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damn-stark · 3 years

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Harmless Endeavors

Chapter 4 of Different Light

A/N- I always have so much fun writing these chapters and I especially can’t wait for the next one! Let me know what you thought?! I hope you guys liked the chapter :)

Warning-slight angst, SLOWBURN, typical teenage awkwardness and just a disaster trio starting their new hobby.

Pairing- Harry Potter x Malfoy!reader, Fred Weasley x Malfoy!reader

Takes place during; The Goblet of Fire

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“Alright Malfoy we have a question for you.” George began to probe while he stood beside you.

“Okay,” you muse skeptically, poking your head over the brick barriers between the hall's arches, whilst you gripped onto your wand. “Shoot.”

Fred snickers on your other side and asks their obvious curious question. “Where is Durmstrang exactly?”

“Well, obviously it’s…” you pause and blink as you somehow come out blank. “Well...I,” you gasp as your mind is still unable to recall any sort of direction at all. Everything just comes out blank. “I don’t recall exactly. That’s,” you mumble, “odd.”

Fred and George snicker and give one another a high five behind you after hearing your useless given answer. Finding your bafflement somehow amusing. Because of course they did.

“I told you, Freddie.” George said proudly, “no present, nor past student knows where Durmstrang is.”

“Most likely some type of memory charm,” Fred chimes in with the equal amount of pride as George. “Or maybe just too much dark magic messes with their heads.”

You slowly turn your head to face him and shoot him a pointed glare, causing him to just shrug nonchalantly and smirk. Wanting to remark on your glare, but not doing so as you pulled them both down when you heard the footsteps of your first victims approaching the hall. “Ready?” you whisper as you raise your wand to point it at the hidden floating bucket.

“Ready.” Fred repeated, lifting his wand to point at another bucket, whilst George also did the same, but faltered as he spotted the problem.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Malfoy? It’s your brother coming down the hall.”

Without any sign of hesitation you nod almost enthusiastically, “oh, I’m sure.”

“Okay then,” Fred continued smugly as he poked his head out to get a better view at the passing group which involved Draco, Crabbe and the tiny and snobby Pansy, “in 3,2,1.”

Without a second to spare George cast the flipendo jinx that knocked down a bucket filled with ink so it could drop over the group, while Fred makes a bucket pop out of the floor as fake bricks open like a small door, leaving you to knock down and drop the one behind them. Soaking them from head to toe in ink that made Pansy squeal and the two boys shriek out like little girls.

The whole scene overall making the three of you instantly drop and hide between bushes. Trying with all your might not to reveal yourselves with the laugh that threatened to spill out. Having to distract yourselves with listening to the group whine and grow upset. Draco most of all.

“Come out and show your face! Don’t be a coward!”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from bursting out, not daring to even move a muscle in order to keep yourself hidden.

“Just you wait! You will all get expelled!” Draco bellowed, before he and his group were heard storming down the hall, each second their footsteps echoing further and further away until they were just no more. Finally letting all of you burst out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter that made it hard to breathe. Causing you to gasp for air as you completely slumped to the dirt ground.

“I wish I could’ve…” Fred wheezed, “seen their faces!”

“I-it must’ve been spectacular!” George added excitedly. “Just you wait!” He then mocked, making you laugh much harder, feeling your sides hurt but unable to stop.

“Ah,” you gasped, “that-that was fantastic!”

“You knew didn’t you!” Fred jabbed, “you knew your brother was going to come down that hall. You had it all planned?!”

Once you are able to be somewhat contained, you shrug innocently. “It was just an innocent prank on a couple of passing kids.”

“Sure it was,” George chuckles, “you sneaky little genius.”

You grin smugly and flip your wand in your hand before placing it back inside your robe.

“Well you shouldn't have to hide it, you know we would’ve been down to prank your brother.” Fred adds, “with only your permission of course.”

“Of course,” you mock. “Anyway,” you shrug, “he deserved it, he was an arse.”

George scoffs, “isn’t he always.”

Your smile falters at George’s comment, but it’s just that and nothing else. You don’t let it or want it to affect you because it’s true, even if it feels weird hearing others bad mouth your brother.

Regardless you shrug it off and yet are unable to express anything else after you managed to calm down since down the hall, where Draco and his friends had left, quick multiple footsteps were heard approaching. Causing Fred to grab your hand to pull you with him as he jumped to his feet, meanwhile you grabbed onto George’s hand to pull him. Not daring to wait to see who it could be in case it was Draco coming back to search and snitch with an army of professors.

“Come on,” Fred urged as he tugged your hand and you tugged George’s to break into a sprint down the courtyard. “Let’s go!”

Again the three of you fell into a fit of laughter when you looked over your shoulders and saw Draco had returned, fuming to hopelessly search for the guilty party he was never going to find.

——

It so happened that waiting and searching for Dobby was much harder to find than accidentally bumping into him. And it’s not like you could just say his name and he’ll appear out of thin air anymore, he wasn’t your family’s house elf. So you were forced to pace out the kitchen to wait in the knowledge that he should have gotten the letter by now, there shouldn’t be a reason for him to take so long.

Athena, yours and Draco’s Eagle-Owl was a fast flyer, she wouldn’t have taken that long to deliver the letter after Draco passed it to her. In fact she should be back with a small package or more letters.

Unless...Dobby got caught. No...he couldn’t. The outcomes of that possibility would be out of your control and it would’ve been news you would’ve heard by now. He couldn’t have been caught.

Suddenly your name is uttered loudly down the hall. Followed by small quick footsteps speeding towards you—when you turn around you see Dobby’s little body coming towards you with an envelope half his hands size in his hold, whilst a big beaming smile decorated his features. “I’ve got it! I’ve got what miss Malfoy asked!”

A weight lifts from your shoulders at the sight of the little elf more than at the sight of the letter he carried. You sigh with relief and look down to the elf with a small smile. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“Dobby is very honored, miss Malfoy trusted Dobby with such a task.” The little elf squeals cheekily, “Dobby snatched the letter from the Manor and guarded it with his life for you, miss. And he never got caught!”

“That’s good. I’m so proud of you Dobby.” You beam, making the little elfs smile falter.

But not because he was upset, but because of the emotions he began to feel at your comment. “Miss Malfoy is proud of Dobby? Oh, Dobby is so happy! Here.” He hands you the letter as his eyes gleam with welled up tears. Letting you hand him a small wrapped package that had his name on it. Making the elf get even more emotional as he opened it to find a knitted sweater and a couple of Galleons. “Thank you! Thank you.”

“Thank you, Dobby, you’ve saved my life.” You assure him, glancing at the end of the hall to see more house elfs come out of the kitchen as breakfast was going to be served, “thank you. And I hope that if Draco keeps doing this that I can count on you to do the same? If that’s no trouble?”

“It’s never trouble. Dobby is honored to help.”

“Good,” you nod with a grin before you’re moving past him, “thank you again and I’ll see you again soon!” You wave at Dobby and he waves back. The sight of his little figure is gone as you leave the kitchens and head towards the great hall to join your only two friends for breakfast. Catching them on their usual table with a gap left between them for you to sit, both at the same time catching a glimpse of you before waving you over.

“Where have you been?” George asks while you take your seat.

You shrug and hide your smirk, “busy.”

“Causing trouble so early in the morning, Malfoy?” Fred probes.

You chuckle and serve yourself breakfast, only shaking your head as a non-helpful response to his questioning. Choosing to leave it at that and say nothing else on the regard—knowing if you did let them in to your secret plan, someone around could hear and tell. Destroying your whole plan and leaving you in hot water.

So as for now it would be well not to tell and just leave them in the dark.

All you could do, now, at the moment was enjoy breakfast. You could worry about focusing on rewriting the letter and sending some of your own later.

“....Mom sent me a dress.”

Fred giggles beside you and pulls both yours and George’s attention to focus on his youngest brother.

“Well it does match your eyes,” you hear Harry tease, making you grin and forget the breakfast you were so intent on eating moments ago to focus on the trio causing an amusing scene; “is there a bonnet?” Harry reaches to pull the exact item of clothing from the box, “aha!” Harry grins cheekily, making Ron roll his eyes and dismiss his friend's comment.

“Nose down Harry,” Ron takes the odd, ghastly looking robe to his sister. “Ginny these must be for you.”

From the side of the table you’re sat on, you couldn’t see the youngest Weasleys exact facial reaction, but by the obvious disgust in her tone you could tell it was just as her voice was heard. “I’m not wearing that, it's ghastly.”

You giggle along with the rest of the students, noticing Ron’s unfocused gaze as he walks back after he hears Hermione giggling. “What are you on about?”

Hermione giggles, “they’re not for Ginny. They’re for you.”

The twins as well as you and the group of students paying attention to the interaction burst into a louder teasing laugh, continuing on as the explanation continued—“dress robes!”

“Dress robes?!” Ron snaps back as his eyebrows knit together and his nose scrunches up, “for what?!”

You chuckle and add a long time knowing answer to his question, “the Yule ball of course!”

——

“The Yule ball is approaching—a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests.” Snape announces to the house of Slytherins in such an unbothered and monotone way, “the ball will only be open for fourth years and above. Of course you may invite a younger student only if you may want to.”

Of course you knew like the many times before, what was to come for this school year, but that still didn’t excuse your gut wrenching nerves that knotted your stomach at the thought of such an important event. The main reason being who would ask you, or really if anyone would?

Of course you could ask someone; and you could see some people already looking at you as Professor Snape announced the event, but you didn’t really wish to go with any. Not to be cruel really, but the reason being, was that you didn’t really wish to actually go with anyone from Slytherin house. Not only because you didn’t know a soul personally but well...it was just that. You wanted to go with someone you did know—which wasn’t a lot of students, but you still hoped really.

“Dress robes will be worn,” Professor Snape continued stiffly, “and the ball will start at eight o’clock on Christmas Day. No later. It will finish at Midnight, so please no late arrivals. And of course.” Professor Snape cleared his throat as he looked to the crowd of older Slytherins, “I will expect Slytherin to behave and not act like wild animals. If I catch anyone out of hand I will take points. So act decent if you want to win the house cup at the end of the year. Okay? Everyone up and to the center of the room!”

——

“...I’m so glad to hear that you’re enjoying your school year at Hogwarts. However I’m saddened by the fact that I won’t get to spend Christmas with Draco and you this year, it’ll be odd having the house so alone in such a wonderful Holiday, but I know you two will be up to far more exciting things with the Yule Ball approaching. I can't wait to hear all about it and who you’ll go with, so please as soon as someone asks you, write to me! I’ll be waiting with so much anticipation. I miss you and I hope we see one another soon.

Love, Narcissa

Of course in that small detail of the letter where Narcissa says to write her as soon as someones asked you, she left out that part that it couldn’t be just anyone—No mud-bloods, nor blood traitors. Especially no, Mud-bloods! That’s key. Your father would most likely come to the school and grab you by the ear to take you back home.

Perhaps it was good that no one has asked you. Saved you a bunch of unnecessary problems.

Like you would care regardless.

“Are you done with the letter yet?” You question Draco as you walk behind him on the chair to hit the top of his head with the couple of envelopes in your hand.

He winced like the dramatic boy he was and threw his arm back to hand you the wanted item, adding as always a comment. “But don’t read it! I’ll know if you do.”

You snicker and walk back towards the door, “why? Got some special news to tell mummy that you don’t want me to know about?” You smirk, “like how you got supposedly bathed in ink?” You do air quotes with your fingers and try to surpass the fit of laughter that threatened to burst out.

Draco snapped his body to face you so quickly that you’d thought it’d just crack in half. “It’s true! You just didn’t see it because it was invisible ink to everyone else!”

You offer a narrowed gaze and a mischievous smirk he didn’t understand the meaning of—or else he would’ve turned crimson. “Okay,” you shrug casually, “invisible ink? Whatever you say.”

Draco’s face scrunches up and he throws you a pillow that luckily doesn’t hit you as you shut the door in time. Albeit you don’t fail to laugh. Receiving odd looks from passing students was the only thing that made you hold your laughter and bite your tongue from going hysterical.

If only Draco knew. If only he knew.

“Y/N!”

Suddenly your attention perks up as you hear your name called out behind you. When you turn you see only one Weasley twin; which going by the hair and how it kind of swooped at the tips, it was Fred.

You smile and stop so he could catch up, “hello, Fred. Long time no see.”

He laughs softly and runs his fingers through his hair, stealing glances at you as he begins to walk with you. “So what do you think about the Yule ball? Get asked yet?”

You shake your head and purse your lips, “nope not yet, but I do see some boys following me at times throughout the day and stare at me as if I’m some shiny toy.”

Fred puts his hands in his pockets and grins, “maybe they’re scared of you.”

You chuckle and spin to face him, walking back as he walked forward to joke along. “Is it my hair? Or do you think they know we're trouble? Or is it my family name?” You giggle, “maybe I’m just too funny for them, hmm? My jokes are too grande for them.”

“Ahh,” Fred teases with a goofy grin, “that’s it. They just don’t understand those hysterical jokes and the mindless pranks you hide in their morning pumpkin juice.”

You snort and playfully hit his chest before you fall back at his side, wanting to add something but cut off as Fred continued.

“Well now that we’re on that topic of dates, I wanted to ask if you’d go with me?”

Suddenly your stomach drops and your heart goes wild like a kid on a sugar high. Your smile drops but it picks up again, going in that nervous routine for a couple of seconds until you stop and make Fred stop to fully face you.

“You want to go with me?” That was a stupid question, but it just came out. Why didn’t you ever think of the twins?

Maybe because you thought they wouldn’t ask. Especially not Fred since you’d see him talk to his friend Angelina at times before George and him would join your side. You’d thought he’d ask her instead.

Guess you stand strongly uncorrected.

Fred chortles, “of course that’s why I asked.”

“Oh,” you feel your cheeks burn and your wrist begins to ache as the habit to nervously rub it annoyingly ticks at your brain. “Well, yeah I’d love it to.”

Fred’s grin widens and goes somewhere between cocky and flustered, but he hides it well with a cool nod. “Alright then can’t wait, I’ll see you later.” He begins to walk back as you do too, continuing to your previous path.

A shy smile grows on your lips and you wave at him like a dork, not seeming to keep your eyes off each other until you both turn to your destined halls. Causing your overly giddy grin to last until you reached the top of the Owlery. Dropping your smile to a small faint one as you offered it to a girl in your same year, Cho Chang as she passed by you on the snow covered stairs.

Moments after, your mind hardly paid attention to what was going on around you as you focused on the ice and snow.

Because of that causing your body to almost collide into Harry.

“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry.” You excuse yourself as your smile falls and your cheeks tingle with a threatening warmth. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

Said boy giggles nervously and sways from side to side like an awkward dance as you both try to go past each other.

It’s not until you grab his shoulders to turn him to where he was headed does the funny interaction stop, and you’re left standing awkwardly for a few moments until he waves goodbye, followed by a soft departing word too. Letting you think that was it, but standing strongly uncorrected again.

“Y/N!”

You turn back on your heels and your eyebrows lift as you answer back, “yeah?”

“Uhmm,” he swallows thickly, “Wangoballwime?”

Your eyebrows knit together like your stomach does, but both for entirely different reasons. “Huh? Sorry I didn’t quite get that.”

Harry shoves his hands in his pockets and his eyes bounce all around your face, an obvious rosy tint growing on his cheeks and neck—for cold reasons or different you couldn’t quite understand. “Uhm, I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to go to the ball with me?” He spoke slowly and clearly this time, causing your eyes to widen and your face to burn.

You could your heart rush again, or maybe this time much quicker, but it did. It was going to just burst out. While also this time you couldn’t help but nervously rub your wrist. Forcing yourself to answer with the disappointing truth—for him anyway. “Oh, uhm, Harry I’m sorry, but someone’s already asked me.” You reveal with a hurt look, “and I said I’d go, sorry.”

Harry rips his hands out of his pockets and nods whilst he answers in the most assuring way possible. “Okay, yeah, great no problem. Okay, good.”

You offer him an apologetic smile and watch him walk back until you call to him, “Harry.”

At the call he runs back and waits.

“I really am,” you assure him shyly, “sorry.”

“Well that’s okay.” Harry reassures you, saying nothing to let your gazes linger until he bursted out with a question. “Who’re you going with?”

“Fred,” you smile sweetly, “Fred Weasley.”

Tagged- @peter-laufeyson , @swiftlymoniquesblog , @spideyyypeter , @gsvshsjsbs @accio-prozac , @cherriesanwine @kokomaesadie , @april-14-blog, @prettypinkpeachh

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thejudgingtrash · 3 years

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Can you explain to me how Rachel was annoying in the series?

Well, I’ll try to keep myself short for this one (lol no, this took an hour to write). Also, let’s not forget that they’re all kids, but I’m basing this off from when I read the series as a fourteen year old because my opinions haven’t changed much (for better or for worse).

I’m not the biggest fan of Rachel. I have to admit that portrayals of her by Simi, Kit, Logan, Apollo and all the others helped to shape her into something cooler than what she had been in my foggy memories but I actually went back to take a look in the books (well, TTC + BOTL so far) to refreshen my mind about events that have happened.

Also, you should browse through @blackjacktheboss's blog as she’s a) hilarious and b) says whatever I say in like a single sentence lol. But your ask is about me and my opinions so here we go:

What I didn’t like about Rachel was that she’s rude and bold (DON’T GET ME WRONG, I love that in female characters!!!), but she doesn’t have Annabeth’s excuse of survival of the fittest (literally running off as a traumatized seven year old) and introducing us into the world of the Riordanverse.

Percy was on his way, had shit to deal with and Rachel pretty much interrupted him from the get-go and thought getting her answers was more important than letting Percy just rush forward. Yes, this is Rachel’s entrance into the series and the net Riordan threw into the sea, to make us little fish adapt to her. But it still didn’t sit right with me, probably because I would never interact that way.

I get why she did that, but it’s the way how she did it that’s just making me go ???

Even if I was seeing weird things, I wouldn’t set out to distract/interrupt someone who is incredibly busy to get my way. Rachel’s dick move seems like a Karen boomer type of thing to pull off, but guess that’s up to you.

If I were her, I’d either film/try to photograph the monsters via phone (if that’s possible) or internet stalk enough to find the other person (note: despite Riordan’s stupid rule of not being able to use phones, demigods still can use computers/the internet, I guess). Percy was national news like a year or two ago in the timeline, so it shouldn’t be that difficult to find more stuff out about him, even in like 2008 or so. Let him have a spot on Perez Hilton's shitty gossip blog, for the OGs reading this.

Annabeth was used as a tool of exposition to introduce us to CHB, the demigod life and how things roll around there. She barged into Percy’s mission as a nuisance first but a necessity second in TLT.

However, in comparison to Rachel, Annabeth was transformed into a fully-fledged protagonist within a span of a chapter or two. Rachel needed another separate book after her first appearance, so we don’t just know Annabeth better, we know that she’s an important constant throughout the story as of Rachel seems… almost random? Is she truly necessary as a character?

This doesn’t come from a shipper perspective, this is coming from a character design perspective and adds to the feeling that the way she has been introduced to me as a reader just seems off.

Yes, BOTL makes sense with her as a reborn Ariadne, but technically Sally could’ve done the job as she’s a clear-sighted mortal as well lol. Then again, Sally is an adult, went to college, had a job, was unfortunately probably working it up with Paul, did the cha cha slide with him and had overall better shit to do.

Then Rachel as the oracle, which is just super weird in general. Wasn’t Apollo himself responsible for issuing prophecies in the OG myths? Or did he both, have the oracle of Delphi as his spokesperson and issue important stuff to Team Olympus? Am I mixing things up? I’m getting sidetracked, my bad.

Either way, this oracle gig might be the only time I’d say Rachel might be important in the future (badum tzz), but Riordan fumbled the bag in the follow ups series so there’s that. Did she even appear in HOO? Can’t remember and also don’t care.

Rachel is used as one out of three choices in regard to his love life that Percy can make. Calypso literally got introduced into BOTL and was admittedly Percy’s biggest what if… But the general gist doesn’t sit right with me. We have three possible routes with Percy and the others:

Rachel: somewhat normality in the mortal realm

Annabeth: the danger and thrill of the demigod life

Calypso: ambrosia and nectar. a hint of immortality

(On one hand, literally why but on the other hand, mad props for Percy who has literally three romantic leads in the same book.) I’d cancel one of them at least out and since Annabeth isn’t going anywhere, I’m taking Rachel. Sally could literally been Percy’s anchor to a normal mortal life as she had intended until it didn’t work out anymore when he became twelve and his monster alerting scent grew stronger.

Calypso and Annabeth would’ve been the perfect opposites where each of them had a strong case. The demigod life within the realms or mortal or the demigod life ascending to Olympus/immortality. Sounds cooler and is way simpler. Three people is way too much, this truly feels like a shonen anime harem thing and it’s defo not my cup of tea (and while some Annabeth sideships aren’t my thing (Lukabeth go cry in the corner, no one likes you, WTF, Connabeth you fugly), it’s super unfair that Annabeth solely has Percy (fuck off Luke) to rely on in regards of romantic endeavors).

Rachel almost feels redundant? The option to walk away from all of that… which isn’t really true as Rachel really tries to push and insert herself into the story the very first time we meet her? But that’s just me, I’m certain that others are saying they’d kill off Annabeth or kick Calypso (I mean yeah) into the curb.

Big ALSO:

Why does Percy need another white and uber-rich love interest?

I semi-joked on Dez’ post (@sawasawako) with this response about Annabeth needing to keep up with powerful Rachel, but the core still stands.

We already have an affluent Annabeth (granted, we don’t know exactly how the Chase’s riches are divided, whereas it’s clear that Rachel can just make anyone drop dead by saying who she is. Annabeth needed that weird lotus casino credit card to make that happen, so Miss Harvard Legacy doesn’t wield that Dare schmoney. Also don’t think Annabeth can just up papa’s money and go…? Idk).

Why do we need another person needing to upstage this?

Like Rachel has to triumph in regards to standard and prestige as if it were a badly written Jane Austen AU. For what reason…? Why not make Percy friends and acquaintances with someone who comes from a normal household for once, not super rich brats (Piper, Annabeth, Rachel, technically the Graces with their TV starlet mother amongst others).

Moreover…

Important question: why should Percy actually be impressed/attracted to that? He’s dirt poor and has been sent to (boarding) schools filled with stupid rich people since he’s been twelve, probably even younger than that. As if that’s the very first thing Percy would look out for or be wowed or something. He’s used to rich douchebags. I think he’s more surprised that someone used their money for his benefit for once and not to crash daddy’s new Mercedes again.

Like seriously… Rachel did that weird art project thing in BOTL with her covered in gold and posing like it’s a super normal thing to do? Even for rich snobbish kids standards? That sounds weird to me. I don’t know, maybe Riordan’s been streaming the new Gossip Girl reboot on HBO Max on repeat and thought this girl is on fiyah (performed by Alicia Keys).

Rachel trying to separate herself from her money just comes off as super hypocritical when she’s using the very same funds to finance her lifestyle. I get it, trying to make amends and make a difference with the damage you have done but... your father still doesn't give a shit about the environment or YOU, sweetie. Kick him in the balls for once! Then you can go out about your art projects.

The concept of Percy having friends in the mortal realm is cool, but why does Rachel almost have to compete with Annabeth with her wealth and art stuff?

No seriously, the comparisons are constantly there, out and about. Roaming freely on the finest grass, needing to be feed delicious locally sourced carrots and stuff.

Annabeth is Athena’s kid. Athena is the goddess of wisdom, weaving, justice, warfare yada yada and arts and crafts. So definitely something which would affect Rachel, right (someone write that Athena messing with Rachel because she can AU and tag me please!)?

Annabeth wants to become an architect which translates to fancy building designer who is driving engineers like Leonardo Eugenio Valdez Cortes insane irl because the maths and physics don't work like that in the working field trust me I'm an engineer, which could/should be considered an art form.

They even shared some common ground while talking about architecture and design in BOTL!

Furthermore, they both share broken homes with absent parents (granted that all demigods go through that). Wealthy families at that as well. Shitty fathers that don’t care about their daughters well-being. Rachel however, is super powerful and influential in an unseen level in the mortal world. She isn’t like Matt Sloan (?) who truly messes up by destroying shit to get his father's attention, but she’s still in that circle and can easily demonstrate that. Making deals with her father and what not. We rarely see Annabeth doing that. Did y’all forget the fucking helicopter Rachel brought along in TLO?

Pan saying Rachel is just as important as her father has multiple meanings to me…

(Sidenote: I do think it’s hilarious that Annabeth is jealous/annoyed of Rachel that her remarks were she’s cute right and Percy went??? Or when Tyson said Rachel’s pretty? Or that time when Annabeth actually defended Luke and his weird behavior (because Kronos was slowly taking over, don’t forget that kids!), because f that rich artist nepotism kid that Rachel seems to be, right?)

Another note: Percy thinks Rachel is annoying in BOTL for a while and it took a while for him to admit that and he spent way more time being annoyed/jealous (for once, Lordy) at Luke for him to even notice lol.

I guess it’s really hard for me to exactly pinpoint what’s bothering me. I believe Rachel's persona just doesn’t seem to hit right, because it feels like a knock-off Annabeth who just simply isn’t a demigod, yet has two cool powers, but in even richer who still needs to be part of the story for exactly what reason?

The jumping around from the richest in the series to the poorest in the series is kinda bothering me as if the middle class doesn’t exist, like I’ve stated earlier. Why didn’t Riordan mix it up with Rachel, giving her more nuance the minute they met, not towards the end? Have her be Percy’s platonic friend from the get go. No weird oh wait she is kinda cute in the middle bullshit.

This kinda drifted more into a Perachel vs Percabeth essay, which really wasn’t my intention. Don’t worry kids, I’m criticizing Annabeth (and her stans) enough already.

And I do think that others in the fandom have softened my views on Rachel as a person like I’ve stated in the beginning. So friendship!Perachel is popping! But I do think that there are some valid points that I’ve made.

Also not gonna lie, Rachel issuing the new prophecy in TLO kinda dampened the end of PJO series but that’s more Riordan’s fault than hers.

TLDR: I’m just not a huge fan of this overbearing, uber-rich, excessively flaunting being that Rachel sometimes displays. She’s flawed, she’s broken at times, has a semi-interesting background story (although it has been done over and over again throughout the series and should be changed up for once) which is great, but it is still annoying.

We don’t need an anti-Annabeth who feels like a weird caricature of the real Annabeth.

Also if this seems super incoherent, repetitive, or whatever, I'm sorry, massive headaches + mental health going down the goo lagoon does this to ya, I hope I made somewhat sense!

#Mel answers #pjo #percy jackson #rachel elizabeth dare #rachel dare #Annabeth chase #percabeth #pjo Meta #percy jackson and the olympians #pjato #ttc #botl #tlo

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rdmdani · 4 years

Text

Andante, Andante [SMUT]

word count: 4122

WARNING: SMUT

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After being seconds away from plummeting to your death in the Washington Monument, you were constantly on edge. Peter saved you in the nick of time, but there was still that feeling of pure panic coursing through your body the remainder of the day. Ned and MJ stood very close to you after the incident, seeing how anxious you were acting. Whenever someone would come up to you to interview about your near-death experience, MJ quickly shut them down while Ned held onto you. MJ was one of the only people who knew about your fear of heights. She even tried to talk you out of going up the monument. However Ned pleaded with you, saying he didn’t want to go alone. So you joined him… and quickly came to regret it.

When you got back to the hotel, Peter was sitting in your room waiting for you to come back. You smiled sadly, dropping your bag onto the ground and walking over to him, “Hug me please?”

