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#she keeps trying to fix things but she was raised in such a messed up way that
calware · 8 months
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i'm thinking about vriska
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falling-endlessly · 3 months
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Boomerang (part 2)
Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader
Summary: After being faced with a dilemma, Vox tries a new approach to get you back. All hell breaks loose.
<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>
"You're shitting me right now," Velvette's eye twitched as she stared at the snoring TV demon sprawled across your bed. "For fuck's sake, what am I? A babysitter?"
"At least he's knocked out," you crossed your arms, raising a brow. "You won't have to listen him try and tell you that he lost his hat, only to realize it was on his head the whole time, and then start crying because he forgot he owned such a cool hat."
Velvette smacked her forehead audibly, dragging the hand down her face. "Jesus Christ," she hissed under her breath, before glaring at you in irritation. "You know, none of this would have happened if you hadn't left, right?"
"Vel," you said tiredly, rubbing your temples.
"Do you know how fucking annoying it is to hear him bitch all goddamn day about you?" She growled, waving her hands around aggressively. "I'm this close," she held her fingers a millimeter apart. "To pouring water all over his monitors. This. Close."
"Vel—"
"And then there's Valentino, who's also in a fucking mood. You know what? Forget about the water. I'm going to shoot both of them in the—"
"Velvette!" You raised your voice, making her grit her teeth. "I'm not coming back. He made his choice," you glanced at the demon in question, currently drooling all over your pillow. "It's not my problem anymore."
"Is that what you think?" She snapped, crossing her arms. "That you can just, what, leave your shit in a mess and walk out? Sorry to burst your bubble bitch, but you aren't fucking Cinderella. Things aren't just going to magically work out if you hide from them."
"I'm not hiding—"
"Bullshit!" She growled.
Your jaw set tightly as you both stood in a tense silence, glaring at each other.
After a few seconds, you sighed, shaking your head. "He already knows what he has to do if he wants to fix this," you said firmly. "I'm not going to change my mind."
Velvette pressed her lips together, before letting out an irritated breath. "Always fucking cleaning up everyone else's messes," she muttered angrily under her breath as she roughly hoisted Vox's limp body over her shoulder. "I'm going to kill him. Pathetic piece of shit—keep up a good image my ass."
She was almost out of the window when you called out, "Vel."
Velvette turned to give you an annoyed what now look over her shoulder, scowling impatiently.
"Thanks," you said sincerely.
She didn't answer you, instead turning and vaulting herself out of the window, disappearing from sight.
****
Vox woke up feeling like his screen was being forcibly bent in half. "What the ungodly fuck?" he whimpered, grabbing fistfuls of his sweaty bed sheets as he tried to control his breathing.
His stomach roiled ominously, making him gag. "Nope, nope. Not here," he stumbled out of bed, staggering to his attached bathroom like a desperate zombie and nearly running face first into the wall.
Vox dropped to his knees, flipping open the toilet lid and shooting out an unholy amount of chunks.
"What the—ugh, holy shit!" Velvette coughed from the doorway, shielding her face. "God, that smells worse than that skit when Angel got shat on."
Fuck you, he wanted to say. What the fuck are you doing in my bathroom?
But instead what came out was: "FUghhhuckk!"
Velvette watched him, unimpressed and disgusted. "You're an idiot."
"Not. Helping." Vox growled miserably, screen flickering as he gripped the edges of the toilet bowl.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Velvette jeered unsympathetically. "Who dragged your pathetic drunk ass back here last night? Oh, that's right!" She snapped her fingers in a mock eureka! moment. "I did. How about a little gratitude?"
Vox lifted a weak, trembling hand and flipped her off.
Velvette rolled her eyes. "Ungrateful bitch," she muttered under her breath.
Vox heaved loudly into the toilet, making her cringe. Gross. She grabbed the hand towel off of the rack, before throwing it at his head. It landed on the top of his monitor, hanging off the corner, before he grabbed it and sluggishly wiped his mouth. "I th-think I'm sh-short circuiting," he groaned, gripping his head in pain.
"You'll be fine," Velvette closed her eyes in frustration, but internally her thoughts took a different turn. She hadn't seen Vox this fucked up in ages. Val maybe. But not Vox. He cared way too much about his public image. This erratic behavior was very, very unlike him, and it was starting to become...concerning.
"What happened?" Vox coughed, leaning his monitor weakly against his forearms. The last thing he remembered was the fight with Val, and then—a garden...? The hell?
"Well, apparently, your dumbass thought it was a good idea to pay Y/n a visit—" Vox froze at the sound of your name "—to personally deliver her flowers at three in the morning. Then you cried about your stupid hat, passed out in her room, and she called me to pick you up like an incompetent child. The end."
By the end of her rant, Vox's expression looked even more pained, if that was even possible. "Shitttt," he moaned, curling in on himself. "Fuck. Shit. Fuck."
He looked so pathetic and distraught that Velvette almost felt bad for him. Almost.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were Vox's labored breaths and Velvette's judgmental stare. The silence was starting to border on stifling when Vox finally broke it.
"Did she like it?" He asked quietly.
"What?" Velvette scowled, crossing her arms.
"The roses," he continued, making her raise a brow. So he did remember buying the flowers then, she never told him what kind they were. "Did she like them?"
She was about to dismiss it when a sudden memory struck her, making her pause. "She kept them. In a vase on her night stand."
Vox slowly lifted his head, a warmth (not bile this time) blooming in his chest. You kept them. Even though he'd made a fool out of himself and probably ruined your night. And you didn't kick him out, either.
You still care, he realized, with a fragile, growing hope.
And that meant—he had a chance. Not baseless hope this time, an actual, legitimate chance to win you back. A slow, goofy grin started to climb his face.
"What—what the fuck? What's with the idiotic look on your face?" Velvette cringed away, disturbed. Then realization hit her as her eyes rolled skyward. "You're going to do something incredibly stupid, aren't you?"
"Maybe," he grinned, before another bout of nausea hit him, making him retch violently into the bowl.
"Idiot," Velvette reiterated.
****
"Oh, hell no," you heard Vaggie say, making you glance up. The moth demon looked incredibly hostile, spear pointed at whoever was at the door.
Concerned, you lifted from the lounge chair you were seated in, taking a few steps towards them, only for a firm hand to land on your shoulder.
"Toots," Angel Dust laughed nervously, moving to block the scene with his body. "Maybe you should let the others sort this one out, yeah?"
"Angel, I know I don't look like much, but I'm an overlord," you raised a brow, peeling his hand off of your shoulder with ease. "I can probably help."
"Shit! Wait, you're not going to like this," Angel groaned under his breath, but it was too late. You'd already seen him.
Vox caught your eye, a charming smile quirking his mouth. "Hey, doll."
Your fists curled by your sides, eyes flashing dangerously as you started to dematerialize, glowing green code dancing along your skin. You glitched out, growing substantially in stature as your mouth distended horrifically.
"Ohhh shit," Angel cursed, taking cover behind the bar counter.
"What's wrong?" Charlie's confused voice came from the stairwell, only to gasp at your demonic form, glitching horribly as your voice raged like gravelly static. It almost sounded like there was another, deeper voice speaking in tandem with yours.
"Woah!" She bolted to the scene, catching sight of a pale Vox, shocked Vaggie, and gaping Niffty. Husk, Pentious and Angel had done the smart thing and taken cover behind the bar.
"Y/n," she smiled placatingly, raising her hands in a show of non-aggression. "What's going on?"
"Gonna kill him," you spat, making everyone wince. "Can't have one goddamn moment to myself without this fucker appearing like a fucking genital wart—"
 "Hey," Vox laughed nervously. "I'm not here for any of that, I promise. Just—sweetheart—could you maybe not hover over me like that—"
"O-kay Y/n," Charlie stepped between the two of you. "Maybe just calm down, take a few deep breaths, and let's hear him out."
"Charlie, he blew up the hotel two days ago," Vaggie hissed through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, well, so did Pentious," Charlie raised a brow, wincing at said demon's faint protest.
"Pentious blew a hole in the wall," Vaggie argued. "This guy blew up half of the building!"
"Charlie!" Angel yelled, voice strained. "Do something before we all die!"
"Alastor's going to kill him," Niffty said cheerfully.
"I'll kill him first."
"Guys—" Charlie pleaded.
"I'm here for redemption!" Vox's voice cut through the air, making everyone freeze. It even shocked you out of your demonic form, the glowing code disappearing as you shrunk to normal proportions.
"You what?" you snapped.
"I want to...make things right," he glanced at you, making you grit your teeth and turn away. "I'm not here to cause trouble I swear—"
The door slammed in his face, cutting him off.
"Charlie," Alastor grinned, finally pulled from wherever the hell he'd fucked off to in his free time. "Tell me you're not thinking of letting this mongrel stay, are you?"
"What is this?" Vaggie hissed, dropping her head in her hands. "Overlord central?"
Charlie looked down, pursing her lips. "Well, it would be wrong of us to refuse anyone. It is open to everyone, after all."
"Think of Y/n!" Alastor said desperately, smile twitching as he clasped his hands on your shoulders, holding you out like some sort of charity case. You gave him an unimpressed look. "It's obvious he's only here to harass her!"
"And what were you here for again?" Charlie raised a brow. "To see demons trip and tumble down into the fiery pit of failure," she deepened her voice to imitate his, making him let out a screech of radio feedback.
"Look, I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself," you said, disgruntled as you shrugged off Alastor's uncomfortably tightening grip. "Charlie, do what you want. But I can't promise I won't kill him."
You were starting to accept the fact that there was nowhere in hell you could possibly go to escape your ex if he didn't wish it. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t put up a fight, though.
"Oh fuck," Angel dragged a hand down in face. He already knew what Charlie was going to decide. "Shoulda fuckin' stayed over with Cherri."
Charlie took a deep breath, and despite everyone's silent pleas, reached for the door handle and twisted it open. Vox perked up, turning towards her attentively.
"Welcome to Hazbin Hotel!" She attempted an awkward, welcoming smile.
****
<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>
Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah
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complete-clownery · 4 months
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Hahaha okay rant about this amazing fanfic (you probably heard of this one already but still)
So whenever it comes to explaining and writing under my posts I just get lazy but I need to push through this cuz I need to talk
So the fanarts were made for the lmk fanfiction sunbreak, that a lot of you (probably mostly shadowpeach shippers) had read, and it is amazing, I read trough it as fast as my brain let me and as you can see it has pleasantly scratched my brain so much so that I even (attempted) to make fanart for it
Ngl if I wasn't a major pussy I would try to illustrate the whole thing or make covers for each chapter but Im unable to work on something more than 2 hours and I would want those to look good, but good looking art (if I don't mess up) takes 6 hours ughh--- annoying much---
Anyways I'm not good with literature but man is this fix a masterpiece *chefs kiss* its everything its amazing, I was unable to put it down once I started it
Okay i dont think I have the brain capacity to explain how much I worship the writer of this masterpiece @ladygreenfrisbee , so i'm just going to talk about the drawings a tad
So first picture with Red Son and MK its sort of like an au in the fic where the whole lbd plot is somehow nonexistent and after Macaque gets to his sisters domain they settle down and raise the kids together without much of an issue aside from assassinations keep happening and trying not to get in trouble with the heavens
Id like to think that Gongzhu still wouldn't let the court tailors to put any form of red or gold on MKs outfits and only allowed the yellow after when MK was old enough to declare that yellow was his favorite color, but even now she would insist on some form of purple and shadow motives to let others know who the mother is
We also got baby MK and toddler Red Son and sassy LIF and Mac
Third pic with the lion: I don't know what it was or why but I just love general Song so much--- he's a major dickhead but sgvshshsevkdididhr (actually I kinda love all the original characters in this one, from the generals to the old lady in the beginning of the book, (gosh I also wanna draw some scenes from those chapters I loved how Mac and she interacted hshsjsj))
so chapter 34 was probably my favorite so far I re read it about two more times cuz it was amazing to see Macaque being the schemer he is and try to piss of Song lol
Last picture: its a sketch/a wip or whatever (probably not going to finish it but im still putting it there cuz its somewhat decent looking)
Its the part where Wukong remembered of Macaque finally finding him and asking for him to come back to flower fruit mountain.
I tried to make Macaque look more unhinged on this one but since I didn't finish it I dont think its that noticable so fuck that but I also gave him a halo like the saints to symbolise his suffering and what not (thought it looked cool and fitting think whatever you want about it lol)
And that all ((((hollly mother))))
If you read this trough, thank you and congrats👏👏
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Cover Up
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1k
Warnings: implied smut
Summary: You hooked up with someone expecting to keep him as a one-and-done. You didn't expect him to show up at your college.
Square Filled: "You are one fine specimen, and I'm not saying that because I'm drunk.” for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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Shit. Shit. Shit. You’re so late. You can’t be late for your first day of college. You had a bit too much to drink last night which caused you to sleep in longer than you wanted to. You’re so late that you didn’t have time to do your makeup. Eh, you can do it when you get to school. The drive is only thirty minutes but with morning traffic, it takes forty-five.
Meet me in the bathroom by the cafeteria! Emergency! You send to your best friend.
You rush from your car all the way to the bathroom before anyone else has a chance to see how messed up you look. You have everything you need in your backpack to fix your look, and you almost cringe at yourself when you look in the mirror.
“Man, I need to stop drinking,” you shake your head.
You take out your brush and comb your hair when Madison walks in.
“Y/N?”
“Over here.”
“Are you okay? What happened?”
“I woke up late. I didn’t have time to do my makeup. I need to use yours.”
“You texted me this is an emergency. I blew off Jason just to come here.”
“Mads, this is an emergency. Look at me. I can’t go to class looking like this. I still have pimples on my face. Can I use your makeup or not?”
“Of course.” She sets her backpack on the counter and takes out the massive bag containing everything she needs for a full face of makeup. It’s a damn good thing you’re the exact shade as her. “Why’d you wake up late?”
“I was out late last night.”
“And?”
“Why does there have to be an and?”
“Bitch, I know you.”
“I had too much to drink,” you sigh.
“There it is,” she laughs. “Who’d you do?”
“Why does there have to be a guy?” you chuckle and look at her. She raises an eyebrow as if you could actually fool her. “Okay, I don’t know his name. I was too busy making out with him to ask.”
“Do tell,” she smirks. You grab an elastic and put your hair up to have it out of the way while you do your makeup. She gasps when she sees the dark purple marks on your neck. “What the fuck are those?”
“So, they’re noticeable?”
“Noticeable? It looks like he was trying to suck your blood. God damn.”
“Mads, when I tell you this man was so fine, I mean it. I thought he was shy and awkward because he had that look about him, but he was the complete opposite. He took me to the back where the bathrooms were and had his way with me. God, he was so big,” you gasp.
“Tell me you got his number.”
“His friends came and got him before we could say anything. I don’t even know his name. I had to go home and put my vibrator to good use even after the orgasms he gave me.”
“Okay, new mission in life, find that man. It’s been a while since you let someone ruffle your feathers.”
