rehab center had advised that he stay away from any illegal substances, that he could drink in moderation and smoke if he thought he could handle it, but he shouldn’t do anything which would cause him to spiral. He was going to have to be very careful, but for the first time in years, he felt like he actually mattered, that life was worth living even without the powder.

His phone had been ringing off the hook since the three days he had gone missing. He had sent a quick text to Cindy to let her know what was going on but it only made it worse. He knew he had to face it at some point, but he would have breakfast first.

Moving into the kitchen, he bit his lip as he saw Josh and Victoria. He was sitting on one of the stools at the breakfast bar and she was between his legs, their lips grazing softly against each other’s as his hands moved to grip at her waist. His arms had pushed up the hoody she was wearing enough that Andy could see more of her thighs than he thought she would want, but ultimately it was the soft moan his friends hands elicited from her lips that made him clear his throat as he walked over to the kitchen.

Victoria pulled back, Josh’s hands falling from where they had been exploring her body and pulling the hoody down. “Morning,” she smiled, and Andy couldn’t help but match it.

“You don’t have to stop on my account..” he smirked a little and Josh rolled his eyes, leaning up to place a soft kiss on his girlfriend’s neck before she rounded the counter.

“Coffee?” She offered, refilling her and Josh's mug before she poured some into Andy's, “how are you feeling?”

“Amazing actually,” the redhead grinned, sipping his coffee, “I got my 30 day sober chip yesterday”

“Oh man that’s great, well done.” Josh smiled over the counter and moved to slide his hand along his friends and then fist bump him, a small handshake that the three of them shared that Victoria had never witnessed before.

Andy opened his mouth to respond when he felt a buzz in his pocket. Pulling the phone out, he placed it on the side and gripped the counter in an attempt not to smash it with a rolling pin.

“She still calling you?” Josh glanced down at the phone and Andy nodded, jaw clenched. He knew he had to face the music at some point but how could he when they had been instrumental in his overdose? Of course he had been the one to order the drugs that night, he had been the one to take them, but the previous evenings had been laced with David plying him with cocaine and whiskey.

“You know..” Josh started, hesitating as if he was unsure he should be saying this. “You know you don’t have to go back to that don’t you?”

Andy glanced up at the blonde with confused eyes, “what do you mean?”

“I mean you don’t have to go back to that life. If you think that it’s better for you, we always have a place for you.” Andy's heart felt like it melted at the words. He had been so scared to ask, so worried that he had fucked up everything with his friends that he hadn’t even considered it an option, and the fact that Josh was the one who was offering this was something else. He knew he had treated his friend so badly, and yet here he was still offering him a lifeboat in this horrible storm.

“But the contract..”

“There will be a break clause, surely?” Victoria spoke, moving to sit on the counter and Andy licked his lips momentarily as he remembered having her in that very spot. “Do you have a copy of the contract?”

“Uh.. yeah somewhere in my room.” He nodded and went to retrieve it, returning to find Danny and Juliet in the kitchen staring almost angrily at the phone which just would not stop ringing.

Andy handed the contract to Victoria who sat cross legged on the counter, sipping her coffee and reading. She seemed even more beautiful now that he didn’t have the coke to dull his mind, but what was even more beautiful was the way Josh looked at her. He imagined the blondes expression was much like his own when he had first been with Victoria, except it was far more intense. His best friend was so deeply in love with this woman. How could Andy have ever wanted to hurt him?

“Here—“ Victoria spoke, grabbing the pen attached to the folder and underlining the passage before reading it aloud.

15.1.4 Should the artist wish to cancel this contract due to anything but breach in contract by Fieldworks records, the artist must pay the sum of all previous interactions with Fieldworks subsidiaries and studios, plus the break clause fee of 10% of contract worth.

“What does that mean?” Andy shook his head as he tried to make sense of the words.

“It means you’ll have to pay for whatever you’ve already done with them, plus 10% of the total cost of what they would have spent on you.” Danny shook his head, sleepy eyes not matching his words.

“Fucking hell..” Andy whispered.

“How many studio days did you do with them?” Juliet asked, moving to stand in front of Danny and he wrapped his arms around her as if she was the only thing keeping him awake.