Peter responded immediately, opening up his arms for you to walk into them. With a heavy sigh he pulled you into his lap, running his fingers through your hair calmingly, “You know I wish I could’ve stayed with you right?”

You nodded, snuggling yourself further into his neck, “I know… I get it.”

“There was nothing more that I wanted to do than to be there for you, but it’s more dangerous if people find out who I am,” he sighed, kissing the side of your head gingerly, “The last thing I want is for you to get hurt.”

You didn’t reply, you just let him hold you. MJ may have been one of the only to know of your fear, but Peter was the only one who knew why you feared it. When you were little, you watched as your sister took one too many steps off the edge of the roof at your old apartment. The two of you were playing tag. You went for her, but she jumped back. The back of her legs bumped into the edge of the railing, but it didn’t stop it. It tilted her body, sending her head first to the sidewalk underneath. For two weeks you couldn’t leave the house without seeing pieces of your sister. Ever since then, heights sent you into major panic and breakdowns. Peter is the only person who knows you were there when she fell. You didn’t even tell your parents about it. How could you? To you, it felt like it was all your fault.

“Are you feeling okay?” Peter asked soothingly, his hand rubbing up and down your back slowly. You let out a shaky breath and nodded.

“I’ll be okay, I promise,” you assured him. You pulled back a little but the second that Peter saw the tears brimming your eyes he pulled you straight back towards him. You laughed humorlessly, a short sob breaking through it, “I’m sorry I was trying not too.”

“Never apologize to me because you have feelings,” Peter shushed you before pressing another tender kiss to your temple, “It’ll be okay. I promise everything is okay. Do you want me to go get something to eat?”

You shook your head, “No I’m okay. I think I might just go to bed.”

Peter nodded before slowly releasing you, “Okay. I can come back in the morning. You can call me if you need me and I’ll be here as quickly as possible.”

“Actually,” you said slowly, holding tightly onto Peter’s wrist. He looked down at you but your eyes never left the floor, “I was hoping that you’d stay in here with me tonight? I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep otherwise.”

Peter stammered for a moment, unable to answer. So insecurity began to rise, causing you to speak once more, “I mean you don’t have to. I can see if MJ c-”

“No,” Peter said quickly, causing a small smile to rise on your lips, “I’ll stay. I’ll need to swing by my room to get a pillow though if that’s okay?”

“Or you could stay in the bed?”

“Th-” Peter’s voice broke out significantly higher than usually, but after clearing his throat he sounded normal again, “That would work too.”

You smiled at him, “I’m going to change. I’ll be right back.”

Peter watched you walk towards the bathroom with a look of pure surprise. He was going to share a bed with you. He was going to sleep in the same bed as a girl he has always believed was incredibly attractive. Peter looked around awkwardly, not knowing exactly what to do. Should he change? Should he just wear jeans to bed? What side would she want?

“You wearing that?” he heard from behind him. When he turned he saw you standing there in shorts and a shirt he recognized as his own.

“When did you take that?” Peter laughed, pointing towards the shirt.

“Two years ago, you were staying with Ned one night. My parents were fighting really bad, so I went to see Aunt May,” you explained, nearing Peter, “I ended up staying the night with her. She let me borrow some of your clothes. I think she knew that I liked you. But I ended up stealing this shirt.”

“You liked me?”

“If I were being honest,” you spoke slowly as you came to a stop in front of him, keeping eye contact the entire time, “I still do.”

“You do?” Peter asked with a giddy smile, his eyes roaming your body for a short moment. You nodded, redirecting your attention to the floor. Peter grinned before reaching forward and grabbing hold of your hand and pulling you closer to him, “Well that’s a relief. I thought it was one sided.”

You looked up at him shyly, “It definitely isn’t.”

“Thank God,” he whispered, his eyes flickering down to your lips a few times before bending down and pressing his lips against yours tightly.

His hand left yours, instead wrapping itself around your back and pulling you closer into him. You could feel his smile against your lips and he felt yours too. Your hands trailed up the sides of his arms into his hair, tugging gently on the roots. You wanted more. Right now every single nerve in your body was shooting distress signals all at once. Chill bumps shot to attention under the feeling of his skin against yours. Hair stood on its ends. Every bit of your body was shooting with electricity and the more his body is pressed against yours, the more friction grows and the needier you become. There was something about him, about the way his lips were so soft yet so demanding against yours that made you wonder how they would feel against other sections of your body. Against every section of your body.

“Peter,” you mumbled against his lips. Immediately he detached himself, looking down at you with worry. You could see the way he looked at you, wondering if he had overstepped or if he had messed up. But you just smiled, “I want to try something else if you’re okay with that?”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, “What do you-” but before he could continue his question, you took hold of his hands and guided them to the hem of your shirt, gesturing to him to remove it. He looked into your eyes, “Are you sure?”

“Most definitely.”

Peter hesitantly lifted the shirt off your body, his eyes never leaving yours in case there was any spark of uncertainty. But it never showed. Peter dropped the shirt onto the floor beside you, finally taking a moment to admire your body. His lips stayed parted as he stood there and took in the sight of your body. He took his time in memorizing each and every curve, dimple, and stretch mark. Every beautiful aspect of your body became another bullet to add to the list of things that he loves about you.

“Peter?” you asked worriedly, insecurity suddenly invading your mind. You instinctively raised your arms to cover yourself but Peter’s hand shot out and held them, stopping you from hiding yourself.

“Don’t,” he said sternly, his eyes finally meeting yours once more, “You’re beautiful. You’re absolutely stunning, Y/N. I just wanted a moment to memorize it.” Your face turned bright red at his words. You didn’t believe you were those things, but Peter said it with such certainty that it must have been. So you once again uncovered yourself, allowing him a moment to see you. Peter smiled down at you, “Actually, I’m finished for now.”

His hands once again roamed your body. Bumps formed and followed after his moving hands, spreading tingles across your bare body. His lips were pressed against yours, both moving at a slow pace. But then they trailed away, down your cheek and across your jawline. Kisses were lightly peppered down your neck, causing your head to lull to the side with pleasure. As your head began to dip backwards, his hands trailed up your arms and into your hair, tugging it down to expose more of your flesh to him. His kisses went slower, almost agonizingly so, causing little moans to rumble out your throat.

“God,” Peter growled against your neck. You could feel his teeth scraping against your sensitive skin, “Get prepared to do that all night.”

Your eyes widened at his words, not expecting him to say something like that. It wasn’t like you were going to complain either. Honestly, you liked it. A lot. But you didn’t have much time to think about it because Peter ended up lifting you up onto his hips and turning your back to the bed and laying you down. You watched in awe as Peter straightened back up for just enough time to yank off his shirt before lowering his body against yours. His hands immediately found the underside of your knee, yanking it up against his side as he kissed your lips. He grinded against you slowly, causing you to desperately grasp onto his hair.

“Y/N,” Peter breathed out against your lips, you pulled back and looked at him, “Babygirl, I want you on top.” You felt your heart begin to beat faster at his words, especially the nickname. You were pretty sure that he could easily talk you into homicide by calling you that. You nodded unsurely at him, “Don’t worry. If you ever get uncomfortable we can always stop or switch back. Don’t be shy to tell me, okay?”

You nodded at him, a bigger blush coming onto your face as he lifted you onto his hips with ease. Peter didn’t stop for a moment. The second that you were set back down, he kept himself propped up enough with the hotel pillows to take hold of your cheek and guide your lips towards his. He used his free hand rest on your hip, using slow motions to instruct you to grind against him. There was something about his total change in character that had you completely smitten to him. One second Peter was sweet, innocent, and cute… and now he was causing sensations throughout your body that not even you knew were possible.

Peter’s hand on your hip eventually began to leave its spot. You could feet the ghost of his fingertips nearing your bra straps. A swarm of chills erupted on the middle of your back when his fingers finally were placed. At first you thought that he was just going to undo the straps, but instead he pulled his lips away from yours, “Can I?” he asked you seriously, looking into your eye for any doubt or discomfort.

“Please,” you said in a small voice, causing a dirty smirk to grace his lips. You felt your stomach spinning at the way Peter, who is always so sweet and innocent, just looked at you with so much lust it almost felt pornographic on its own. Your legs slightly squeezed together at the feeling, alerting Peter of his effect on you. His smirk only grew at the realization.

“Please what?” he asked you teasingly, his eyes flicking down to your lips.

“I don’t know,” you whined loudly, squirming uncomfortably on his lap, “Please just do something.”

Seeming satisfied with your answer, Peter unclipped your bra with ease and threw it across the room. Then, in one quick movement, Peter had you pressed against the mattress with his lips assaulting your neck. Your mouth shot open into an ‘o’ position, lusty whines filling the air. Peter greedily massaged your breasts with one hand while the other stayed clenching onto the mattress as if he was struggling to keep himself from losing control. Your hands tugged on his hair harshly, unable to stop your body from shaking underneath his touch. Feeling the way his hips were rocking against yours and feeling the pressure of his bulge slowly pressing itself against your sensitive core, they were driving you absolutely nuts.

“I need more,” you pleaded with him, your nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders, “Please I can’t take anymore.”

Peter shushed you, “Be patient with me, babygirl.”

Your breathing quickened at the name. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to hear him call you that while pressing himself into you. The last thing you wanted to be was patient, and you weren’t going to just sit there and be obedient when you knew what you wanted.

“I don’t want to be patient,” you sassed out sternly, looking up at him with pouted lips. Peter watched you with an amused grin.

“It’s funny how you think you’re in charge,” Peter whispered darkly against your ear, “Now be a good girl and be patient. You know, or we can just go to bed?”

“No please,” you jumped, “Don’t stop. I’ll be good. I promise.”

Peter nodded with a satisfied grin but didn't say anything else. Instead he lowers his body onto yours once more, his lips hungrily catching yours. You didn’t waste a single second in kissing him back, letting every emotion you were feeling seep into him with every desperate embrace. Peter’s fingers crept underneath the waistband of your shorts and underwear, slowly sliding them down your thighs until you were able to kick them off onto the floor. You thought that he would go to undo his own pants, but instead you felt the pad of his thumb press against your heat. Instantly you pressed your arms against his shoulders, causing Peter to retract his hand quickly and look at you with worry.

“I’m... I’m sorry,” you forced out, trying your best to level your breathing, “I don’t think… I mean, I do-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Peter comforted you, “You’re not ready for that part. It’s okay. Just tell me what you are comfortable with, tell me what it is you want to happen. Or if you want us to stop, we can stop right now. I’ll go buy some dinner and we can watch Netflix.”

“I don’t want to stop,” you assured him, “I want you to do something else…”

Peter nodded, “We can do that…”

“Did you bring… you know?”

Peter’s eyes shot open for a moment. He totally forgot. The two of you looked at each other for a moment, completely unsure of how to go from here. It took a moment but then Peter’s head shot up, “I know where I can get one though.”

You immediately knew what he was talking about, causing a groan to escape your lips, “Flash.”

“I don’t care if the whole world knows what we’re about to do,” Peter told you with a smile, “But I don’t know how you feel about it. I can get one from him, but there is no guarantee he will keep it to himself.”

For a moment you thought about this, about what each decision would cost. Getting protection from Flash would mean everyone knowing that you and Peter had sex, or at least planned to. Not getting the protection meant that the two of you stayed off the radar for a while. It also meant no sex right now.

Honestly, you didn’t mind everyone knowing. At least this way it meant that everyone knew Peter was taken from now on.

“You want to ask him or me?”

Peter looked at you with surprise, “Really? You don’t mind everyone knowing?”

“I’d rather people knew that you were taken.”

“Okay. You,” he said before wetting his bottom lip, “Don’t move an inch. I’ll be right back.”

You watched as Peter stumbled out of the room as quickly as possible. His hair was disheveled and he was not wearing a shirt, plus his back was already littered in an array of scratches. Not enough though, you were planning on adding a lot more.

Peter stumbled through the halls until he reached the room that Flash was staying in. He tried to knock on the door at a normal volume and pace, but something about the fact that in his room there was a very attractive and very naked girl waiting in the bed for him kind of made it a little harder and faster than he had intended. So when Flash opened the door, he looked at Peter in alarm.

“What do you want?” Flash asked Peter with an annoyed sigh.

Peter didn’t have time to argue with Flash, so he spoke as clearly as he can, “Flash, I will give you ten dollars for a condom right now. You can mock and ask questions or whatever all day tomorrow but right now I need you to just hand me it and let me go.”

Flash stared at Peter for a moment before bursting out laughing, “Oh my god. What poor desperate chick did you convince to sleep with you?”

“I will tell you if you give me a condom, I promise I answer just about any question you have if you hand me the condom.”

Flash laughed and fished two condoms out of his pocket before slapping them into Peter’s palm, “Alright now spill.”

“Can’t talk now,” Peter said before turning around and rushing back to the room, “Thanks!”

Flash watched in awe as Peter ran into your room, realization hitting him immediately.

“Damn Parker,” Flash muttered as he closed the door, “First time I’ll admit I’m jealous of the dude.”

You watched as Peter ran into the room with two sealed packets in his hands. Without missing a beat, Peter ripped off his jeans and underwear before sliding the condom onto himself. You watched him with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. Peter finished and walked over to you, taking hold of your feet and pulling you towards him. You yelped in surprise but it was quickly stifled by Peter’s mouth once again entrapping yours. One of his hands desperately ran through your hair, curling it into his fist and pulling you down against the bed slowly. His body followed yours until your back was completely laid against the mattress. When you were laid down fully, Peter used his free hand to cradle your ass and push you further up on the bed. Once he made enough room on the bed for him to join you, he coaxed your legs to open wide enough to shape against his body. When he was satisfied with the distance, he climbed onto the bed above you, breaking the kiss momentarily.

“Before I do this,” Peter said seriously, “I want to make sure that this is what you want.”

“It is, Peter,” you said again, “I promise you I want this.”

Peter nodded, “If it hurts or you feel like you want to stop, please tell me.”

“I promise I will,” you assured him, leaning forward to press a kiss against Peter’s lips.

Peter nodded, continuing with his actions. He kept his eyes on your face as he slowly entered you. He watched as your eyes screwed shut, how your lips parted and became almost instantly dry. He listened to the little sounds that escaped your lips, the high pitched breathy moans that fought their way out past your lips. He felt the way your back arched at the immense pleasure taking over your body. And he was falling in love with it all.

“More,” you whimpered out to him. Peter responded immediately, slowly thrusting in and out of you. He held on tightly to the headboard of the bed, watching your facial expressions morph into unadulterated euphoria with each thrust. Peter’s control over his body was slowly fading away. He didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to keep himself at this pace, but he didn’t want to be too rough with you. Peter kept himself on a steady rhythm, doing his best to keep himself from hurting her. But when her eyes opened and rolled back into her skull, Peter lost it for just a second. He thrusted a bit harder than he meant to which caused you to clench yourself around him in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Peter wanted to apologize but the second he resumed his normal pace, you lustfully grabbed at Peter, trying to pull him into you.

“Faster,” you cried out, “Please. Stop holding back.”

Peter wanted to argue with you, but he heard the way you begged him. You were one hundred percent serious. So Peter did as you asked and eased his way towards a faster pace. You were a moaning mess underneath the boy, unable to control any of your body as it convulsed with pleasure. You had never felt something like this before.

“I want on top,” you panted to him. Peter didn’t argue for a second before flipping the two of you around. You eased yourself down onto him, a strangled moan forcing itself out of your mouth. Peter watched you once more as you began slowly rocking your hips, taking control of the pace. At first you were slow, almost unsure, but as you grew used to the sensation it became a lot faster.

“God you look so hot right now, babygirl.”

At his words you felt your orgasm coming near. Feeling the knot forming in your stomach caused you to release a loud moan, “Please keep calling me that.”

Peter smirked at your request, “You like that, babygirl?”

You couldn’t reply, the feeling taking over your body was too strong. Peter felt himself nearing as well, so he wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted you up slightly, “Tell me how you like this then, babygirl.”

Without leaving anytime for you to wonder what was going to happen, Peter began to quickly thrust himself into you. The feeling hit you all at once, causing you to scream out in pleasure. Peter listened to the sound of you coming undone in his arms, feeling himself getting closer to the edge.

“Cum for me, babygirl,” Peter instructed you, not lessening his pace even for a moment. You nodded, feeling the knot inside of you begging to burst. Peter thrusted a single giant thrust, succeeding in sending you both over the edge. Peter held you tightly, helping you ride out your highs together. You moaned out incoherent words and sentences, but the one thing that he could understand was that you were screaming out Peter’s name. If Flash hadn’t told everyone already, then they definitely knew now. Once your moans turned into just heavy breathing, Peter slowly lifted you off of his lap and laid you gently on the bed beside him. Seeing as it was your first time there was a bit of blood that had seeped into the sheets. You looked up at Peter sheepishly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “We can go get different sheets?”

“It’ll be okay for tonight,” Peter assured you, leaning over and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. He got off of the bed for a moment to clean himself up before coming over to the side of the bed you were laying across, “I know you’re probably hurting right now. So how about I run you a hot bath? I can either help you bathe or I can wait out here. It’s up to you.”

You smiled sheepishly, “We could both use a bath, don’t you think?”

Peter laughed and nodded, “Alright. I’ll start the bath. Do not move an inch.”

You rolled over onto your side, watching as Peter walked into the bathroom. You never thought much into what your first time would be like. But if you had, it would be this. Everything about what just happened was perfect. And you wanted to do it again.

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beewolfwrites · 3 years

Text

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Eight: Mad to Live, Mad to Talk

The eighth instalment of my Chishiya x OC/reader fic - you can find it here on AO3 too.

Thank you to the people who always leave likes and comments, seeing/reading them honestly makes my day :) xx

As for what I mentioned in my last update, I’ll add the references as a chapter at the end of the fic (because some of them will give away spoilers!)

Speaking of spoilers, you guys probably connected some dots (a la hoodie)

Sorry, I'll stop talking - enjoy!

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The drawl of his voice stretched like a lifeline, pulling me back to myself. Back to the bar.

Chishiya was slouched against the counter, idly watching the scene before him. His eyes dropped to the gun, before rising to meet mine. There was nothing in them, not amusement, not even cruelty. Nothing. They were emptier and darker than they’d ever been. And yet at that moment, I had never been more overjoyed to see him.

‘You should probably put that thing away,’ he said. ‘Hatter won’t be too happy if you start messing with her. He’s got high expectations of her.’

The man pushed the gun further into my skin, sending bursts of anxiety through me. I didn’t want him to pull the trigger accidentally. If he shot me in the stomach, it’d be a slow, painful death.

‘You know Chishiya, I’m pretty sick of you interfering all the time. You should stay out of militant business.’

Chishiya eyed the man with disinterest. ‘Militant business. It’s fascinating what you guys do. You take out the trash and dish out the sentence, but you never check the evidence.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ the man snarled. ‘Just shut up and stay out of this.’

‘What I’m saying is that you never bother checking to see if the ‘traitors’ are actually traitors. It’s surprisingly easy to slip a few cards into someone else’s room.’

The tension peaked, and I winced as the fingers around my wrist tightened painfully. Then just as quickly, he released me. He hissed a spew of threats in Chishiya’s face, then stormed off. I hadn’t understood a word, but either way, Chishiya was completely unbothered.

Now that we were alone, he barely even spared me a glance. I half-wondered why he was here. He wouldn’t have come to the bar just to help me. But I also couldn’t picture him as a drunk. As if to answer all the questions floating around in my head, Chishiya signalled to the bartender and said two words.

‘お水をください’ Water, please.

Knowing him, he’d say that alcohol clouds your mind and dulls your rational thinking skills. The bartender set the glass on the counter, but Chishiya didn’t walk away, but sipped his water.

‘Thanks,’ I muttered, although helping me was likely never on his agenda. ‘I’m guessing stuff like that’s pretty common around here.’

‘Well, there are only three rules,’ he said. With one side glance, he zeroed in on the hoodie Kuina had given me. ‘Right now, you’re not allowed to go roaming the city alone because you’re still new, and that makes you a liability. But the next time you’re in a game, you’ll be paired with one of the executives, or someone else with a high rank. If you ask, they’ll go with you to find new clothes.’

I didn’t know how he knew the hoodie wasn’t mine. But I had given up trying to figure out how Chishiya’s mind works.

Before I could ask, he spoke, catching me off guard once again. ‘Come on, Kuina’s waiting for us.’

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

That night, I had found out that Kuina and Chishiya were actually friends. Sort of. It was hard to tell. They hung around together and joked like friends, but instinctively I could tell that Kuina didn’t completely trust him. The days passed quickly, and despite the obvious tension between the militants and the other executives, I found myself actually enjoying it. It was hard not to, with hot water and all.

I spent my days pestering Chishiya to teach me Japanese properly (which he never did). And Kuina and I would chat about the real world. She told me about her mother’s sickness, and how she was desperate to get back to the old world so she could look after her properly. But when she asked about my own life, I filtered a lot of things out. I explained how I was visiting Japan with my brother, and how I had been trying to learn Japanese on and off for a few years just so that I could visit. But when it came to my personal life, I just couldn’t bring myself to talk about it.

‘話せば長くなる,’ I told her. It’s a long story.

The days seemed to dry up under the heat of the sun, and sure enough, my visa was due to expire.

Sitting cross-legged on my bed under the late afternoon rays, I couldn’t help but feel apprehensive after my last game… my first Hearts game… meeting Niragi and Aguni… the laser tag guns… the ball pit… the teenage girl. It had all collected into one big mass, and my throat tightened at the thought of the blood, the darkness.

No, I tried to tell myself. It’s different now. We’ll be put into teams, and I won’t be alone. We’ll clear the games together.

With slightly more resolve than before, I climbed off the bed and quietly left my room, only my stomach dropped when I saw the nasty surprise waiting for me on the other side of the door.

Niragi was leaning against the opposite wall, and the moment I exited, he shot me a grin. I had no idea what he was doing there, probably militant business, so I nodded at him in acknowledgement, then headed down the hall. I knew something was seriously wrong when I heard his footsteps stalking behind me.

‘Niragi,’ I greeted him.

‘Shorty,’ he replied, now walking beside me. ‘You really shouldn’t ignore people, you know. It’s rude as fuck.’

What does he want with me of all people?

‘私を待っているとは知らなかった,’ I told him honestly. I didn’t know you were waiting for me.

‘Ch, as if. I waited there for half an hour. Where the hell are you off to anyway?’

I held out my bandaged arm. ‘これがまだ痛い。だから医療室ではアンに会う.’ This still hurts, so I’m meeting An in the medical room.

Overall, it had healed pretty well. But after the laser tag game, and being kidnapped by militants, the wound had partially re-opened again.

‘I’ll go with you.’

Why??

My gut instinct was telling me to run away, far away.

We turned a corner, stopping in front of the elevators. When the doors pinged open, the group of girls inside immediately stopped talking once they laid eyes on us. They darted out of the elevator, leaving it empty for Niragi and I to enter. I tried not to feel nervous around him. If he wanted me dead, he’d have just shot me already, so it couldn’t be that.

‘どうして待っていた?’ I asked, slowly. How come you were waiting?

Asking Niragi questions felt like a life-or-death situation. Last time I was rude to him he kicked me in the spine. The man was like a loaded gun; he had to be handled with care.

However, he didn’t reply, and the lingered between us until the elevator stopped at the basement floor. We headed down a long, dark hallway, with exposed cables and pipes suspended from the ceiling. This was starting to feel like a really, really bad idea. Seeing the medical room door, I sped up instinctively, but Niragi’s hand grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back and yanking me around. The movement sent shooting pains down through my injured arm.

‘Chishiya,’ Niragi said, eyes glinting with malice. ‘You’ve become pretty chummy with him recently.’

Wait… what?

‘That’s not…’ I hated the way my voice stuttered. ‘そうじゃない.’ That’s not it….

He clearly wasn’t buying it. ‘Tell me what he’s up to. He’s an arrogant little shit and I know he’s up to something.’

Niragi’s grip was too tight, way too tight, and I could barely think straight through the pain. ‘違うよ,’ I insisted. You’re wrong.

‘Am I? I don’t think so, Shorty. You’d better tell me now before I put a bullet in you.’

I didn’t know whether I was scared or annoyed. My heart hammered in my chest, but I was getting pretty sick of his ridiculous questions. I tore away from his hold, inspecting the sleeve for any spots of blood that could’ve seeped through.

‘Stop doing that! クイナのパーカーを台無しにしたくない.’ I don’t want to ruin Kuina’s hoodie.

His brow furrowed a little at this, but I ignored it. Someone like him probably didn’t care about getting blood on his clothes.

I didn’t know how to say what I meant in Japanese, so all I could do was tell him in English. ‘You’re right about one thing. Chishiya’s awful. But you’re wrong about everything else. He can’t stand the sight of me, except when he’s watching me suffer. So even if he did have some kind of plan hatched up, he wouldn’t bother telling me.’

Niragi pulled away and stood up fully. Despite his visible irritation, he was listening all the same.

Perhaps he knows a little bit of the language?

‘And even then,’ I continued, ‘if he was planning something, why would he bother? You know as well as anyone he’s just in this for his own survival and being here at the Beach is his best shot. It wouldn’t make sense.’

A dangerous look worked its way onto his features. I thought right then and there that he’d attack me, kick me with his boot like he’d done before. But he did the exact opposite. With one hand, he twirled his fingers in a strand of my hair, before softly tucking it behind my ear.

I held my breath as he leaned in. ‘Everything you just said,’ he whispered, ‘is complete bullshit.’

Then pulling away quicker than I could flinch, he readjusted his rifle on his shoulder and took off back down the hall. Then he suddenly stopped, as if remembering something, and looked at me over his shoulder.

‘That hoodie you’re wearing… it’s Chishiya’s.’

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

I must’ve looked like I’d seen a ghost, because when I finally entered the medical room, An immediately asked me if I was feeling ill. I tried telling her that I was perfectly fine, but she insisted on taking a bunch of tests to make sure I wasn’t going into septic shock. I couldn’t tell her that it was closer to actual shock.

Even when I finally left the medical room, I still couldn’t shake it off. Except now, the surprise had worn away, leaving sheer humiliation in its place.

Did Kuina steal it from his room?

When he met me at the bar, he must’ve seen it and wondered where I’d gotten it from. And when he had mentioned asking one of the executives to go shopping with me… he had probably assumed I’d been in his room and taken it.

Oh god…

I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. I wanted to scream and tell him I’m sorry. I wanted to rip the hoodie off and push it as far away from me as I could. But I couldn’t. I still didn’t feel comfortable being so exposed.

‘It’s fine,’ I tried to convince myself, ‘everything’s fine.’ I got into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor.

My visa’s due to expire tonight, so I can get a new one for myself. I’ll just explain everything to him. It’s almost game time anyway, so he might be in the lobby.

As the elevator doors opened, I wiped any tears away with my hands, careful not to dirty the sleeves, and headed to the lobby. It was packed with Beach residents, either wishing their friends luck or preparing for the games ahead. I found the little table at the front and took the slip of paper with my name on it.

Group Two.

Then I stepped back, leaning against the wall as my eyes searched the crowds. Sure enough, I spotted a white hood, the thin tendrils of grey-blond hair visible beneath. I waited until he took his slip of paper before I stepped forward.

But there was no need. His eyes locked onto mine from across the room, as if he had clocked onto my presence immediately without showing it. He trudged through the masses, coming to a stop in front of me. I couldn’t help but rub my arms nervously.

‘I’m sorry,’ I blurted out, ‘Kuina gave me this hoodie, and I assumed it was hers and that she was letting me use it. But I just found out from Niragi that it’s actually yours. I didn’t steal it or anything, and I’ve definitely never been in your room. I’m so sorry, I had no idea.’