“Yeah,” you chuckle.
You grab what you need and cover your marks as much as you can. They’re so dark that the foundation can’t cover it completely, but with your hair down, it’s manageable. Once you feel like you can walk out in public, you hand everything back to her.
“Okay, we’re good to go. Thank you.”
“Anytime,” she winks.
You take one look at yourself and remember what it was like to have his hands on your body.
You’ve never done this with a stranger before. Sure, you’ve had public sex before but nothing like this. None of your flings had this much passion. You’ve only met this man not even an hour ago and his tongue is down your throat.
There is a family bathroom next to the men’s and women’s restrooms, so he shoves you into that one and locks the door behind him. He grabs your hips and lifts you so that you can wrap your legs around his slender waist. He shoves his hand between your legs as his lips trail down your neck.
“You are one fine specimen, and I'm not saying that because I'm drunk,” you moan.
All you can focus on is the way his fingers are rubbing on your clothed clit and how his lips are sucking on your neck.
“Y/N!” You snap out of your trance and look at her. “We’re going to be late. Come on.”
“Right.”
You two leave the bathroom and head in the direction of your first class, Criminal Justice 101.
“Tell me what he looks like. It’ll help me try to find him.”
“Curly brown hair, brown eyes, very tall, slim build, and he was wearing a sweater vest. Not what you’d think he’d be like. He knew what he was doing, that’s for sure,” you chuckle. “I don’t know anything about him.”
“You just know what his tongue and cock feels like.”
“Madison!” You look away once and run into someone who is reading a book. “Watch where you’re going.”
“That is no way to speak to a professor, young lady.”
You look back and see the Dean of the school escorting one of the new professors. You lock eyes with the new professor with wide eyes. He’s the man you fucked last night. He recognizes you but doesn’t say anything about it. Madison can guess what happened based on how you’re looking at him.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“No, it was my fault,” he chuckles.
“Come, Dr. Reid. I’ll show you to Criminal Justice 101.”
“Wait, you’re teaching that class?” you ask, stopping the two men from leaving.
“Yeah.”
Madison grabs your shoulders and grins at Dr. Reid.
“Lucky for us, we’re your students.”
“Can’t wait,” he chuckles.
The Dean leaves expecting Dr. Reid to follow but the young doctor leans closer to you so you’re the only one who hears him.
“It’s a shame you covered them up. I’ll just have to make more.”
Your mouth drops open as he jogs to catch up with the Dean. You’re totally fucked. It’ll make class more interesting though.
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catpriciousmarjara · 6 months
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Okay so there's this dp x dc tumblr post about the JL finding the Ghost King's family tree or something and lots of misunderstandings happening but I can't find it anymore and would be grateful if someone would send it to me... Anyhow I was inspired by it and this is the result!
Also on ao3 if you wanna check it out there!
The Family Tree
"So you're telling me this is just a family tree?", Green Lantern asked with a frown on his face.
Bruce could see Constantine's eyes twitching at that question. As always, leave it to Hal Jordan to annoy people.
"This isn't just anything", the sorcerer said with narrowed eyes. "It's a Class-X magical artifact. If this thing is used as a focus for a ritual, the magnitude of magical energy would rise by at least 80 factors. For those of you non-magical or unfamiliar with magic, that's fucking huge."
Beside him Zatanna nodded, her gaze still fixed on the ancient manuscript. She hadn't taken her eyes off the scroll for more than a minute since she got to the Watch Tower and first saw it spread out on the containment room table. Constantine was the same. Captain Marvel was not present, working along with Superman, Hawkgirl, and Aquaman on a case, but his reactions have always been dissimilar from his magical colleagues, so his case might be anywhere between staying the hell away from it to trying to inhale it.
It was clear to Bruce that Zatanna coveted it, but was sensible and cautious enough to stay away from it. Constantine had no sense so he was a tossup. From where he was standing between Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter, the Gotham vigilante resolved to keep an eye on the two magicians. They most likely won't try to steal the artifact, considering the heavy dose of 'not messing with that thing' overshadowing the desire to possess it, but the scroll itself might be enchanted to encourage covetous feelings on those nearby. It wouldn't be the first time. Better safe than sorry.
It was Diana that stepped up towards the two JL Dark members to seek more clarification. As both a Demigod and as someone familiar with magic, she was usually the one taking point on such issues.
She gestured to the scroll innocently sitting inside the runic circle the two mages had constructed around it. "You have told us that the artifact is not destructive, that it is merely a record, and that the information it contains is not a spell, or a runic arrangement, or a magic circle. You have also told us that the strange energy readings coming from it are mostly due to the material it's made out of than any catastrophic sorcery enchanted into it. You have at last decoded it as a record of a family tree. Yet it is dangerous, a Class-X relic as you've said. Given all this information, I suppose the correct question to ask here is this: why is a family tree capable of raising magical energy output by 80 factors?"
The two magicians looked at each other. Zatanna finally pried her eyes away from the scroll and faced the room.
"Magic is a force that simultaneously has laws but at the same time adheres to none. It's confusing to explain but for the time being just keep that in mind."
She walked to the center of the room, followed by Constantine, visibly trying to collect her words. Bruce prepared himself for a complicated explanation and activated another one of the batsuit's recorders. He felt the urge to sigh, for a supposed unchained force, Magic was needlessly complex at times, and practically incomprehensible to non-magicals.
At the front, Zatanna took a deep breath and began.
"As you know there are multiple dimensions. But magical dimensions come under a different category. Depending on the overall magical potential of a particular magical dimension, we call it the World State Stable Thaumaturgical Output Capacity, we can classify these dimensions in grades and levels, as either higher or lower, with relation to each other. These levels are dependent on a multitude of variables like space, time, gravity, Events, Proximity, etc and as such are non-linear, and unfixed. That's the first thing."
Bruce could practically see the capitals on the last two. Looks like they would need to hold another meeting to clarify a lot of these concepts. Seeing the dawning of lost expressions on some of the members however, Bruce mentally amended that to many future meetings.
Zatanna continued. "Magical objects from higher dimensions become stronger in lower ones. The inverse is also true. This is all in relation to the Overture and the same polarity orientation of course but we don't need to get into that now-"
On the contrary Bruce thought they really needed more explanation on all of that.
"-In simple terms, a child's toy from a higher dimension could become the focus for an apocalyptic ritual in a much lower dimension, while an apocalyptic artifact from a lower dimension might as well be paperweight in a sufficiently higher one. There are ways around it, but if those methods are not implemented, then this is how it generally goes. The larger the level difference, the higher the power."
Now that wasn't concerning at all. Bruce really needed to update his contingency plans regarding magic.
Constantine continued from where Zatanna left off, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but here.
"The second thing is that when it comes to magic, things that are indefinable or unquantifiable become definable and quantifiable. Stuff like love, hate, happiness, despair, fate, necessity, authority? All measurable. Not always needed of course, But definitely possible and frequently used in a variety of magical fields."
The sorcerer leaned against a nearby chair. "One such thing is Significance. The magic contained in true names for instance is mostly based on significance. A true name is significant to you, its a doorway to your soul, and therefore it holds power. Significance is also what we call a positive, additive factor in magic. In the absence of interfering variables, significance as a quantity is directly proportional to magical output. In other words-"
"-the more significant an object or an event, the higher the magical energy output, and consequently higher the magical power", J'onn finished. He looked towards the scroll. "The information recorded on it, the family tree as you've said, valuable in significance, most likely in terms of whose family it's a record of. In addition, the artifact is from a higher dimension with relation to ours, and that has a cumulative effect."
"Yeah exactly", said Constantine with a raised eyebrow. "Which means that if that hypothetical toy Zatanna mentioned? If that happened to be important enough, like a first toy, or a cherished gift or something like that, its significance increases, its potential increases, and in the right hands, or in the wrong hands really, that potential could be harnessed at a lower level."
There was a bout of thoughtful silence as they absorbed all of the information.
But Bruce felt as if he had been quiet enough and took the chance to ask a question of his own. "You mentioned something called the Overture, and polarity orientation. What do they mean?"
Constantine just sighed. "For fuck's sake Batsy those things aren't really important to the discussion..."
Bruce just stared.
..."Fine", the mage said in defeat. "There are many names for it, the Overture, Exordium, Legerdomain, Nascence...but the most accepted two are the Beforebirth, and the Womb. It's not a something as much as it's a someplace, but then again it's not really a place either. Simply put it's the birthplace of Magic, where it all began and all that. It can't be accessed without the Key and that's been lost for a long time. It's actually a mission for many magicals to find it you know? A holy quest for a lot of them. Some of them are straight up crazy though."
Bruce field that information safely away. Figure out a plan to combat fanatic magicians trying to find the birthplace of magic for sinister reasons. "And polarity?"
"Well", Zatanna began, "its how magic is classified according to the nature of...magic? Or rather the essence? It's hard to put in mundane terms...Anyhow broadly speaking there are two main polarities, the Obverse, and the Reverse."
For a moment, she struggled with the explanation before brightening, seemingly having found an idea.
"Picture a number line, but like on the y-axis! Zero is the Overture, Obverse dimensions are the positive number side, and Reverse dimensions are the negative numbers! The higher up the obverse dimension, the larger its magical output! Similarly, the lower down the reverse dimension, the higher its magical output."
Bruce had hardly parsed through that when their resident speedster spoke up.
"Guys", the red clad hero said, "I feel like we missed the obvious follow up question after Ollie over here...like I feel like this is important, but where exactly is the scroll from?"
As one everyone turned towards the artifact.
Constantine grimaced and Zatanna winced. They looked at each other as if asking who wanted to bite the bullet. Finally it looked as if Constantine lost. The sorcerer cursed under his breath.
"Well which dimension is the scroll from?", asked Wonder Woman.
Constantine took what looked like a fortifying breath.
"It's from the Infinite Realms."
Silence.
"What?", the Green Lantern asked intelligently.
"It's from the Infinite Realms. As in Infinite. As in end of the figurative fucking line, number line whatever!"
Everyone stared at the magicians as understanding slowly dawned.
There was what was essentially a magical nuke in the Watch Tower.
"Now", began Martian Manhunter, "this is unfortunate".
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lucyandalexiafan · 4 months
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Car ride home | Alexia Putellas x reader
Summary: you have a big crush on Alexia, everyone makes jokes about this but Ale doesn't seem to understand, and you have to come back (to your) home with her after a three-day camp. What could possibly happen? Warnings: little "sexual" contact (hand on inner things), allusion to sex, little age gap not defined (something like five or six years).
Words: 2018.
Do not copy, translate or claim my works and fics as your own; if I find out I will report them and block you. Instead, write to me, my directs are always open, and ask me if you can publish your work/fic inspired by one of mine. However, you can reblog them!
“Are you coming home with me, little one?”
 I blush and try to protest.
 “Don't try, you won't take two trains to come back to Barcelona after a three-day camp”
The authoritative tone, an eyebrow raised as if she is daring me to protest.
I nod looking at her.
The others giggle.
Mapi messes up my hair.
She smiles mischievously.
She hugs me.
"See you Monday"
Behind her Ingrid waves her hand to greet me, a sweet smile on her face.
Ale snorts and there is more laughter, I look at the ground embarrassed.
“None of them will ever do something anyway” Marta adds.
I look at her, eyes slightly wider open.
Why do they keep insisting on joking about this?
Ona grabs my shoulder, laughing under her breath.
“Won’t you?”
“And that's it - Ale replies irritated – Bebita, do you have everything?”
I nod, slightly intimidated by the tone.
Is she mad at me?
I grab my bag and wave to the others, then follow her towards her SUV.
The trunk is already open.
She put her suitcase on the right, I put mine on the left and, on top of it, my backpack; I just take from it my phone before sitting next to her.
“I'm not mad at you, little one”
I blush at the nickname, looking at my hands.
“I'm sorry they always make jokes” I whisper guiltily, as if it were my fault.
It was so complicate bonding with her. She was the most reluctant to talk to me or communicate with me, the one that was cold from the beginning and very strict on the field; but she was like that only with me.
I had a crush on her even before we played together, but I never said it to her.
The fear of making mistakes is a constant in my friendship with her.
The fear of saying one word too much, making a rude joke or being intrusive.
The fear of ruining the friendship.
“Don't worry - she turns on the car - Put on some music, would you?”  She asks, handing me her cell phone.
I grab it, thinking about how the others had reacted when they saw me unlock it to change the song in the locker room when she asked me to.
How much they gossiped because no one knew her phone password. Not even Mapi knew it.
I put on a quiet 80s song that I know she likes.
Her free hand, due to the automatic control machine, is on her thigh.
After a while she points me to a town that can be seen from the road, she tells me that she had played one of her first women's soccer matches there.
Then, casually, she places her hand on my knee.
I hold my breath trying to act normal even though my heart is racing.
The thumb caresses my skin left bare by the short shorts.
“Did you enjoy the camp?”
“Mh?”  I ask, her eyes focused on his hand.
“If it bothers you, I'll take it off,” she whispers, giggling, her gaze fixed on the road.
“I… no, it doesn't bother me - the face getting hot - sorry”.
She chuckles turning left.
The hand goes up a little.
I move my leg towards her seat, spreading them apart.
She smiles slyly.
If possible, I am even more embarrassed by the gesture.
But I've been dreaming about this contact for months. A less innocent, less friendly, physical contact, something more than a hug.
I'm doing it wrong?
The next song starts and is her favorite.
“This is beautiful, I love it”
I smile nodding.
Her thumb pet my skin just under my shorts.
This is the first time we have had this contact.
What does it mean?
“So the camp?
Did you like it?"
I nod vigorously.
I turn towards her with my torso and her hand goes higher, about halfway up my thigh, under my shorts.
Fingers touching the inside of the thigh.
I gasp in surprise.
I try to recover quickly. “The… yes, it was n-nice” I reply, swallowing my saliva.
A nail scrapes across my skin and I feel a knot in my belly.
I gasp.
She starts talking about camp.
Of what I liked.
Of what could have been done better.
Of the coach.
I am too focused on her hand, on the humidity between my legs and concentrating on breathing to listen to her.
How long have you wanted this contact?
It means something doesn't it?
I mean, why else would it mean touching my inner thigh?
We had gotten closer in the last two months, it's true. We live six hundred meters from each other and, since I don't have a car, she accompanied me to the training and home quite every day.
But I didn't think she could look at me like that. She never showed any signs of it and she always said that I was too young, even though in the team there were relationships with multiple years of age difference. The others laughed about it and kept making more or less veiled jokes about the fact that we spent so much time together.
After a while of always seeing me arriving and going home with Ale, watching the way that we interact, the girls with whom I had bonded most in the few months since the beginning of my first year at Barcelona had asked me if I liked her.
I was at Lucy and Ona's house for a movie night, but I realized it was a trap the moment I entered the apartment and saw only the two that were living there, Aitana, Caro and Marta. I mean, it was a weird combination of people for a movie night knowing that Aitana is a person who talks a lot during movies, while Marta and Caro want absolute silence, and most of the team love the movie night, so why did there were few of them during a Thursday night?