“Uh..” Andy squinted as he tried to remember and shook his head, “it was like every day for… how long was I away?”

“4 months” Josh shook his head, “that’s easily £12,000 on the studio itself and that’s if you were only spending an hour a day..”

“Oh fuck…” Andy sat down and put his head in his hands,rubbing his eyes before he took the contract and started leafing through it “god, I can’t… I can’t go back to that. They literally had lines waiting for me in the recording booth, I know I’m sober but I don’t think I could resist that.”

There was only one option. An option that he really really didn’t want to take.

With a sigh, he picked up his phone and dialled the familiar number.

“Dad? It’s Andy. I need your help.”

“I don’t care if you’ve got the money, I’m not letting you out of this contract,” Cindy shouted down the phone, “I will sue the shit out of you!”

“With all due respect, Cindy was it? My client will not be bullied by you or anyone else at the shambles you call a recording company. We will pay the break clause and you will let us walk away, or you will take us to court and we will get out of this contract for free and you will have to pay us damages. That’s your decision.”

Andy sat with a lawyer in a room at Fieldworks that Juliet had shown them to. It was weird to see her at work considering he had seen her walking around in Danny’s shirt and not much else the night before, and he could tell from the way she eyed him that it was strange to see him here and in a suit.

His dad had characteristically sent a load of cash and a lawyer, had not even acknowledged the subtle mention of rehab. He didn’t know what he was expecting really, had been reminded harshly of the very reason he started taking drugs as his dad began to lecture him about his career to which he put the phone down.

He had had troubles with his father since before he could remember. The man had forced Andy to spend summers away from his friends, spending all six weeks of his holiday helping in the studio so that his dad could further his career in classical music. He had been instrumental in the recordings of all his father’s demos, had even played piano or violin in the background of song of them, yet his father had never so much as thanked him. Whenever Andy would complain about having to spend his summers working his dad would gesture wildly at the apartment and ask him if he wanted to remain living like this. He had guilted him since he was 12 years old into giving up almost all of his spare time and it was ultimately this which had forced him to resent him.

Of course, he still loved music, he was thankful to Danny and Josh for catching him at just the right time in his life to show him that it didn’t have to be all bad. They had played with him in Josh’s garage, had helped him when his dad had been particularly harsh with him at home, and had waited, even in an age where technology couldn’t help people keep in contact, for the redhead to return to California for them to pick up where they left off. His dad had always hated the dangers, hated the music they played and thought it was pointless, so it was a surprise that he even sent a lawyer. Still, he supposed it was better to have a son who was doing what he wanted while tearing away rather than a drug addict pop musician.

Cindy was practically shaking in anger. This wasn’t something that happened normally, she had never had an act pull out of their contract early and she was not happy about it.

“You think you can win against us in court?” She spat, and Andys lawyer let out a small chuckle.

“I assure you that we will.” He slid the cheque across the table and closed the fastenings on his briefcase. “If you wish to take this further, you can contact me directly. You are not to have any further interaction directly with my client.”

Andy couldn’t help but smirk, and he stood up as he adjusted the buttons on his blazer, confidence running through him for the first time since he had been off the coke.

“If you call me, and I mean even one phone call, I’ll be calling him to sue you for obstruction.” The lawyer grabbed Andy’s arm and was pulling him out, the redhead fighting him slightly until he got his point across, “fuck you, and fuck this company.”

He pulled himself together, ignoring the eyes of the others on the floor, sending a quick wink across to Juliet who was chuckling to herself at her computer.

*When Juliet got home that evening, she found the speakers pounding with a sound she had never heard before and Victoria dancing around with a margarita.

“What’s going on?” Juliet spoke with a chuckle, taking a glass from her friend as she threw her bag on the couch.

“Do you like it?” Victoria spoke, motioning to the speakers and Juliet chucked, smiling.

“Yeah, it’s great! Who is it?” Victoria grinned wide and took her friend’s hand, pulling her into the studio.

Josh, Danny and Andy sat in the recording booth, playing together once more.

#wildfire records #aayyyyeeeeeee

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