Chishiya didn’t seem surprised at all, or if he was, he was an expert at hiding it. ‘I know,’ he said, at last. ‘You couldn’t have known where my room was anyway.’

Thinking about it, he had a point. When I started wearing this, I hadn’t even left my own room, so I couldn’t have been in Chishiya’s.

‘I guess you’re right.’

I felt his warmth against my side as he leaned on the wall next to be me. ‘But what I told you at the bar that night still stands,’ he said. ‘Tonight, you’ll get the chance to go looking for any clothes or personal items you want.’

‘Once I get some of my own clothes, I’ll wash this and give it back to you, I promise’ I told him. ‘I just need to find out who the executive in my group is.’

‘It’s me.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because the executives create the groups,’ he said. ‘And I happen to be supervising you. Normally, when a new member arrives, we do an aptitude test. We observe them in a game to test their abilities, but I’ve already vouched for your abilities, and there were only two executives with an expiring visa.’

‘That’s….’ I trailed off, then something clicked. ‘Wait, who was the other executive?’

Ignoring my question, he went on. ‘Since I’ve already seen your abilities, your only test will be to survive. If you can do that, I’ll go with you to get whatever supplies you need.’

I tried to keep the smile from my face, but I couldn’t hold it back. ‘Sounds like a deal.’

‘Time for the games!’ a voice called out, excitedly, and the whole room erupted into cheers. The masses of Beach members piled through the doors, trying to find their assigned cars and groups.

At the same time, I hadn’t moved at all. I couldn’t keep my eyes from Chishiya’s. He was looking back into mine with that same calculating emptiness. I could see the cogs turning, but I didn’t know what they were turning for.

Then as quickly as it happened, the moment was gone as he left, disappearing into the crowd.

#alice in borderland #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x oc #chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland

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jamestrmtx · 3 years

Text

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Five | Snowy

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Here's an early update this week to make up for last week's missed update (due to finals).

As a result, expect the usual update on Saturday, as well!

Also, there’s now a Tag List at the bottom of this chapter -- Feel free to message me or comment if you'd like to be included on the list!

• • •

"...So, did you go to the doctor?"

"Yes, dear."

"And what did she say?"

"It's possible I have anemia or something because of malnutrition."

"What's anemia?"

"That just means I don't have enough blood to stay active and do things as I usually do."

"And why did that happen? You've always made us eat healthy!"

"Frisk, honey…" You sigh and place a hand over your forehead, massaging the ache away. "I get that you're worried, but I need a moment to concentrate. The food'll burn if I keep getting distracted."

"Let me help you, then!"

"Not today. You should do your homework now so I can check it later."

"Why? I can help you if you're busy. And Toriel can help me with that later anyway!"

Needing patience, you stop your work on the stew and let out another breath, longer yet quieter this time. Then, you take a sip of water and set the cup aside to wash for later. "You're not going to see any more of your monster friends until I can at least get to know some of them better." You turn off the stove and let the stew rest while you do the same. "Toriel's an exception, yes. But that doesn't mean I'll allow you to visit her place if people like Sans are going to be there, too."

"But he helps me with science!"

"I'll take care of that, then."

"But you're busy!"

"I can make time."

"But isn't it okay if Toriel's gonna be there with him?"

"If it was, I wouldn't be telling you about this in the first place."

Frisk huffs and pouts, arms crossing as they look away from you. "It's not like he's a ticking time bomb anyway. He… He's not gonna hurt me!"

"How can you be so sure? Your (dad/other dad) left us out of the blue."

"I don't care about him, and he's not my dad anymore! Y- You shouldn't call him that, and you should stop comparing other people with him!"

"Don't talk like that. You know that's not-"

"It's true!" Their words almost come off in a shriek and tears stain their face. "He- He doesn't care about me anymore, so I won't care about him, either. It's his fault why you had to go to the doctor in the first place!"

You stay quiet and watch as they blink through the tears, sniffling some of them back. Sensing they need a break from your gaze, you turn back to the stove and focus on continuing with the meal.

"I… I was okay with it the first week, but when I noticed how much better we've been doing just with Toriel alone, I- I got really, really mad at him! He doesn't care about us anymore, and he left us even before I ran away. If he wants to show he cares, then… Then he has to do something else besides sending you dumb What'sUp messages all the time."

You stop what you're doing again and catch the salt shaker just as it's about to fall into the pot, stew still resting and waiting for you to finish with flavouring it. Thankfully, the safety lock keeps it from making a mess, so you place it back where it was and thank the Heavens you don't have to salvage the food from being oversalted. When you recover, you stop looking at the pot to meet with Frisk's eyes, directing your widened ones at them.

"How do you know that?"

"It's obvious! Your face always gets all scrunched up and grumpy, and the ringtone's different to all the others."

"And what if it's someone else?'

"You don't text anyone else besides auntie and Sans sometimes!"

Their words hit you like a punch to the gut.

Having your social life summarized so quickly almost makes you wince, and you feel the urge to ground them simply for those words alone, rather than for their earlier conduct regarding how they talked about Jerry. "I'm afraid I'll have to take your own phone away if you keep doing this. I don't know how you even figured all that stuff out, but you know it's not good to sneak up on things like this. You should ask me if you're curious, dear. And... And not just take a look at those messages whenever I'm not around."

"I haven't snooped around! The messages would show they're read, but all the stuff Jerry's sent you's still unread."

You smile and choose not to mention on how they continue to corner themselves the longer they speak, though you do acknowledge their awareness over small details, taking advantage of that by asking, "So that means you've read auntie and Sans's texts?"

They nod, unhesitating. "I know auntie's been telling you to get in touch with friends again. And you have a tour date with Sans this weekend!"

"Tour date where?"

"The Underground!"

"And besides those two people, who's the last person I texted, and how long ago was it?"

Frisk stays quiet for a while this time, but it's made clear they're only seeking that information from their memory rather than realizing how far they've dug themselves into a hole. "Your coworker was last month, and one of your friends was two months ago." Their response is confident, although it doesn't take longer than a few seconds of silence between you for them to notice their mistakes. You don't say anything and stare at them with squinted eyes and an equally humoured grin, waiting. "Um…" They can only stare with wide eyes; their body stays still while their mind processes just what exact mistakes were made. "I…"

"Go shower and dress up, dear," you say, biting back your smile. "We'll eat first before we go, and we can talk on the way there."

"To Toriel's place?"

You nod. "It's about time I met her in person rather than calls. And frankly, it's been… really irresponsible of me to let you continue visiting her despite me not being aware of who she is in person. I only allowed it because Serif was there, but after learning about what he did, I really don't want you near him."

"But you guys are going on a date this weekend!"

"If you're smart enough to know opening a message shows you've read it, then I'm sure you know that's not what that word means in that context."

"...What's context?"

"I won't keep playing your game, dear."

"But what if I really don't know what it means?"

"Then you can find it in a dictionary, or you can ask your tutors about it."

"You're being mean!"

"And you're being nosy."

Frisk frowns and crosses their arms. They attempt an angered expression, though it results in a faltering grimace as they try not to let their sadness known. Their lips stay pressed close together and their body shakes, all signs of them wanting to cry their feelings out. Still, they push through and regain some calm through a sigh. "I…" Their tone is just as reluctant as their posture, so you don't pressure and stay quiet. "I'm sorry, (mom/dad)." They let their arms loosen and stare up at you with stern eyes. "I was just worried about you. I… I didn't mean to look through your stuff. And I… I didn't mean to make you angry. I-"

"I'm not angry." You place a hand over their head and smile, tickling the back of their ear and gaining a smile back from them. "But what you did really wasn't right." You pause and take a breath, already weak and dizzied despite it still being one in the afternoon. "And even though there're times where you have to go against the rules, this isn't one of them. You could've gotten into trouble if it was a stranger or someone else, or you could've learned something the wrong way. If you need to know something, you should ask me directly, not just play spy about it. I won't know what's bothering you if you keep hiding it from me and getting your answers like this. Alright?"

Frisk responds with a hug rather than words. Their hold is tight, and they nearly cling onto you, face pressing against your torso as they cry against it. "I'm sorry," they whisper through their sniffles and hiccups, holding on tighter. "I- I�� Could you tell me what's making you sad next time, then?"

"Of course, honey." You place a hand against the back of their head and brush your fingers through their hair. "...I should've done that sooner, too." You smile when they let go and meet with their eyes, these red and watery from the recent cry. "Your hair's getting longer," you add, ruffling it up. "Do you wanna cut it, or do you like it this way?"

"I like it this way!" Their words are as bright as their smile, and another look at them reveals a weight's been lifted off their shoulders. "Should I go do my homework now? I wanna stay with you today."

"Sure," you reply, letting your smile grow. "Do what you already know. I'll be there in a few to help you out."

"Thanks, (mom/dad)!"

With that, they stand on their tiptoes and kiss your cheek. Then, they run off to their room, leaving you to finish with the stew.

• • •

Frisk's return equals to having a cramped calendar, where every single day's marked down with a sticker and a note to remind you over what you have to do.

Still, it doesn't erase the fact you need time for yourself, so you take up Frisk's concern over your health and happiness as advice for you to take better care of yourself. You start by stretching after an hour long nap, drinking some water, and opening up the envelope the two skeleton brothers had given you. Anticipation arrives with the reminder of what Papyrus hinted at about its contents. You tear it open, pull out the first thing you touch, and continue doing so until there's nothing left to take out and place on your nightstand. You then look at all the items laid out and notice that -- besides the business card Papyrus mentioned -- all other items are what he'd informed were from his brother.

Besides Alphys's contact information, there's...

What looks like a bunny-shaped notepad.

Two admission tickets.

A folded paper with some cards stuck to it.

And, as you feared, money.

If Papyrus mentioned only about Alphys's contact information being there, then it's a likelihood to assume the rest is from his older brother.

You take the notepad first and open it to see the first page has already been filled out, and it reads:

"so, uh… hey."

"i'm not too good at writin' letters, but i thought this notepad would be useful now that you're gonna keep a contact list of all the monsters frisk made friends with. i took the liberty of puttin' in the first ten i could think of. start with those first, and don't push yourself too hard."

The fourth and second to last item from the monster is what looks like an agreement letter and a pair of travel visas attached to it. You squint at the tiny lettering and adjust your glasses to begin with the reading.

"With the approval of former Royal Sentry and Judge, Comic Sans Serif, I hereby allow for (miss/mister) (Y/N) (L/N) to traverse the Underground with him by their side. It is important to note these tickets will expire in three days after their initial use, and that another permit would need to be requested if the user so requires to visit the Underground again. I would also like to let known that it was not in my decision to have all these restrictions made, but it has been requested by the government that we restrict access to the Underground until they determine it is safe for humankind to visit. These visas have been given for the sole sake of having both of Frisk's parents well-informed over their child's journey, and said adults' safety should be provided by mister Serif. Any danger they face at the Underground shall be blamed on him for his inability to keep up with the requirements of this agreement, which include providing (miss/mister) (L/N) specifically with both protection and knowledge alike. A second permit has been provided in case that Frisk's other parent decides to accept the offer, as well. – Asgore Dreemurr."

Below all that is a note written with a soft shade of pencil graphite, allowing you to erase it after reading.

"take care, pal."

Ignoring the smile on your face, you proceed to the third item: two admission tickets for what's titled as 'A Spectacular Drama by Mettaton'. Attached to one of them is a second sticky note along with a shorter memo written down on it. It makes sense as to why the agreement letter had a 'take care' on it, given it's the last item you'd pulled out besides the money. Had you checked them all in that order, that last memo would've been a closing of sorts.

"there's gonna be a big show in two months. dunno if you and your kid celebrate the holiday, but frisk seemed to like snowdin, so i figured they'd also like seeing a whole bunch of events related to that. it says 'drama' only, but that's just mettaton highlightin' what he finds the most important."

"tell me when the time comes if you're up for it. i can help you get to know the guy better before then."

The money's the only thing left and the only one that leaves questions behind. You take the batch and count in hopes of finding some answers, though the longer you do that, the stranger it gets.

20…

40…

60…

80…

100…

That pattern repeats for two more times, making it three-hundred in total.

Just as you wonder why you've been handed such a large amount, you have the urge to look at yourself in the coffee table's reflection to see you're not exactly looking any better than before.

Both him and his brother had noticed that. It's almost been two weeks, and yet you've still the same tired look to your face. Constant lost hours of sleep, excessive stress, and practicing a poor diet had left almost irreparable damage on your body and mind alike, enough for even non-human people to notice the change.

All things considered though, how were you supposed to hate an enemy when they acted like this?

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Happy Holidays!

I know times are tougher than ever, but stay strong and remember to practice social distancing if you're making small get-togethers with family/those in your same household, apartment, or campus.

Take care, and stay safe. :-)

(Holiday special incoming soon enough!!)

Tag List

@the-simp-express

(This is a temporary format until I learn more about Tag Lists! I'm a Tumblr noob, lol.)

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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anjuschiffer · 4 years

Text

Breaking the Silence

My first Dickinette! Originally this was going to be for Maribat March, but ended up getting too invested on it... welp! Hope you enjoy this!

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Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo

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AO3

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The door opened with a slam and closed with a click, Dick peeking over the doorway, his face lightening up upon seeing his children enter the home. However, a frown replaced his smile when he saw Thomas throw his bag to the side, Marie watching her twin brother with a pursed lip and worried eyes.

“-maybe he can help.” Marie whispered, trying to grab Thomas’ hand only to get it slapped away.

“Dad?” Thomas scoffed, dragging his hand down his face before flinging his hand in the direction of the kitchen. “That happy-go-lucky guy? Bet he’s never had to deal with this shit before.”

“It doesn’t hurt to try.” Marie urged, holding Thomas’ hand into her own. “Maybe he can-”

“He won’t and will not. And you better not tell him about any of this.” Thomas gritted, jerking his hand away from Marie, his eyes landing on his father who was now standing at the foyer of the house, a smile plastered on his face.

How long was he there for? How much did he know?

“So, how was school?” Richard asked, leaning on the wall, watching as Marie fidgeted under his watch while Thomas muttered something, averting his attention.

“It was alright.” Thomas started, picking up his school bag and threw it over his shoulder. “Aced my midterms if that helps.” Richard’s smile grew, Thomas wanting to roll his eyes as his father walked over to him and hugged him, ending the interaction by ruffling his midnight hair.

“Definitely wonderful news! Worth celebrating over! Might have to call your mo-”

“He got in a fight.” Marie blurted out, her gaze on the floor, her fists trembling at her side, her name hissed out of her brother.

“A fight?” Richard asked, Thomas rolling his eyes, feeling a bit ashamed when his father’s eyes narrowed. “With who-”

“It’s nothing you should be concerned about,” Thomas said, walking up the stairs to slowly retreat to his room. “No-thing,” Thomas enunciated each syllable.

“Stop lying Thomas,” Marie said, her voice wavering. She looked at her father with bluebell eyes, round and filled to brim with unshed tears. Richard’s heart ached. They looked just like hers. “He got in a fight with-”

“Marie.” Thomas sternly growled, watching his sister tense up. “Not. Now.”

“Thomas, let her-”

“Are you happy that you got Dad’s attention, Marie?” Thomas asked, Richard wondering what exactly was his son feeling. Anger? Annoyance? Jealousy?

“What are you-”

“Aren’t you happy Mar? Happy that Dad loves you sooo much, simply because you’re the better one out of the two of us? The one that never gets in trouble? The goody-two-shoes, just like him? Like her? Like them?”

“What? No!” Marie squeaked, her eyes darting from their father and Thomas. “No, I-”

“Oh stop lying to yourself, Mar.” Thomas walked back down the stairs, his bag abandoned at the top. “You just love the fact that Dad always prefers you over me. After all,” he looked past his father, watching as Marie cowered behind him, “-you look just like her.”

“Thomas.” Richard said sternly, standing in front of Marie, tears falling silently down her face. “That’s enough.”

“What’s enough?” Thomas asked with a dry laugh. “The fact that Marie looks just like Mom? The fact that Marie looks identical to Mom? The fact that you have an identical replica of Mom living with us despite me also being a part of her?” Thomas let out a shuddering sigh. “I bet you’d choose Mom over me if you had the chance, wouldn’t you?”

“Thomas. Take. That. Back.” Richard gritted.

“Why should I when we both know it’s the truth?”

“You’re jumping to conclusions young man.”

“Oh? Am I?” Thomas walked up to his father, the height difference not scaring him one bit. “Then explain why I’m always the outcast.” At that, Richard took a step back, wondering how to answer at the accusation. “Why was I always the one you avoided looking at? Why was I always the one sent to Grandpa Bruce’s manor while Marie got to stay with Grandpere Tom and Grandmere Sabine? Why was I the one who had to suffer through all the gossip behind my back? Why was I-”

“Because you resemble her the most.” Richard softly said, Thomas looking up to his father, wondering when he had curled into himself, why his vision was so blurry. When did he start crying? When did his father start crying? Why was he crying? “Because some days you sounded exactly like her.” Richard brought his son into an embrace, Thomas feeling his father tremble. “Even though you have my shade of blue eyes, you have her midnight hair.”

Thomas felt his chest both tighten up and feel lighter.

“You have her laugh and her voice, her button nose and scrunched up face whenever she ate something sour.” Thomas’ vision blurred again, a lump forming in his throat.

“Your freckles look identical to her’s, you have her smile when you eat your favorite ice cream combo: vanilla and chocolate mint.” Richard let out a wobbly laugh. “Did you know that was her favorite combination to eat?”

Richard separated himself from Thomas, watching Thomas hang his head in shame while also wiping his tears away.

“And despite never meeting her, you have the same habits she had.” Marie walked up to her father and silently cried into his side. He patted her head, pulling Thomas into a hug again, hearing muffled cries. “It’s not that I was avoiding you Thomas, I was just not prepared to face you… to face the reality that your mother will never be able to see how much her children have grown up without her seeing a single bit of it with her own eyes.”

Thomas’ wails broke the silence, Marie shortly joining in, her own sobs syncing with her brother’s, something Richard had yet to completely understand.

Even when they were infants -in the rare times they would cry- whenever one of them would cry, the other would join, their screams syncing into a single wail, sometimes scaring Richard.

It would still be something to get used to.

Richard let his kids cry, knowing it was heavily needed. Talking to Thomas about the fight can wait for another time, his current emotions were more important than some fight from earlier that day.

He knew about Thomas’ constant fights, the academy always calling Richard to try to meet in person to speak about the situation, Richard always turning the appointments down. He already knew about them, he had for a while. He just knew it wasn’t the right time to approach Thomas about the issue.

He wanted to give Thomas the option to approach him, to confide in his father for advice.

Richard knew better than to pry information from people, if living with his adopted siblings taught him anything, it was to never pry. When he had applied pressure, or at least the majority of the time, it’d lead to an unwanted situation.

Their crying carried for minutes, almost an hour until they came to a soft hiccup, Thomas being the one to end the symphony of tears. Making sure that his kids calmed down completely and didn’t have anymore pent up emotions, Richard coaxed them to take a nap as Thomas and Marie ended up exhausting themselves, now drowsy from all the crying.

With great hesitance, the twins finally agreed to take a short nap, Thomas complaining how it would ruin his sleep schedule while Marie was starting to crave cake. Richard told Marie he would make sure a cake was made and finished before dinner while laughing at Thomas’ complaints.

It reminded him of a certain someone.

Tucking Marie into bed and giving her a kiss on her forehead, Richard slipped out of Marie’s room and went to the kitchen to start working on the cake he had promised Mari.

Setting up his work space, he got to baking, placing his glass bowl over a pan of hot water, cracking the eggs over it and placing the sugar and vanilla extract in as well. He began to mix the ingredients, feeling something was off.

“Oh! Don’t forget the honey! You always forget the honey!”

“Right! The honey!”

“And don’t forget to remove it-”

“Remove it when it gets to 40 celcius. And we have to do the same for the butter and milk.”

“Yup! Honestly, why do you keep asking me about the step if you got the majority of it down?

“Just making sure.”

“Once you mix the first bowl you gotta add the cocoa powder.”

“Right, the butter and milk come after that.”

“Yup! So let’s get back to baking!”

“Hope I don’t forget a step along the way.” Richard said to himself, failing to notice the figure that peered from the kitchen doorway, watching Richard talk to himself as he made the batter, placed it in the oven and started to prep for the next step.

“Do you see that Mari? He’s doing just fine. He may still be healing, but he’s okay.”

——

“What’s the cake for? Is it the twin’s birthday already?” A voice asked, making Dick jump, almost misplacing the last strawberry on the cake.

“Kor’i!” He exclaimed with a smile, placing the strawberry down and going up to kiss his wife, having to tip-toe a bit to kiss her cheek. “When did you get back home?”

“When you started baking.” Kor’i giggled upon seeing the blush on Richard’s face. “I didn’t want to bother you so-”

“You could’ve still said hi.”

“You were talking with M.” Kor’i said softly, watching as it dawned on Richard as to what she had meant.

“Oh,” was all he could say, rubbing the back of his neck. “Was I?” Kor’i nodded, noticing the mess on the counter.

“Why don’t I help you clean up? That way you can take a short break before dinner.” Kor’i suggested, Dick nodding, the two cleaning up the mess in sweet silence.

------

The mess was cleaned, dinner ready to be heated and the cake to be eaten, but there was an hour to spare before Kor’i and Dick had to wake up the children, so they settled with sitting on the sectional sofa, Dick being Kori’s pillow as the two watched some drama Kor’i had been watching recently.

While Kor’i was highly immersed into the show, Dick was content in just being there, running his hand through her hair that seemed to flow for miles. Her sunset hair shimmered, before Dick realized it had turned midnight and short.

------

“-hope that- Dick?” Kor’i asked, quickly turning when he had stopped moving. One minute he was stroking her hair, the next he had stopped.

Quickly, Kor’i kneeled beside Dick. “Dick? Dick? Dick, are you alright?”

“Mari. Is Mari okay?” He asked, staring at his hands, Kor’i noticing that tears ran down his face, his eyes had turned glossy.

“Dick... Dick.” Kor’i repeated, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Dick, please, say something.”

“It was all my fault.” Dick whispered, still looking into the distance, watching as Mari’s casket was lowered into the ground. “It was all my fault.”

------

Dick stormed out of the manor, slamming the door behind him, ignoring Alfred’s calls.

This is exactly why he hated Bruce. Why he hated Batman. Why he hated being Robin.

This is why this was going to be his last mission. His last mission... As a vigilante…

He had enough of all of this...he just wanted to have a life next to her.

As he made his way to his girlfriend’s home, ambulances rushed past him, firefighters and police cars following suit… all of them heading for-

“Mari.” With the worst case scenario in his head, Dick broke into a sprint, praying that it was all wrong. That what his gut was telling him was wrong. That Mari was fine. That she is alright.

Please, let her be okay.

------

He couldn’t bear to see her nor to touch her.

“I’m fine Dick.” Marinette softly said, placing her hand over his, drawing circles. “I’m going to be fine.”

“Why?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you so calm?” Dick grasped the mint green blanket into his hand. “Why aren’t you-”

“Because I was also at fault.”

“He was drunk.”

“But I also was crossing the street when the light was still green.”

“He was going over the speed limit, Marinette.” Dick gritted, getting up quickly, the hair falling down. “Don’t you understand how serious this is?”

“I made it out with a simple scratch.”

“Mari, that’s not a scratch. You could’ve ended up blind and possibly dead if it weren’t for your quick thinking and your phone.”

Marinette pursed her lips at that, balling the blanket under her grip.

She knew Dick was right, but she was grateful for her luck, only having the side of her face swollen and having a cut near her eye.

True, she could’ve died if her phone didn’t take the hit for her leg… but Marinette was just happy to be alive…

Dick watched her avoid him as he took a breath, turning away from her as he collected himself.

Do it for her.

Bruce’s words rang in his head as he prepared himself for the biggest mistake of his life. Hell, the biggest regret of his life.

“I’ve had enough of this.” He said out of nowhere, Marinette wondering where this was coming from.

“Enough of what?”

“Of this!” Dick yelled, motioning at the hospital. “Every single time I come to visit you, I always end up here. Here!”

“Richard, I-”

“The first time I met you, it was my fault you were here. I wasn’t watching where I was driving, but since then?” Dick let out a dry laugh. “You manage to make it about yourself.”

“Richard, I had to-”

“You should’ve let the ball roll off the first time, should’ve let the phone fall into the river the second, should’ve let the letter fly off into the air, let the dog runaway, let that girl-”

“How can you say that I was doing it for attention?” Marinette scowled. “I was helping someone, saving them on that last one.”

“Help to the extent of getting injured? Of dying?” Dick laughed before it came to a halt. “I can’t keep going like this. I rather not be involved with this.”

Marinette’s eyes shrunk, feeling her view become smaller. She could feel her chest tighten, a lump forming in her throat.

Please don’t… don’t say-

“I think it’s better if we go our own ways.”

He did...

Marinette didn’t know when he left, nor did she know when the other doctors came into her room. She only acknowledged them when one of them sat on her bed and held her hand, giving it a squeeze.

It was only then that she noticed that the other two doctors that were in the room avoided looking at her, their mouths in thin lines.

“I’m...I’m pretty sure you didn’t hear us when we came in...we noticed you were dazed off, recovering from today’s accident.” The doctor at her side said, letting out a huff. “We’re here to tell you about your friend, Alya.” Marinette perked at that. “We came to the decision to tell you about your friend now rather than later or through someone else.”

No.

Please… don’t…

She can’t right now… She can’t lose another person… She won’t be able to handle that...

“Wh-What, where is Alya?”

She needed Alya right now...

“I’m sorry, but Mme.Ceshaire… she didn’t make it through the surgery.”

One minute Marinette saw the three doctors in her room… the next, her world had become dark.

------

“She’s awake! Someone! Get the doctor!”

Marinette’s eyes flickered, flinching when her eyes adjusted to the lights.

“I see that you’re doing better, Mme.Dupain-Cheng. And we need you to be doing better, to get better. After all, you have to live on for two now.”

“I, um, I beg your pardon?” Marinette asked, adjusting herself to sit up a bit, watching as the doctor looked at her in astonishment and then gracefully gave her a smile.

“I’m guessing you didn’t know, but that’s quite understandable, seeing as you are only two weeks in.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m still not-”

“You are pregnant Mme.Dupain-Cheng.” Marinette’s heart fell. “Congratulations.”

———

It was finally done.

Fuck Bruce.

He was never going back.

Dick felt like a weight in his shoulders were slightly lifted.

There was no turning back.

As Dick headed for the bakery where he knew Marinette still resided in, his heart came to a halt as his eyes laid on the girl he had left behind.

She had changed. She was a bit more plump, glowing as she sat on the chair outside the bakery. Next to her, a man who he’d only see a few times. Luka, if he remembered correctly.

But that wasn’t what had caused his heart to stop beating. It was her figure that had him to stop breathing. She was pregnant. But now the question that rose: whose was it? Who was the father of the child she was to bare?

It didn’t take long to figure it out because as soon as Dick locked eyes with Luka, he saw red in the other man’s eyes. One minute Dick was looking at an enraged Luka and the next he saw a fist, toppling backwards where his head met the floor.

“How dare you show your face around here after what you’ve done to Marinette!”

“What-” a grunt. “Are you-” a gag as he tasted blood. “Talking about?” But Dick got no response. Luka just keeps punching him, Dick letting him despite his brain telling him to defend himself. But his heart said otherwise. Something told him he deserved it.