I blushed as I looked at the ground when Aitana asked it; what I was supposed to say? Lying when it was so obvious to them was not the best decision, so I didn’t say something. After a few seconds Lucy hugged me giggling and Ona, while she was cooking, told me that "obviously she's feeling the same".
“We'll be home in ten minutes” she whispers.
I nod, snapping out of my thoughts.
"What are you thinking about?"
I observe her.
She smiles looking at the road.
Why is she so beautiful?
“I… nothing important”.
“Everything you think is important, little one”
I bite my lip.
She had started calling me that after dinner at her house, one of those we shared at the end of training when we came home late and didn't feel like eating alone, when I told her that I liked it as a nickname.
She had started using it in front of everyone after a couple of weeks and it was so nice to know that she had a nickname just for me; sometimes, when Ale is using it in front of Mapi, Mapi begins calling me the same, making jokes about us.
“Maybe you think of a boy or girl?”
I raise my eyebrow and she looks at me.
“Maybe you are thinking to someone, you're young and there's nothing wrong”
“Are you thinking of anyone?” I asked quickly without answering her.
I freeze at the idea that she does it and the person is not me.
Her hand rises higher when she stops abruptly the car in front of a traffic light; her middle finger which, if it were fully extended, would touch my soaked panties.
I moan at the idea.
I close my eyes.
“Actually, there is a person”
I widen my eyes.
I watch her.
“At first I tried to pretend that I didn't like her because she's younger than me and I've never had something with younger people-“
“You talk as if you were fifty,” I reply.
“Well, I'm twenty-nine.”
“How many does he have?”
“She - she replies - She, it's a she”
I bite my lip.
Even worse.
Overtaken by a woman.
A cursed and lucky woman.
“When… when did you understand?”
I hesitate when her fingers start to move exploring my inner thigh, my groin.
Why is she doing this to me if she has someone else on her mind?
“You know, for a series of reasons we found ourselves very close for a couple of days and at the end I had to accept that I like her - she smiles - And from there I look for every opportunity to talk to her or be together”
“She is a lucky girl,” I whisper.
She asks me to repeat when the car stops at a red traffic light.
Is possible that all the traffic lights are red?
The universe hates me.
Her eyes in mine.
I get lost watching her.
She is so beautiful… so perfect.
Her eyes, her nose, her cheeks…
“Mh?”
I open and close my mouth a couple of times when I feel her fingers brush the elastic of my underwear.
Should I move away?
I want it so bad, but I don't want her to do something with me just because maybe she can't be with that girl.
“She's lucky, the girl – whisper – Does she know?”
She giggles.
“You know, I don't think she has any idea of ​​the effect she has on me”
I close my eyes.
“She is so innocent and she gets embarrassed so often that her cheeks are always red… they are so adorable”
The gaze returns to the road.
She turns the wheel with one hand, turning left again.
She's so hot while she's driving.
Her fingers move, touching my skin.
But…
“She's a bit shy, but with the rest of the team she's much more relaxed than with me… I think I make her a bit uncomfortable”
Team?
I turn to her, her eyes wide, when I realize she's talking about me.
Cheeks on fire.
Is this happening?
“I can smell your arousal up here little girl – she tells me, looking at me while she parks the car under her house – You are so sensitive”
I gasp for air when she runs her tongue over her lower lip
I hold my breath when the tip of her finger goes under my underwear.
“Can I kiss you little one?”
I widen my eyes at the request.
I nod quickly.
She kisses me.
It's a slow kiss at first.
The lips playing with each other, the tongues coming into contact.
Her lips are soft.
The other hand, the one that is not between my legs, caresses my cheek.
Such a sweet gesture and in contrast to what she did throughout the trip.
I gasp as she moves the hand down my neck.
She smiles on my lips.
She breaks the kiss slightly.
I look at her scared, eyes open.
What if she just wanted to kiss me?
If it's not-
“Tell me you want me to stop and I'll stop — I shake my head at her, her hand still on my neck — Or tell me you want it and we'll go to my apartment.”
I nod.
I bite my lip.
I try to kiss her, but she moves her head away, the hand on my neck squeezing lightly.
I moan.
“The words little girl”
I moan loudly.
I squeeze my thighs together, her hand closed in the grip of my thighs.
“Can we go to your apartment?  Please?"
She smiles before kissing me hard.
She turns off the car and takes the keys out of the car.
I get out of the car at the same time as her and she locks it.
I start to walk to the building but she grabs my hand.
Her lips are immediately on mine, her hand caressing my cheek.
I moan when the other grabs my hip covered only by my t-shirt.
She smiles.
“So sensitive”
I bite my lip blushing while she grins openly.
Hi! This is my first fanfic and the first time that I try to write something in English that is not for school, so please be kind ahah; if you find some mistakes or if you have some advice write to me pls:)
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luveline · 6 months
Note
idk if you would write for this I checked your guidelines and wasn’t sure but I would LOVE a pregnancy scare with Aaron (May be reader is younger than him?)! And she’s just panicked bc he’s older and already has a kid and etc and the test can be pos or neg totally up to you!
thank you for requesting! 1.3k, fem (possibly) pregnant!reader
cw reader's and hotch's attitude towards pregnancy is mostly positive
Your period is twelve days late. 
That is not a small amount of time. 
You don't notice it at first, and when you do you figure it's a few extra days without an irksome pain, a balm to soothe the ache of your absent boyfriend and a hard job, but when Aaron comes home from a case and you still haven't started your period, the panic begins to set in. 
You have a hard time keeping things from him for obvious reasons. His being a human lie detector felt fascinating when you first met, but now it's making things worse. You would've liked some time to yourself for denial, only he can always tell when something is wrong, though it's clear to you he's not sure exactly what it is. He'll realise eventually, you know. 
"Let's go to the store," he suggests, his hand flirting with the back of your neck. "You always feel better after a sweet treat." 
You've been to the store today, unbeknownst to him, for some emotional support chocolates and a small box you'd rather not think about. You'd hoped that he might get called away to give you time to open it, but without him you're not sure you have the strength. 
You hadn't expected to feel this way. You want desperately to tell him, but you're just so, so scared. 
"I don't feel like going anywhere." 
He hums as his hand moves to your shoulder, squeezing a loving path down to your hand. Jack bangs a toy down in his bedroom across the way, and the washing machine spinning from the utility closet sounds louder than it ever has before, like a rocket about to erupt. You don't know what it is that gets you, but suddenly you're overwhelmed, a confession stuck in the back of your throat as Aaron meets your panicked gaze. 
"What's wrong?" he asks. "Here, honey, sit down." 
He guides you to a kitchen chair. 
"What's wrong?" he asks again, bending at the waist. 
Your head rushes with white noise for a second. You wet your chapped lips with the tip of your tongue; you've missed your period, but it isn't that alone that scares you. Perhaps in an instance of a psychosomatic symptom, you feel weird, other. Something has changed. And you're starting to feel sick. 
"Aaron, I don't know what to do," you say. 
His eyes widen with an expression you don't often see. "Has something happened?" 
It's so, so hard to say. "I think I've messed up." 
"Not in any way I can't fix." 
"Maybe I have," you say miserably, panic hot behind your eyes. 
He shakes his head. "You haven't. I swear you haven't. Please, tell me what's wrong before I have a heart attack." 
You can't say it while he's looking at you, and when you do it's hardly audible. "I think I'm pregnant," you breathe. 
Aaron pauses. You can't even raise your head, anxiety its own heartbeat and nausea rising fast. You let out a gasp you'd held in and try to calm down, even while every little part of you worries about what he's going to say. 
You don't know if you want to be pregnant, or have a baby, but you know it would probably break your heart just a touch if Aaron didn't want to have one with you. You're not sure why. And Jack is a beautiful kid but he's growing up. Aaron isn't young. 
"How sure are you?" he asks, tone completely measured. 
"I… I feel it," you say. "I know that's stupid… 'N my period is really late, nearly two weeks now." 
"You feel it?" 
"I feel sick." Your elbows on your thighs and the backs of your hands pressed to your eyes, you curl in on yourself. "I'm so scared." 
"You're scared?" Hands on your forearms. Aaron gets down on his knees in front of your chair and rubs fondness into your skin, his voice a soothing, familiar comfort as he says, "Sweetheart, you have nothing to be scared of. Don't be scared. I'm right here." 
Tears like a shock, relief and horror mixed into one. "I'm so stupid, I haven't even taken the test yet, I don't know why I'm acting this way." 
"We all react differently to foreign situations than how we might imagine. What's important now is that you take a breath, because otherwise you'll panic." 
While you're afraid of what he's thinking, you trust him implicitly. "Okay." 
"Okay," he says, pulling your hands away from your face. "Just breathe, honey." 
He's more patient than you knew another person could be. He wipes your straggling tears with his hand without a word, his breath coming in even inhales and exhales for you to follow. The small spike of panic swiftly melds to plain old tears. You're embarrassed. You're unhappy. You and Aaron certainly weren't trying for this occasion. 
"What are you scared of?" he asks eventually. 
"Of you. Of what you're thinking, and– and what if I– I mean, what if I'm pregnant?" you ask, as though pregnant is a new word. When you said it at first, you'd meant, what if we end up having a baby together? But now you're more inclined to think about the process itself. What if you're physically pregnant? 
"Well, you have absolutely no reason to be scared of me. I love you." Aaron puts his hand just under your ear, his thumb to your cheek. "Whatever happens. Nothing else matters to me besides you." 
"Because you want a baby," you say unhappily. 
"Who says I don't?" He smiles at you softly. "I think we should've had this conversation a long time ago, but the long and short of it is that I love you. I love you and I'll do what you need me to." 
"I figured you'd be done having babies," you say, still hesitant. 
"Evidently not." He laughs, and you laugh back and he acts like you've hung the moon. "If you're scared of being pregnant, maybe you should take the test before you wind yourself up, hm?" 
"I guess I'm acting pretty silly, huh?" you ask, sniffling and wiping your eyes, the two of you caught in breathy laughter again. 
"Hormonal, maybe," he says. "Don't be scared. I don't want you to be scared." 
"What do you want?" you ask. 
"I just want you to stop crying. It's not right…" He strokes your damp cheek. "If I'm honest? If you take that test, and you aren't pregnant, or if you don't want to have a baby," —his face is calm, a small smile playing on his lips— "then I don't want you to, either." 
"But if I am?" you ask. 
"Then I will be so, so happy, because it's you." 
A missed period isn't necessarily indicative of pregnancy, and you could be freshly pregnant or four whole weeks and the test could still come out negative. Maybe your weird feeling is indigestion. Whatever happens, you really believe that the man in front of you is here for whatever answer you find. 
"I love you."
"I love you, too," he says, bone deep sincerity turned to something lighter, fondly teasing as he lifts himself up and hugs you close. "You know that." 
You let him hold you for a little while, calming down, looking at the positives and all your options. "You think Jack would be happy?" 
"He'd love a brother or sister… eventually." 
You wipe your tears and runny nose in his shirt and he does you the generosity of pretending not to notice. If you are going to have anyone's baby, you'd want it to be his. 
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nats--sw · 5 months
Text
In your head | Leah Williamson
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Leah Williamson x reader It's England's match against the Netherlands, and your girlfriend is willing to do anything to win. Warnings: I think you may find some of the comments a little suggestive. note: set in England's last game, but I changed a few things here and there
You hadn't seen Leah for days, each of you in a different country preparing for a big game as it was every time England played the Netherlands. Your team a little more comfortable than Leah's in terms of qualification, but you would be playing at Wembley in front of an abysmal crowd and as Leah used to say, "The English are never done", so at the end of the day it was a tough game.
At your feet was the chance for your girlfriend to qualify for the Olympics next year, but there was also the chance to take your team to the Olympics.
"Good morning, Miss England" Jill sat down next to you for breakfast, ruffling your hair as she passed behind you.
"Shut up" you said arranging your hair back to how it was before "Why are you only picking on me, Viv is sitting right in front of me and no one says anything to her."
Viv raised her head and smiled mischievously. "Don't drag me into your fights, kiddo."
"Well Viv's face doesn't change every time she has to play against her girlfriend" Jill said as if it was nothing "But you instead haven't smiled for days because you keep thinking about how you don't want to kick your girlfriend's ass."
"These are tough days" you muttered lowering your head "This week it's this game, but then when I go back to England it's Arsenal against Chelsea".
That was another factor, you were playing for Chelsea, having only just won a starting place this season, and winning that game would mean securing the top spot in the table, but Arsenal was desperate for those 3 points and of course Leah was too.
"You're messing with your own head," Viv commented, folding her arms on the table, "Leah knows how to separate things and you should do the same."
"Just worry about giving 100% of yourself" said Jill patting you on the back "Because I assure you Leah will."
"How was the flight?" Leah looked radiant through the screen, smiling practically from ear to ear "You look tired".
"Uh... yeah, I didn't get much sleep during the flight" you mentioned settling better in your bed "How have you been feeling these days? No complications during training?"
Leah narrowed her eyes "Are you trying to get information out of me?"
"What?! Of course not!" you quickly defended yourself "I'm concerned about the physical health of my girlfriend who is apparently going to have her first game as a starter since her injury"
"I'll pretend I believe you" Leah replied laughing "But everything's fine, according to Sarina I'm fit enough to start."
"Good news then"
"Huh, tell your face that" muttered Leah frowning "You know you don't have to go easy on me during the game, right?"
"Yeah" A lie.
"Babe, we're professionals, it's our job to do this. A lot can happen in a match, whoever wins this isn't better than the other, okay? Everything will still be fine."
"I know... it just feels weird."
Leah disappeared for a few seconds from your screen.
"Uh, the girls are calling me. I should go, but please stop thinking about us like that, okay? Go to sleep, I love you."
"Hm, I love you more. Bye."
The atmosphere in the stadium was overwhelming, the energy of the crowd could be felt from the tunnel.
"Looking good, number 25" Leah's voice sounded behind you.
"Uh, you too" you muttered without even turning to look at her, your eyes fixed on Jill's back, who was watching the situation out of the corner of her eye.
"Oh… but love, you haven't even looked at me" her tone was full of teasing. That plus the mixture of her perfume in the air was starting to get to you, "Babe?" your girlfriend's fingers took your chin and made you turn to look at her. "Hi" her smile was dazzling, she knew she was getting what she wanted "How do I look?" she asked raising her eyebrow.
You looked her up and down instinctively, did she look better than usual today? Probably. She always looked good when she wore her England kit, but today she looked amazing.
"You look... amazing" you replied almost as if Leah's gaze had you under a spell.
"What the fuck" Jill turned away, fed up with the situation, slapping Leah's arm to get her to let you go "Get out of here, Williamson."
Leah immediately raised her hands, pretending to be innocent, when she saw Daan also approaching to see what was going on.
"Good luck" she said looking at them and walked off to the start of the tunnel but not before winking at you.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" said Jill giving you a little shake.
"What?"
"Your girlfriend is getting in your head" Daan said looking sideways at Leah who was still smiling "Please YN, we all here know Leah, we knew it was going to be like this because she needs to win this game"
"I told you Leah would give her 100%, and if she's resorting to these stunts it's because she doesn't care if she has to beat you, she'll get it one way or another." said Jill "Listen to me, you will go out there, do your job, you will destroy Earps goal and only after that you will remember again that your girlfriend is the England captain, do you hear me?" this time Jill whispered in your ear as all the other girls from the England team had arrived in the tunnel.
"Okay, enough you two" you said getting a little annoyed "I'm a professional woman, I won't let my relationship affect my work and you should trust me as my teammates and friends.”
"We just want to make sure that-"
"No, I'm not a child who should be told what to do, now shut up you two" was the last thing you said to focus your eyes straight ahead, totally concentrated.
You were so focused on the game that you didn't even notice Daan and Jill high fiving behind you.
The first goal for your team came after the first 10 minutes, thanks to you and your ability to leave Lucy Bronze behind you. You also had another advantage, it wasn't the first time you had faced Earps so you knew where to shoot at the right time, so it was no surprise that your shot ended up in the back of the net.
Jill was the first to jump on you as you ran to a corner of the stadium where you could see some fans wearing the Netherlands shirt.
"That's what I was talking about!" Jill shouted in your ear as she kept hugging you.
Leah was watching out of the corner of her eye, chatting with Lucy, her jaw clenched thinking about how hard it would be to stop you.
Lucy was the one in charge of marking you, but now on every corner kick the person behind you was your girlfriend.
"Nice goal" she murmured close to your ear.
It was the first corner kick in favour of the Netherlands, so you were scared when you heard her voice, thinking that another girl would mark you.
You didn't say anything back, just pressed your elbow against her abdomen when you felt her too close.
"Too bad it was the last one." She muttered again, this time placing a hand on your waist and squeezing.
"Get the fuck off" you mumbled, starting to move from side to side to get her off.
"That's cute" was the last thing she said before the ball was kicked into the box, specifically looking for your head, but finding Leah's head first, who had no trouble clearing it out of the box.
"Shit" you muttered, glancing at Leah who was ignoring you again to focus on her team's counterattack.
"Focus on the game, YN" Vic said walking past you, giving you an encouraging pat on your back.
The first half ended with the Netherlands holding a one-goal lead. You had had a couple of chances at goal, but now in addition to having Lucy behind you, Leah was making a double effort to mark you in the same way, managing three times to get the ball away from you as cleanly as possible, as she always did.
During the half time talk no one mentioned the issue of Leah getting into your head, because from the look on your face everyone could tell that you were 100% focused on the game.
There were only 45 more minutes to go.
But to increase the lead you only needed 20.
"Hey, gorgeous" Leah's voice was in your ear again at another corner kick.
"God, shut the fuck up" you said pulling your body back, pushing her away. Leah, taking advantage of your action, raised her arms when she saw the referee signalling for you to stop the contact.
"You know what you do to me when you talk like that?" she whispered pressing her body against you once her teammates blocked the referee's view "It makes me want to make you- Hey!"
Before Leah could finish her words, your elbow had hit her abdomen hard.
"You two!" the referee came running up to where you were, giving words of warning to you and Leah.
"Come on love, let's be professional" Leah said once the referee left, her face was serious, but you knew her tone of voice showed how much she was enjoying the whole situation.
"Yeah, professionals" you muttered before you heard the referee's whistle.
The ball this time didn't go to your head, but to Daan's head instead, who's attempt unfortunately hit the crossbar, making the ball bounce back to your feet, Leah away from you because she had gone to clear Daan's first attempt.
It wasn't the best position to shoot, you didn't use your good foot either, but still the ball hit the net with the little push you gave it.
Now the Netherlands was 2 goals up on the scoreboard.
The whole team went up to you, celebrating between the rest of the English players who looked at each other blankly, including Leah, who was shaking her head with her hands resting on her waist.
It was all up to you to score a third goal, there were still 15 minutes left, not counting extra time. In a counterattack you were left with only Earps in front of you, but Lucy didn't hesitate to put her foot between your legs making you fall.
The foul had been called and Lucy had got a yellow card, because although she had made you fall it was not a red card action. But after a minute you were still on the ground.
You had fallen badly, with your wrist taking all your weight, plus apparently you had hit your head, or so said Vic who was the first to get to your side to keep you on the ground.
"The stretcher is coming" she said brushing some of the dirt and grass off your face.
"Babe? What hurts?" for the first time in the whole match you heard the tone of voice that Leah was used to using with you, a tone full of softness. One of her hands was placed on your abdomen, and she used her other hand to help Vic wipe your face.
"It's my hand," was all you said, opening your eyes to see that she was kneeling next to you. You weren't sure, but it felt like Leah let out a sigh when she heard that the problem was your hand and not your leg.
"You'll go to the bench." Leah murmured, watching one of your teammates take off her jacket to enter the field.
"Oh, you'll be happy now, Leah?" Vic teased her with a smirk.
"Shut up, Pelova" she said denying, but smiled anyway "Good, here comes the medical staff. I hope it's nothing serious" she said giving you a squeeze on the shoulder before getting up and returning to her position.
When you sat on the bench you were not unhappy with your performance, you had scored the two goals that led your team to a momentary win, but within minutes of you being substituted Leah's iconic phrase was ringing in your ears.
"The English are never done."
It only took your girlfriend and her team the remaining fifteen minutes and 3 minutes of extra time to turn the game around and take the 3 points.
"I can't believe it" was what you muttered as the final whistle blew, covering your face with your jacket, tears on the verge of flowing.
One of your teammates placed her hand on your thigh to reassure you, you didn't know who it was because you didn't remove your jacket from your face until several minutes later.
"Come on, YN" Viv grabbed your arm, forcing you to stand up.
You walked hugging her all the way to the centre of the pitch, where Beth and the other Arsenal girls were.
"Damn YN, I didn't know you had those goals in you" was the first thing Beth said, giving you a hug "You did well, don't worry" she murmured in your ear, knowing -thanks to Viv- how much you were worried about this match.
"You were a real nightmare," said Alessia, who then gestured to you to exchange shirts. "I hope I never see you doing what you did today again" she said with a laugh, referring to the next league match.
"I can't promise anything" you said shyly, still a little upset about losing. You were about to add something else, but in the distance you heard Leah's voice approaching. "Uh, I'll go inside, I think my arm still hurts, so I'll see if they can give me something for the pain."
Viv noticed the lie, but didn't say anything, just gave your healthy arm a squeeze. As soon as you started walking away from the group Leah did too, but Viv was quicker and managed to grab her arm to integrate her into the conversation and stop her from going after you.
"Great game today," Viv said, forcing her to focus on the conversation.
"Yeah, but you guys did well too. I think it was just a bit of luck that goal in extra time."
"That was a masterpiece!" Alessia defended herself, as she had been the one to convert that goal. "But of course, no goal will be that great for you unless it's from YN" she teased Leah, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
"It's the truth, what YN touches turns into a masterpiece" Leah said, puffing out her chest proudly "I love watching her play, but I'd rather do it from the stands and not a few feet behind her."
"Look at you, flattering your rival, never seen that before from you" this time it was Beth who teased her.
"Since she's been with YN she has become a softie" said Viv, pinching Leah's cheek "Oh, why that grumpy face Williamson?"
"You're all idiots" she said smacking Viv's hand "So what if I've become a softie because of YN? I don't care if you laugh at me."
"We know why you have that grumpy face, Williamson" Jill said appearing behind her, jumping almost on Leah's shoulders "It's because your plan to get into YN's head didn't work out!"
"What do you say?"
"I think you achieved quite the opposite with YN, your words instead of distracting her made her try twice as hard, so thank you for that. Shame we didn't manage to keep the lead but that's the way it goes sometimes."
"Damn" Leah folded her arms "You're saying if I hadn't picked on YN she wouldn't have scored those goals?"
"I mean, she would have anyway, but I think you gave her a little push, so thanks."
At the end of the conversation all the girls laughed at Leah, who had planned all morning to get into your head, but in the end her plan didn't work out.
No one mentioned anything else about the game, let alone Leah. And the truth is, you didn't think about her either, well, that was until after you showered at the hotel, you found a bouquet of flowers on your bed and Jill and Leah chatting on the side.
"No funny business, you hear me?" Jill said to Leah before walking out of the room and leaving you two alone.
The atmosphere was awkward, but Leah didn't care.
"Uh, I brought you flowers" she hurriedly said and took the bouquet, walking over to you and handing it to you, smiling as she saw you accept them "You were amazing today... you were a real nightmare for Lucy and me."
"Don't exaggerate, it wasn't that big of a deal" you said smiling as you saw the card with a dedication in the middle of the flowers "I was the player of the match you think?"
"Yes, I can't deny it" Leah took the flowers from your hands to put it back on the bed "I did what I did because I knew it would be physically impossible to hold you back" she said taking your face, caressing your cheek. "It was a lot easier when you were subbed off, but Lucy got a couple of words from me afterwards."
"You're an idiot for that stupidity to be whispering in my ear the whole game, how old are you? 10?" you said resting your head on her chest.
"What did you expect? You scored a brace, I had to stop you somehow." Leah defended herself.
"Whatever you say... So, we're good then?"
"Yeah, I told you. It's just a game and things happen. I thought you wouldn't want to see me for how much I pissed you off today" she said laughing taking the opportunity to caress your back. "How's your hand?"
"Fine, nothing serious but I need to rest it for a couple of days."
"Good" she said and then started walking to your bed without letting you go, sitting down and making you sit on her lap. "Now... about what I said during that corner kick before your goal..." she said putting her hands on your thighs.
"Hmm..." you settled on top of her, not taking your eyes off her lips "I think that's the first time it's ever bothered me to feel you against my back if I'm being honest."
Leah couldn't hold back her laughter, taking the moment to slip her hands under your shirt "I wanted to do this every time I was behind you" she said before she started kissing you.
You guys stayed like that for a couple of minutes, with Leah murmuring how much she loved you every time she stopped kissing you to catch her breath.
"I've been worried about this match all week" you confessed as you stopped the kissing knowing you couldn't do much more than that.
"Yeah, I know. I think I got text messages every day from your team cursing me out. But I didn't want it to be like that, I like you to give your all always, even if it means being against me."
"It was just a difficult situation, your first game as a starter, qualification, Wembley...."
"I didn't want you to worry about me" she said tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. "But I want you to know that despite the defeat, I'm proud of what you did today, and I feel like the luckiest person knowing who my girlfriend is and what she's capable of."
"You're such a sweet talker" you laughed but kissed her anyway.
"I know"
Leah patted your thigh to get you off her lap, standing up immediately after that.
"Well I gotta go, see you in a couple of days love."
"Good luck in your next match." You said giving her a last kiss on her lips.
"May the best team qualify, babe."
"Right. Go before you start your little mind games with me" you said pushing her out of the room.
"I love you!"
738 notes · View notes
1d1195 · 10 days
Text
Dolcezza Extra I
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Read Dolcezza here | ~4.7k words
From me: this is something I’ve never done before: an alternate idea to something I've already written. I will be copying and pasting parts to keep the continuity but I hope you like it. It was pretty fun. The first couple paragraphs are from the original part. I’m sure you can all follow without me telling you all this. Have fun!
Warnings: stalking, scary (?) Also, no clue what kinds of protocols are supposed to be in place for this sort of thing. I don't think it makes a lot of sense logistically or law-wise. But that's not what we're here for, right?! I wanted it to kind of go right in the middle of Part 8, like starts in the beginning-ish part of it and end essentially in the same way.
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It was one of those nights where everything was going wrong, and everything was too busy. Antonio was caring for Leo, the baby, and the missus—all sick with something Leo brought home from preschool, so Harry and Niall were left in charge. Normally, the sweet girl found her way down and situate herself at a station doing the takeout orders but given the little... spat (what else could he call it?) she seemed to be avoiding him.
His phone began vibrating in his pocket without pause for three full minutes, but he literally hadn’t a second to look at it. All he wanted was for the pretty girl to appear. He wanted to apologize profusely for overstepping. He just cared for her so much. Even if she wasn’t comfortable with how he handled things, he wanted to make it better. He cared so deeply for her it hurt to be apart from her without so much as a text message between them over the last two days. He managed to see her exit a car that wasn’t hers parked in her spot. At least her car was getting fixed. But he imagined she had another busy Friday and Saturday. He wished he could have helped more. Wished he didn’t mess up and revealed that he messed it up in a way he couldn’t fix it.
The moment the orders slowed, Harry was planning to race up her steps and beg for forgiveness.
Harry dropped a knife for the third time on the same onion he had been trying to dice for the last five minutes. He growled to himself, snagged it off the floor (nearly slicing his hand from his anger overtaking rational thought to pick it up by the handle), and all but tossed it in the sink.
“Why not just talk to her?” Niall muttered across the way.
“Shut up,” he snapped, bitterness coating his voice. Niall raised his eyebrows at him and shook his head. He turned the other way, turned his attention to the soup he was pouring into bowls. “M’going to,” he mumbled grabbing a clean knife as he started chopping again. “Sorry.”
He nodded. “It’s alright. Just thinking we could really use her help,” Niall smirked.
Harry snorted. “Y’could probably ask her,” he mumbled. “She’d come running t’help m’sure.”
“Yeah, but it defeats your whole she’s spreading herself too thin. And then I’m no different than rest, huh?”
Harry sighed, grateful for his understanding. “You’re a really good friend, Niall.”
“Don’t I know it,” he laughed. It was infectious. Hard to keep Harry in a bad mood and he prayed to God the orders slowed soon so he could run up and beg her to come help Niall and him because as much as he didn’t want to ask her for another thing, working with her on busy nights were some of his favorite moments.
Harry’s phone was still vibrating. He wondered if he set a timer for something and it was just going off continuously. “M’phone’s been ringing nonstop.”
“Mum?” Niall asked.
“No... she knows m’at work. Plus, she’d call the restaurant if it was an emergency. I gave her the number.”
“S’probably an alarm, yeah?”
“Yeah... probably.”
“Oh, she’s here,” Niall mumbled his gaze narrowing at the slip of paper in his hand. “Eggplant and two times the extra garlic bread…” Niall waved the ticket out like he always did when they realized the arrival of Harry’s Principessa.
Well, at least Harry wouldn’t have to sprint upstairs to apologize. Still, it was odd she didn’t make herself known when she got there even if they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Harry glanced toward the window for a peek to see if she was there, but he was too far away. “Niall did you see her?” He asked.
“No…” his voice was low, over the bustle of the few staff that were in the kitchen, Harry hardly heard him. Like he was piecing a puzzle together. He was studying the slip. Like it would give him the hint.
“See who?” The hostess asked. She was grabbing a take-out order off the counter that Niall had just finished packaging. Niall slid the ticket into the holder still examining it.
“Principessa,” Niall mumbled. “She always orders extra garlic bread with her eggplant.”