“Luka! Stop it! Please!” Marinette’s voice cracked as she pleaded, Luka almost stopping instantly when he heard it.

Dick swore that his heart stopped at how broken it sounded, how tired it had become.

Was it all because of him?

“Mari, I-“

“Come inside.” Marinette said with a weak voice. “I don’t want anyone eavesdropping on our conversation.

After getting fixed up, Marinette treating his last bruise, Dick finished what he came to tell her.

The reason he broke up with her and didn’t contact her for months? One word: Kitten.

She had decided to waltz back into his life, but this time being the new Killer Moth, something Bruce and Dick did not expect to hear after hearing of Drury’s death.

While Bruce quickly adjusted to the new villain, Dick couldn’t. Because he knew what this meant.

She wanted him -hence her return- and this time, she came prepared.

She had more things to hold hostage against Dick - Gotham, Batman, Robin...and Marinette.

He needed to act quick, hasty decisions that led to successfully taking Kitten down.

However, they also led to regrets.

He watched as Marinette dropped the bag of frozen peas, her eyes filling up with tears.

“All of that, for a mission?”

“I know. It was stupid-“

“Stupid barely just scratches the surface.” She started, letting out a dry laugh. “It was downright idiotic!” Holding her hand to her head, she walked in a complete circle before facing him again. “Why didn’t you just tell me? Why? Didn’t you trust me?”

“I do! I still do.”

“Sure didn’t seem like it.” Marinette scoffed. “Because if you did, you would’ve told me.”

“I could’ve never returned to you had the mission gone wrong.” Dick defended, attempting to reach out to her, only for Mari to catch his hand and shake her head.

“I would’ve understood. I know the sacrifices a person must make to keep their loved ones protected.” She reminded him, Dick fully knowing she was referring to her days of being Ladybug.

“Kitten-” Dick started, only to get cut off.

“Kitten would’ve faced my wrath if you didn’t come back to me.” Marinette said, then remembering about that clingy girl he once spoke of. “I would’ve done something to bring you back home.”

“I know. And that’s what I also feared.”

“Hmm?”

“I feared that if it did go wrong and you had to do something to get me back, and something happened to you as well...what does that say about me? Am I too weak to protect you? That I’m still not ready to have my own life and protect it?”

“What’s wrong in relying on others?”

“It often means bringing in more people for others to hold hostage.”

“Is that what your father taught you?” Marinette asked coldly, glaring at the bruise on Dick’s face. “Is that what you learned from fighting alongside Batman? Red Robin? Robin? Because if anything, they prove otherwise.”

“I just don’t-”

“Sometimes, you have to rely on others, lean on their shoulders.” Marinette reminded, cupping Richard’s face, gently pressing her forehead against his. “Just hide away your fears and ask for help. Talk to someone, just like you are with me.”

Dick didn’t know when he had placed his hands over hers nor when he got up to embrace her. He just knew that whatever stood between them no longer stood there.

That she somehow washed away his fears.

“Thank you, Mari.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you for doing that stunt on me.” Marinette said against his ear, a chill running down his spine.

“R-right.”

------

The next months were spent with Dick picking up the responsibility he had never picked up.

He helped Marinette with her modeling, helped her deal with her clients, always at her beck and call each day.

He did the cleaning, the laundry and the cooking, not once letting Marinette lift a finger.

Despite each day spent like an errand boy, Dick cherished each moment.

Their morning greetings (which was a boop on the nose), their lunch dates, Dick watching Marinette hum and caress her stomach whenever she took a break, being by Mari’s side whenever she felt irritated, and the list went on.

Those days became weeks, which in turn, became months.

He didn’t remember when he had the guts to ask her to marry him, crying when she said yes.

The two moved into their own apartment - big enough for them and their bundle of joy.

———

With each passing day, he longed for the moment he’d be able to meet their child, Dick often being the one to bring out lists of names to choose from.

They’d talk about the nursery as they watched the city lights beam across their ceiling at night.

They’d talk about the cribs and the onesies they have to buy. Which brand to choose and the stuffed animals to buy.

As he’d run his hand through her midnight locks, they would speak of what family activities to do.

Introduce them to Disney, take them to the beach, the amusement park. To Paris!

They’d let their fantasies run wild, fully knowing that money was the least of their problem.

They just wanted the best for their child.

Their future.

———

And in the blink of an eye, they were there.

———

“He’s so tiny.” Richard cooed, cradling his son in his arms, watching the tiny infant squirm in his blanket. He had a tuft of navy hair, a few strands seeping from his tiny hat.

It was still pretty early in the morning, the delivery being five in the morning and yet Richard still had energy to spare. Or maybe he knew it wasn’t fair to his wife who worked so hard to bring their bundle of joy to their lives.

“He is, meaning that there’s still space to carry another one.” Marinette hummed, Richard tilting his head.

“Another...one?” Marinette giggled as she watched the nurse roll in another makeshift crib into the room, watching as tears rolled down Richard’s face. “Mari… why didn’t you-”

“I made sure to keep it a secret.” Marinette watched as the nurse helped Richard balance the two children into his arms, ingraining the memory. “Only my parents knew about them. Oh! And Alfred too!”

“She’s adorable,” was all Richard could whisper out as he looked at their children in his arms.

“Thomas. Marie.” Marinette said, reaching out for her children, the nurse quickly going to Richard to get Thomas and then Marie. Richard wanted to pout upon having his children taken from him but he didn’t care.

His heart melted as he watched the two infants snuggle closer to their mother, tiny smiles on their wrinkly faces.

“I’ll always be watching over you. Always.” Marinette softly spoke, her smile getting bigger before it quivered. “I’m sorry.”

What was she talking about? Sorry? About what?

“Richard.” Marinette spoke, even quieter this time, Dick noticing that her hold on the children was loosening, probably because she was tired. Without another word, he scooped the children into his arm, watching Marinette look at him with soft eyes. “Come closer.”

He did.

He watched as Marinette slowly lifted her hand to his cheek, caressing it as she smiled, unshed tears pooling in her eyes.

“You know I’ve always loved you and I always will.”

“You tell me everyday my love.” Dick assured, leaning into her cold touch. “I love you too.”

“Please.” Marinette pleaded, a tear sliding down her pale face, her lips giving him a frail smile. “Promise me that you’ll take care of them.”

“Of course I will.” RIchard smiled, wanting to caress her cheek as well, instead, he settled for a forehead press. She was kinda cold. “I’ll take care of them alongside you.” Marinette shook her head.

“Only you will be able to take care of... them.” Marinette said, her voice cracking towards the end. “I’m sorry.” She whispered out, Richard finally piecing together her words.

“Mari. Mari, no. You...you can’t.” Richard set the children down into their respective cribs, hearing her monitor start to beep in alarm. “Mari, Mari! Mari please! Someone!”

He started to shout outside the door, shouting for someone to come and help him.

He shouted desperately, watching as no one came, the crying of his two children being his only solace.

She died with a smile on her face.

———

“It was all my fault! I should’ve never left her alone! I should've told her about the mission instead of leaving her out of the loop! If I had simply-“

“Dick, you didn’t know.” Kor’i softly said, never noticing when the twins had gotten to the living room, watching as their father broke down. “None of us knew, but her.”

“Mari, is Mari okay? Tell me Kor’i! Is Marinette going to be alright?” Dick asked, clinging onto Kor’i.

This...this was the first time the twins had ever heard their mother’s name out of their father’s mouth. It was always ‘Mom,’ ‘Mother,’ Nettie’. It was never Marinette.

“Richard. She’s alright.” Kor’i hushed, watching as Dick let out shuddering breaths. “The children are okay as well.”

Thomas and Marie watched as their father visibly calmed down, watching Kor’i give him a soft smile.

“So she’s okay? She’s not…” he trailed off, looking at Kor’i with glossy eyes. When he saw Kor’i nod, let out a sigh before he collapsed to his side, the cushions allowing him to drift off to sleep.

Thomas and Marie attempted to go over to their father, but didn’t when Kor’i prevented them from getting any closer.

“Does...does- is this new?” Marie asked, watching her father in deep sleep, tears staining the pillow underneath him. “Was this-“

“He doesn’t have them that often anymore, they used to be much worse. And as much as I want to say no, I can’t do that. So yes, perhaps the sudden situation that caused him to confess his feelings may have triggered this one.” Kor’i responded despite not wanting to confirm Marie’s suspicions.

“Will he be alright?” Thomas then asked, holding onto Marie’s hand that trembled in guilt.

“He’s going to be alright. I assure you that much.” Thomas and Marie watched as Kor’i draped a blanket over him, wondering what awaited them.

The two walked out the living room, walking into the kitchen, a sob escaping Marie.

“Come on Marie. You can’t just-“

“What if it’s our fault Mom isn’t here?” Marie cut her brother off. “What if we’re the reason-“ She flinched when Thomas slammed his hands on the kitchen counter.

“Don’t you dare say that!” Thomas grabs her by the shoulders, shaking her a bit. “Don’t you dare mock Mom’s feelings like that! If we’re here while she isn’t, then she wanted us to live! And because we’re living, we can’t just just take her decision for granted!”

“I know, but-“ Marie bit her lip. “How did we just believe Dad wasn’t still suffering from her death? Why didn’t we notice it? Why didn’t he say anything? We’re his children. He should’ve said something. We could’ve helped.”

Thomas frowned, watching as his sister silently cried.

He hated to say this, but she was right.

He could’ve told them what he was going through. He could’ve leaned on them… then again, who was he to judge him for that?

He never spoke of his fights with his father, so what right did he have for demanding him to tell them about his problems?

Now that he thought about, why did he never speak of the fights?

Was it his shame? His guilt?

No.

Thomas knew why he never spoke of the fights.

It was his pride.

They called him motherless, a bastard when they saw him argue with his father once and when they learned that Kor’i was his father’s ‘current’ wife was someone from Tamaran, they called him a Torq.

Torq.

Insignificant. A nobody. That nothing good would ever come from a motherless rebel like him.

Thomas hit the side of his fist against the wall, a book hitting his head and falling to the floor.

Why did he choose the side of the kitchen where all the cookbooks were at?

Rubbing his aching bruise, Thomas went to pick it up, eyes widening when he saw the name on the opened front page.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marie rushes over the moment she hears the name, slightly pushing her brother to get a better view of the book.

They flipped the page, confused to see writing on it.

“They’re recipes.” Marie pointed out, looking at the fruit tart recipe on the page they were currently looking at.

“Mom wrote all of these.” Thomas stated the obvious, running his hand across the neatly written instructions. The regular instructions were in black, side notes and suggestions in red and pink respectively.

He also couldn’t help but notice a ladybug theme on the book.

Did she like ladybugs?

“In case Dick has another nightmare or breakdown.” Marie read out loud, Thomas looking to where he was reading.

“An herbal tea?”

“Do you think...it will work?”

“We can give it a try.”

“Let’s do it then!” Marie said with a smile. “Let’s make Dad feel better!”

I know you two can do it! Good luck!

———

“It happened again, didn’t it?” Dick asked, looking down at his trembling hands.

It wasn’t even a complete ten minutes before he woke up. His body was sore and his throat parched. Another one, huh? “And I’m front of-“

“They were going to find out eventually.” Kor’i said softly, amazed that it took 16 whole years for them to find out. While babies didn’t fully understand breakdowns, they can absolutely feel them. “And what better time than now.”

“But they shouldn’t have to deal with-“

“They are not dealing with anything. Instead, they are learning more about you. Getting to finally know about their father.”

“Their pathetic poor-excuse-of-a-father.” Dick huffed, placing his head into his hands. “Can’t even get over-“

“Don’t. Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Kor’i gritted, cupping Dick’s face to make him look at her. “Don’t you dare say that death should be easy to get over. Because it’s not. And never will. Only time can heal it. And we both know that.”

“All too well.” Dick added, placing his head on her shoulder. “Sorry for saying that.”

“It’s alright.”

“Dad.” “Dad.” They heard their kids say simultaneously, noticing that Thomas had a tray in his hand.

“What’s that you got there?” Dick attempted to say with a chirp, causing everyone to resist showing a frown.

“It’s a tea recipe we found.” Thomas started.

“We decided to make it after finding it in Mom’s recipe book.”

They watched as their father’s eyes grew large.

“Mari’s...cookbook. It thought it was lost in the move from long ago.” Dick whispered as he took the cup of tea, the aroma of ginger and cinnamon bringing back old memories. “It smells just like the tea she used to make.”

Marie and Thomas watched as their father took a sip from it, wondering if it tastes the same as Mom’s.

“Does...does it taste...good?” Marie asked after a long moment of awkward silence.

“It almost tastes exactly like hers. Of course, there’s still something missing-“ Marie’s hiccups, Dick quickly getting up to console her, setting down his cup. “Mari, the tea-“

“I’m glad you liked it. I thought you wouldn’t.” Marie sobbed, wiping away her tears. “We tried to figure out what the last ingredient was but after testing out different things, nothing seemed to be it.”

“Whatever Mom meant by ‘tears of true love,’ we weren’t able to crack it.” Thomas clarifies, placing the empty tray onto the coffee table. “But I guess it was still a success if you said it tastes similar to Mom’s.”

Dick smiled, pulling Thomas close to him.

“Seems like the two of you have your mother’s gift of creation.” Dick felt Kor’i join in on the hug. “She’d be really proud of the two of you. Without a doubt.”

He wiped away a tear that dared to slip, flicking it away.

He never realized the soft pink glow that emitted from the tea when the tear flew into it.

The tear of true love...in the shape of a healing family.

#maribat #dickinette #dick x kori #oc: marie grayson #oc: thomas grayson

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snarkwriteswrasslin · 3 years

Note

If you are taking holiday prompts... can I get going to pick out, cut down and decorate the tree with my tree, Wardlow? Lol however you wanna do it, HCs or a prompt. And of course yanno how I feel about it getting smutty. 💜

Listen, I have a LOT of ideas for Wardlow and christmas, ahhhhh! I’m so happy you sent this one in because I love doing these sm. I love you for this cos I can gush about the giant. And I really wanna toy with some holiday stuff, since Thanksgiving and then Christmas are... rapidly breathing down our necks and I need the cheer like I need the air that I breathe.

Warnings:

Sweet and maaaybe a little bit dirty in some parts. Given that it’s not gonna be anything too wild, kids can stay, I guess? Hinted/implied sexual situation,ftw.

Tagging:

Tag list is fucked rn. I gotta fix it with all the new urls of the people on it, I think. It’ll be done asap, I promise. If you want to be tagged in my writing, go to the tag doc linked below or ask me and I’ll add you as I’m fixing it.

Other Stuff:

[ ABOUT MY WRITING | MASTERLIST | TAG LIST DOC ]

Okay, first of all, this big guy loves Christmas. I believe I’ve mentioned this on one of the other headcanon lists I’ve done for him. If I haven’t, it’s worth a mention now. Christmas for Wardlow is a time to spend with his family and you, the person he loves most.

-- You guys are going to tree lots as early as the day after Thanksgiving. Of course, he makes a cute little date out of it, because this is going to be your first shared Christmas together, so... He stops for a big and filling breakfast at some place that you’ve never even heard of but they have the absolute best pancakes. And privacy. It’s more of an intimate setting than the typical hole in the wall diner? And it’s in this adorable little town. Picturesque. The kind of place you’d definitely consider settling down in. What he doesn’t tell you until you’re at the little diner enjoying your food is that this is not just a trip to secure the perfect Christmas tree for your place together... It’s also a weekend getaway. You’re blown away by it, because in the mess and hectic chaos of life, you’d completely forgotten that your birthday was also fast approaching.. And sadly, it would fall when he’d be back out on the road this year. You really hadn’t mentioned it to him because it had you down and you didn’t want to seem as if you were putting pressure on him over something as simple as ‘just another day’, either.

-- He definitely hadn’t forgotten. And Wardlow strikes me as the kind of man who will make backup plans. And happens to be very observant, especially when it comes to those he loves and cares about most. So he’d actually planned this out the day after travel schedules got released for the quarter.

-- You’re excited, to say the least. And the little b&b he’s booked is just oh so dreamy. Like it got ripped right out of the pages of a book you’ve read often and loved. The entire drive through the heavily forested roads leading up to this b&b were filled with you two talking and laughing, even playfully arguing over whether it was too early to put up a tree to begin with. He said it’s not, you say that it feels like it. But deep down, it’s because you know that he might still be gone around the holidays and if you were there alone and couldn’t go to him, you wouldn’t want the hassle and mess. He insists on going the next morning and getting this tree, however, so you finally allow him to win the ongoing debate about it.

You check into your room and as you’re walking up the stairs to it, he’s got his hands over your eyes. You’re swearing a little and laughing a lot and finally, you reach your room. When he opens the door and lets you step in, him stepping in right behind you, pressed right up against you from behind and towering over... You’re left stunned all over again because the room is all decked out. Scented candles waiting to be lit. Rose petals on the bed. He’s even somehow managed to get someone to grab you guys clothes for the next day. There’s a full on meal waiting, the delicious smell wafting through the room and out into the hall. You turn to him and he looks a litlte anxious like “Did I do too much?” because you hadn’t said anything... Rather than say anything, you choose to climb him like the tree he is compared to you and pull him into a very, very appreciative kiss. That quickly gets handsy. He’s chuckling against your mouth, “We have the whole afternoon, princess.. Is there something you wanna do?”

-- And of course there is. Clothes are slowly peeled off. He’s got you on your back in seconds. When his mouth breaks from your own to venture down your body, your legs fall open and by the time he’s finished with you at a little after 10 pm that night, the last thing you want to do is move. So you two lie there and cuddle, kissing in the glow of the candles that he finally got up and lit. he also gives a sheepish smile and raking a massive hand over the back of his head, he explains that he knew you had a thing for scented candles, so the candles are all yours and only a part of your birthday present.

-- Falling asleep with him is sheer heaven as always. Even when you’re fighting over the blanket or one or the other is snoring and keeping the other awake. You guys sleep in the next morning and finally, after shower and some more funtime there, you’re down in the dining area, eating another fantastic home cooked breakfast.

Now we’re getting to the actual tree shopping itself. Wardlow decides not to go to a tree lot like most would. Instead, with a laugh, he veers off onto a dirt road that leads right into the forest. You’re perplexed bc for the most part, Wardlow is Mr. By The Book... So, you really didn’t see why he’d suddenly choose to trespass and potentially consider cutting down an actual forest tree. You’re hella turned on by it, however and it maaaybe leads to a little light fooling around in his truck. With the snow surrounding the outside, covering the trees and making everything brighter, almost sparkling when the bleak sunshine breaks through the clouds gathered and reflects off of it. It’s fucking BEAUTIFUL, okay? BEAUTIFUL. When you two finally pry yourselves out of each other, you get out of the truck and Wardlow tells you, mostly to relax you bc he picks up on you worrying about the location that he knows the person who owns the land and this is where he always gets his trees. “Because a tree lot tree isn’t the same. It’s not, I don’t care who says otherwise.” and honestly? You’re not about to complain because the very image of him chopping down a tree... then lugging it back to his truck... has you hot and bothered all over again.

-- The imagery matches up to reality too. By the time the axe is a quarter of the way through the trunk of your chosen tree, he’s shirtless and a fine sheen of sweat is gathered against his skin. But you two are laughing and making jokes, a lot of stopping to make out and teasing one another. At one point, you fan yourself with napkins you found in his console as you’re sitting back in the truck watching and naturally, he decides to make a show of it, even pretending like he’s gonna take off his pants. Whew.

-- The tree is finally all cut down. You two are wrangling it back to the truck (to be honest, he totally could’ve gotten it himself, but you insist on helping, which he thinks is really, really cute and also lowkey hot, even though you’re swearing when it gets hung up in a snowbank or something) and as soon as it’s loaded, he pulls you against him for a kiss using the shirt he’d shed. “How about we go find something to eat, some cocoa and then we get headed back. We’ve still gotta get ornaments, princess.”

-- Something tells you that ornaments will NOT be gotten on that day. Because you can see that gleam in his eyes and you KNOW you’re in for it when you two finally reach your place again.

#wardlow #wardlow fanfiction #wardlow fanfic #wardlow imagine #wardlow imagines #wardlow headcanons #my fics; wardlow #my writing; wardlow #my headcanons;wardlow #// implied s*x here #// lots of fluff too

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wowweeharrystyles · 4 years

Text

Part 9 | The Jumpsuit, Falling & (more) Ripped Trousers | 6.1k words

Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Masterlist

a/n: I hope y’all are doing what you need to during this crazy time. All the love to you all !!! 💕also...a little bit of niall in this part... go stream HBW !!!

The loud knock on the door causes Harry and Aurora to jump and scramble to sit up on the couch.

“Heard there’s a curly headed boy in here!”

A once blonde, now brunette head pops into the doorway. If the irish accent wasn’t enough to give away who it was, his face surely does. Aurora messes with her hair and Harry wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, trying their best to compose themselves. They had made their way back to Harry’s dressing room from the empty arena before Harry was to be pulled away for training, soundcheck and all the usual pre show prep. One thing led to another and the episode of Friends Aurora had pressed play on was long forgotten.

“Niall!” Harry exclaims, jumping off the couch. He hugs his old friend as Aurora is frozen on the couch. Harry hadn’t even mentioned the possibility of Niall coming to the show tonight. It didn’t even cross Aurora’s mind that in Dublin (duh), that Niall might be in attendance. A deer in headlights describes Aurora best at this moment. “Haven’t seen ‘ur hair this messy in ages! Who do you have here with you?” Niall jokes, his laugh filling the space. When Harry steps out of the doorway to invite Niall in, he fixes his hair and Niall’s laughter stops. Niall lets out a surprised “Oh,” with a small laugh.

“Uh, Niall, this is Ror- uh, Aurora,” he corrects himself, a dopey smile forming on his face.

“Lovely to meet you, Aurora,” Niall offers a hand out to her.

“Wasn’t how I was intending to introduce the 2 of you, but here we are,” Harry adds.

“Uh, great to meet you as well, Niall,” Aurora says as she stands up. She shakes his hand. “Harry, you could’ve said he was coming,” Aurora comments directly to Harry.

“It wasn’t for sure yet and I kind of wanted it to be a surprise,” Harry tells Aurora.

“A surprise?” Niall questions. “For Aurora?” He continues to question as he gestures to Aurora, a small look of confusion on his face.

“Ugg,” Aurora groans, to no one in particular, “Harry, please don’t.”

“Hey, if you’re going to rub in my face that you were once a ‘Niall girl’,” he uses air quotes to pester her more, “then I’m going to have some fun with it.” Niall’s laugh echoes off the walls of the dressing room.

“I’m gonna need more of a story behind this,” Niall says through bouts of laughter.

Aurora groans again, rolling her eyes at Harry before turning back to Niall. “Wish we could've had this conversation over some drinks, but here we are.”

“We could get drinks right now, I know where the bar is,” Niall adds.

“I’m technically working… so drinking is a no,”

“But making out on the couch is fine?” Harry asks through a chuckle, Niall’s laugh joins in.

“Oh god, the 2 of you together is really gonna be like this huh?”

“Like what?” Harry asks.

“You 2 picking on me and just overall, chaotic.” The 2 former bandmates shrug their shoulders when they make eye contact.

“Anyways,” Niall circles back to the original request, “I need the story. Correct me if I’m wrong, but did Harry say ‘Niall girl’?”

“He sure did. I made the mistake to share that I once had One Direction posters on my wall growing up. Definitely pumped Harry’s ego a bit and I had to bring it down by informing him that I was a quote unquote a Niall Girl back then.” Aurora sighs and then laughs at the face Niall is making at Harry. “Ni, you don’t have a chance anymore, so stop even entertaining the thought in your head,” Harry says as he tosses an arm around Aurora’s shoulders.

“How much does it kill you that she had posters of me in her room?” Niall asks Harry.

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” Harry states with a straight face.

“Can we not talk about any of this anymore?” Aurora questions, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment still. Both Harry and Niall’s laughter fill the room once again and Aurora can’t help but smile at the 2 old friends.

Harry ushers them both to the empty couch and chairs to sit back down. Niall opts for the chair after grabbing a sparkling water from the fridge under the vanity counter. Niall seems carefree and comfortable. Harry doesn’t talk much about being in the band or the other guys much. It’s not that he avoids it at all costs. If it comes up he’ll talk but he doesn’t volunteer the conversation himself. Aurora does know that he keeps in touch with Niall the most. She had caught him giggling at something on his phone recently and when she asked what it was all he said was that Niall sent him a joke.

“I’ve seen the suits you’ve got our boy Harold in, they’re incredible, really,” Niall comments to Aurora.

“Oh, yeah, I only helped pick some of them out, thanks though,” Aurora says shyly.

“Don’t do that,” Harry interrupts. “You’ve done more than that.” Aurora only blushes slightly and shakes her head.

“Getting him in clothes is the hardest part, honestly,” Niall comments.

“Why does everyone say that?” Aurora questions. “Gemma made the same comment and Lambert alluded to it as well.”

“Harry over here was barely dressed half the time and would put up a fight when he was told to put pants or a shirt on for anything. Quite a show off back in the day,” Niall shares.

Aurora laughs, “Well, I haven’t had much trouble.”

“Think there’s something more in it for him when he listens,” Niall says.

Harry rolls his eyes at Niall. An alarm rings from Harry’s phone.

“I’ve gotta head to sound check, wanna come with, Ni?” Harry asks as he stands up. Niall agrees to join and the 2 boys stand up to leave.

“Have a good sound check,” Aurora says before pressing a kiss to his lips quickly. “Niall, seriously it was great meeting you. I’m assuming you’re staying for the show?” He nods, “Great, I’ll see you later then.”

“Great to meet you too. See you later, Aurora,” Niall says, his blue eyes bright and his irish accent strong.

| | | | |

Harry’s dressing room becomes a common room tonight and by the time Harry has to get ready, his whole band is in here. Niall’s tagged along with Harry since he got here earlier and Aurora has enjoyed the commotion for once. Niall is sharing a story about one of the many shows they had done together when Aurora finishes prepping Harry’s jumpsuit for the show. She joins Sarah on the couch while waiting for Harry to be done with Ayae.

“He falls flat on his arse,” Niall continues telling the story. “In front of a sold out arena. No idea what he even tripped on or anything, to this day.”

“Hey!” Harry interrupts. “There was a loose flap on the stage!” He defends.

“Buddy, I really don’t think there was, but keep telling people that if it makes you feel better.” Harry rolls his eyes at Niall.

“Ror, I’m ready!” Harry says as he walks towards the wardrobe cases. Aurora gets off the couch to help get him into the jumpsuit.

“Hey, Mully just messaged saying he was here,” Niall says to Harry. “I’m gonna go find him.” Harry and Niall hug for a moment, a few pats on the back, Niall wishing him good luck. Aurora smiles at the two. No love was lost between them. Though Aurora doesn’t know everything about what that time was like, she's grateful that behind all the rumors and drama Harry and Niall still get along like they did when they first met on the X Factor. She’s most grateful for the fact that Harry has someone who understands it all. Someone who can relate to him and someone to share those memories with. She’s supportive and understands what she can but she wasn’t there.

Harry’s band, Ayae and Helene follow Niall out the door leaving Aurora and Harry alone, just as it happens every night.

“Okay, here ya go,” Aurora says as she hands off the jump suit to Harry. He steps into the jumpsuit and pulls the sleeves up on his shoulders. He lets out a grunt when he goes to button it close. “What?” Aurora asks with a look of worry on her face.

“Uhm, fits a bit tighter than it did last,” Harry says slowly.

“Oh no…. Can you close it?”

“I mean, yeah, I think it’ll be fine, just not as roomy as it was for the Late Late Show.” Harry fastens the buttons up the front and adjusts the fabric in a few spots before he looks up to Aurora.