“Oh yeah she’s here with her brother or something,” Antonio’s nephew, Matteo, jumped right into the conversation as he brought back empty plates from the dining room.
Harry’s head snapped up from the veggies he was cutting and tossing into a pot to make a sauce. “Brother...?” Harry didn’t think that made sense at all. He remembered seeing “James groceries” on her calendar while he cleaned earlier in the week. It was always done on a day when James had to work in the evening so there was no way he would have come all the way out here for dinner. Still, he thought Harry would have known if James was here—between his protective brother streak or even just saying hello and thank you for the food. Harry thought she would bring him right back here to the kitchen and make herself at home.
But maybe Harry misread it. Or maybe James finally suspected she was tired and strung out and was taking a step to help with his kind older sister.
“Well, it’s not dinner with you; so, who else would it be?” Matteo reminded them with a shrug.
Niall gasped dropping the plate he was holding, and it shattered to the ground. Everyone stopped to look at him and he grabbed the ticket once more. Like it finally revealed the missing clue. At the same time Harry dropped the fourth knife he was using because if Matteo hadn’t said “who else would it be” they might not have put it together right then.
Harry hurried to the window and searched. “Where’s she sitting?” His voice was hurried. There was a one second pause. “Matteo, now!”
“Corner, near the door. What’s—”
“Niall...” Harry’s body felt weak and shaky. His blood was hot and boiling immediately. His vision was getting blurry at the edges, and he had never felt so close to throwing up in his whole life. Not even when he had the flu in university.
Why was his phone vibrating still?
“Oh no,” he murmured reaching for the phone in his pocket.
“Shit!” Niall hissed looking at the direction of the man sitting across from the pretty girl all the way across the restaurant.
Harry slid his thumb across his phone without taking his eyes off the table across the main room. The weakness he felt ached through every inch in his body. “Eleanor, I—”
He yanked the phone away from his ear as she responded, loudly, shouting. “Harry! For the love of GOD! Do you never look at your phone!? Why do you even have one!?”
Harry felt sicker at the accusation. How could he not look at his phone? “El—”
“Harry it’s bad,” Eleanor sobbed, barely getting the words out. Harry could hear Louis shushing her as best he could. “It’s really bad.”
It was every one of Harry’s worst nightmares.
*
She was trying to process why the door was open. She quietly stepped back from her own door, but she wasn’t in control of her own body. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. Her brain tried to reason with her muscles that there had to be a reasonable explanation. Instead, her muscles continued moving; she pressed the volume button on her phone to turn Eleanor’s voice down even though she continued rambling about how Harry adored her, and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too.
Not even the idea of Harry loving her could shake the nerves away.
“El... Eleanor,” she whispered listening intently to Antonio’s office door distinctly closing and three foreboding footsteps reaching her door. The clinking metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock on her door came next. She had the phone pressed to her lips trying to soundlessly alert Eleanor as best she could as she scurried backwards as if the door was on fire. “El! STOP!” She hissed listening for more sound.
“What?” She could hear the eye roll in her friend’s voice. “You have to confront these emotions Harry is—” There was a low voice cursing outside her door as the lock was fiddled with more and she stepped back as the door opened. Her jaw dropped along with her phone smacking to the ground. She could faintly hear Eleanor calling at the sound of the noise.
The man before her smiled excitedly, relieved. “You’re home. I knew I’d find you,” he sighed with relief reaching for her. Instinctively she took a step back, it took every ounce of her self-control to keep from throwing up all over herself or the not-so-stranger. “I’m so glad I’ve found you; I missed you so much.”
Her heart was pounding erratically. Her only saving grace was knowing Eleanor heard. She reached for her phone. Autopilot. Grab the phone that clattered to the floor.
He kicked it out of the way. “You don’t need that,” he assured her with an easy smile. She straightened; cleared her throat.
“I…don’t?” She whispered. She should have spoken louder so Eleanor could hear. Of course, she loved her apartment, and she loved Antonio and the little family he invited her to be part of that was Dolcezza. Right then, however, she wanted to cry that her apartment was soundproofed beyond auditorial recognition. Her eyes dropped to the fabric in his hand. She swallowed the bile that continued rising in her throat while he looked at her as if he had known her his whole life.
“No,” he shook his head.
Her mind wasn’t working. She was exhausted and terrified and poor Eleanor was screaming from the other end of the line. He grabbed the phone. “Hi Eleanor,” he said simply. “She’s okay. We’re going on a trip, she’ll be safe with me,” he assured her.
Then he left her phone on the side table. Hanging up and leaving it there. It started to vibrate immediately; Eleanor desperate to hear her answer again. Instead, he ignored it, held his hand out for her to take. “I need my stuff—” she stepped toward her bedroom, but he grabbed her arm. She yanked it away, like he burned her. She gasped at the touch, and he frowned.
“Sorry—”
Her fight or flight kicked in and she bolted for the bathroom. It would lock and she would drop from the second story if necessary or scream until Harry heard her.
Oh. Harry.
Right as she tried to slam the door shut behind her his foot got in the way. She yelped as he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the room. “Honey, stop fighting me,” he grumbled bitterly. She felt so sick. So scared. She wanted to scream and cry but it would be useless. No one would hear her. She needed to make someone hear her.
Slowly, painfully slowly, her brain started to work. It wasn’t much. But she prayed silently to herself that it would be. She took a shaky inhaled breath. “I’m…sorry,” her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him. She was too scared. It was a nightmare, but she could feel the way her teeth bit into her cheek. It wasn’t something she would be waking up from. “I’ve had a really long week and a really long day. I haven’t eaten yet,” she whispered. “I was going to go downstairs and eat at the restaurant,” she sniffled. “Can we do that? A date?” It tasted sour in her mouth to say it. Her fingernails dug into her palms reminding her further it was a nightmare. It had to work. Please let it work.
“A date?” He mused. He stuffed the fabric in his hands into the pocket of his pants.
“Please,” she whispered. “I’m starving.”
“And then we can go to my place?”
The idea was so nauseating, so terrifying, she worried that it wouldn’t work. If the food got to her table, she was so incredibly scared she wouldn’t be able to eat it. Her whole body felt shaky and clammy. Like when she had the flu. One bite and she would be puking all over her table.
But hopefully that would get Harry’s attention.
“Okay,” he agreed and held his hand out for her to take. It felt like cheating on Harry to hold someone else’s hand. She forced the tears behind her eyes and willed the nausea to stay in the pit of her stomach.
She placed her hand in his.
*
Harry was pacing trying to figure out how to tell her he knew. Niall was on the phone with the police begging for no sirens and no lights. Eleanor was, in the smallest of possible ways, relieved to hear she was in the restaurant and not halfway to somewhere they didn’t know.
Harry couldn’t see her face. It killed him. Why didn’t he go up sooner? Why didn’t he beg for her to come down and help so they could make up? Why didn’t he insist and help her stubborn self the way he wanted to?!
“Goddamnit!” He shouted and shoved a bin of clean cutlery on the floor. It was so loud the restaurant ceased to make noise for a prolonged moment.
“Harry,” Niall was off the phone with the police Eleanor sobbing in his other ear no doubt. “You need to be smart. They cannot leave before the police get here or we’re fucked. Eleanor already sent the detective on her case to his old place of residence and there is no sign of him there. So, if they leave…” he trailed off and Harry released a strangled noise from his throat. Not quite a cry, not quite a yell. The pain was so intense from the thought he thought he could feel it in the atoms of his body. “If you cannot have a controlled response...,” Niall warned without finishing the sentence.
Harry swallowed the feeling of being sick down. He knew what Niall meant. “Okay,” he croaked.
Everyone was still trying to work. But the whispers ensued. Within moments, everyone knew. Everyone was trying to piece together a plan and Harry felt so confused, so lost, so scared because the only one he could ever imagine getting out of this situation was his sweet Principessa herself.
“Alright,” he cleared his throat. He needed to be brave. She needed him. She never needed anyone. The weight of that made him terrified. Shaking his head he pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes to stop the stressed tears from escaping. He swallowed and shook his head again. She did the hard part. She got herself in the restaurant and Harry’s attention without even talking to him. “Niall, bring out the garlic bread in three minutes,” he ordered while untying his apron and heading for the door to the alleyway. “Tell Eleanor to tell the detective to hurry.”
*
The restaurant was easily one of her top five favorite places in the world. But right now, she wanted to scream and run from it. Where was Harry or Niall?! God, she wanted to kill Matteo. How did he not know? Wasn’t everyone under a silent direction to tell Harry when she arrived?
The worry began to take over. Harry wasn’t coming to her rescue because he didn’t want to. She pushed him away and he was going to let—
No.
Harry, despite how mad he might have been, would never let anything happen to her. She was certain.
Wasn’t she?
Perhaps Harry really just didn’t know. It was unfortunate, but there was nothing she could do about it. Especially without any indication that anyone knew she was there. Her back was to the restaurant, and she was still in her gym clothes. With her back turned, hair in a ponytail, she was probably less recognizable than normal. That had to be it. He had no idea she was there.
It was a miracle she could keep her breathing as even as she did. The thoughts started to spiral further. Maybe he wouldn’t know. It was really busy in the restaurant—Matteo might not have noticed she was there with a stranger when he seated them since the hostess wasn’t there. Maybe he didn’t tell Harry yet.
Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears it was hard to hold a conversation with him almost because she couldn’t hear him; more so than the fact that she didn’t want to talk to him. But she didn’t have a choice. He asked her about work, her family, and if she had been reading anything good. She wasn’t into it—it was obvious and she wished she was because the only thing that was going to save her was being able to play it off that she didn’t want to crawl out of her skin at the sight or sound of him. Her stomach was churning, and her voice was so quiet she wished she could do a better job acting but she was terrified. Pain started behind her eyes, and she wanted to scream.
“Good evening.”
Her head snapped up to Harry briefly, who seemingly appeared out of thin air. Her jaw dropped silently. She was really beginning to believe that he wasn’t coming to her rescue. But now he was there. He knew she was there. He was going to help. She was sure of it.
He knew she was there.
Her heart started to pound in a new way, still scared but for the first time in twenty minutes she took a deep cleansing breath; relieved. She looked at her lap afraid to give it away that she knew him.  “We are very short staffed this evening. We’re extremely sorry for the delay,” Harry sounded so formal, and she couldn’t look at him. If she did, she would cry. “Your food will be out as soon as we can. Please be patient with us. We’re very sorry.”
If she looked up, she knew his eyes would be looking at her. She knew his apologies weren’t about the food. The gravity in his voice said he was sorry because he didn’t know she was there sooner. He was sorry he didn’t come upstairs or to her rescue faster. A tear slipped across her cheek. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Do you have a bathroom?” She asked.
“I don’t think—”
“Of course,” Harry interrupted hurriedly; she could practically hear the excitement in his voice. Like he was grateful she had a plan because he was a little stuck, a little lost. It made her feel weak immediately. The worry Harry must have felt because of her made her feel guilty and sad. She wanted to fix it and it was hard she felt like she was balancing on a tightrope. She hoped Harry wouldn’t hate her for running the second she had the opportunity. “I’ll lead you,” he offered.
“You just used the bathroom upstairs, honey,” the man reminded her. His voice was tight.
He was going to be mad if she left; that much was evident. “Well, I just—” She started.
“She’s all set, actually. Thank you.”
Harry stared at him. Weighing his options. She could see it. She cleared her throat. “Um...it’s okay,” she whispered quietly. Refusing to look at Harry again. If she did, she was going to blow what little cover she had. Poor Harry. “M’just a little tired,” she assured him, trying to sound braver than she felt.
“S’back and to the left,” Harry murmured and then headed to the next table and explained the short-staffed shift again. She wondered what he was thinking and what he was saying to the table. They looked like regulars, but she wasn’t completely sure because her mind was frazzled. Harry leaving her to fend for herself, even though he was only four feet away at most had her aching for him more than she ever wanted to hold his hand in her whole life.
Harry was losing his mind. He knew she understood his apology for taking so long. He knew that she understood between the lines that he was apologizing for Matteo’s mistake in not telling him sooner. Harry would have been out in the dining room so much faster. As much as it pained him to see her seated across from another man, regardless of the circumstances. It would have been better if she was with another guy in general. At least he wouldn’t be worried sick about her safety.
It took every bit of his strength to keep blowing their cover. To keep from shaking while he told the next table that they were short-staffed. They quietly inquired about the strange man sitting with the sweet girl they all had grown to know as their sometimes-waitress and Harry’s lovely Principessa. He quietly murmured something and then casually bumped into the table dropping the knife near the edge to the floor. As he bent to grab it, he murmured to the guy, pleaded with his eyes as he tried to whisper devoid of emotion. “Do not let her leave with him.”
Harry moved to the next table—strategically he chose the tables that allowed him to keep her in his peripheral. It was killing him. The shaking was becoming uncontrollable, and the whisper beg to the couples, imploring for help from the people he had gotten to know over the years, was getting strangled in his throat as he moved to the third and fourth table.
He was at a loss. The bathroom was a great idea, but he hadn’t a clue as to how to get her from point A to point B. Maybe he could pour hot soup on her, insist she come to the kitchen for help. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to spill their hot soup in her lap either. He supposed he could throw ice cubes in it and make it less horrible on her delicate skin, but he had to do something! His mind was spiraling. He wouldn’t see her in his peripheral in just two more tables and he was already about triple the distance of what he wanted to be from her—granted even an inch of space given the scenario seemed more horrific than he could bear.
He was feeling nauseous. Maybe he should just grab her by the hand and pull her away. But they had a chance to get rid of him. To keep him away from her once and for all. He violated the restraining order. That had to be something. He would have to go away.
Despite the fact she was so close but felt like an entire galaxy away. Harry was crumbling internally. This poor older woman who had been coming in every Saturday for years looked at him with pity in his eyes as he repeated his spiel once more. The agony he felt was in every inch of his bones, every pore of his skin. His eye was twitching.
When he got her safe and out of harm’s way, he planned on never letting go of her. At least not for a few days. He was going to kiss her and hold her. Apologize to her and cook for her. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Harry was going to tell her he loved her and didn’t care if she was stubborn or felt like she was hard to care for because she didn’t like to be needy. He was needy. He needed her. It was killing him to be so close and so far away. So helpless and terrified that he couldn’t help her the way he wanted to right then. Even scared shitless, he thought she was beautiful and brave. So brave. She got here. She got his attention. That had to mean something. She believed in Harry and that he would find her or know she was there despite the frustration and anxiety she felt.
It was hard to believe it was only three minutes since he actually talked to her and apologized for taking so long. Niall came from the back with a plate of garlic bread as promised. Niall was going to come up with the next part of the plan, Harry hoped. Hell, he would go back to the table, feigning exhaustion for apologizing twice. God, he needed to get a bowl of soup, he was going to have to spill it in her lap! It was the only way.
Harry listened intently as Niall arrived at their table. He could almost see the glitter of her tears in her eyes. Nearly crying again at the sight of Niall. He wanted to make a joke more than anything that it had nothing to do with Niall but everything to do with her favorite bread in his hands. But he was mortified. Speechless in front of a table waiting with waited breath as they heard the murmurs and the wisps of what Harry managed to mumble before Niall’s arrival.
“Garlic bread,” he announced, as if she didn’t know. “Buon appetite,” he winked casually. He was far better at lying and acting than Harry or herself combined. She was itching to run. Niall and Harry, both could stop him. Someone would tackle him, right? She was fluttery. Ready to leave as soon as she saw an opening because she didn’t know what else to do. “Can I get you two anything else?” Niall asked kindly.
“I know you,” he said. It lacked suspicion but was no less terrifying.
She could see Harry’s back straightened in her peripheral and his speech silenced. Matteo and the hostess were working from the other end of the room at the same time. Probably explaining the situation to every table as quietly as they could just like Harry was.
Without any tell in sight, Niall merely tilted his head and looked at him. “Hmm...sorry. M’not sure I recognize you,” he shrugged. Niall stepped closer, getting a better look at the man across from her. His acting skills deserved an award.
But in moving closer, Niall also blocked her a good margin from his view. It was her chance. She bolted. Running from the main room and toward the kitchen so fast it took a minute for anyone to realize she was gone. She zipped out the kitchen door, back through the alley, and up to her apartment. She heard a shout coming quickly behind her, so she had to be faster. She hurried back into her apartment unable to do anything but grab her phone off the table and run into the bedroom and hide in the closet, closing the door quietly behind her. She dialed Eleanor. Her heart pounding as she heard the sound of steps. She left the door open to make it look like she ran back out, but it was impossible.
He was already in the apartment. Already tearing through her belongings, shouting, upending her furniture, and rifling through everything.
“Babe?” Eleanor nearly screeched with relief.
“I can’t talk,” she whispered barely an audible octave.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stay on the phone,” she promised. “The police are on their way.”
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general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz
@likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59
@babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06
@canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong
@foreverxholland @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03
@luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr
@crossyourpeter @kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @harryscherri
@indierockgirrl @michellekstyles @hermionelove @somethingabout1d19
Dolcezza: @matildasatellite @lovingfurypanda @sideboobrry11 @theresnooneheretosave @12yeahiminluvwu
@cohnfusedarling
I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if I put you on the wrong list, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)
If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.
165 notes · View notes
celestialwhoree · 3 months
Text
Bourbon 🏜🥃
You linger somewhat awkwardly in Simon's kitchen, eyes darting about to take everything in whilst you run the pad of your forefinger over the ridges of the glass which you currently sip from. The newcomer seems to observe you with something you could almost see as appreciation, chocolate eyes flitting from your head to your booted toes.
"Nice place." You hum, trying unsuccessfully to break the silence, pulling the sleeves of your shirt over your palms. "Got it cheap." He nods, turning back to the casserole dish which he warms through on the stovetop. "Everything here is cheap." The sound of your voice comes out so unintentionally bitter that you force yourself to clear your throat as you stare at him with a flush overtaking your cheeks, suddenly intrigued by the contents of your glass.
"Haven't seen you 'round." Simon observes, taking the pot from the stove and placing it on the dining table, reaching too easily to the top cupboard over the sink to withdraw two bowls, sliding them across the table whilst you automatically fill them with the casserole. You can't help but to hum in satisfaction when the steam finds your nose and makes your stomach growl.
"Don't get out so much." Your voice fills the kitchen as he stares at you, handing you a fork. "Too much to get done at my place. Tryna get ready for when summer starts proper."
"It's June." The soldier before you chuffs, and you think perhaps he raises an amused brow beneath his balaclava.
You give a noncommittal hum at that, settling in the chair opposite him and pointing at the hulking figure hunched over the table with your fork. "July's when it gets real hot. Days get longer." You advise, taking an appreciative bite of your own cooking, lips kicking up in a smile when he gives a nod of enjoyment himself. With the balaclava rolled halfway up his crooked nose, you can't help but appreciate more than just his quiet company, but also the pronounced bow of his lips and the strong set of his jaw, shadowed by just barely grown out stubble and a wry smirk.
"Good to know." He grunts before taking another mouthful of his food whilst you take a long sip of bourbon to distract yourself from the off-putting sensuality of his movements.
"Marlene saw you at the body shop. You fix cars or sum'n?" "Marlene?" Simon nearly chokes at your bluntness before his surprise turns to amusement at how you're practically more socially inept than he is.
"Marlene. Pretty, blonde, talks like she's verbally incontinent? Flits around Frank like a moth to a flame?" "Frank?"
"Hell." You huff, pinching the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger.
"What?" He grunts with a chuckle that has your heart doing flips against your ribs.
"You know anyone here?" "I know you." That wry smile pulls at his lips again and you think that if he keeps looking at you like that you'll either puke or cry - or wind up on your knees - which you'd really rather not be doing when you've known this guy all of five minutes.
"Frank's a mechanic, works at the bodyshop, which Dean owns. Marlene is Frank's girlfriend - and the biggest gossip on this side of the equator."
"Right - and Marlena-" "Marlene." "Marlene told you I fix cars?"
"No. Marlene told me she say you at the body shop and by the state of the Chevy outside I put two and two together."
He gives a thoughtful hum at that, looking over at you with a glint in his eye before washing down his last bite with a swill of whiskey.
"I'm no mechanic but I know a thing or two." "About old cars?" You can't tamp down the obvious hope in your voice as you stare up at him in a way that makes his stomach tighten.
"How old?" "I got a '69 fastback. S' a mess and I got no time to look at it properly. Not even too sure where to start."
"I'll come over and have a look tomorrow." Simon grunts, leaving no room for argument as he goes back to eating whilst you stare like he's just told you he's actually Superman disguised as a very handsome, rugged military man.
"Eat your dinner."
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hotchfiles · 4 months
Note
can i request prompt 14 and 17 with remus!? Maybe the third person is james in both cases?
Would be awesome if you could include both the prompts in the same
<3
send me one of my boys + a prompt
remus + reader ⋆ "can you both just kiss and make up—" both of you: JAMES— + almost kissing. but somebody walks in. "HOLY FUCK, ABOUT TIME THIS HAPPENS! I'M SO SORRY, PLEASE CONTINUE—"
you both weren't on speaking terms for almost two weeks now, thirteen days. even during breaks from hogwarts you two wouldn't go as long without as much as a letter. but there you were, sat in the same room, avoiding each other's gaze as much as humanly possible, talking to everyone else besides each other.
of course, of course, remus was the one to start it, he was the one to avoid you like the bloody plague after making out with you at a gryffindor party. you tried looking for him, talking to him, confessing, and the boys would always cover for him, he's not here, dunno where he went. and what were you if not the pettiest fifth year hogwarts has ever had? you could avoid him too, better, you could simply not talk to him at all. not a hello, not a good night. if he couldn't face you to reject you properly, you wouldn't face him at all.
it was getting ridiculous, it was messing up the whole group dynamics, lily and james had to switch desk mates to acommodate your resolve, lily sitting with remus as she felt you would go as far as isolate yourself from all the boys if it meant getting your point made, so she wouldn't give you the chance to, james would be your desk mate. to you, not that big of a problem (but oh, james was a talker, was he always? did he ever shut up?).
as the minutes passed and you kept quiet, sleepiness took over, the fireplace warm, the voices of your friends bringing a sense of home and security, you lay flat on the comfortable rug, your arm going to your eyes to block the light, no one says anything, it's something you're used to do.
you're not sure how much time has passed since you dozed off, it could be minutes or hours, but you were awaken to muffling sounds and one particular voice you knew being raised above it.
"she's the one not talking to me, why're you ganging up on me!?" your eyes opened immediately as your upper body flew up, eyebrows close in a frown as you glanced over remus.
"i'm not talking to you!? now you're blaming me!?" your tone made every sound disappear, only breathing being heard from everyone in the common room. you can see other students outside of your little friend group shuffle around getting their things to leave what seemed to be the beginning of a fight.
remus doesn't even bother to answer, shrugging it off as if it was an obvious thing, that you were the one making things harder and weird. you curl both your hands into fists, trying to keep your cool, "you vanished, avoided me and asked the three moronic musketeers to cover for you." gasps come from the other marauders at the offense, remus opens his mouth to reply, nothing comes out. he didn't think it was that obvious, he had been thinking you were ignoring him.
"my dudes, just, can you just kiss and make up—" james proves that no, he indeed doesn't ever shut up, earning the most genuine yell of his name coming from both you and remus.
your mood and your body softens as you glance over remus for the first time in days, actually taking him in, he looked tired as always, but his eyes were glued on you, sweet, yearning. lily is quick to notice the switch, pushing all the boys outside so you two could talk.
the two of you stay silent, but remus takes it on himself to make the first move and try to fix what apparently he was the one to break in the first place. he gets up from where he is, getting closer to you as your heart beat like it hadn't done that the past two weeks. he offers his hand and pulls you up, not hugging, not touching more than the hold on your hand.
but he's so close you can hear his heart, his breathing, his scent is manly and sweet and you're drowning in him, your eyes glued to his as you try not to sink. "i thought you'd want to forget it." it being the several minutes his hands roamed your body as your lips didn't leave his. or the way his hands gripped on your waist to dear life, almost scared you would disappear in thin air. you take one step closer, but you don't reply, in case he has more to say, and he always does, he's an over explainer by heart. "you were—hammered. i needed time to deal with that."
why couldn't he just ask. why did he just assume you were only kissing him because you were too drunk? the question comes quick and the answer is in his eyes so evidently it makes your heart bleed. because he's insecure and thinks that little of himself. your hands pull his collar without thinking, the desire to show him how silly that was, and his hands find balance in your waist not to fall over you.
it's happening again, your lips are about to touch, you're about to feel him again. if it wasn't for james coming into the goddamn room talking about his forgotten scarf. "HOLY FUCK, ABOUT TIME THIS HAPPENS! I'M SO SORRY, PLEASE CONTINUE—"
remus takes notice and uses the opportunity to regain a bit of dominance, pulling you to him in the kiss you were both longing the past thirteen days. thirteen days he spent thinking of you, remembering the party, wishing he could feel your lips on his again, writing little notes to send you and throwing it away, glancing at you hoping you'd glance back at him so he could somehow read you for answers, was he in love alone?
no. he wasn't. and now he finally knew and he could melt in your arms as he always wished to.
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pascallatte · 1 year
Text
Beginning of the year mishaps
Pairing/s: Pedro Pascal x actress!reader, Sarah Paulson x platonic!reader, Oscar Isaac x platonic!reader
Summary: An experimental Instagram live can’t cause that much chaos right? RIGHT?!
Date: Jan 1 2017
Warnings: age gap, cursing, bullying(?), kissing (?)
A/N: first fic for the main event, some reminders M/N is your mother's name and y/n/n is your nickname. Happy Reading, tell me what you think!!
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When you feel like you’re having too much fun you have a gut feeling that something bad happens after. I’m not saying it’s karma but let’s say it's how the world balances things. and sometimes that feeling comes in the form of an Instagram live.
“Is it on?”
“I’m not sure, can..can you check”
“No, no. it’s fine now. I can see myself” the previously dark video suddenly lightened up when a very confused Sarah looked at the camera.
“There it is!! Hello, we are having a small get-together here, and it’s just around half an hour before the new year and we decide— well I decided to turn on Instagram and celebrate with you guys.” She smiles towards the camera and placed it in front of her as happy voices can be heard in the background
Looking through the comments she smiles “Happy new year to you too!! What are you doing?- uhm I’m doing a live.” Taking a drink Sarah looked up when a voice asked her if she wanted a cookie.
“No, I’m fine sweetie just place it down there, I’ll get some later,” she sweetly said as she places her drink down.
“Any upcoming movies this ye- Yes I have a movie coming up but I won’t talk about that.” continuing to answer question after question, Sarah became unaware of what was happening around her. Her peace of mind was interrupted when a sharp scream rang out the whole room.
“What the fu- hey put her down! Don’t— oh lord I can’t handle when the three’s all together.” With a hand on her forehead, she lets out a breath as she took a sip of her drink.
“What’s happening? Well to answer that I am currently babysitting my supposed adult guests, but I don’t know really.” shuffling and footsteps were evident in the background before something similar to a heavy object being dropped followed by giggles were heard. Looking past the camera, Sarah stifles a laugh at what she's seeing. With a shake of her head, she looks at her phone, comments filled with questions of “what’s happening?”, “Who are you with?”, “you look like a stressed mother.”
Taking the phone she stands up and moves further in the room, “hey, fix yourselves I’m gonna set up the phone here.” Placing the phone on what seems like a coffee table, she sits on the couch and the comments speed through as they saw who was she with. There, sitting on the couch, breathing heavily with drinks in their hands were Oscar Isaac, Y/n L/n, and Pedro Pascal, all looking as disheveled as whatever happened earlier can make them. As soon as you spot the camera, you beamed up a smile and wave towards the camera.
“Hi! Sarah, what’s this?” You looked towards her as she laughed at your state. “I’m on live sweetie. and you better fix up your hair you look like you didn’t comb for a month.”
“Oh thanks, hi again.” Raising your hands you try to smoothen your hair back but all your effort was wasted when Pedro who was seated on your left reached up with a towel of some sort and rubbed it on your head.
“Hey hey, I already told you to stop..” You said loudly as you took a pillow to hit him. Pedro just laughed while it happened and grabbed you by the waist to sit you on his lap, “Fine, fine, ok. I’ll stop just don't hit me again.”
“You keep telling her you’ll stop but as soon as she fixes her hair, you’ll mess it up again” Oscar perks up as he watches by the side.
Shaking his head, “no, I won’t”
“Yes you will, that’s what you’ve been doing since you found that towel.” He countered as he took a sip of the wine he was drinking.
“ Ok, but I’ll stop now. Yeah? Spent too much energy keeping hold of you,” Pedro nods towards you who was still seated on his lap. Reaching forward, you took this as a chance to remove the hand around your waist and went back to sitting beside him.
“Well, it’s not my fault you kept bothering me AND it’s also not my fault your old age keeps you from having fun.” teasingly you said as you took your drink placed on a side table.
Grumbling he threw the pillow you hit him with towards you,” you were the first one to bother me and I’m not old and I can surely keep up on the FUN, you personally know that.”
And if the viewers didn't catch on to what he said, your similar looks of shock cleared the meaning up for them. Sarah looked at you specifically before clearing her throat, “Okay, what time is it?”
“11:51”
“Oh that was quick come on, let’s go look out. They’re probably setting up the fireworks by now.” Sarah said as she stood up and took the phone before giving a look, towards your direction as the viewers believe.
Comments:
Ellnn03 What the fuck!!
Latinosdailyaccount Tell Pedro I love him!!
Mschppy I swear something’s up between those two.
Niccola_fer97 Sarah! Happy New Year
Aanxcse Happy new year from argentina
Latinosdailyaccount Tell Oscar I love him, enjoy your night!!