“Turn around for me,” she directs to inspect that it’s still okay to perform in. As he turns around Aurora’s jaw drops, “Oh.” The jumpsuit certainly fits tighter than it did last. “Uh, is it comfortable?” She stutters out.

“Uh yeah,” Harry moves around a bit. “Does it look okay?”

“Honest?”

“Well, yeah,” Harry says, slightly confused.

“So uh, it definitely fits tighter… but it looks really good.” It’s all that Aurora can say. Her brain actually cannot form anymore full sentences. It’s not that the jump suit looked bad when he wore it for the Kiwi performance on the Late Late Show almost a year ago, it’s just that it looks better than it did. Harry turns to Aurora to try to figure out what she’s thinking.

“What?” Harry asks when Aurora’s face is unreadable. He chuckles a little when her cheeks turn a light shade of pink under his gaze.

“Well your ass looks great.”

“Rory!” Harry yells, almost startled by the comment coming from her.

“What?! It’s the truth!” She says with a short laugh. “Let’s just say all those training sessions are doing their job.” Harry shakes his head, a small huff coming out of his mouth before a dimple inducing smile covers his face. He’s drawn towards Aurora and the look in her eyes. He can’t put his finger on it. When he gets his hands around her waist, instinctively he pulls her as close as she can get to him. Her hands grab on his shoulders and then slide down to his biceps. She lets out a small giggle as Harry presses his face into her neck, his lips landing on the soft skin below her ear. Aurora moves her hands to his chest to push him away from her to get him to stop tickling her neck with the soft touch of his lips. Pressing up to her toes, she kisses him square on the lips quickly before she pulls away from his hold. “Just don’t stop training.”

She pretends like nothing has happened and goes to grab Harry’s socks and shoes. She openly watches him as he puts them on. She follows him into the large, echoey bathroom as she always does. Hopping onto the counter she watches as he goes through his routine.

“So what’d you think of Niall?” Harry asks curiously, his face reads a hint of caution but also approval. Being the one member he has stayed in contact with the most, he’s hoping she likes him as much as he does. He’s also nervous. He’d be lying if he said the image of Aurora’s childhood bedroom with Niall’s face plastered on the walls wasn’t haunting his mind.

Aurora can see his brain churning as he asks the question and she smiles a little at the almost nervous look that is now on his face. “Crazy to meet him if I’m honest,” she shrugs. She sees Harry take a deep breath, his shoulders rising but not falling when he breathes out a shallow breath. “I’m glad you’ve kept in contact with him.” Aurora’s trying to direct the conversation to be about Niall and Harry not Niall and Aurora. She can tell he’s thinking too much. “Harry?” He hums at her as he finishes brushing his teeth. “You know, even though I had posters of Niall on my walls, I did take them down a long time ago. My mom found them in the back of my closet and they were there for a reason.” She sighs. He thinks too much and there’s reasons he thinks too much. She just doesn’t know why yet, but that conversation is for another day. “Babe,” at the pet name, Harry looks at her, “Niall wasn’t the one who took care of me when I burned my arm with a steamer. He doesn’t bring me coffee exactly how I like it or flirt with me by getting me new sneakers,” she laughs lightly. “He doesn’t make me laugh on a daily basis or know exactly when I could use a hug.” Now Aurora has hopped off the counter and is standing next to Harry, looking at him in the mirror. “He’s not you. He never will be no matter what. I may have had posters of him on my walls 4 years ago but that doesn’t matter anymore.” Aurora turns to face Harry and he follows her movement so they’re face to face now. She tucks a rogue curl back into place before continuing. “You’re all that matters, okay? I’m here, with you, yeah? Please stop thinking so much,” she pleads. Harry nods minutely. A small smile appears on his face, the cliche twinkle is back in his eye and he uses one hand to pull Aurora’s face to his, kissing her softly.

“You know I get in my head a lot,” Harry says quietly when they pull apart from each other. Aurora offers a small smile and sighs at him.

“I know, but you need to talk to me about it. Tell me when something isn’t sitting right, tell me anything. I can read you pretty well but I can only do so much.”

“Promise I’ll work on it as long as you promise me you’re a Harry girl now,” he mocks. Aurora groans as she pulls away from his hold.

“You know, you’re really good at ruining the moment?” She jokes as she walks back to the main part of the dressing room.

“You can’t deny you don’t adore it!” Harry yells back. She laughs and it echoes through both rooms and it makes Harry smile.

Aurora turns around when she hears him walk back through the door. There’s still a ghost of a smile on his face when he looks at her. She huffs, unable to form a thought when she goes to give the last look on his jumpsuit.

“What?” Harry questions, a sparkle in his eye.

“Nothing,” she brushes her thoughts away. Harry raises an eyebrow at her in question. “You look really good,” she admits with a shrug before turning away from him. She starts to pick up a few things to put away but Harry is quick to grab her waist and turn her around. She only sees the smile that’s covered his face for a moment before his lips are on hers.

| | | | |

Everyone has been spending the extra days off at the hotel’s private pool. They nap and read and just enjoy the time off. Harry and Aurora are sitting on a cushion covered wooden sectional that sits in the corner of the pool area covered by large yellow and white umbrellas. Regardless of the heat, Aurora snuggled into Harry’s side, his feet crossed at the ankle, propped up on the bench in front of them and his arm around her shoulders. He has one of his woven fedoras on and sunglasses covering his eyes. Aurora traces over the butterfly tattoo on his stomach, idly as he hums and rests his head on top of hers.

“This is nice,” he repeats for the hundredth time this afternoon. Aurora giggles in response. Harry turns his head and places a soft kiss to her hair. Harry starts humming again.

“Is that a new one?” Aurora asks.

“Ahhh not yet, just a little melody that’s been stuck in my head.”

“Are you writing for the next album?” She asks as she reaches for his cross necklace. Aurora fiddles with it between her thumb and pointer finger.

“Not purposefully. I’ll write whatever comes to me or record a voice note or something so I can use it later if I want. But not really thinking about the next album yet. I want to enjoy the tour and the first album more before I get into the next ” he shares, looking down at her.

“That makes sense. It seemed like it was always a quick turnaround for the band. Must be nice to enjoy it all and not have to think about the next thing when you’ve just started the first thing. ” She drops the necklace and her hand slides up the side of his neck and stops at his jawline. Aurora’s fingers trace lightly over the harshness of it.

“Yeah it’s been nice, more enjoyable” he smiles down at her. “Not that it wasn’t enjoyable-”

“Don’t have to explain yourself, I understand what you’re saying.” Aurora’s fingers don’t leave his jawline, only grip it harder to bring his face down to hers. His breath fans out across her face before his lips land on hers. She smiles when he pulls away for a brief moment. He mirrors her smile before going in to kiss her again. Between their smiles and the small giggles coming from both of them, they barely can connect their lips.

It’s when they’re laying in the same spot later, cold margaritas on the table nearby, the sun setting off in the distance when Aurora gets a glimpse of Harry that makes her heart swell. His face is soft as he enjoys the view. A tint of red covers the top of his cheeks and nose, the sun having made a mark. Everything feels so normal, so mundane. Three full days spent in the Australian sun has only made Aurora’s heart grow fonder of the curly headed boy that she’s tucked into. With nothing to do but enjoy each other’s company, laugh with their friends and soak up the sun, she’s had a lot of time to think about everything. She’s thought about how thankful she is that this is her life, that while working, this is the break she gets to take, that her job is to dress the man she’s falling in love with. She’s thought about that last part a lot. She’s not sure she’s falling in love with him so much as already fallen in love with him. She’s there. She fell and she fell hard and she’s there. She’s fallen so hard that a small glimpse of him in the light of the sunset is enough to make her want to give her whole self to him.

Aurora thinks about it the whole way back to the hotel room. Harry even asks why she’s so quiet. When she responds with “just thinking” he doesn’t stop the questioning there.

“Ror,” he whispers.

“What? You’re the only one who can think too much?” Aurora jokes as they walk into the elevator.

Harry sighs as a small smile ghosts his face, “what’re you thinking about, love?”

“Uhm, can I tell you once I’ve figured it out?”

Harry angles his body towards her so he can see her face completely. He pulls her closer to him with the hand that is at her waist. He kisses the top of her cheek then her temple. “Sure,” he says quietly, “just don’t go making up stories in that pretty little head of yours, okay?” Aurora nods.

Once they get back to the hotel room both of them take their turns to shower and get ready for bed. Aurora’s sitting on the bed, Harry’s rolling stone tshirt on and scrolling through her phone when Harry walks out of the bathroom.

“Did you call your mum?” he asks. Aurora mentioned that she wanted to when he hopped into the shower.

“Mom was asleep, but I called Leila,” Aurora explains.

“How is your sister?” He asks as he wrings out his hair with the towel one last time, tossing it back in the bathroom.

“Good…” she answers broadly, not totally focused on the conversation.

“Ror, you’re still thinking hard about something.”

“Yeah, no, I know. Promise I’m fine. Leila helped a bit.” Harry gives her a questioning look as he sits down on the bed with her. “I’m still trying to work it out in my head, okay?” He nods slowly at her. “We’re fine. I promise we are. Nothing to worry about,” she explains as she reaches for him. She’s endeared by the caring look in his eyes. He looks rested and calm and his skin has tanned a bit.

She pulls him into her rather than finding her spot tucked into his side. His hair is still damp and she knows if she touches it too much it’ll go all frizzy. So instead, she smoothes it down so it doesn’t tickle her neck too much. He willingly wraps his arms around her torso, his legs automatically finding her bare ones underneath the sheets and weaving with them. Subconsciously she starts to trace the ink that litters his arm.

“Ready for the show tomorrow?” Aurora asks after some silence.

“Yeah,” he answers slowly.

“Is it hard to go back to touringn after a small break?” She asks, curious. She always hated going back to school or work after long weekends or short trips. His job is different but it’s work, all the same.

“Uhm, it normally is a bit hard yeah, but feels a bit different now, this time.”

“What’d you mean by that?”

“It’s all a bit different now, used to be such a routine, go home for a few days or family and friends would come to me when I had a few days. It was always so hard when they left and I had to get back to work. Not that-”

“Not that you didn’t enjoy it,” Aurora finishes for him.

“I say that a lot, huh?”

“Don’t need to explain it to me, remember? I understand.” Harry sighs at Aurora’s words and lets his hand that's sitting on her hip find the hem of his t-shirt she’s wearing and slid underneath. He gives the skin at her hip a light squeeze before he lets the heat from his hand radiate on the skin there and rub circles into her flesh haphazardly.

“Right, well it was hard then cause I’d have to say goodbye and it was always for an unknown amount of time. I should’ve been going back to work well rested but I would stay up for hours in the night dreading having to leave or them leaving me.” Harry stops his movements and wraps his arms around Aurora tighter, his face burying itself in Aurora’s neck and breathing in the smell of her shampoo. He pulls his head away only for a moment to share the rest of his explanation. “But it’s different now because it’s my tour and it isn’t how it used to be and I’ve got you with me. And as long as you’re not planning on going anywhere I don't’ have to dread going back to work cause you’ll be there too.”

| | | | |

Aurora decides to watch from the mix tonight in Melbourne and by the time Harry makes his way to the Bstage she doesn’t regret the choice at all. Harry can spot her any night, but tonight is different. He catches a glimpse of her as he walks up the metal stairs, Mitch following not far behind. She still has on the black and white floral jacket. The one he wore years ago. The one he gave her, while sitting on the very stage he’s walking up. Only the stage was in an arena in a different continent. His smile mocked the glimmer of the gold foil on his suit and shined right up until the moment he focused on the next song.

“One, two, three, four,” he almost whispers into the mic. Mitch starts to play the guitar and Aurora’s heart swells when Harry starts singing ‘Sweet Creature.’

If anyone would ask Aurora what her favourite song of Harry’s is she’d probably end up listing the whole album. Right now though, her favourite is ‘Sweet Creature.’ If it were actually possible, his vocals would melt her heart into nothing. There’s something about it stripped down like this, it’s the most similar to how he sings when he’s on his own, when he’s with Aurora. It's the most similar to how he sounds when he’s in the shower or when he’s getting ready in the mornings. He’ll sing his current and old favourites and sometimes mess around with the melody of some of his own.

“You will bring me home,” he belts. “Sweet creature, sweet creature, when I run out of road,” he sings with his eyes closed, full heart and soul poured into each note. He lets the audience sing the next line. As Mitch’s guitar fills the speakers on its own and the audience screams louder, Aurora can tell Harry is trying to avoid turning in her direction but he can’t fight it. He turns his head to where she’s standing. She watches as his jaw softens. His eyes search the small section he knows Aurora’s standing in. When he finds her, a smile appears on his face. A dimple and the crinkles at his eyes follow the turn of his lips. His eyes twinkle. Maybe from the lights. Maybe it’s the result of the emotion of the song. Maybe it’s because he’s just seen the girl he’s in love with, singing along to his own song, in his old jacket with a look on her face that could be described as nothing short of absolute adoration.

He doesn’t linger long. He knows that he can’t stare at her from the stage forever and his cue is coming soon for the last line of the song.

“You will bring me home,” his voice sounds through the speakers, deep and clear. It rattles Aurora’s chest a bit.

Harry thanks Mitch and grabs his own guitar, now solo on the small stage. Even though Aurora can’t pick one favourite from Harry’s album she could give you at least her top 5 favourite One Direction songs. ‘If I Could Fly’ is without a doubt in the top 5. Aurora does think Harry’s version on his own is the best version of it. Every night she’s thoroughly entertained when Harry tries to quiet the audience before he asks them to sing the chorus for him. She can’t help but take on the smile that appears on his face when the entire audience is singing, in unison, the song he poured his heart into years ago.

As the song comes to an end and the opening of ‘Anna’ begins, Aurora’s eyes follow Harry as he walks down the stairs and back up the path that is littered with flowers and sparkles and signs and fans yelling his name. She sees the pile of flowers that sit on top of a crate at the edge of the mix near the bstage stairs and smiles. She can’t help but think how lucky she is to be standing here, wearing the Gucci jacket of dreams, getting to dress the rockstar that has just tossed his planet painted guitar over his chest and falling in love with him all at the same time.

| | | | |

The golden Calvin Klein suit is the last Aurora can take, she thinks. He screams sunshine in this. Just like that day in Amsterdam - so many things go back to that day in Amsterdam - the bright golden colour of the suit has the same effect that the yellow t-shirt did.

Aurora's tucked up in the corner of the couch in Harry’s dressing room. Harry is sitting in the chair in front of the vanity mirror, Ayae fixing his curls after Harry messed them up a few minutes ago. She can’t stop catching his eyes in the mirror and they both laugh quietly each time. When his hair is back in place and Harry thanks Ayae, he walks to where Aurora is on the couch. He raises an eyebrow up at her.

“You know,” Aurora starts, “there’s this thing,” she laughs nervously. “I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s gonna sound crazy, but you’re-you’re like,” she pauses before continuing, “sunshine. My own personal sunshine.” Harry tries to hide a smile as he places his hand on top of Aurora’s that is resting on her knee. He bends down and presses a kiss to the top of Aurora’s head.

“Don’t sound crazy to me, love. If I look like sunshine to you, then I'm your sunshine.”

Aurora pulls her hand out from underneath Harry's and grabs his face with both of them. She locks eyes with him for a short moment before pulling him down for a kiss.

| | | | |

Aurora and Helene are laughing while looking through the photos Helene took during the show tonight in Sydney. Some of the photos of Harry are quite entertaining to say the least.

“This one!” Aurora yells when Helene clicks to the next photo. “You have to post this one.” Helene laughs at Aurora’s eagerness. “It’s perfect.”

“Oh is it?” Helene pesters.

“His hair looks incredible. The lighting is perfect,” Aurora compliments. “And- and,” she stutters out, “he looks like sunshine.”

“You’re really in love with him, huh?” Helene asks with a newly serious tone. Aurora smiles at her before sighing.

“I mean, yeah,” she shrugs as if it’s not that scary. As if being in love with the world's biggest pop star isn’t something to be scared of. Like it’s not this terrifying idea, cause it’s not. At least not right at this moment.

He’s her sunshine and she’s in love.

| | | | |

“Do not tell me that was the sound of something ripping!” Aurora yells from across the large backstage space in Brisbane. She doesn’t dare to turn around to see the chaos that is happening surrounding the ping pong tables. She takes a deep breath as silence fills the room. Silence apart from Harry's laugh, that is.

“Oh, Rory,” Harry calls through fits of laughter.

When Aurora turns around her jaw drops and she has to force herself to take a deep breath so she doesn’t yell.

“15 minutes!” calls the stage manager. Aurora’s heart sinks before it starts to beat rapidly.

“Fucking hell,” she whispers to herself. “Take them off, I gotta fix ‘em,” she tells Harry as she reaches into her bag to find a needle and black thread.

“I’ll just put a different pair on. It’s fine,” Harry says as he walks towards Aurora.

“It’s not fine Harry. I’d have to steam another pair of pants, which will take more time than we have and anyways, we don’t have any other options. We only packed what was needed for the Australia shows.” Aurora is frustrated. 15 minutes before the show? Really?

“Oh,” is all Harry lets out as he slips out of the ripped pants.

“You just had to be doing trick shots right before the show, huh?” Aurora half laughs, half scolds as she sits down to stitch the rip up the inside of the leg of his pants.

“Sorry, Ror,” he offers as he begins to watch her get to work but his name is called back at the ping pong tables and he runs back to his game.

“Should probably put your shirt and jacket on at least!” Aurora calls after him, not looking up. “Won’t have a minute to spare once they're finished!” She doesn’t look up, too focused on the work at hand. It’s not till she hears the band and stage crew cheer not 2 minutes later that she looks up.

Harry’s standing at one end of the ping pong table with only his boxers and tall black socks on, a look of pride covering his face. The paddle outstretched in one hand and he’s taking in the cheers as he does on stage.

Now Aurora’s angry. Here she is doing her job, trying to fix the pants Harry has ripped almost the entire length of while Harry is off, still playing around, now 10 minutes till the show is supposed to begin.

“Rory!” he sings. “How’s my girl doing over here?”

“Not your girl right now,” she says shortly. She doesn’t look up to him. She just keeps focusing on weaving the thread in and out of the black fabric. She does see his feet stop in its place, just at the edge of her range of sight. Backstage begins to quiet down a bit.

Harry’s band gathers at the stage door ready to go when they're told to do so. There’s murmurs from the stage crew as they get everything ready. Aurora takes a deep breath to try and calm the shakiness in her hands.

“Ror, why’re you shaking?” Harry whispers. Aurora hears the click of Helene’s camera.

“Trying to fix your pants, less than 10 minutes till the show,” she answers quickly.

“I can go on stage late, it’s fine. Take your time, love.”

“Harry, please, I’m not your girl right now, I'm not ‘love’, I’m trying to do my job. Just let me fix these, I’ll call you when they’re ready. Now, go put on your tank and jacket, please.” Aurora isn’t messing around and Harry’s figured that out now.

“Yeah, okay,” he says solemnly. “Pushing start time by 10 minutes!” the stage manager announces instead of giving the 5 minute warning. “Officially, 15 minutes till new start time!

Although Aurora is angry with Harry for ripping his pants in the first place and now pushing back the show to accommodate her she relaxes a bit and her hands calm down.

A few minute pass and when she knots the final stitch she calls for Harry. Standing up from her spot she turns the pants right side out. When she finally looks away from the pants she sees Harry standing in front of her, the top half of his body much more covered than the bottom half.

“Thank you” he whispers to Aurora as he takes his pants from her. “I’m sorry,” he says as he buttons them close. When she meets his eyes she can’t help but smile softly at him. She sighs heavily, weaving the needle that’s still in her hand on the shoulder of her shirt, just like her mom always does.

“Out of all the suits to rip before the show it was the simple black Givency one. Really?” Aurora messes with the collar of his jacket quickly, pulling it so it sits evenly on his shoulders. “Gotta respect me when I’m working okay? I’m here to be your ‘Head of Wardrobe’ first.” Harry nods, understanding. “I know the line is blurry, but when I’m trying to fix your clothes in a timely manner and you’re acting like a spoiled rockstar, you gotta check yourself. I’ll be your girlfriend after the show and we can laugh about how you ripped the entire inside seam of your pants then. Right now, though, I’m annoyed and a little angry. You shouldn’t have been playing ping pong like that in your suit in the first place, but I am not your mother, so, yeah.” Aurora shakes her head.

“I’m sorry,” Harry offers again.

“Thank you, but it’s fine. We’ll figure this out eventually,’ Aurora shrugs. “You’re all set. Good luck,” she says as she pushes him towards the stage door.

“Be my girl for a minute?” Aurora’s eyebrows furrow at the question. “Just want a good luck kiss,” he explains.

“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Aurora says challengingly.

“You’re not making the line any clearer,” he challenges back.

“Shut up and let me kiss you,” Aurora states as she grabs his face in both of her hands. His hands find a grip on her waist before dipping his head down and meeting their lips lightly. He lets one hand drop, the other smoothing around her waist so he can hold her whole body with the one. He presses another kiss to her lips before he pulls away. He grabs her waist tightly once more and presses a kiss to her cheek.

She watches as the sound manager sets up his in-ear and weaves it through the back of his jacket. Harry adjusts the cords and the piece in his ear quickly and spares a last look at Aurora who’s standing where he left her, arms now crossed against her chest, smiling back at him. He mirrors her bright smile for a quick moment before turning around and disappearing through the doors.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #sequins & zippers #aurora on tour #harry styles fanfiction #one direction imagine

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shittyfandomimagines · 5 years

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“When did you walk out?” My moms' voice caught my attention, we were at our local cafe. I stayed at a friends house for a few days before I realized I honestly needed my mom the most.

“What do you mean?” I ask and she gives me a look, I hadn’t told her that I was taking a break from Luke. “I walked out last Thursday.” I sigh, I had already been caught by her. “Jenna had sent me a text this morning asking how you were holding up, I had no clue what she meant so I had to connect a few dots.” She pointed at a raspberry jam filled croissant, the worker handing it to her. I pointed to the double chocolate chip muffin. We paid for our stuff and walked to some empty seats.

“I don’t think I broke up with Luke but my heart sure as hell hurts as I have. I don’t know what’s wrong with us mom. It didn’t feel the same.” I use a fork to dissect it before I eat it.

“He hasn’t hit you or anything, right?” She looks up expectingly, I shake my head quickly. “No, we just argue nonstop. I didn’t feel loved anymore.”

“That’s what sucks about relationships, you lose a part of them every time something happens. You start to love them a little less only because you never opened those pretty eyes of yours.” She says while biting into the croissant.

“It’s like we never were on the same page, he was still an ocean away while I was stuck at home. We just didn’t feel the same and I just miss the old us.” I felt tears start to sting in my eyes, my heart was beating so quickly.

“You know what I think your issue is, the both of you really?” She sips on some water and I shrug. “You two never accepted that everything is going to change and you didn’t change with each other. You’ve always been horrible and change and that’s something Luke is constantly doing.”

“Well, it’s hard to keep up with someone who wants to change all of sudden and leave me out of it.” I was mad that he did change and I couldn’t keep up.

“Love isn’t just falling in love with a guy you met when you were 19 or 20. You have to fall in love with the boy who grew his hair out and put glitter on his eyelids. The guy who wears stars and lightning rods on his boot. He’s the same boy who had a lip ring and used a lot of hair wax. You can’t attach yourself to one version of him, you have to love every stage of him. If you want to spend the rest of your life with him, you’ve got to learn to accept that.” She munched on the food and I pushed my back, my feelings were all over the place which began to make me nauseous.

“When we argued mom, I told him if he walked out of the house, we were done. He walked out on me, told me I was living like a queen. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate his money because it’s more than enough, but I have my own job. I have money to buy myself shit, but he made me feel like a gold digger, an annoying gold digger.”

“You two need a serious heart to heart, it might end in a heartache greater than anything, a breakup will hurt you deeply. You built a house and a home within him, you have to decide if it’s time to light the house on fire. You can leave it to ashes or add another room.”

“Can we go back to your house?” I ask and she nods quickly. My heart was hurting and I could’ve sworn someone stuck a knife through it.

——

“Hi babe, it’s Luke, it’s been 3 weeks, I just wanted to know if we could grab a coffee at the place down the road from our house. I’ll be there tonight at 7 if you don’t show then I’ll know it’s really over. I’m sorry and I love you.” I read the text to my mom and she gave a look of sadness.

“Are you going?” She asks, she looked down at her watch. “I don’t know,” I mumbled, running my hand through my knotted hair. “You look awful, you only have an hour to get ready if so.” She stands up and I groan. “I don’t know mom, I’m indecisive.” I rub my temples.

“You at least need closure and so does he, even if you end it tonight after you talk, at least it ended with more than just leaving him alone at a coffee shop.”

“I guess.” I roll off the bed and made my way into the shower, more tears fell once I stood under the water. I just thought, which was scarier than anything, because I’ve stopped doing that for 2 weeks now. I don’t want to feel.

—

I parked outside of the cafe 10 minutes ago, it was now 7:12. I could see Luke inside of the coffee shop, he had his head down and a cup of iced coffee beside him. A drink in front of him and I could only assume it was supposed to be mine.

I didn’t want to get out of the car. This building held so many memories for us, this was the first place we came to the day after we moved in, we had no groceries or coffee. I see myself coming here at 2 am because it’s the only place around us that’s open all night, I had run out because Luke and I fought. I didn’t like all the memories here, I can’t imagine breaking up with him here...

I got out of the car, my head hung low the whole way down the sidewalk. Just as I went to grab the handle, it hit me roughly. “Fuck!” I groan and rub my hand that was throbbing from being hit. “I’m so sorry! Fuck!” I look up to see Luke; his ocean colored eyes were droopy, darker than usual, and red. My heart sunk more into the hollowness of my chest.

“H-hi. Do you want to come inside?” He was stuttering and I could see him shake a little. “Sure.” I walked ahead and sat at a random booth, he set the coffee in front of me and I sipped it.

“I messed up, big time. This is worse than it’s ever been before.” Luke spoke quietly and I couldn’t stand to look him in the eye, I’d fall back in immediately.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you. I sat in the car for 10 minutes wondering if I could ever look at this place the same if we broke up. I just think we were two kids who fell in love too quick and I don’t think I have any left in me.” He moved his hand toward me and I moved it away.

“I’m sorry for the things I said, the more I thought about it the past three weeks, the more I realized I basically made you out to be a gold digger. I know you’re needy and clingy, you have a job you do and spend that money on, you stay home every Saturday because you need relaxation. I get it and I should’ve never made you feel bad for that. I should’ve stayed home more, let you know I would take care of you, love you so much harder than ever. I’m just not the same as you knew when we first met and I want to become a version of a guy you can love now, I don’t want to lose you this suddenly.”

I finally looked up to him, his eyes were beyond full of tears, the bloodshot red was deeper than before. I took in how his curls were so untamed and his outfit didn’t match at all.

“I have a lot of myself up for you Luke, I don’t think I can give anymore. I don’t know if I can force myself to fall into an ocean knowing damn well I can’t swim. I get that we both change all the time, my mom pointed that out to me, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to adapt at this point.”

He just stared at me for a second, his eyes were searching for any type of hope. I turned my head away to watch the lights of cars dancing past.

“I’ve already talked to the band and to the company, I’m taking time off. I want to rediscover us, I feel like we haven’t had the best time together in ages. We can travel the world, stay at home with Piggy, who by the way, misses you tons. We could do anything, but I want to get to know you. Our bodies and souls might change, but my love for you never will.”