Sebbyiare Y/n’s with them AAAAAA I love their group
Julzzz.ie What did you have for dinner?
“What did I have for dinner? we had beef stew a specialty of y/n’s mother— thank you for the recipe M/N. And a bunch more the guys brought.” She answered as she tried to open the doors to her balcony.
“Sweetie, can you hold the phone for a minute I forgot I locked this.” She passed the phone to you who was standing right beside her.
“Oh, Sure!! Hello, people of Ms Sarah Paulson’s live, how are you guys?” You asked as you read the comments. Occasionally nodding at some questions. “Where’s Oscar?— oh he’s here, wait! Oscar, someone wants to see you.”
“Huh?” He looked back at you and realization sets in. “Hi! Happy new year everyone! Thank you for the kind comments, yes- oh I agree with that.” He said chuckling.
Curiously Pedro, who was behind the camera moved closer to have a look. “Agree with what?” He asked as he hooked his arm around your shoulders, nuzzling into your neck unconsciously.
“Someone said that I looked like the mediator when I’m with the two of you, which is true enough.”
Scoffing he took the phone and angled it to where both of you were seen.
“ Everyone! You see this? This is what happens when you tease the hell out of me and then pin the blame on me.” He said as the hand on your shoulder then moves to squish your cheeks.
Laughing he got a couple squeezes in before you swatted his hand and Sarah retrieved her phone. “P, I gave the phone to her, how the hell did you end up using it to harass her.”
“You see!!!” Pedro shouted towards the camera and grunted when you hit his mid-section. “Okay, chiqui. I'm sorry, I'm sorry” was softly heard as Sarah walks back to the balcony.
Sighing Sarah opens the door and the coldness from outside immediately enveloped them.
“Fuck it’s cold”
“Ahh winter season at it’s finest”
“Should’ve brought my jacket.” 
“You want mine?” Pedro asked you quietly as he saw that the camera can still see them.
Shaking your head “no, thank you though,” smiling as you looked up at him, squeezing his forearm. “What time is it?” You asked Oscar who you knew had a watch.
“It’s…11:58,” he said towards you as he leaned on the railings.
“Thank you! And as much as I want to step closer, I might freeze before I get there.”
Sarah then pans the phone around to show where you are. “So it’s almost midnight, the countdown will start soon so to those who are watching in a different time zone, happy new year or advanced happy new year!!”
The tv that was left on inside then started the countdown. You and everyone in the building who was on the balcony joined in and shouted as you waited for the new year to enter. Moving to the side a bit, in hopes of not being in the phone’s view. You hooked your arm with Pedro’s and smiled up at him, as he looked down at you fondly.
“ THREE!!…. TWO!!!!….ONEE!!… HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!!”, shouting simultaneously with wide smiles on your faces. Jumping up you hug him followed by a deep kiss. Reciprocating it for a few seconds, you part ways to hug Oscar who was in front of you, followed by Sarah who ran to hug you. Unbeknownst to your celebration, you didn’t notice that Sarah had placed the camera down on the table near the door and was able to capture the whole ordeal. And let me tell you the comment section went wild.
Comments:
Pedritofaan34 i fucking knew it!!!
Harveyping Oh no
Its.mekalum What the hell
Y/nfanaccount4fun This isn’t what I expected to see first thing in the new year, im hurt.
Taylorvargas Happy new year!!!
mitchfory/n/n.01 THEY FUCKING KISSED!!
Stunned, Sarah let out a gasp and looked at the camera before turning at you with wide eyes.
“Why? What happened” you asked from behind the camera and were heard walking closer when Sarah offered a short message and goodbye before abruptly ending the live, leaving her fans aghast at what they'd seen, before of course taking it to the internet.
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A/n: did I post a new year's eve fic nearing the end of march? yes...yes I did
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grandlinedreams · 6 months
Note
I don’t know if you’ve done something like this before..but could maybe write about a time where reader took care of zoro and then one where he took care of you??
Thank you!!!
Absolutely I can do that for you!! Idk abt anyone else but the softness of taking care of someone when they're sick/hurt,,oof
[Heads up!: fluff, tiny bit of angst, Zoro being Zoro, mention of injuries, mention of being sick]
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"Hold still."
Zoro tries to do as you ask, though the tickle of thread pulled through his skin makes him twitch, and he grunts when you swat at his upper arm. "What was that for?"
"I said hold still!"
"I'm trying, damn it!" Zoro huffs, brow furrowed as he does his best not to move any further. "Don't understand why you're the one doin' this anyways."
"Because Chopper is busy taking care of Luffy and Sanji," you explain, holding the black thread taut and snipping it. "And you were already injured, but you popped your stitches." You pause. "Would you rather I let you bleed to death?"
"Guess not."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. "You guess? That's not much of an answer, Zoro." Your expression softens. "Try not to get torn up too many times, okay? I worry about you."
"Don't have to," Zoro grumbles, then studies your handiwork of neat stitches rather the bleeding, ragged mess it'd been when he popped them. "Thanks, I guess."
"No problem." He listens to the click of the first aid kit, the shadow that falls over him as you stand. "Guess I owe you one."
"Not at all." You know he'll probably want to take a nap, and you prepare to take your leave before you glance at him. "We're crewmates, Zoro. We look out for each other."
"Yeah, fair point."
You watch as he leans back, mindful of the fold of his arms behind him as he closes his eyes. You wish you could do as he does, though you understand why he has the knack for sleeping anywhere.
Still, you smile. "Sleep well, Zoro."
You're burning up.
It'd been bad luck to get caught in a bout of nasty weather, the sudden switch from bright and sunny to cold and rainy coming with very little warning, even with Nami's skills.
You'd been busy making sure that the Sunny wasn't battered too badly by the swell of waves and fixing things that'd been shifted with the violent rocking to change clothes ㅡ and now you're paying for it.
Though Chopper had diagnosed it as nothing to be too worried about, Zoro still doesn't like the flush to your cheeks and heat that radiates from your forehead, your breathing strained and uneven.
So he takes it upon himself to keep an eye on you. If anyone asks, it's because his normal spots to nap have lost their appeal at the moment ㅡ but if the look Robin gives him is any indication, she at least knows there's more to it.
Zoro is far from a perfect caretaker, but he tries. He soaks a rag in cold water, squeezes it, then settles it on your forehead, hoping to bring your fever down. When it dries out, he repeats the process.
You drift in and out of fevered sleep, and he listens to the little mumbles ㅡ often of your crewmates, including him. He wonders what you're dreaming about that includes him ㅡ and if it's good.
He highly doubts that it's much in part to him, but he's still pleased when you finally wake enough to want food ㅡ and he goes to get it for you before you can protest.
"Don't need you gettin' everyone else sick," he tells you when he returns with a bowl of soup. (He hadn't even threatened to chuck it at Sanji, who'd been surprised at the lack of verbal barb from the swordsman.)
"What about you?"
He scoffs. "I don't get sick."
The look you give him says you're far from believing that, but you turn your attention to the soup instead. Managing to get at least half of it down, you let Zoro finish the rest of it. (Much as he hates that stupid cook, he does make good food.)
"Thank-you for looking after me." Zoro watches as you sink back down into the heavy mess of blankets, likes to think that there's a little more healthy color to your face.
"Yeah, yeah." He looks away. "It's like you said. We're crewmates, we gotta look out for each other." You stare at him, and he huffs. "Right?"
Your expression softens. "Right."
(You get better after another day or two. And when Zoro does actually catch what you had, you're the one who offers to take care of him.)
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thefatedthoughtofyou · 7 months
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So, had an idea for a fic. Ranted about it. Never gonna write it. Had a breakdown. Made a moodboard. Here ya go. 👍🏻
Mob Son Steve!
Who's father wishes he was better at it. His heart is too big.
And retired Mob Man wayne, raising Eddie. The mob family he belonged too was wiped out, Eddie's dad was leader, but he got everyone killed pretty much, so Wayne took Eddie and never looked back. Moved to a new city and opened a mechanic garage. Eddie fixes cars like he was born to. He takes after Wayne so maybe he was. And of course, Steve is sentimental about his car, his mom left it to him in her will. But it's old. Breaks down a lot. So he takes it to Munson's Garage. And meets Eddie.
Mob Boy Steve is still a bit of an asshole. But it fades fast, especially once he really starts talking to Eddie. And then mentions him to Robin one day and she's like,
"who's this now what's ahppening???"
Because Steve's face is a goddamn open book and he looks... mushy!
His assholishness is his shield. Because if he isn't an asshole, and hardened, the other guys would tear him apart. But can you imagine, his combed back hair and nice suits.
And Eddie is ALWAYS a mess. And Steve literally just wants Eddie to fucking grab him and ruin all his nice clothes and just make HIM a mess too. And like, it's only partly sexual, this grabbing, he just wants to be able to touch Eddie. And to be able to be dirty and not perfect and put together all the time.
Maybe Nancy works the front desk for the Munsons on weekends and Robin comes in with Steve once cuz she's with him when the car breaks down and her and Nancy meet and Wayne comes back from lunch to see Nancy and Robin all smiley at each other, and Eddie is fucking smiling at the ground and tucking some hair behind his ear as Steve laughs at something he'd said and Wayne's just like,
".... am I running some kind of fucking mob dating garage?" To himself of course, but what the fuck???? Why are there multiple Mob Babies in his shop??? Flirting with his NON mob babies!!!
~°~
Lets say he's definitely still a big ol flirt in this. But Robin always knows when he's flirting for info, and to be formal, and to like.. please his father and "the family" and when he's flirting for real. Cuz he's quiet and sweet when he's being real. And he gets just as flustered as who he's flirting with. And Robin has never seen him more flustered than when he's talking to Eddie.
And Eddie, bless his little anti social, awkward self, genuinely, for the most part, has no idea Steve is flirting with him. He just think he's interested in how Eddie is fixing his car. Thinks maybe he's trying to learn a little bit at least, so he can try and keep her together on his own.
And THAT makes Eddie a little flustered, because most people just want their shit done so they can leave. But Eddie thinks he wants to learn so he tells him stuff. About his car, and then also about cars in general. He's a fountain of car facts and Steve, bless his heart, drinks them up like he's fucking desperate to drown.
And he actually does retain a lot of the info, does actually get a bit interested in the work after he fixes a breakdown on his own once, the radiator needed water and Eddie showed him how to so that on his own in case it happened again cuz Eddie didn't have the part to fix it right then. Had to order it. But Steve remembered, and got it fixed and made it home on his own. And the grease on his hands made him feel like he actually did something of value.
So he listens more closely when Eddie talks after that, always leaning into his space cuz he does have trouble hearing. He loses a lot of fights. But you have to fight where he's from or you just get killed. So he leans close, both he and Eddie getting flustered by the closeness, but he likes it there, next to Eddie.
Because Eddie explains things, looks at Steve, and if he seems confused still, he'll explain it a different way. He'd done that 4 times one day for Steve. He'd been tired, and unfocused, and just a little lost. And Eddie just kept talking until it clicked, and Steve's eyes lit up, and he waved his hands all excited and was like,
"oh oh ok! It's like when-  yeah yeah yeah!!"
And Eddie gave him this huge beautiful smile as he nodded and moved on. And Steve was... not used to that. He wasn't used to anyone smiling after he got all excited like that either, but he tried not to think about THAT too much. He was already much too red in the face from Eddie's smile to be thinking about that.
Anyway. Like we said, Wayne would definitely try to keep them apart at first. Intercepting when Steve came by. Grabbing the keys from Eddie and meeting Steve out front when his car was done.
But one day, Steve shows up covered in blood. His own blood, his face all bruised and battered like someone had used him as a punching bag. He shouldn't have been driving, probably, but he'd made it. Wayne and Eddie had watched his car roll slowly into the lot, watched it stop. Wayne's arm out in front of Eddie stopping him as he tired to move toward the door, a small smile on his lips.
And then Steve opened the door, pulled himself out of the car, and almost fell into the dirt. Eddie was around Wayne in a second, breathing out a worried,
"Steve." as he shoved through the door.
He catches Steve easily, and Steve just leans into his chest, lets Eddie hold him there. Eddie almost crying trying to ask him what happened. Steve just mumbles,
"You should see the other guy." and gives a bloody smile before he sways on his feet, his eyes rolling back.
Eddie has him half way to the door when Wayne slides under Steve's other arm, helping Eddie get him inside, into the back building, which is technically their house. Eddie guides them to the bed in the living room, they set him down gently. Wayne watches Eddie push Steve's blood stained hair off his face, tears slowly dripping down his cheeks as he looks at Steve, and heads for the door. Eddie's on his feet next to him in a second.
"Don't hurt the car. It was his mom's. She's... she's gone." Eddie whispers it.
But those words tell Wayne the parts of the story he was missing. When you're in the business Steve's in, a dead mother isn't something you talk about with just anyone. It's also in that moment he realizes he's maybe not as good at keeping tabs on Eddie as he thought he was. He just gives Eddie's shoulder a squeeze and says,
"I won't hurt it. But we can't leave it out front. If anyone's after him they'll know he's here soon as they see it. I'll take it to the back lot. Move some stuff in front it. Cover it up". Eddie nods enthusiastically and Wayne nods back, once, before he gets to work.
He comes back to find Steve sitting up, his back agaisnt the wall, his jacket and waistcoat in a pile on the floor. Eddie's between his knees wiping at the blood on his face. Grimacing in unison with Steve everytime he hits a sore spot. He's got a bowl next to him on the floor, full of water. The water is red now. Wayne leans down, takes the bowl, and then gently takes the rag from Eddie's shaking hands.
"Lemme change this. Get a new rag. You sit with him. Make sure he doesn't fall alseep." Eddie's on the cot next to Steve immediately. His hand in his hair again, Steve turns slowly to look at Eddie, his lips a small smile though the two splits in them have to be stinging.
"Are you okay?" Eddie manages to not sound too choked up, his fingers reaching for Steve's face and then pulling back multiple times. Steve huffs a laugh and grabs Eddie's hand, drops them both to his thigh as he nods once.
"I will be. Sorry for makin a mess in your place." His voice is strained, from one of his many injuries, Wayne sets a new bowl of water in Eddie's lap as he says it, and Eddie's not sure which of them he's talking to, maybe both. Wayne dismisses him with a wave, tells Eddie he's gonna go back out front and watch the shop. Steve manages to mumble something about Robin before he sags into Eddie's side again. Wayne nods, says,
"I'll keep an eye out for her."
She shows up with Nancy when she arrives for her shift, both of them looking nervous. Her and Nancy both force themselves to stay calm as they walk to the back, both of them running as soon as their out of sight of the front window.
They find Eddie still sitting on the cot, Steve's head is in his lap now. He's awake, but just staring across the room. Eddie's fingers are in his hair. Robin hugs Eddie the best she can, thanking him for taking care of Steve. Eddie can tell she wants to hug Steve too, but doesn't know where to touch him. She settles down by his legs, Nancy squeezing in next to her. And they all just stay with him.
He stays there for a while.
Once Wayne finds out what happened, Steve tells them when he's back up on his feet. His father basically gave up on him ever being part of the family, "the right way". And had sent his little lapdog Billy to "deal with him"
Robin had shown up just in time. Done something dumb to distracte everyone, like set a fire. And her and Steve had both bolted. Going in different directions to lessen the chance of being caught. Robin had run to Nancy. Steve to Eddie.
They're a little predictable, Wayne thinks, but then again, he's not sure either of them have anyone else besides each other. And no one shows up to get Steve. So he thinks they're probably okay. For awhile. But he does know one thing.
If anyone lays their hands on that boy again, they'll have to deal with Wayne. And Wayne's got a past so drenched in blood it turns his stomach to think about. And he'd put it behind him. Raised up a good boy, for his sister. But he's got another boy now, and two girls as well, and he'd be damned if anyone was gonna hurt them. He watches Eddie and Steve making lunch, just pb&j's for everyone, but they're laughing, and bumping into each other and Wayne watches his boys and thinks, just fucking let them 'em try.
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tomblythismyhusband · 4 months
Text
haunted [coriolanus snow x fem!reader] Pt. 4
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[summary]: coriolanus snow x fem!reader | You go over to Coriolanus’ apartment to confront him. There, he shares shocking news that has you questioning everything.
[warnings]: 18+, language, violence, mentions of killing (Sejanus, Lucy Gray, Mayfair), scars, slight choking, manipulative!corio, hungry ass kiss at the end (yw)
[wc]: 2.1k
[note]: part 4!! woo hoo!!! lmk if i should continue this series :)
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You arrived at Coriolanus’ apartment shortly after you left your own. You felt an extreme amount of anxiety as you lifted your hand to knock it on the door.
Should I? Will this even fix anything? You wondered as your hand hovered over the wood.
You bit your lip and knocked. You immediately heard a frustrated Coriolanus through the door.
“Tell Tigris I don’t want to speak to her right now.” He yelled. He must’ve been talking to one of his maids. You bit your lip. He already sounded like he was in a bad mood.
The lock of his front door clicked and a short woman, looking to be in her late 50’s creaked open the door. She peered at you, most definitely judging your appearance.
“Can I help you, Miss?” She said finally, after taking her sweet time roaming her eyes up and down your figure.
You took in a breath, hoping the nervousness you felt wouldn’t show in your tone.
“I’m here to see Coriolanus.”
Your voice was smooth, controlled, like you knew exactly what you were here for. Little did she know you had no idea what visiting Coriolanus would do. You doubted he would even make the effort to talk to you and fix things, but you had to try.
The old woman raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t want visitors right now.” Her tone was as sour as the expression on her face.
“Ma’am I need to talk to him urgently.” You said, still keeping your voice steady.
The woman sniffed and frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t let you.”
You felt a pang of annoyance in your chest. You drew closer to the door, putting your hand against it, looking into the woman’s eyes. You hoped you looked desperate.
“Please…. Tigris sent me here for him.”
At the mention of Tigris the woman’s gaze softened.
“Fine.”
The woman creaked open the door to let you into Coriolanus’ apartment. It was frigid. The foyer which you had entered was dead silent, adding to the eerie feeling in the air. The old woman pointed a bony finger down a dimly lit hallway.
“He’s in his study down there. Last door to the left.” You opened your mouth to respond but she scurried off before you could even get a sound out.
You sucked in a breath and started to make your way down the marble floored hallway. You had been in this very apartment countless times but it felt different this time. It felt as if you were walking into enemy territory.
The only sounds were your footsteps touching the floor with each step. Fear bubbled up in your stomach as you moved.
Would Coriolanus be mad? Would he yell? Scream? Your mind spun, thinking of every possible reaction he could have until you approached the dreaded door. The last door on the left.
You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, sending a wave of cool calming air into your lungs. You didn’t even knock.
He didn’t deserve one.
You opened the door of his study, swiftly stepping inside. Coriolanus had his head bowed over his desk, pen in hand. He didn’t even look up.
“Rosetta-“ (Must’ve been the maids name) “Who was at the-“
His eyes flicked up. You had forgotten how intense his eyes were. You felt as if they were burning holes into your chest.
He immediately stood up. His clothes were wrinkled, his eyes dark with exhaustion, his hair in a mess of tangled curls.
“What do you want?” He sneered. You were taken aback. Your fists clenched at your sides.
“Really? That’s all you have to say to me?” You scoffed, shaking your head.
He tilted his head, a bored expression on his face. “I’m not the one who stormed out of here. I feel as if you owe me an apology.”
You couldn’t help but let out a strained laugh. “Me? Apologize?”
Coriolanus’ jaw twitched. “You disrespected me that day.”
You took a step forward. All your worries were melting away. You didn’t care anymore. You wanted to hurt him. Hurt him exactly like he hurt you.
“Tell me Coriolanus.” You said with a false sense of sweetness. “When were you going to tell me all about Lucy Gray?”
His eyes widened, his expression growing colder. “What are you talking about.” He said fiercely.
You took another confident step forward. “I know you and her had a fling - Back in District 12.” You cocked your head at him. “Don’t tell me you're still hung up on her.”
Coriolanus slammed his hands down on the desk making a loud slap.
“Don’t.” He growled. He tried to intimidate you but you could see the screaming guilt in his blue eyes.
You placed your hands on your hips. “So you don’t deny it? Do you still love her? Hm?” You could tell you were testing his ability to stay calm.
“You don’t know what you're talking about y/n.” He stood up straighter, taking in a sharp, controlled breath.
“I would advise you to stop this now.”
You shook your head. There was no way in hell you were letting him off this time.
“Enlighten me Coriolanus. Whatever happened to Lucy Gray? Tigris came and talked to me… you haven’t been telling anyone anything have you?” Your voice came across cold, almost taunting. You wanted to see his blood boil, you wanted to see his guilt eat him alive.
He jaw ticked at the mention of his cousin. You could tell his anger was rising. You decided to push it further.
You had stepped close enough so your thighs were pressed against the edge of his desk. “How long have you been pretending to love me?”
Questions, questions. All you wanted were answers. As your eyes searched his face his lips twitched, his hands curling and uncurling.
“Stop it. I’m not talking about this with you.” He said finally.
This was your limit. You were done being lied to.
“Fuck you. I see why she left you now.” You yelled. You assumed that’s what happened after all. You had no evidence that that’s how their relationship played out. Why else would he be so sensitive about the topic?
In a blink a hand was wrapped around your throat, pulling your head close to his. You gasped as the tight pain blossomed, making your heart rate increase.
“Fine, you want to know? You want to fucking know?” His eyes were wild, his hand applying more and more pressure to your neck as he held you.
“I killed her. I fucking shot Lucy Gray.”
You didn’t expect this. Now you almost wished you never came over, wished you stayed ignorant.
Coriolanus killed her.
You felt dizzy and you weren’t sure if it was because of his grip on you or the new information pounding in your brain.
“What- you-“ You choked out. The world around you felt fuzzy.
His intense gaze stayed on you. “I did. She left me no choice.”
He pulled you closer, your body bending over the desk. “And how do you feel about that darling?” The word darling dripped off his tongue like poison. Your stomach lurched. You couldn’t think anymore. Your mind grew foggier and foggier as everything around you dimmed.
The last thing you could remember before you blacked out was his suffocating grip, and his cold gaze.
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You awoke, slumped on the plush velvet couch that sat in his study. The sweet aroma of lavender filled your nostrils as Coriolanus lifted a cup of tea to your lips.
“Drink.” He murmured, tipping the cup. Your throat felt incredibly dry so you didn’t even try to fight it. Your body warmed as the hot liquid met your lips. Lavender filled your mouth, the sickening sweet tea coating your throat.
You wondered how long you were out. Presumably long enough to fetch a hot cup of tea.
“Good.” He said softly, taking the cup away from your lips. You blinked, the world around you coming back from its previous blurry haze.
Your eyes met Coriolanus’. He didn’t seem angry anymore, he seemed serious. His body sat beside yours at a distance as he watched you.
“Ready to talk?” He said quietly. He places the tea on the coffee table gently.
Your stomach pinched as you remembered his earlier confession. He killed Lucy Gray. You still couldn’t believe it - well maybe you just didn’t want to believe it.
Your body started to tremble. You felt his hand grip yours and squeeze. His voice dropped down into a whisper.
“I know this is a lot. But I need you to listen to me carefully Y/n.”
You drew in a breath. You couldn’t move. Your mind was screaming for you to run.
Coriolanus moved his head closer to yours, blue eyes full of emotion.
“I know I shouldn’t have kept this from you. The guilt is consuming me.” He shook his head, his expression grim.
He had always planned to tell you about Lucy Gray- preferably after you were his wife, but now he had no choice.
Your hands shook as you ran them through your hair. “Why- I dont-“ You muttered, thoughts scrambled.
“Shhh….” He coaxed, tracing a thumb over your tense hand. “She was a rebel. Her priorities were not to stay in Panem. Who knows what she could’ve done, being so popular in the capitol and all.”
Obviously he left out the part about Lucy Gray finding out about Sejanus and how he’d turned him over. Coriolanus wasn’t so innocent in the situation, but you didn’t need to know that.
You sniffed, hating how tears started to roll down your cheeks. Coriolanus brought a gentle hand up to your face, to wipe the water from your eyes.
“Lucy Gray tried to kill me. She placed a snake in a place she knew I would interact with.” He pulled out his forearm to show you a faint scar. Snake bite.
You let out a tiny gasp. Was he really telling the truth? You ran your shaky fingers over the scar.
Coriolanus could feel you start to believe him. Again, he had left out the part of the story where he trampled through the forest, hunting Lucy Gray with the peacekeeping rifle he had shot Mayfair with.
“How- How did you kill her, I mean I know you mentioned you shot her but….” You stuttered timidly.
Coriolanus pulled his arm away, running a hand through his messy blonde curls. “If you're asking how I had the courage to do it… I don’t know. All I know is that she was a threat to my life as well as the security of Panem.”
You released a shaky breath, putting your head in your hands. You felt only a little better. He had only done it in self defense, right?
Coriolanus noticed your still present doubt. He leaned close, placing his mouth next to you ear before whispering softly.
“I would never lie to you.”
You turned your head to look at him. You had one more question, dying to be answered.
“Is that why you can’t say you love me… Because of her?”
Your question made his body tense for a moment. Finally he answered, his voice barely audible.
“I’m scared to love again. I had loved Lucy Gray… and look where it got me.”
You squeezed his hand. “Coriolanus, you have me.”
You shifted your body so you were closer to him. He turned his head from you. “I can’t love you the way you deserve. I practically choked you out moments ago.”
You shook your head. For some odd reason your mind didn’t want to stay mad at him. You were getting somewhere. His walls were coming down.
“I know you didn’t mean to.” You said softly.
Coriolanus turned his head back to you. In this moment he realized to what extent you cared for him. He had been aggressive toward you on countless occasions, yet you still came running back. You were either madly in love or out of your mind.
He leaned close, dragging his nose up your neck. It was almost like he was apologizing.
“I don’t deserve you y/n. You are above me in every way.” He murmured into your skin. His warm breath shot tingles up your spine.
When he touched you he seemed innocent. When his lips were on your neck, he was innocent. When his words praised you- innocent.
“I want to fix what we have together, Coriolanus.” You whispered, running a hand through his hair.
His eyes flicked up to yours.
“I think I love you.”
The words made your breath catch, your body warm. Your hands slid down to cup his face. This is the man you fell in love with.
He leaned in to meet your lips in a hungry kiss. You would’ve thought he was starving by the way he kissed you. His lips worked against your quickly, trying to taste every bit of you. He didn’t hesitate to slip in his tounge, running it over your lips as you let out little sounds of need.
When he pulled away you realized you didn’t hurt anymore. You had him. He was yours. He was going to stay, and you were too.
Coriolanus ran a thumb over your lips. “You had nothing to worry about this entire time darling…”
His words made you feel stupid for ever thinking he didn’t love you. You felt like a naive girl who jumped to conclusions. You should’ve just trusted him. He was just feeling conflicted for how much Lucy Gray had hurt him. Lucy Gray was the monster.
Right?
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tagging: @merlieve
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qqueenofhades · 9 months
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JSYK the OP of the Crab Day post is a self-identified conservative Christian. Can't speak to anything she may have done or said, but I do know that Crab Day wouldn't actually fix Tumblr - the site is running a 30mil *deficit,* which is different from debt. All Crab Day would do would be telling staff that their current policies get users to send them more money, which doesn't actually change anything. Corporations change only when their business strategy is losing the shareholders money.
Gotta be honest, my friend, I'm... not sure what you're trying to do here? Warn me that the original post was made by a Problematic Person (tm) and therefore that must mean it's all wrong, or.... what?
We know that Tumblr badly needs money, because they have told us that and openly admitted that the unpopular new changes were spurred by a need for increasing revenue. I logged on just now on desktop and got a suggestion that I could purchase an ad-free browsing subscription to help support the hellsite (which is the word they used, because they have very much embraced the joke). I have in fact already bought an ad-free subscription, both because I like the product Tumblr provides and want to keep using it in its current form, and because it makes my mobile experience immeasurably nicer. I am well aware that especially in this era of social media sites dropping like flies, the continued existence of a platform that is 30-million-dollars underwater (however you want to split hairs about exactly how) is not a guarantee. And we all complain about Tumblr, but we have all been here a long time (me, uh, over 10 years), we have a solid community, there's no other alternative that's really ever come up or gotten the same kind of uptake, and if it went under, we would be uh, screwed.
Tumblr is kind of a mess, it's the antithesis of every social media site, and it doesn't (for now) have the crap that makes The Artist Formerly Known As Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram so utterly unusable, or if it does, you can (mostly) turn it off. That's why we all like it and why, even if we are resolutely anti-capitalist gremlins who resist being marketed to with every fiber of our being, it doesn't change the fact that servers, staff, and all the rest cost real human-people money which the site, by their own frank admission, is struggling to raise. Even if staff does often make crappy updates, they generally at least TRY to listen to us and include a feature to make it optional or roll it back, unlike certain unnamed idiot billionaires. Their mockery of other social media sites can sometimes be a little much, but for now, Tumblr is pretty much the last place on the internet that does what it does, and I like it that way. If it went under and took my blog of 10+ years and all my friends with it, I would be incredibly sad.
That being the case, and basic financial realities being what they are, encouraging people to toss a few bucks at a TOTALLY OPTIONAL and fun gimmick that increases functionality for a product we like is actually not a bad thing. TumblrMart has crabs, checkmarks, Ea-Nasir merchandise (seriously), ad-free browsing, etc., and if our choice is voluntarily supporting the site through fun (and again, OPTIONAL) purchases versus having us all be involuntarily subject to some horrible data-scraping mechanism or forced off altogether because they couldn't keep the lights on, that is fine with me. Nobody is making anybody do or buy anything. But if you like the product Tumblr provides and want a fun material way to show your appreciation, then I don't think it's some Great Transgression to participate in that.
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