“That’s the issue Luke, I didn’t even feel loved. I felt like a roommate.” I sigh and he grabs my hand, holding it securely. “I know I’m an ass, I’m stone cold and hard to read, but I have never ever stopped loving you. I never stopped kissing your forehead when I came home, appreciating the lamps you left on, the cooked suppers in the fridge, I loved your sleeping figure beside mine. I’m sorry I didn’t show you but god I love you so much.” He rants and I just felt like my heart hurt worse.

“I don’t want to say yes to coming home and spend this time walking on eggshells, waiting for one of us to snap. I can’t live in a trapped moment forever, I don’t want to feel this way ever again.” I wipe the tears off quickly.

“Then its a deal, we get to meet each other all over again.” He smiles warmly and his eyes were sparkly again. I must’ve stared into them too long or there was some kind of voodoo going on, but I nodded along. “Fine.”

He sticks his hand out and I tilt my head slightly. “Hi, I’m Luke Hemmings. I’m originally from Australia and I moved to Cali about 3 years ago, want me to show you back to my house?” He flirts and I shake his hand slowly.

“Only if I get to sleep on the right side of that nice bed.”

“Oh so you’ve been in my house, are you a stalker? Should I be concerned?”

“No, not anymore.” I smile at him and he caught the drift.

“Good because my house was getting lonely without the girl who can make it a home.”

#luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings blurbs #luke hemmings angst #luke hemmings preference #luke hemmings masterlist #luke hemmings #lukehemminhgsblurbs #lukehemmingsimagines #lukehemmingasterlist #lukehemmingsangst #lukehemmingsprefernece #5sos #5sos blurb #5sos imagine #5sos preference #5sos masterlist #5sos angst

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jennifersylvesters · 5 years

Text

not so subtle - part three

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x reader Word Count: 4.3k~ Warning: swearing A/N: meant to post this yesterday, but was a bit overwhelmed with interviews. i actually immensely enjoyed working on this part, especially because i got to add more dialogue this time around. this is a halloween part aka me trying to get caught up to the current holiday shenanigans. as always, feedback is always appreciated/loved aka give me validation

If there a holiday that reigned supreme in your mind, it was definitely Halloween. An excuse to watch themed movies and binge out on sweets? Who could say no to that? And with the day after making it possible to purchase discounted candy, it made Halloween the ultimate holiday that keeps on giving.

While you didn’t discuss it, you secretly loved dressing up for Halloween. You liked being able to wear absurd outfits that you normally wouldn’t be able to wear besides that specific day. And ever since freshman year of college, you enjoyed the freedom of wearing a revealing costume without the consequence of your parents insisting that you change into warmer clothes. You liked how some guys would get hot and bothered by your outfit, often flirting like mad with you. Of course you couldn’t flirt for to save your life, but the attention was nice. And it was true what they said in Mean Girls: “Halloween is the one night a year when a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.”

This year you had been invited to tag along to one of the biggest Halloween bashes in Hollywood. Naturally your excitement had been at an all time high knowing that big celebrities would be in attendance. But it meant that you needed to step your costume game up. You couldn’t just go to a regular party store and grab whatever flattered you best. No, you needed something fun yet clever. It had to be appealing yet not generic that others could be wearing the same thing. You wanted to get attention on you, having guys ridiculously into you.

When you received your costume, you knew no one else would be wearing that, and that attention would definitely be on you. Except it wasn’t the way you hoped it would happen. Thanks a lot, Tom Holland.

Honestly it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Tom’s gestures of goodwill were now the worst. Long gone were the days of him just spotting you cash or comping your meals. Ever since the laundromat incident, he seemed determined to make it up to you. They just never turned out the way he hoped. The time he sent you a box of handmade chocolates? You just about choked to death when you realized he used salt instead of sugar. Those nice flowers he sent to your apartment? Turns out you were allergic to Peruvian lilies; the flowers made you break out like crazy.

Unless Emma’s name was attached to whatever excitement Tom seemed giddy about, it usually ended up a disaster. Your costume choice definitely fell into that category.

When you shared how ecstatic you were about getting to join Emma and Tom, you couldn’t help but wonder aloud what costume you should get. It was at that moment that Tom quickly volunteered to get you a costume. Naturally you hesitated. With how previous accidents had progressed, you couldn’t imagine things ending well in this scenario. You didn’t want to mess up this huge opportunity. But when Tom insisted you wouldn’t regret it, eyes pleading for you to take another chance, you reluctantly gave in.

Now you were wishing you hadn’t.

“How does someone get teletubby and tomb raider mixed up?” you seethed, stumbling around your apartment building. Your costume came the day of Halloween, the huge package arriving at your doorstep. Tom and Emma insisted you waited until they got there so they could watch your surprised expression. And surprised you were. Along with confused and angry.

Though Tom promised to get you a sexy costume, you had been delivered a bright red teletubby costume. Tom stammered as he claimed he ordered a Lara Croft outfit for you. Emma managed to convince you to at least try on the costume, stating you might actually like it when you wore it. Ha ha. Yeah right. If anything, it made your blood boil looking at how childish you looked.

“You look really cute!” Kimberly complimented your costume as you huffed around, trying to get used to the absurd amount of space it took up.

“That’s cause you’re wearing a costume you actually like” you snapped, turning to your roommate who currently wore a vagina costume. Honestly you weren’t even aware those existed till she proudly displayed it a week ago.

“I can now properly show boys where the clitoris is” she announced defiantly. “Who else can say their costume is a teaching moment?”

“Who would wanna say their costume is a teaching moment?” you grumbled under your breath.

“Teachers potentially. Maybe possibly even historians” she replied quickly, causing your irritation to rise.

“I think Kimmy’s costume is quite clever” her girlfriend, Sarah, piped up from the living room couch.

“Are you Sherlock Holmes?” Tom asked, eying Sarah’s ensemble. She tipped her deerstalker hat his direction as she flashed him a toothy grin.

“Ding ding. You are correct, Danny Zuko” Sarah responded. Tom beamed, pleased at himself that he got her costume right as well as her recognizing his attire. For the party he slicked back his hair like a greaser and gussied up as a member of the T Birds. If it wasn’t for his blunder, you might’ve complimented him. But he was currently on your shit list, which meant absolutely no compliments.

“Hope you don’t mind me asking, but why Sherlock Holmes?” Tom questioned, curiosity getting the best of him.

Sarah and Kimberly exchanged glances and sly smiles before Sarah turned to Tom. “Oh, you know. Just so when boys try to hit on me, I can say I’m on the case to find my heterosexuality which plot twist: it doesn’t exist.”

“Or you could do ‘I’ve just solved the case of whether or not this flirting works out in your favor. Turns out I will absolutely not be going home with you tonight’” Kimberly piped up. The two of them high fived one another before breaking out into giggles.

Even when the pair were being weird, you couldn’t deny how cute they were. Still, you were upset that you looked like a children's program character instead of a sexy goddess. Somehow your anger wasn’t just limited to Tom but to those having a better time in general.

“So you’re a vagina and Sherlock Holmes” you stated flatly. “You could’ve been Watson, Kimberly. Or a goddamn vagina and penis.” Both of them made a face at the latter body part. “Or fine! Two vaginas then! But nooo, you had to go and be a vagina and Sherlock Holmes. God, you guys are so weird” you rolled your eyes.

“We wanted to defy the typical costume choices, Y/N. And we’re just party hopping down Greek row with our friends; it’s not like we plan on impressing anyone. We just wanna have fun” Kimberly explained as she took Sarah’s hand in hers. She understood that your frustrations were misdirected so she kept her voice steady and patient.

Unlike you, Kimberly turned down Tom’s invitation to the Hollywood party. She had no interest in mingling with celebrities who would probably expect her to know their name. You knew how terrible she could get about differentiating the Chris’s.

“I mean, it is a bit strange of costume choice” Tom commented, attempting to take your side. He hoped that if he showed a bit of camaraderie, you might be a little more forgiving towards his blunder. Haha. Not today, Thomas.

“Says the kid who couldn’t tell the difference between tomb raider and teletubby” you snapped, hands resting on your waist irritatedly. Well, it rested on where your waist would be. The gigantic costume made it difficult for you to distinguish where any of your curves were.

“And how well do you know the female anatomy, Tom? Would you like to point out where the clitoris is on my costume?” Kimberly asked, something in her voice clearly egging him on. He knew better than to try and point out something like that, especially if he got it wrong; he would never live down that humiliation. So he shook his head and refused to make eye contact with either of you. The male took a seat on the couch next to Sarah who just laughed and patted his shoulder.

As Tom sullenly moped on the couch, Emma pulled you aside to your room.

“He meant well, Y/N” she attempted to reassure you.

“Yeah, that seems to be the typical Tom excuse at this point.” She gave you a look, letting you know to cool it.

“I get it. Obviously this isn’t the look you were going for-”

“Yeah, no kidding” you muttered under your breath.

“-But Tom was trying, okay? He really just wants to make you happy because he cares about you. He would not have gone through all that effort just to screw you over on purpose.” You knew she was right, but you just grumbled. “Tom thinks of you as a good friend, and you know he feels really bad about this.” Yeah yeah. “Just don’t hold this against him. Please? For me?”

Everything she was saying made sense, but a part of you wanted to hold on to your anger for just a little longer. Emma looked at you, waiting for a response. Letting out a dramatic groan, you nodded your head.

“Listen, Tom’s mistake aside, you are the cutest teletubby.”

“This isn’t exactly a sexy costume, Ems” you pointed out, but she persisted.

“Someone out there isn’t gonna care about sexy costumes. They’re just gonna think ‘wow! I cannot get over that adorable teletubby’. And they’re gonna want to get with you.”

“I feel like I should be worried about any guy that wants to hook up with a teletubby.” She rolled your eyes playfully at your comment.

“Someone out there is gonna agree with me and know you’re the cutest teletubby. You’re gonna be all that matters to them, Y/N. It’s not gonna be about the outfit; it’s going to be about you” she continued. “So do me a favor and not stay mad at Tom? Because your costume is gonna attract the person who’s right for you.”

The two of you shared a smile as she gently rubbed your mitten covered hand. “Danny Zuko’s really lucky to have you, Sandy” you joked.

Emma smiled and shrugged pretending to act nonchalant. “Oh, you know. Sandra Dee is truly the best” she responded as she flipped the synthetic hair of her wig.

The two of you headed out of your room and back into your living room only to come upon the sight of Sarah and Kimberly chanting for Tom to point out the clitoris. He looked downright miserable and unsure of himself. You snickered under your breath as Emma told the pair to knock it off.

Ten minutes later a large van came to pick all of you up to take you to the party. You could feel your jitters getting the best of you as you knee rapidly bounced up and down. “You look really great” Tom chimed as the vehicle came to a stop near the party entrance. You grunted out a ‘thanks’, knowing he only said that to make you feel better. Too bad it wasn’t working.

As soon as the car door opened, you hustled to make it in to the building. The last thing you wanted were paparazzi snapping photos of you as a guest. “Please don’t let me become a meme” you prayed as someone snapped a photo of you.

The building was packed, filled with star studded faces. You got multiple glances from those around you, but it wasn’t the way you hoped. Instead of “I’m totally into that chick” vibes, you received “that’s a massive teletubby” looks. You waddled around wishing something would just go right around celebrities for once.

Making your way towards the open bar, you felt something yank on your leg. Turning you spotted a small child in a dinosaur costume. “Erm, hello?” you greeted the girl as she gazed up at you in awe.

“Are you Po?” she asked, her tone hopeful you would say yes.

“I guess I am” you replied. Technically you were wearing a Po costume, which made you Po. You figured it wouldn’t be lying.

The girl’s face lit up as she proceeded to hug you. “Will you come meet daddy with me? Please?” she looked up from her tight hold.

You knew you shouldn’t get involved. After all, you didn’t even know this kid. Plus you just wanted to drink the night away if you weren’t going to enjoy your usual Halloween flirtations. You decided that you had to be firm and just say no. “Okay?” Crap.

Somehow she managed to convince you to pick her up as the two of you searched for her dad. “I’m India” she introduced herself.

“Very nice to meet you, India. Would you mind telling me where your father is now?”

“I think he’s around there” she gestured to your left and you followed her direction. “Oh! He’s right there!” she screeched as she pointed straight ahead. You winced at the shrillness ringing in your ear. “Daddy!” she squealed as she waved to a man also wearing a dinosaur costume. As her father turned around, you nearly dropped her as you realized who he was.

“Oh, there’s where you’ve been!” Chris Hemsworth called out as he approached you and his daughter.

“Y-You...You Thor” you croaked out, gesturing randomly with your free hand.

“That I am” he proudly agreed, taking no mind to your nervousness. “And are you taking care of my little girl?”

Right as you were about to say no, India chimed “Yes! Po is the best!” What the-

Two smaller children, one dressed up as a Dalmatian while the other wore a rhino costume, approached you eagerly. “It’s Po!” one of them cried out excitedly.

“Ah, it seems they’ve also taking a liking to you as well” Chris noted, watching as his twins comfortably moved to hold on to your legs. “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind the two boys tagging along as well.”

“I-uh-I” you stuttered, unsure of what to say. It sure looked as if you were a caretaker with the way they all clung to you. Were you even allowed to say no to Thor?

“Excellent! Glad to know they are in capable hands” he clapped his hands in delight, ignoring that you hadn’t actually gave an answer. He rustled his eldest child’s hair as he headed off.

“Alright then” you weakly called out to no one in particular. Sasha wrapped his chubby arms around your left leg as Tristan tugged on your other leg. Oh boy. You definitely weren’t expecting this. Letting out a deep sigh, you figured you could babysit for a bit. After all, it couldn’t be that hard.

What started off as just playing with three children ended up escalating to multiple kids. Apparently no child could resist the idea of playing with Po. You weren’t even sure how, but one child - whose damn demon of a child was it? - managed to climb your back and yanked viciously on your round antenna. You just about flung him off before remembering children were living human beings with parents that could easily sue you. Nope. Don’t want that.

So you did your best to entertain them, feeling yourself getting drained by their unwavering energy. Who the hell decided to hop these children on sugar? “Pick me up again!” India demanded, waving her arms up towards you.

“Say ‘please’” you instructed. If you were going to be their play friend, you at least wanted to get a decent amount of respect.

“Pleaaaase” she pleaded, hands grasping at the air wanting desperately to be carried.

“Good job, kiddo” you praised her as you picked her up and gently bounced her up and down. She giggled at your actions, clearly enjoying herself. Well, at least one of us is having a good time. All you wanted was to look and feel sexy for tonight, but obviously that went down the drain. Damn.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Harrison walking around the building. No surprise that he chose a costume that showed off his abs, choosing to dress up as a gladiator. He really only sported the top armor, going mostly shirtless and causing girls to gawk and fawn over him. In some ways you were jealous that he got to flaunt something while you were being mobbed by children. But mostly your mind repeatedly played the same sentence: Fuck Harrison Osterfield’s gladiator costume.

About an hour of being the children's companion, you managed to wrangle them off of you when you could feel your bladder getting full. With the massive costume, you knew there was no way you could get into the women’s restrooms without constantly bumping and potentially angering someone. So you settled for occupying one of the bigger family restrooms with single occupancy.

Except you couldn’t use the actual toilet. Thanks to all the stuffing in the suit, you struggled to grab the zipper at the back. You swore under your breath as your hands swatted towards the zipper, unable to grab it. You fumbled around, trying to figure a way out so you could enjoy the sweet release of peeing.

Bam! The bathroom door swung open and you yelped in surprise as a girl in a playboy bunny costume stumbled in. You internally cursed yourself for forgetting to lock the door. Well at least it was only her.

Psych. The girl dragged someone else by the hand, pulling none other than Harrison into your view.

“Oops!” the woman chirped as she spotted you.

“Oh, sorry m-PFFFTT” Harrison begun to apologize to who he assumed was a stranger but absolutely lost it at the sight of you. Your face turned as red as the costume, completely embarrassed in front of him.

Harrison’s female company tugged on his hand, clearly wanting to leave, but he couldn’t stop laughing. He howled loudly, squatting as tears came out of his eyes from laughing so hard.

You couldn’t get fast out of there enough.

No seriously. You actually couldn’t. The costume made it difficult for you to slip between the pair. So you awkwardly stood in front of them, shifting from leg to leg, still needing to pee like crazy.

The playboy bunny obviously did not find the situation as hilarious as Harrison. To her you were just some stranger in a childish costume. She let go of his hand and with a flip of her hair, she left. Harrison didn’t bother stopping her as he let his now free hand rest on his knee. He stood up slowly, still chuckling every couple seconds.

“Oh, man. I really needed a good laugh” he grinned, wiping away tears from his eyes.

“Great. And I really need Emma. So can you get out of here and go get her for me?” you asked impatiently. Despite asking him for a favor, your constant irritation with him never wavered.

“What’d you need Emma for? So you can get laughed at some more?” His grin widened, and you shoved his shoulder.

“No, smartass. I need to pee.” He raised an eyebrow, and you continued. “I can’t get this stupid zipper down, and I need her help so I can finally use the restroom.”

“Well jeez, Lil Skunk. I can help with that” he pointed out. Oh. This was true.

You really didn’t want him around you in general, but the choice of denying his help was outweighed by your need to use the toilet. “Fine” you conceded with a huff.

“All you have to do is ask me nicely” he added, a mischievous look dancing in his eyes.

“Are you kidding me?” you snapped. Of course Harrison Osterfield would come with terms and conditions for kindness. Obviously the laundromat incident must’ve been a fluke. Or perhaps he had a concussion that night which made him unaware of how kind he could actually be without special circumstances attached. That sounds about right.

“C’mon now. Not too difficult” he commented, crossing his arms as he waited for your polite attitude.

Maybe it was better to just pee in this costume. Kids did it all the time. You could join their league.

“Y/N, all you have to do is say ‘Harrison, I would love for you to help me out sooo much’” he assured you, knowing full well it would drive you mad.

“Osterfield. Help me before I pee in this costume” you gritted out.

“Say please” he called out in a singsong voice.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s not the magical word, Y/N” he tutted, shaking his head in fake disappointment.

“I’m gonna kill you, Osterfield” you fumed on the verge of murdering him.

“All you gotta do is say please.” It sounded so simple, yet you struggled to say that one word he craved to hear.

You furrowed your brows, glaring at his easygoing disposition. Had anyone ever been strangled by a teletubby before? Maybe tonight would be the night.

“Please” you finally caved.

“Of course, Lil Skunk. Anything for you.” He batted his eyelashes innocently. Fuck this guy.

You yanked off the costume head before turning around so he could unzip you. Within a couple of seconds, he easily slid the zipper down despite you struggling earlier for what felt like eternity. You let out a sigh of relief as you finally felt the weight of the costume sliding off.

Harrison’s eyes widened as you stepped out of the costume, surprised to see you wearing nothing but a lacy slip and nice lingerie. Before he could comment, you bunched up the costume and turned around to face him.

“Move it, Osterfield!” you barked, shoving the costume in his arms. “Just wait outside with the costume. Now get out so I can finally pee!” you informed him as you pushed him out of the bathroom.

Once you finished your business, you peeked your head out of the bathroom. Some part of you wondered if Harrison took off without a second thought. You wouldn’t put it past him to play a trick on you, especially on such a fitting night. Yet he stood outside the bathroom, peering at you when you opened the door. He smiled, head tilted ever so slightly as he took in your appearance. “Should I call you Lil Teletubby from now on?” he teased.

“Fuck off” you grumbled as you opened the door further to let him in.

He shut the door and locked it before helping you put back on your costume. Your right hand weighed on his bicep as you concentrated on slipping back into the suit. No notice was paid as Harrison eyed your figure. Yanking up the top portion, you shimmied slightly to get comfortable before he zipped you up.

Plopping the head back on, your costume was now complete once more. You waddled out of the bathroom with Harrison, making your way back to the festivities.

“You wanna tell me now or shall I wait for Tom?” he inquired, gently bumping your padded shoulder. You groaned, deciding to just explain what happened. You knew if he asked his best friend, the endless stream of “I’m sorry” texts would follow in suit. No thank you.

“Tom decided to order my costume. Made a mistake and chose teletubby instead of tomb raider. How one does that I have no idea. But he somehow did. So now I’m wearing this” you summarized up the predicament that fell upon you.

“That div” he chuckled. “Well, the costume certainly fits your personality.”

“Go fuck yourself, Osterfield.”

“C’mon. That was a good one. I deserve at least a high five for that.”

“What you deserve a swift kick in the nuts. And you’re definitely making me want to do that.” He laughed, obviously unbothered by your potential threat.

“Y’know, you didn’t have to wear that.” You grunted as he proceeded to gesture to the party goers. “I mean, look around. You could’ve just thrown on a pair of cat ears with your” -he paused, clearing his throat- “uh, outfit underneath your costume. You could’ve called it a day with just that.”

“What’s your point, Lil Shit?”

“I just wanna know why you wore that costume.”

Your brows furrowed as you stopped walking, trying to figure out your answer. Harrison hovered a couple inches away, watching you piece your thoughts together.

“I mean, as much as I’m not a fan of the costume, Emma was right about Tom. He put a lot of effort into trying to help me out” you admitted before giving your best casual shrug. “I dunno. I just don’t wanna feel ungrateful to such a nice guy, even if this definitely is in the top five dumbest things he’s done. Like there’s no way I would’ve been able to come here to a cool place like this if it wasn’t for him. And I mean, hey. There’s always next Halloween, right?”

Harrison leaned over and before you could even process what was happening, he kissed you tenderly on the cheek. “That’s very kind of you, love.” It was the second time he’s called you by that name, catching you by surprise. There was something soft and tender in his voice, making you feel special for the first time tonight.

Your heart raced as you bit down on your lip and you found yourself getting self conscious around him. Your eyes locked with one another and you took in the brightest blue eyes imaginable. Was he always this gentle? His eyes glanced at your lips, now gently parted and slightly glossy. Harrison turned away, rubbing the back of his neck.

That’s when you saw it: Harrison was blushing. The consistently cocky Harrison was getting red in the face. And it was over you? You didn’t even think that was a possibility, especially in your current state.

“See ya” he called out in a gravelly tone as he walked away, still refusing to make eye contact with you.

You watched his figure disappear into the crowd and were left with one question: what the hell just happened?

tag list: @sleepybesson, @butithasntkilledyouyet, @chims-kookies , @choke-me-sweet-pea, @highladyjel, @sleepwalkingdragon, @soccerstud004, @spider-mendes, @thefallenbibliophilequote

part four

#harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x you #harrison osterfield x y/n #haz osterfield #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x you #haz osterfield x y/n #haz osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield fanfiction #haz osterfield fic #haz osterfield fanfiction #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #my writing #fic: not so subtle

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minblush · 6 years

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Leave mimi alone. If you could get over your jealousy for one second you would see would a sweet person she is. I follow her because she doesn't look for fights unlike blogs like yours. Yet there are fights on her blog cause of people who don't have anything better to do like you.

so it’s been a while and i finally worked up any sort of courage to address all of this and i will do it under this one ask because out of all the ones mimi’s “fans” sent me, this one was the most civil

i’m still shocked that i got so many people attacking me over rightfully calling mimi out, and ofc there is no jealousy involved, i guess i just don’t understand why she is the blog that anyone would want defend, like let me summarize

she only gets notes because she is fast with her updates, why is she fast? she just takes updates from twitter and twitter translators a lot of the time without crediting and without any factchecking herself

she spreads unverified information and rumours because of it and got into trouble because of it more than once

she posts sasaeng information and photos taken outside of official schedules in the boys’ private time despite being criticized for it (like the jikook vacation)

she also still has the fact that she “stalks” the boys in her bio, even though i know for a fact people told her many times it’s inappropriate in the context of the fan culture in korea

she is very ignorant about mental illness (the post where she claims that jimin suffers from depression and was saved from it by jin as a fact is still up btw), the entertainment business in korea, colorism and racism (she thinks “reverse racism” is an actual thing lol) and she spreads her harmful opinions by writing essays about it to her large following

what bothers me personally a lot as a gay person, she is one of those obnoxious delusional shippers and normalizes that behaviour to her followers and also fetishizes gay men to a really ugly extent (i’m not talking here about normal shipping BTW I SHIP LOWKEY TOO, it’s about boundaries though, i’m talking about writing conspiracy theories and fetishizing, FETISHIZING, treating sexuality as a joke and treating it like a commodity, direct quote from one of her very “funny” posts: “BTS is gay ! Shippers : Of course. Why would I stan straight boys ? Who does that ?”)

(and yes as someone said in the tags, apparently she also did make racial jokes and jokes about north korea etc, but i haven’t seen those myself, only saw people mention it second hand so since i don’t have receipts i wasn’t going to include it initially)

and that is all before the jonghyun issue, which i feel like is kind of a culmination of a lot of what i dislike about her blog

she didn’t wait for an official confirmation from SM and immediately started posting about his death, all actual fanbases of jonghyun and shinee waited until after the confirmation to actually post about it, because can you imagine if it wasn’t true (no matter how real it may seem?), just like other actual bts fanbases most of these serious blogs wait for official confirmations for anything, unlike mimi who just jumps on any opportunity for notes and for her to be the news bearer. you could see people asking her to wait until the confirmation in the notes of her first posts, BUT SHE DIDN’T LISTEN, instead she let her posts spread and only added confirmation much later when it came out (which is what she does in general, spreads rumours / unconfirmed info, then when confirmation or denial comes out she edits the post and apologizes in some extremely lowkey way, despite her getting the heat for it she keeps repeating the same pattern)

her posts were made from the point of view of a bts fan instead of a human being, she was extremely tribal by saying things like that “as a bts fan, as an army” i offer my hand to shawol etc, “jonghyun took care of bts”

then she made her post about saying how we should be grateful the boys are under BigHit and not SM, because bighit supports the boys in expressing themselves about mental illness and provides help for them, blaming the company and the entertainment business for jonghyun’s death, showing her complete ignorance, not only do we not know what bighit is actually like behind the scenes (do people not remember the scandal where one of the managers hit jungkook on camera?), but the issue is that this didn’t apply to sm anyway… because…jonghyun was very outspoken about his issues with mental illness, so were other sm artists like taeyeon or leeteuk, there was/is even a support group for idols under sm that these guys as well as others like onew or yoona were a part of

and depression isn’t that simple, jonghyun had friends and outlets, but if anyone has ever been depressed or suicidal, then you as i would understand that sometimes that doesn’t matter, depression is a serious illness and the illness just won in this case, this is an opportunity to spread awareness about the illness, to urge people to seek treatment as well (jonghyun sought it himself) not try to analyze and pin it on any company or any circumstance

yet mimi linked jonghyun’s death to being oppressed by his company, by having to hold things on the inside, as if he didn’t talk about it candidly and didn’t express himself in his music

what i also found distasteful but i also can’t prove anything and people grieve differently, i still raised my eyebrows because when she lashed out at people who got rightfully angry for her for using this opportunity for notes and to make it about bts and bighit, she revealed that she was upset and cried because she thought about how it could’ve been “one of her idols” that this happened to and that she didn’t even know shinee that well… she was very coherent up until that point, but when people called her out she started to cry and be very emotional and started to talk about how she had liked shinee since debut and jonghyun was her favourite (so she has been following them for like 10 years? that is longer than i have been into kpop and i am OLD and have liked shinee since 2009.. so she’s been a fan that long and doesn’t even know the basics of what jjong was like and what he dealt with?) and then went onto analyze his lyrics and talk about how she should’ve known, and her blog transformed into other people consoling her despite her being the person that upset so many people with what she had done… that stuff doesn’t add up for me, but that is just speculation since grief is different for everyone etc, it’s just something i personally can’t buy considering how she behaves online a lot of the time

she said she was sorry without actually acknowledging what she did wrong and after people defended her vehemently she actually changed her tune and started to say things like how it was a misunderstanding and even asked her followers to approach any people who were still “misunderstanding” and let them know, which,,, what even? i suppose i’m party this to thank for all the people that told me i was an ugly/jealous loser that should delete and/or die

and despite her being like this, despite her never learning from her mistakes, people still keep defending her and attacking people that call her out, and why?

i would agree if it were one mistake, everyone always says.. let’s educate her instead of attacking her, let her learn from her mistakes, that’s what life is all about, right? i agree, people grow from their mistakes

but.. SHE NEVER LEARNS! she keeps repeating the same things, no matter how many times she gets in trouble, and you guys keep enabling her, i think it’s this culture of fans stanning other fans that creates toxic behaviour like this, why would she change? why would she learn? why would she start and mature, why? when she has so many people telling her that it’s okay, that she is right and everybody else is wrong everytime she messes up? i think people that send me those messages are complicit really

i just wonder, what will she have to do for you guys to see that she isn’t someone worth sticking up to to this extent, because due to this environment, she won’t learn?

is she the hill you guys want to die on?

i often see people saying that she does a lot for the fandom, but? she doesn’t actually do anything special, she basically takes from others and profits from them, if you follow actual update blogs that do their homework, like allforbts, ktaebwi, sweaterpawsjimin, or vlissful on twitter, you will see the difference right away.. those are the people that do work for the fandom, she redistributes and doesn’t even thank those that did the work, there are people that spend dozens of hours translating and researching, books worth of content, people that paid for japanese tv subcriptions so they can record those shows for you, those are the people that do a lot, reposting tweets, anyone can do that (and a lot of people do, which is fine as long as due credit is given, what i’m saying is… it isn’t special and doesn’t require any effort at all, so why worship someone for like… doing the bare minimum? and sometimes not even that?)

why would you guys go to such an extent to then attack people that called her out, and rightfully, you guys would tell me a person with depression and an actual fan of jonghyun, that “if you care about jonghyun so much why don’t you join him”

over mimi? over someone who acts like all that i described? is that worth it… i don’t understand this cult-like mentality, even if she were an actual angel that did save the fandom, what in the world would make this okay?

i now have anxiety every time i try to get on tumblr and will have to work to overcome it because you people told me to die over calling HER out while going to her and telling her how everyone else sucks and she is a lovely angel…

and why she doesn’t pick fights? i talked to her in the past and let me tell you… she is stubborn and won’t change her mind and when she sees she can’t out-argue and manipulate the person SHE BLOCKS THEM and doesn’t let them express their views on her blog, no she only lets views that paint her as a victim there, she doesn’t let her followers see any validand CONSTRUCTIVE criticism

that’s why she seems like she is above it, like she is only nice and the angel and people like me are scum for ever saying anything, she is very smart about that aspect of things. but she isn’t above criticism (and neither am i), she is a human being like me or you :/.

i’m not telling you to hate her or attack her, don’t please.., i’m just asking you to see her for what she is, someone who is notes and attention hungry, someone who refuses to learn from her mistakes and someone who actually flaunts her ignorance, please give your time and attention and thankfulness to people in the fandom that aren’t like that :( and mostly, don’t go around telling people that call her (or anyone) out to die like.. please?

if she wanted to defend herself she could always talk to me, or anyone, or address it in a constructive manner, instead of relying on her followers to do that for her while publishing dozens asks on her blog that praise her and tell her how everybody else is wrong

she isn’t a celebrity, she can speak for herself

the fact that she chooses to deal with things the way she does says it all, right?

just…please reconsider stanning other fans, it creates all this toxicity, nothing good comes out of it, that is mostly what i wanted to say

and she specifically isn’t worth all the hurt

thanks

#ask #anon #it took me so long to address this and i know no one will care at this point but #i had so many asks attacking me and i feel like tumblr isn't even safe for me anymore #and all over tHAT BLOG? really ugh

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bornofdragonstone · 6 years

Note

Hey I noticed that you’re a Romanogers shipper too and I’ve just been wondering how the rest of the ship has been feeling since Chris and Scarlett did that interview and spoke about how “romance hasn’t ever been in the air” for their characters? This broke my heart and seeing as how they already filmed Avengers 3 and 4 and Cap’s last film is 4, I’m guessing that means our ship will never become romantically canon 😫

Thank you so much for the ask! It means a lot and I can understand you wanting more opinions from our fan-base as I did when I first saw the interview.

A while ago I drafted a post on how I felt about the interview, the stage we are at in the mcu, why I still have hope - besides the interview - and why I was upset about our ship being written off/shot down romantically just because we are a bunch of nice, quite, respectful fans and I am gonna start it below. I hope it answers part of what you are looking for!

Okay, so I’m tagging this as romanogers because it is directed to my family and our ship, but it mentions other ships. This isn’t hating as I actually like a lot of other Steve/Nat ships but it is just my personal opinion on where the mcu is - and should be - going with all the relationships in IW and why I would be okay with our ship being shot down (not completely but us being brought down a peg in the Scarlett/Chris’ interview) but I’m just not and I want to explain why.

I am distorting the other ship names, because all though I respect every ship (except br*tasha sorry, I’m not hating, I just can’t but I respect the shippers cause you gotta be ballsy) and like a lot of them, I know if I was a diehard shipper, I wouldn’t want someone else explaining why they don’t think the ships are right for this stage of the story (like we have incorrectly been told), because after all - it is just my opinion and everyone is always free to theirs on my page.

Okay so, I love Chris & Scarlett, and I don’t blame them for the questions they get asked that they aren’t prepared for. But, shooting down a ship, even to friendship, even if they don’t mean to, seems pretty off and out of the left field. And by this, I mean they didn’t have to give a literal description of where we find them.

I appreciate the honesty, but how do we know it’s honesty as they are in the dark a lot about the whole plot and this was filmed months ago and they could have only had an idea of whether they would have any romantic scenes which doesn’t mean they aren’t or haven’t been romantically involved just that there isn’t any time for big scenes like that in the movie and Chris & Scarlett seemed pretty thrown off and unsure of an answer - which does lift my hopes a tad - plus they could’ve given us open ended answer or a hopeful answer that says there is development and a bond fans will be pleased with/or with not - but they didn’t which means there is an air of secrecy there.

Anyhow, I can BET my life that if St*ny, St*cky, or B*ckyNat got shot down (romantically) in one interview - this would be a whole separate conversation with people who I know to be more verbal and expressive. I know they weren’t saying NEVER, I know they weren’t saying anything bad but it does inspire feelings considering all we have been given/shown of these two characters pointed to ‘canon’.

I don’t feel hateful or resentful but I feel we have the right to feel annoyed and disappointed because that would never happen to those ships. St*ny & St*cky are both lgbtq ships and B*ckyNat is someone else’s canon (though so is romanogers but I think people forget about their son James), so they are protected against cast members saying anything as they would be majorly hated on by fans. But we are supposed to roll over, stop shipping (I know Chris wouldn’t want that) and be happy with what we are given - even if we can’t know yet?

Giving us all the romanogers content, the teasing, the promotions just to have one interview diminish thousands of shippers hearts like that *Gamora’s hand clicks dramatically* ?? It seems unfair to any shipper, let alone ones who have been sent backwards through a 180 degree wash like we have.

We know Steve and Natasha have the potential to be more as the last movie focused heavily on how conflicted Nat was over choosing sides. We were given flirting (also when Bruce was right there in the room, but everyone shrugs that off, lmao) and teasing and devotion and care and trust - just like many other ‘less likely of becoming canon’ ships in IW that I don’t believe could become canon, not because I hate them but because I know chances have already come and gone - like 6 years whilst romanogers has constantly shifted and developed and flowered quite beautifully within those years.

People say Clint & Natasha are the purest brotp (whilst I know there’s a few diehard ‘otp shippers’ I usually see that the shippers still ship because they are St*cky fans) yet they say romanogers - something we have seen grow onscreen - is the same and has the same development. And I don’t get it. The only similar thing about Clint*sha and Romanogers is that they both got baited the hell out of promotion-wise with no intention (it seems) of a follow up. I do love the “I owe him a debt/I owe you” parallels but I always saw that as more of a mirroring and an understanding into who Nat is and why she was so adamant in saving Clint because her and Steve were only at Step 2/6 of their development when this was paralleled.

The reason i can’t ship B*ckyNat or Clint*sha is because friendships are more important for going through and helping Nat through the shit they did (both in comics and canon) and romance doesn’t seem right to me just because they “saved” or were the only people to be decent at a certain stage of her life, hence why I ship her and Steve because they are both at a crossroads of sort but not the life altering ‘I need emotional support that is platonic’ kind of way that I feel Nat was at in those more challenging stages of her life.

Anyhow, I am trying to understand the meaning of their (Chris & Scarlett’s) words, why they said what they said, how it hurt me, the pieces of logical hope I have in my brain and only conclusion I can come to with their conflicting comments along with all the romanogers promotion, but lack of a follow through with vague interviews (though we know they have been pressed to each-others sides for three years), is that The Russo Brothers/Feige are trying to make a stand and show that they want to end Br*tasha and have Steve/Nat as close as possible to give us quality content and a possibly open end that Wheldon nearly annihilated - I guess this is all we could hope for after all.

I want to conclude, I’m not mad at Scarlett & Chris, I never could be. But I am trying to make sense of it all and these were my thoughts and feelings. I was deeply upset, but I managed to see reason and logic behind what they were saying, what I know and what we have been told of Br*tasha coming to an end - which is a positive along with what we know:

Natasha has moved past and buried those ‘feelings’ for Bruce as he had been gone a year in CACW - So I can understand the lingering smiles on his name in CW (which seems to me as some sort of closure, not the gaping wound that Mark is trying to stress it is) - but IW will be four years after the mess that was their relationship and I believe in Natasha and the producers/directors/Scarlett to do right by her character and have had development and growth past that unholy stage in her life.

½ of Br*tasha’s scenes in the trailer were two scenes of them in the same location cut together for all we know, and the other was yes, them standing close but looking to the sky and looking to be working with my boy Rhodey on an important machine - if that’s the only scenes of them and extent of their interaction besides their imminent end, how is that a strong contender/threat?

Chris is in 100% support of Romanogers and is always happy to talk about how strong their bond is so we have that.

And here are some points from this amazing and hopeful post by @kryptoniancape (sorry for the tag, gotta give credit where it’s due, please do tell me if you want me to take away your points) on the whole situation:

This may straight up be an attempt to mislead us.

The interviewer asked a million dollar question and we know the way Marvel is with spoilers. There was really no way they could honestly answer this unless Marvel wanted people to know going in, something was happening.

Imo, both Chris and Scarlett struggled a little bit to answer and seemed thrown off by the question, but this depends on your perception.

They were careful not to use any finite terms.

Scarlett uses the same answer and reasoning every time someone asks about Nat being romantically involved.

This interview was filmed months ago during filming, Chris and Scarlett may not have yet been exposed to the script for avengers 4, not to mention changes could have even been made to IW or Avengers 4 since then.

And of course, Kevin Feige stating that all hints and teases from previous films will be paid off in Infinity War so if they don’t he’s a fucking liar.

I have also said before, that we could have words as a statement to them being together/something more. We could have Bruce looking between them jealously (as Nat has done with Sharon a few times, and Steve has done with both Clint & Bruce and it would add to the list of parallels we have in our ship) and making a comment of closure (which is what has been confirmed for Br*tasha, but no romance) and she could say something like “He has always been there at some of the most important and life-changing stages, he has always been there. When Clint went home to his family, when Tony & you left, when Shield fell and the rug that kept me up since the red room was removed - it was him and I. Even in Sokovia after all those crazy and irrational ‘that’s not me’ plans of running away with you from the fight, the team and the world, he was there and that reminded me this life of the fight is me but I as long have friends and a team and a purpose and a way to survive, as long as I have him and my purpose, it is something I could happily die doing,” cause that, in my opinion, sums up their relationship and their development.

There could be words, there could be hints, there could be an open ending, jealousy. But overall, in the end, I have decided it doesn’t matter (though I am bummed) we know that they have always been and will continue to be each-other’s rock and emotional support. “They care about each-other more than any of the other avengers,” & “Natasha sees versions of herself in Steve but wants better for him than what she got,” & “When all of the other avengers go home, their home is each-other” which is a similar quote of a smaller point to larger quote of this: (I have had it saved on my laptop forever and can’t remember who said it or the source but it is someone’s official quote on the pair)

Answer: Nothing really to ponder on, it’s pretty straightforward. Surrogate means replacement. Steve and Natasha are evolving into that, which makes sense because they’ve got no one else to turn to. They’ve got no loved ones, no family, nothing. All they have is pretty much each-other when there are no missions to battle, their home is each other. This is how they get close and protective of each other. The Russos are quite clever and really know how to execute their relationship. It started off as work-wife, work-husband but it’s getting deeper and naturally it’ll be more and more intimate in TA:IW. They’ve got that slow-burn love, I feel (is then an added opinion, prediction).

My interpretation of that quote is that whilst Steve has the other avengers, it is stated Natasha is his constant and his partner. Whilst Steve has Bucky, he didn’t have the knowledge of him being alive until a few years of having to learn to survive in the new world (part of which was with Nat, after New York as we see him quite lost at the beginning of The Avengers but in CATWS they are partnered together and have worked pretty well together as a “well oiled machine” - despite Fury’s lies building mistrust but eventually helped them open up and see each other more clearly), whilst Nat has Clint, he has his family - that she is part of occasionally but not on the ‘we live together and always have each-other’s backs’ since he retired sort of way - that he goes home to, but Steve and Nat are fighters and they struggle with finding someone with “shared life experience” and say they can’t have a family but fighting is who they are and is their purpose when they are both right there but the timings weren’t right then I feel, now is,in my opinion.

Furthermore, Steve and Nat have been underground for three years. We are led to believe Sam has been too (My Poor Smol Birdy Third Wheel Son). But nothing happened? That is too difficult to believe - it’s harder to believe nothing actually happened as the Russos wanted and debated with making Nat his love interest in CATWS but decided against it cause they thought it would cheapen both characters and have her be ‘just a love interest’ (y’mean like she was for Bruce in AOU). But this could be their slow burn. Developing building trust, respect, synchronisation, friendship, unconditional love, romantic love slowly, subtly over all these movies together? That’d be epic - especially if they did it in a very low-key way.

From my perspective, Chris & Scarlett were thrown with the question because they probably got told the romance question wouldn’t be in the air as “there isn’t time for romance, we got a war to fight” but that doesn’t mean there couldn’t be more hints, tension or most indefinably the bond we have all loved can only be stronger with three years being together - intimately - close underground.

So there are my jumbled feelings! I wouldn’t lose hope. In my mind they are canon, if they are in yours too, nobody can take that away from you.

#romanogers #steve x natasha #captasha #capwidow

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thestarsaroundyourscars · 6 years

Text

I met you in the dark, you lit me up, ch 2

Chapter 2: The day after

Summary: In which Richie Tozier is dying to call Eddie Kaspbrak, aka the love of his life since last night, and ask him out on a date. But before he can do that, he has to explain to Stan and Mike why he ended up in their apartment and just how he went from a sulking mess to a love sick idiot in just one night. He must also convince Beverly to get him Eddie’s number. Not to mention get over his own doubts and nerves and actually call the kid.

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak

Words: 3,294

AO3 link

Chapter 1 link

tag list: @daddyphantomtbh enjoy <3

And I’m also tagging @richietoaster @yes-dillman-yes @beepbeeprichiellc and @thetheatregal because you commented on the first part and I thought you might want to read this one too, hope you all don’t mind <3

When Richie went to sleep earlier that day, he planned on sleeping till noon to the very least, but Stan, Mike and their cat, Noodles had a very different idea.

Richie knew his friends were morning people, and he had gotten used to sleeping through the noise of their morning routine after countless sleepovers in their years of friendship. What he was not used to was having a cat mistake his legs for something he could sharpen his nails with.

Luckily for Richie he had been too tired last night to take off his pants before he fell asleep on the couch and Noodles’ nails did more damage to the fabric than to his skin. He still felt it though and, in an attempt to shake the cat off, he kicked at it with his legs making both him and Noodles fall from the couch, but whereas Noodles landed gracefully on the floor, Richie most definitely didn’t, hitting his elbow against the coffee table on his way down.

“Fucking hell!” he shouted, rubbing at his injured arm. He tried to stand up only to get tangled up in the blankets and fall again, hitting his head this time, “This is all your fault, you stupid cat.”

“I can hear you Richard, leave Noodles alone” he heard Stan say from the kitchen.

“Tell your evil hairball of a pet to leave me alone then!”

“He is not evil. He is a sweetheart and he is harmless” Stan said.

“Harmless my ass, he was using my leg as his personal nail sharpener.”

“Well, you took over his couch so, can you blame him?”

“Sometimes I feel like you love this cat more than you love me, Stanley” Richie replied flatly while disentangling himself from the mess of blankets on the floor.

“More like, always” Stan answered. Richie could hear Mike laugh at that, “Especially considering said cat doesn’t wake me up in the middle of the night to ask if he can sleep over.”

“I already said I was sorry, if anything you should blame Beverly, she was the one who sexiled me” he said entering the kitchen. Stan was sitting on the counter sipping coffee from a mug, while Mike stood in front of the kitchen cooking breakfast, something delicious if the smell that filled the room was any indication, “Hiya, Mikey” he said and took a seat next to Stan.

“Hey Rich” Mike answered waving at him with the spatula.

“Even then” Stan replied, “you are to blame. If you had other friends you could’ve crashed at their place instead of ours.”

“Oh but who needs more friends when I already have you, Stan the man” Richie said throwing an arm around his friend’s shoulders and messily kissing his cheek.

“Uhh get off of me, you menace” said Stan, forcefully pushing Richie’s face away but failing to hide how the corners of his mouth were curling up in a smile.

“How about instead, you two get off my counter and go sit on a chair, you know, like normal people?” Mike said.

“Aww Mikey. You should know by now we are nowhere near normal, ain’t that right, Stanny?” Richie joked but they did get off the counter.

They made small talk while Mike finished cooking and Richie and Stan helped set the table. Then, before they sat down together to eat, Richie went to the bathroom and searched through the cabinets until he found some ibuprofen and took it, he didn’t get hangovers anymore, two years of college and years of being friends with Beverly Marsh will do that to you, but sometimes he did wake up with a headache.

I wonder how Eds is feeling though, he thinks, he seems like the kind of guy who does get hangovers after drinking too much, and he drank an awful lot last night. The thought of Eddie and the memory of last night brings a smile to his face, something both Stan and Mike notice when he joins them at the table.

“Okay, spill, what happened last night” said Stan.

“What?”

“You have the exact same stupid smile as you did when you showed up.”

“Can’t I just be happy, Stan?” Richie replied trying to shrug it off but he could feel his cheeks starting to pink up.

“Yes, you can, but Beverly called me yesterday afternoon saying you were sulking over the Heather thing again” Richie flinched at the mention of her name and Stan smiled sympathetically before continuing, “she said you refused to talk to her or go out or even eat and yet, here you are not even 24 hours later smiling and joking and you expect me to believe nothing happened?”

Richie considered bullshitting his way out of this one, but these were two of his closest friends and truth be told he was dying to tell someone about Eddie, so he sighed and said instead, “Fine, you’re right.”

“Of course I am, I know you better than anyone” Stan replied smugly, “now spill.”

Mike added, “Yeah Rich, tell us”.

“Fine, you nosy losers. So, after hours of being annoying Bev managed to drag me out of the apartment last night and we went to this bar. Then the guy Bev has been gushing about, Ben, shows up, right? So, Bev wasn’t exaggerating when she talked to you, I was in a really shitty mood cause of the whole Heather thing so when she went to say hi to him I stayed behind, cause I didn’t feel like being around anyone. Except she didn’t only say hi, she sat down to talk to him some more. So I drank for a while but then, when I was about to leave, this guy and I swear to you, he was hands down the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen, just sits next to me.”

“Ah, everything is starting to make sense now” Mike said grinning.

“Yeah and turns out, he knows my name and at first I freak out a bit cause weird, right? But then he gets so flustered and nervous and tries to explain and turns out he’s Ben’s friend and he saw me walk in with Bev and figured if our friends were going to ditch us we might as well keep each other company” Richie is full on grinning by now and Mike and Stan are both giving him a knowing look, “so we talked, got to know each other, then Bev tells me she’s leaving with Ben and that I need to find a place to stay, and he, Eddie, says that I can stay at his apartment”.

“Wait, so if he invited you to stay over, why did you come here instead?”

“Patience, Stanley dear. I did go to his apartment but he was drunk, I mean so was I, but that’s not the point. The point is, he wasn’t feeling well so it didn’t feel right for me to stay there, let alone do anything with him, even though he did ask me to. Stay, that is. And to kiss him. Gosh you should have seen him, he was pouting and it was the cutest fucking thing ever and…”

“Richie.”

“Right, focus. So I helped him to bed and told him I’d call him today, maybe ask him on out a date? I mean, I didn’t tell him that but I really, really want to ask him out. He’s just the most amazing guy and he’s so beautiful and his eyes are so fucking pretty, you guys, and truth be told I think I might be in love with him” he finishes and there’s that silly smile again. He can see Stan opening his mouth to say something but before he can, he adds “I know what you’re going to say…”

“Oh do you?” said Stan with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, you’re going to say that I just met him and that I can’t be in love with him”

“Actually, I was gonna say I’m glad you met this guy and that he was able to cheer you up. No matter what I say, I hate seeing you all mopey and miserable.”

Both he and Mike stared at him and Stanley just shrugged as if saying ’What?’, then Richie said, “Hold me, Stanley I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. In fact, I wish it was possible to screen shot a verbal conversation so that I could show it to you the next time you claim that you hate me.” The three of them laughed at that.

“When are you going to call him?” Mike asked.

“Well I need his number first” he said “don’t worry, I already told Bev to ask Ben for it, I just don’t think she has seen the message yet. Can’t blame her though, if it had been me getting laid last night I wouldn’t have read my messages either.”

As if on cue Richie’s phone rang. He went to get it and found Bev’s response to the text he sent her the night before.

Bev: Love of your life, huh? Aren't you getting a little bit ahead of yourself there buddy?

Richie: Uh no, he is the love of my life

He just doesn’t know it yet

Bev: Is that why he didn’t give you his number?

Richie: No, he didn’t give me his number because he was drunk and fell asleep before I could ask him for it

Bev: Wait, so you did leave with him? I thought you went to Stan and Mike's

Mike texted me saying that if Stan killed you, it was my fault for wanting to get laid

Which reminds me, thank you for telling them, asshole

Richie: You never said I couldn’t tell them? And I had to defend myself if I was to survive Stan’s wrath

But yeah, I did leave with Eddie

But I also went to their apartment

Bev: ??? That explains literally nothing

Richie: It's a long story, they can fill you in later.

RIGHT NOW I NEED YOU TO GET ME EDDIE'S NUMBER, WOMAN

Bev: You exposed me to them, why should I help you?

Richie: Because you love me

AND BECAUSE I'LL KILL YOU IF YOU GET BETWEEN ME AND MY LOVE

No, but seriously Bev I really like him and I want to ask him out and date him and love him

Please <3

Bev: Fine

But only because Ben saw your texts and he thinks it's cute you like Eddie so much

Richie: TELL BEN I FUCKING LOVE HIM

Bev: (215) 509-6995

Richie: YOU ARE THE FUCKING BEST, BEVERLY MARSH <3

Bev: I know

Now go get your man ;)

He saved the number under ’Eds <3’ and returned to the kitchen. Mike and Stan were cleaning up, so he joined them, all the while thinking what he was going to say to Eddie when he called him.

After they were done with the cleanup, Mike and Stan invited Richie to hang out with them. I can always call Eds later, he thought, he’s probably still asleep, so he said yes and stayed at their apartment. A few hours later he said his goodbyes, promised to tell them how everything turned out with Eddie and head back home.

Once he was there, Bev and Ben nowhere to be found, he took a shower and figured he might as well get some work done. He knew he was putting off calling Eddie but he told himself he was giving him time to recover from his imminent hangover, but the truth was that he was nervous, it had been a while since he had felt like this with anyone, especially someone he had just met and he was afraid of somehow ruining it before it even started.

After hours of stalling, he finally forced himself to grab the phone and dial Eddie’s number, he almost hung up especially because it was a while before Eddie answered and when he did answer Richie almost dropped the phone.

“Hello?”

“Eds! Hi!”

“Richie?” He heard the surprise in Eddie’s voice and he felt bad for not calling him earlier, it was clear he thought Richie wasn’t going to.

“The one and only. Sorry I didn’t call you earlier Eds”

“That’s okay” he didn’t sound convinced though.

“It’s just… I was a bit nervous I guess” Richie explained.

“Why would you be nervous?” Eddie asked, confused.

“I didn’t know if you actually wanted me to call you? I thought maybe last night was just the alcohol in you talking” Until he said it aloud Richie hadn’t realized it was true, he was worried that maybe sober Eddie didn’t like him as much as drunk Eddie had seemed to.

“Hey, you don’t have to be nervous. As embarrassed as I am for saying what I said… I meant all of it. I’m really glad you called, Richie.” He said softly and Richie smiled.

“Me too. I missed your voice, Eddie Spaghetti” and before Eddie could say something about the nickname, he added, “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, uh I’m good. I slept a lot, so. Bill actually checked of I was alive when he got home around noon and saw I wasn’t up yet” he chuckled, “and when I woke up I did have this horrible headache but the aspirins you left out for me helped, so thanks for that and, you know, everything else.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Eds” he said sincerely, “I’m just glad you’re all better now”.

“I do, and I also feel like I have to apologize to you. I’m sorry you had to see all of... that” Richie could practically hear the grimace in Eddie’s voice.

“Eds, stop worrying. It’s not the first time nor the last time I’ll have to deal with drunken sick people” he assured him, “ and I can promise you none of them were as adorable as you, so really it was my pleasure”.

“Oh God, please stop” Eddie said but he was laughing, “I am not adorable, and definitely not while laying sick on the bathroom floor”.

“Sorry babe, I meant what I said. Not even vomit can stop you from being attractive” he said and he knew that by now Eddie was probably blushing like crazy both at the nickname and what Richie said. God, I wish I could see his face right now, he thinks.

“You’re an idiot” Eddie replied and Richie smiled at the fondness with which he said it.

They both felt silent after that, it wasn’t an awkward silence but it made both of them anxious, they wanted to keep the conversation going but they didn’t know what to say. C’mon Tozier, they don’t call you Trashmouth for nothing, just say something, Richie said to himself.

“Uh, so I got attacked by a cat today” Seriously, out of all the things, that’s what you choose to say?

“You… what?” Eddie asked and he seemed to not know if he should take this seriously or if it was some joke.

“Stan and Mike’s cat, Noodles, attacked me. You would think a cat with a name like that would be a sweetheart but the truth is that he’s the spawn of Satan and he fucking hates me.”

Eddie chuckled, Richie could be so dramatic, “What happened?”

“He thought my leg was one of those things cats use to scratch their nails on?”

“A scratching post?”

Richie pauses, “is that what they’re called?”

“I think so”

“Huh, interesting. Anyways yeah, he did that.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“I mean, he messed up my jeans and when I tried to defend myself I fell from the couch and hit the coffee table, but I lived.”

Eddie exploded in laughter at that, Richie would have been offended if it wasn’t the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. Eventually, his laughter dissolved into giggles and Richie was sure he was going to die with how cute Eddie sounded.

“That sounds awful, I’m glad you made it out alive” Eddie said, still giggling.

“You don’t sound so concerned” Richie said with fake offense.

“Oh no, I am. I know cats can be dangerous.”

“Oh yeah? You ever been attacked by one?”

“Not attacked, but I used to be really allergic to them and there was this one time where I ended up in the hospital after Bill and I rescued a lost kitten from the rain and took him to his house” he explained.

“Seriously? Just picturing that is giving me a fucking cavity Eds, it’s too fucking sweet” A small Eddie carrying an even smaller kitten under the rain? Yeah, definitely the most adorable thing ever.

Eddie snorts and Richie can hear someone call his name in the background.

“Hold on a second, Rich” he tells him and then there are muffled voices, Eddie’s and some other guy’s, they conversation lasts a couple of seconds and then he’s back on the phone. “Sorry, that was Bill, I’m supposed to drive him to work and he has to go in a bit earlier than usual”.

“Oh. So you have to go?” Richie says, and tries to keep the disappointment out of his voice but fails miserably.

“Unfortunately” Richie took comfort in the fact that Eddie sounded just as upset as him to end the phone call, “But, uh, we could text? I mean, not while I’m driving of course, but you can text me and I’ll answer as soon as I can. If you want, that is.”

“Can’t get enough of me, can you, Spaghetti?” Richie joked, but the idea of continuing to talk to Eddie, even if it was through texts, excited him.

“Oh shut up, I could practically hear you pouting when I told you I had to go” Eddie replied in defense.

“You got me there” Richie admits. No point in denying it, he thinks.

There’s silence again and Richie hears who he guesses is Bill calling Eddie’s name.

“Shit, I really have to go Rich”

“Fine. But can I ask you something first?”

“You just did” He can hear the smirk in Eddie’s voice.

“Don’t be a smartass” he says but he’s laughing, “so, I wanted to know, if, you know, if maybe you would like to, I don’t know, go out? With me? Like, on a date?” He face palms at how that came out. Real fucking smooth, Tozier.

Eddie doesn’t answer right away and Richie starts to panic. He’s trying to decide whether he should apologize or just hang up, when Eddie answers, “I’d love to.”

“Oh, thank fuck” Richie exhales and both of them start laughing giddily.

It’s Eddie who talks first and he says, “Listen, Rich, Bill is one second away from stealing my car and driving himself to work so I really have to go, but let’s discuss the details over texts, okay?”

“Sure thing, Eds” Richie answers and he’s smiling so much his face is starting to hurt. Richie is glad he didn’t make this call while still on Mike and Stan’s apartment or with Beverly around, he would be in for so much teasing if he had.

“Great! Talk to you soon then” Eddie said.

“Bye, Eddie” He says and hangs up after Eddie’s small “Bye”.

He sits there, on his bed for a couple of minutes, still smiling. Then he opens the group chat he has with Beverly, Stan and Mike and types a message.

Guess who has a date with the most adorable boy in the history of forever?

And before either of them can answer, he sends second message.

That’s fucking right, you losers, it’s me!

Then he opens a new chat and texts Eddie, eager to start planning their first date.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #college au #stan uris #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #minor benverly #richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak x richie tozier #my writing #i met you in the dark you lit me up #chapter two #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #the losers club

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hoodedhavok · 6 years

Text

Hopeless II

a/n: okay so this is gonna be a shortish one, also i could’ve went two ways with this, continue on after their confrontation or write the parts before when they were in a relationship. I chose the former. there’ll be another part after this, and yeah, im not a fan of this tbh but feedback is definitely appreciated!!

part one

warnings: angst!!

You knew of him before you met him, you would occasionally see him in the coffee shop by your house, ordering a large black coffee with two shots of espresso and one sugar. You caught on that his order varied, depending on the time of day or his mood. His most frequent drink was a large black coffee, but on days where you noticed that his dark circles were more prominent, you heard him ask for two shots of espresso. He always seemed content but on those days you felt bad for him as he grumbled out his order like a stereotypical customer in need of their caffeine fix. However, while you had nearly memorized all three of his orders, you were yet to learn his name.

It was a Tuesday, nearing 8pm and you were in line for a mocha, with extra whip. You had been studying for exams, your notes scattered across the table you secured earlier. If not for the signature hair you wouldn’t have realized it was him in front of you. You paid attention to his order - large black coffee with three shots of espresso. Poor guy was probably having a shittier day than usual and your heart ached for him.

“Add mine to the order, will ya?” You shot a smile at the barista as you stepped to the side of him and tapped your card on the machine, effectively paying for his drink without giving him the time to protest. The idea that the baristas remembered your order made you happy but you also felt ashamed that you went so frequently they were able to remember it.

“And who do I owe the pleasure of buying my drink to?” You smiled at him, your brain blanking at your own name because of his damn good looks.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N.” You didn’t know what to focus on, the hair, the height, the eyes. The barista passed over his drink first but he remained.

“My name is Billy. Billy Russo.” Your drink was passed to you, “You really love whipped cream.” At the sight of your frown, he lightly shoved you. “I’ve seen you in here before, I’ve also seen you with whipped cream on your nose because you get excited over it.”

“You’ve noticed me before?” He nodded, the smile he had plastered on his face made the dark circles under his eyes near unnoticeable. The blush that creeped across your face earned a chuckle from him, however you refrained from revealing that you had also noticed him.

“Can you really blame me?” You both stepped away from the counter, him following you to your seat. “As lovely as this conversation was, I have to run, I’ll see you again Y/N?” You nodded, telling him to have a goodnight before sitting at your seat and debating whether or not studying was as important as squealing over the interaction to your best friend. You determined it was, but not before messaging them telling them that the large black coffee guy’s name was Billy.

~~~

You forced yourself away from the memories as you ordered your usual, the large mocha with extra whip that you took to-go now. No longer did you sit in the booth closest to the counter just so you could relish in hearing his voice. The baristas had changed, your visits became less frequent as the place was plagued with the memories of Billy. Of him sitting across from you as you highlighted notes, of him taking the free seat in front of you and handing you your drink. The memories suffocated you more now, and you didn’t think that was possible. But somehow it did, because on the television screen in the corner of the cafe played the news, BREAKING NEWS, William Russo, CEO of Anvil Security dead. You were grateful you didn’t have your drink yet, because you would have dropped it. You could feel your heartbeat quicken, no, no, no. This was not possible.

“Miss, your drink.” You blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, gratefully taking the drink and making your way to your car that was parked outside.

Your ears were ringing, it had been four days since the incident at your apartment. Four damn days. Your head hit the back of your seat as your hands shook, ignoring your phone’s constant ringing. Your breathing became quicker, tears began streaming down your face as you struggled to grasp the reality that Billy Russo was dead. Somehow, you found yourself answering your phone, you just wanted it to stop ringing.

“Miss. Y/L/N. You were listed as next of kin for William Russo, I regret to inform you he has recently passed away due to his injuries.” You squeezed your eyes shut, you didn’t want to live in a world without him - even if he was a murderer. “I’m sorry for your loss.” You hung the phone up, and wiped the tears that stained your cheek. You took a shaky breath and looked up realizing that whatever injuries he had were more serious than they had told you over the phone. Your phone rang again, Frank-enstein. The caller-id had displayed. You sent it to voicemail before shutting your phone off and driving back to your apartment.

You barely made it to your couch, you grabbed the throw pillow and held it close to your chest as you sobbed. You never wanted him dead, you could never want him dead. Billy was your everything a few years ago and it was easy to deal with it because you knew if you needed him he was a call away. But now, he was gone. Completely. And he thought you hated him. You remembered the look on his face when he left your apartment that night, the hurt in his eyes as he walked off. Oh god, oh god, oh god. He died thinking you hated him, you didn’t see him in the hospital, you left him alone. Your sobs intensified at the thought, your body shuddered as the grief suffocated you.

You stayed like that for hours, eventually your sobs stopped and you had fallen asleep, curled into the throw pillow. You had awoken to the sound of knocking, someone was at your door and from what you could assume from the knocks, they seemed pissed.

“Y/N if you don’t open this door now, I will knock it down!” You recognized Frank’s voice as you forcibly uncurled yourself, your legs aching as you walked across the living room to the door.

“What do you want.” You couldn’t imagine your appearance, your hair was probably a mess and it was likely your eyes were red and swollen.

“You look like crap.” He held up a drink, reminding you that you had forgotten your drink in your car. “I brought you coffee.” Frank was many things, but he could never make your cup of coffee the way you liked it. Nonetheless, you thanked him and let him inside.

“Ya know, I know he was a murderer and all that, but fuck it hurts.” You confessed, Frank nodded, part of him felt empty at the loss of his former best friend.

“It’s okay to miss him.” You only nodded, running a hand through your knotted hair. You could see his eye movements, scanning your face for any emotion other than grief.

“Do you know what happened?” Frank nodded and motioned for you to sit down as he went through what occured within the past few weeks. Detailing how he discovered Billy was working for Rawlins, detailing what Billy did and finally telling you something you already knew, Billy was aware of the planned murders of Frank’s family.

“He didn’t say anything because of me.” Your voice was soft as you confessed, “Rawlins had threatened me before, and he told Billy that if he interfered, I was gonna pay the damn consequence.” Frank scanned your face, trying to look for a sign of dishonesty but found none.

“I’m sorry.” Frank continued to tell you about the incident at Curtis’ and told you to the part of him scraping Billy’s head against the mirror. You were silent, your mind racing at the information given to you. “I didn’t kill him though, he needed to live with that shit. He needed to be reminded of this every damn day, just like I am.”

“Do you know his cause of death?” Frank shook his head, watching as you closed your eyes and took deep breaths. “He died of his fucking injuries.” Your voice leveled out, anger dripping from them as you stood. “He died of the fucking injuries you inflicted on him!” Your voice had raised, a near shout when you addressed Frank. “The only person who caused suffering to was me Frank. Because god, I could live with being away from him but knowing he was still safe. But he’s dead now!” Frank stood up and took a step forward, his hands reaching up to your shoulders to steady you. You collapsed into his arms, your grief consuming you as he softly hummed to calm you down.

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t want to blame him for this, Billy made these choices, choices that led him down the wrong path.

~~~

A letter came a month after his funeral, a month after you resumed wearing the ring he once gave you. The handwriting was too familiar to you, the messy scrawl made your heart ache more.

Y/N,

I’m sorry. I came to you that night as a goodbye and to see if you still cared. I wish I could do that night over again, and not hold that knife against your throat because maybe you would have greeted me like you used to. I know you’ll analyze the date on the letter and I know you’ll realize I’m alive. I’m not the same man you fell in love with, I mean this figuratively and literally. Perhaps we’ll meet again a few years from now, hopefully you’ll let me buy you the drink this time.

With all my love,

B.R.

tagging: @anamarierosee @ninjathrowingstork @ivegotillegalsinmybottom @nyotauhura @sunaeroglu @king4thesirens @jeffreydeanmorgans @untitledandrandom @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @astceaa @lalafral @brought-by-wind @nostalgic-uncertainty @deathbeforeboringfonts @anolympianhero @tiredofthisgeneration

@amateuratheart @whitepanthergirl @princesscassiebaratheon @l-l-c-m-w-b @haritini2000 @timeless-flogging @icecoldghost @rln108 @azure-winter-crow @wonderwoman292 @lizhart1701 @goldesteins @thinemineours @misschief1996 @salior-guardian96 @sippindacres @anne-kollay (yes i tagged everyone who liked the first part, sue me)

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #ben barnes #my writing

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damonsbitchx · 7 years

Text

Haunted

Characters/pairings: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader, Rowena, brief Crowley and Castiel, Charlie

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, A LOT of angst, a shit ton of angst, a few curse words, it’s just pure angst and sadness

Word Count: 3420

A/N: I would just like to apologize profusely, first off. This fic has been in the works for a maybe two or three months now. I went searching for some Imagine gifs and found the one below which lead to the idea for this fic. It’s been through several layers of revision and was looked over like 5 layers ago by my Soulmate, Esther. So, all mistakes are mine. I’m honestly very sorry, but holy hell, I really like how it turned out. I am planning on writing a second part if y’all like this, but I’m not completely sure yet.

Italics is context, just to add to the emotional kick in the teeth.

If you would like to be added or removed from a tag list or would like to make a request, please send me an ask!

Eleven years ago, Sam and Dean rolled into a small town in Wisconsin on account of a murderous clown. By the time they found and killed it, four sets of parents had already been murdered, yours being the last. Your parents became those victims in the movies that would’ve had a chance if the heroes had just gotten their shit together five minutes earlier.

You stood frozen in the middle of the living room while the two very tall men dodged the lamps and kitchen knives being flung at them. In between each object thrown, one would lunge at the clown in desperate attempts to grab him.

The clown finally hit the floor ten feet away from you with a thump. You stood there paralyzed, staring up with wide eyes at the men who had finally emerged from the hallway. The shorter one frowned, glancing at the taller one, but he was just staring back at you with a pitiful look in his eyes.

A huge smirk grew on Rowena’s face as she read.

“What are you smiling for?” you barked at the witch.

“Oh, no reason,” she breathed, her thick accent coating the air.

Sam pushed his shoulders back, lunging towards her, but you quickly cut him off with your arm. He huffed in frustration at the look you shot him. You whipped your head back around to her.

“What did you find?” you demanded through gritted teeth. She smiled her wicked little smirk and you could practically feel the anger steaming off of Sam. Rowena frowned at him.

“A spell,” she squeaked.

You stared at her flatly, cocking your eyebrow after a few moments. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

“I found a spell to help your brother, but,” she paused, dragging it on much longer than needed. You were beginning to lose patience and she could tell when you shifted your weight, your expression full of annoyance.

“I’ll need someone to translate it,” she beamed.

“Okay, how do we do that?” Sam huffed.

“I believe your friend can assist there,” she gestured to Charlie whose eyes met yours. You nodded at her.

“Let me see it,” Charlie approached Rowena, reaching out to take the book.

She looked over the page for a few moments, the air thick with anticipation.

“Yeah, this is simple,” she nodded. You felt a wave of relief wash over you. Maybe you guys would finally catch a break.

“But what about the demons who are after that book?” Sam cut in.

“Crowley, are you sure you can’t call these guys off?” you asked him.

“They won’t listen to me,” Crowley shrugged. You rolled your eyes but didn’t pursue him any further.

“Y/N, it’s okay, I got this,” Charlie smiled at you. You couldn’t convince yourself to smile back though.

“I can do it,” you blurted out very suddenly. Everyone whipped their heads around, staring at you.

“What?” Sam and Charlie barked in unison.

“Before you say anything, just hear me out,” you pleaded. “Charlie said it herself, it’s an easy decode, but it won’t take the demons very long to find us and figure out what we’re up to. Once they do that, they’ll be gunning for her and it’s not like she can decode it here because she doesn’t have the right equipment-”

“Plus, Rowena needs me to translate a much more advanced list of ingredients, so you’re going to sacrifice yourself. A typical Winchester move,” Charlie huffed, rolling her eyes. Your stomach twister slightly at her words.

“Look, they need you here more than they need me and I owe it to Dean after all he’s done for me. I’m the only one who can do this. I know I can do it, please, just let me go,” you pleaded.

They all exchanged glances, considering the situation before turning back towards you.

“There’s no other way, Sam, you and I both know it,” you said.

“No, Y/N, you can’t,” Charlie insisted.

“Charlie, I want to, please. I’m not a little kid anymore and I owe this to Dean,” I pleaded.

Charlie, Sam, and Cass all shared looks.

“Okay,” Sam decided out loud.

“Sam,” Castiel cut in. “Dean will be furious if you let her go,” he spoke in his usual low voice. Sam sighed gently.

“I know Cass, I do, but we don’t have any other choice.” Castiel frowned, but he didn’t argue.

Charlie sighed. “I can slow the demons and give Y/N a fighting chance. We know where they’ll be, I can set a trap,” Charlie added.

And that was it. Charlie set the trap before attempting the difficult decoding of the ingredients for the spell, Castiel stayed to keep an eye on Crowley and Rowena, and Sam stayed so Dean had someone to yell at when he found out what they had done. All Sam could do was pray that you’d be okay.

You never found out exactly why they took you in. They gave you many different reasons. Sympathy, too much knowledge, guilt, but they never decided on one sole reason and you never pressed them.

You never pressed them because it didn’t matter to you why they took you anymore. All that mattered was they saved you from a life that could’ve messed you up even worse than you had already been and they loved you with all their hearts.

There was an incident when you were a teenager and it took an Angel manipulating one of your dreams and showing you just how bad of a life could’ve been if they hadn’t taken you. All your anger with them cleared up for the most part after that.

How could you argue with it anyway? They didn’t have to take you in, they took you out of their own free will. These two, huge men who fought monsters for a living and had both been to hell at least once in their lives, found it in their hearts to love and care for you. They were so gentle with you.

You were safe with them and they made you feel apart of the family. You were a Winchester and leaving that name and everything that came with it behind was the hardest part.

You were fiercely determined to get this spell decoded for Rowena before the demons finally caught up to you. You knew, going in, that you weren’t going to make it out, but Dean was counting on this spell. He wasn’t going to be happy when he found out about your stupidity, but it was alright, he’d get over it. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself of.

You drove like mad for seven hours before finally reaching Aurora, Colorado and finding a dingy motel to shack up in. You quickly painted some sigils and symbols on the walls to ward against everything you could think of, hoping nothing would find you until you had sent the translation, at least. Then, you got to work.

Three hours later you were so close to translating the spell, you could almost feel the relief. Your eyes burned and your heart was still racing, but you kept typing until you finished the last of it. Now, all you had to do was wait for the program to spit out the end results. Your phone buzzed for the tenth time that hour. It was Charlie, checking up on you.

Hey Y/N, how’s it going?

Good, I’m almost there. Should have the spell within the hour.

Awesome, stay safe. Love you.

You too.

Suddenly, the window above the table shattered, spitting shards of glass at you. You ducked down with a gasp, throwing your arms in front of your face to protect it. Then, almost like it was timed, your program dinged, indicating that the translating was finally finished and you locked eyes with a demon. Your stomach twisted violently as you stood up and grabbed your chair, then flung it at the demon who was about to launch himself at you. You frantically grabbed the laptop and dashed across the room.

Your back slammed into the white divider on the opposite side of the room and you immediately ripped the lamp from the wall and hurled it at him before doing anything else. Next, you frantically fumbled to attach the translation to an email while the demon stumbled around in shards of pale green ceramic. Your stomach felt lodged in your throat as you waited for the e-mail to send, but it was sending at an agonizingly slow rate. Your wide eyes flicked from the screen to the demon and back as he turned around in search of you.

“C’mon, c’mon,” you mumbled to your computer, shaking it slightly in frustration.

The file was almost done sending and you couldn’t find anything else to throw nor could you move from your spot. He shot you an evil smirk and pulled a large knife from his jacket, making your heart stop. He launched himself at you with all his strength, causing you to panic and reflexively stick your leg out to stop him. You faintly heard the swipe sound of the e-mail sending and felt a red hot pain searing shoot through your leg. The demon was a few feet away from you clutching at his stomach, so you kicked his chin for good measure, sending him flying backward.

“Thank God, the email sent,” you mused.

You winced at the pain blossoming in your left thigh, realizing there was a huge gash in your leg now, but the shock couldn’t last long because the demon would come for the computer next.

You limped over to the small table where the lamp had once been and raised the computer high over your head. With all your strength, you sent it hurtling at the corner of the table and

CRASH.

You dropped the remains of the smashed device to the floor, stumbling back against the wall and noticing your vision turning slightly fuzzy. You glanced across the room, catching a glimpse of the demons furious expression.

“Take that… you sunuva bitch,” you mumbled, smiling weakly.

He growled, running at you with his fist raised, but you were still alert enough to respond. You grabbed the telephone from the stand and caught his wrist in the cord, effectively diffusing his attack and kicking him in the stomach. He stumbled backward again, his wrist still caught in the wire, causing him to rip the phone from the wall. You were reminded of the gash in your leg when you began to feel nauseous and fuzzy, but you had to keep moving.

You dashed as quickly across the room as you could, slipping into the bathroom and locking the door. You frantically searched the bathroom for something that could help you, only to find that there was nothing. You leaned against the wall, praying that maybe your brothers would swoop in now and save the day.

“Y/N, I’m home!” Dean called, letting it ring down the hallway, but there was no answer.

“Y/N/N, I got your favorite, curly fries and burgers, put down the books for a while and come eat!” he hollered again, but there was no answer.

He spent a few minutes looking for you, making sure to check all your favorite hiding places, but came up dry. So, he went to look for Sam, Charlie, and Cass who were probably still down with Rowena and Crowley. Maybe you went with them.

He found them exactly where he knew he would, but you were nowhere in sight. He didn’t like the whole Rowena and Crowley situation at all but wished Sam would at least keep him in the loop.

And obviously, it was for a good reason.

“Sam, where’s Y/N? I can’t find her anywhere.”

Sam’s expression fell and his hopeful eyes fell on Charlie who shook her head. He swallowed hard, his heart sinking deep into his chest and gestured for Dean to follow him outside. Dean frowned at Sam but followed him anyways.

“Well?” he demanded once they were outside.

“Dean..” he began.

“Sam, where is she?!” he growled at his brother.

Sam ran his fingers through his hair, guilt taking over his features.

“She’s in Colorado, we--”

“Colorado?! What the hell is she doing there?!”

“If you would be quiet and listen, I could tell you,” Sam snapped him.

Dean raised his eyebrows in disbelief, but he shut up.

“Rowena needed the spell translated, Charlie wanted to, but Y/N wouldn’t let her. She said she owed it to you, Charlie said she would try to hold off the Demons as best as she--”

“Demons?” Dean fumed, “you let her go off by herself and you knew there were demons after her, what the hell is wrong with you Sam?”

Anger overtook Dean as he dropped the bag of food on the ground.

“If any of you try to follow me, I swear, I’ll kill you,” he hissed, taking off as fast as he could to Baby.

He fumbled with his keys, desperately trying to grab the one to his car while he ran and all he could think about was how much of this was his fault.

Dean remembered every moment of the day he saved you. He even remembered what he had for breakfast that morning. He remembered taking just a little bit too long securing a proper weapon to kill the bastard. He remembered breaking the door down just before your mother screamed one last time. He had no idea how many times she’d screamed, but he winced just thinking about it. He remembered dashing down the hallway, past the living room and catching a glimpse of your horrified face.

His heart broke and he could barely even look at you after they’d finished killing the clown. He knew if he’d just been a little bit faster getting the weapon or showed up in town a day earlier, then your parents would still be alive and you wouldn’t be risking your life for him. You probably would’ve gone to college, and gotten married, and had kids. Instead, you were twenty-two years old and on the verge of being murdered, just so he could get a stupid mark off his arm.

It wasn’t worth losing your life. He had to get to you before it was too late.

Just under six and a half hours of failed attempts at convincing himself that you were okay while his tires raced raw to get to you, Dean frantically pulled into the parking lot belonging to the motel he tracked you to. He jumped out, sprinting up to the door, still muttering to himself that you were fine, that you’d be here and you’d be okay.

He knocked on the door, his breath catching in his throat while he said one last silent prayer.

Dean couldn’t wait too long before he just kicked the door in. He quickly took in the state of the motel room. His eyes were met by a broken chair, a smashed lamp, and the telephone ripped from the wall first. With each step further into the room, he felt his stomach constrict tighter and tighter. Panic turned into fear when his eyes caught the red streaks on the edge of the door frame across the room that leads to the bathroom. Dean walked further, his eyes finally finding the dark red stain that lay just on the other side of the white divider.

He swallowed hard before turning to follow the trail of red spots that lead from the stain on the floor to the narrow bathroom door frame. His heart sunk faster than his brain could register, he was no longer consciously willing his legs to move, they just did.

For the first few years, you had some trouble, but they worked as hard as they could to help you feel like you had a family. It took you a while, but you found enough strength let them in and accept them as best as you knew how. You grew especially close to Dean, he became your safe spot.

Dean remembered all the phases you went through. He thought about your very first phase he’d ever experienced, your princess phase. It startled him at first, he and Sam had no clue what to do. So, they gave in and had tea parties with you every now and then when they would visit Bobby’s house. He remembered sitting in Bobby’s kitchen and laughing mockingly at Sam who had decided to let you attempt to braid his hair.

He reminisced about all the times they’d go back to Bobby’s house to see you while you were growing up before they trusted you enough to let you hunt with them. When the boys returned from hunts you’d run up to Dean and hug his hips, squealing his name and then do the same to Sam.

Dean would read you bedtime stories with commentary about how stupid the characters were whenever he was there. Then, after he was done reading (and spouting sarcastic criticisms like no one’s business) he would kiss you goodnight and tell you he loved you, as would Sam. As you grew up, you insisted that they read lore books instead, which Dean did not agree with at all, but he complied anyway.

Often times they would come to stay at Bobby’s for a few days at a time and take a small break from hunting to be with you. Even when they were out on hunts, they would always make sure to calculate what time they’d have to call Bobby’s depending on their time-zone to make sure to tell you they loved you before you fell asleep. Sometimes Dean would even stick around longer to hear about your day at school or tell you about something funny that happened to him.

God, he loved you.

In a matter of seconds, he was standing in the door frame of the bathroom holding his breath. The curtain was pulled closed, but a bloody hand stuck out and draped limply over the edge of the tub.

And Dean knew.

He knew who the hand belonged to. He knew it was your lifeless, twenty-two-year-old hand hanging off the edge of that tub. The hand that balled up his t-shirts until your knuckles turned white when you’d had nightmares those first few months after coming back from Hell. The hand that stitched him and his brother up with the utmost care when they’d been injured. The hand he’d held in his own when you fell asleep curled up in his lap during a movie. He knew it, deep down he knew, but the rest of him refused to believe that he would go home and you wouldn’t be there to greet him. He refused to believe this was anything other than a bad dream. He wouldn’t believe it, not until he saw your face. Not until he made absolutely sure. Then again, he found he couldn’t force himself to pull back the curtain either. He couldn’t move, he stood in the door frame, paralyzed.

The taller man held you tightly in his arms in the back seat of that black car, squeezing your small, trembling hand while repeatedly telling you that you were safe. The other one drove as fast as he could in the opposite direction of the town that used to be yours. You couldn’t hold back your silent tears, but you knew you felt safer in that car than you did anywhere else. Images of your parents lying lifeless on the floor of your house haunting you now and for years to come.

And just like theirs to you, it would be yours to Dean, from now until the day he could no longer find the strength to breathe.

He was yanked back to reality when his phone rang in his pocket. He drew the phone numbly, glancing down at the lit up screen. It was Sam.

“Sam,” his angry voice broke when he answered.

“Dean, it’s Charlie,” Sam mumbled.

Dean closed his eyes, sighing sharply as he struggled to react. The line was silent for a few long moments before he drew in a sharp breath and spun around, flinging the phone as hard as he could across the room. It hit the wall and shattered, pieces of plastic flying back across the room.

Then, Dean fell to his knees, praying it was only a nightmare.

Forever Tags: @assbutt-still-in-hell, @shotgunintheimpala, @wishedworld, @aquabrie, @pie-not-cake-you-assbutt, @cas-loves-dean-and-i-love-him, @imaginesforthose-wholovefandoms, @weasleywinchester

#ANGST #so much angst #I'm sorry #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #spn fic #sam winchester #dean winchester #charlie bradbury #castiel #reader insert #dean fic #sam fic #cas fic #charlie fic #crowley #rowena

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